LIBBARY
OF
Nee Bc-ire fas est omnia.
MADLERS TELESCOPIC VIEW OF THE MOON
POPULAR LECTURES
ON
SCIENCE AND ART;
VOLUME L
— >
POPULAR LECTURES
SCIENCE AND ART;
DELIVERED IN THE PRINCIPAL
CITIES AND TOWNS OF THE UNITED STATES/
BY
DIONYSIUS LARDNER,
DOCTOR OF CIVIL LAW, FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SOCIETIES OF LONDON. AND EDINBURGH-
" OX THK ROTAL IRISH ACADEMT, MEMBER OF THE PRINCIPAL EUROPEAN SOCIETIES
FOR THK ADVANCEMENT OF SCIENCE, AND FORMERLY PROFESSOR O* ASTROS-
OMT ANE NATURAL PHILOSOPHY IN THK UNIVERSITY OF LONDON.
" The most obvious means of elevating the people, is to provide for them works on popular and prac-
tical science, freed from mathematical symbols and technical terms, written in simple and perspicuous
language, and illustrated by facts and experiments which are level to the capacity of ordinary minds."
LONDON QUARTERLY REVIEW.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
FIFTEENTH EDITION.
NEW-YORK:
BLAKE MAN AND MASON.
1859.
,'UI IAJU1
ft
MA (IMA
'
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845,
BY GREELEY & McELRATH,
Jn the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Southern
District of New York.
M J* 'a' j<n: f
ITEREOTYFXD BY REDFIELD * SAVAGE,
13 Chambers Street, V. T.
PUBLISHERS' ADVERTISEMENT,
THE publishers announce that Dr. LARDNER, having brought to a
close his public lectures in this country, they have availed themselves
of the opportunity thus presented to induce him to prepare for publica-
tion the present complete and authentic edition of these discourses.
The general interest which they excited in every part of this country is
universally felt and acknowledged. Probably no public lecturer ever
continued for the same length of time to collect around him so nu-
merous audiences. Nor has there been any exception to this favorable
impression. Visit after visit has been made to all the chief cities ; and,
on every succeeding occasion, audiences amounting to thousands have
assembled to hear again ana' again these lessons of useful knowledge.
The same simplicity of language, perspicuity of reasoning, and felicity
of illustration, which rendered the oral discourses so universally ac-
ceptable, are preserved in these miscellanies, which are, as nearly as
possible, identical with the lectures as they were delivered.
The publishers feel that in these volumes they present to the Ameri-
can public a most agreeable offering, and an interesting and useful
miscellany of general information, which will also afford that large class
of persons, who have attended the lectures, an agreeable means of
reviving the impressions from which they have already derived so much
profit and pleasure.
NEW YORK, April, 1855.
THE PUBLISHERS.
" In prirnis, honnnis est propria VERI mquisitio atque investigatio. Itaque cum sumum negotiis neces-
sariis, curis quo vacui, turn avemus aliquid videre, audire, ac dicere, cognitionemque rerum, aut oc: -It-
arum aut admirabilium, ad ben6 beateque vivendum necessariam ducimus ; ex quo intelligitur, ^uod
VERUM, simplex, sincerumque sit, id esse naturae hominis aptissimum. Huic veri videndi curiditati ai-
juncta est appetitio quxdam principals, ut remini parere animus beng a natura informatus velit, ni.il
praecipienti, aut docenti, aut utHitatis causajustg et legitimfe imperanti: ex quo animi magnitude exis;it,
et bumanarum rerum contemtio." — Cicero, de OJficiis, lib. 1, <> 13.
Above all things, man is distinguished by his pursuit and investigation of TRUTH, and nen-c, when free
from needful business and cares, we delight to see, to hear, and to communicate, and consider a. knowl-
edge of many admirable and abstruse things necessary to the good conduct and happiness cf our Kves. .
Whence it is clear, that whatsoever is TRUE, simple, and direct, the same is most congenial to oil'- na- )
ture as men. Closely allied with this earnest longing to see and know the truth, is a kind of d'gr.ifed )
and princely sentiment which forbids a mind, naturally well constituted, to submit its faculties to any
but those who announce its precept and doctrine, or to yield obedience to apy orders but SMch as ars at
once just, lawful, and founded on utility From this source spring greatness of mind and contempt of
worldly advantages and troubles
PREFACE.
IN presenting to the American public the collection of sci-
entific miscellanies which forms the contents of these volumes,
it may be proper to explain the circumstances which gave
occasion to them in their original form of oral discourses, the
character of the audiences to which they were addressed, and
of the readers to whose information and amusement it is hoped
they may contribute in their present more permanent state.
Engaged for a large portion of my life in the practical ap-
plication of the physical sciences to the uses of life, and more
especially to those scientific industries which derive their effi-
cacy from the agency of steam, I had always looked forward
with the liveliest interest to a time when I might be enabled
to visit a country which had taken so prominent a part in the
advancement of these arts, and which had formed from an
early period so grand a theatre for their development, as the
United States. To the claims which that country presented
to the attention of every intelligent and inquiring tourist, ari-
sing from its important commercial relations with the old
PREFACE.
1
world, from its peculiar political institutions, and from the
grandeur of its territorial extent and physical resources, I was
as sensible as other travellers. But in addition to these, the
enterprising character of its population, and the inventh 3 spirit
which so universally prevailed there in the me shames and
physical arts, rendered the country which had been tks cradle ;
of steam navigation more than commonly attractive to rne. •
Had I, like most tourists, been contented to have made ?, short
visit to America, flying through the states as fast as steam-
boats and railways could transport me, without remaining in
any one place a sufficient time to see more than the external
forms of things, and scarcely even that I might easily have
accomplished my purpose. But these travellers were beacons
to warn, rather than examples to be followed. I knew that it
were worse than useless to cross the Atlantic, until I could do
so with the power of remaining in America for such a time as
might enable me to acquire a knowledge of its population,
their character and habits, the physical features and industrial
resources of the country, and the practical working of its po-
litical institutions in all their various phases. The full attain-
ment of such an object would require, not a summer's tour, or
a winter's residence, but a sojourn of several years, to be judi-
ciously distributed among different parts of that vast country
in the proportion of their relative interest and importance.
Prepared to carry out these views, I departed for America
in the autumn of 1840, and entered the splendid bay of New
York on the evening of the 29th September. I determined to
divide the first year of my residence between the two chief
cities, New York and Philadelphia. After remaining for a
few days in the former city, at the Globe hotel, I accordingly
( -stablishecl myself in Philadelphia, where I remained for seven
months; after which I removed to New Yorl:, whore I resided
PREFACE.
about the same period. I now prepared to commence what
might properly be called the grand tour of the states ; and be-
ing accompanied by my family, the consequent expenses of
travelling for so long a time, and through such distant coun-
tries, became a subject of consideration. Besides this view
of my projected tour, another presented itself. Might I not
render myself useful to the public, while gleaning information
from them ? and in the act of being useful to them, might I
O ' O
not multiply and enlarge the means of obtaining the informa-
tion of which I was in quest ? Since my arrival, I had often
been solicited to deliver in one or other of the chief cities pop-
ular lectures on scientific subjects, such as I had occasionally
given in England. I had already observed that the American
public in New York and Philadelphia manifested more than
ordinary taste for that species of oral instruction. Societies
under various denominations existed in these cities and else-
where, whose chief object was to get up weekly lectures on
miscellaneous and unconnected subjects, delivered by various
individuals invited for the purpose by the directors of such
societies. These lectures, although for the most part since
discontinued, were at that time popular and numerously at-
tended. The success of these projects was the more encour-
aging when the quality of the article so greedily enjoyed by
the public was considered. It is true, that among the numer-
ous discourses thus brought together from all parts of the
Union, some were found eminently possessing the qualities
which such discourses ought to have, and which were well
deserving of success. But these were like angels' visits, few
and far between —
Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto.
In general, the history of such productions might be thus
traced : The committee of the society of , in
the state of , having determined to make up a course
of weekly lectures to run through the ensuing season, send
applications to all persons whose names they imagine will
prove attractive to their subscribers. The real fitness of the
individuals by their talents, acquirements, or habits, to fulfil
the duty of a public instructor is little regarded. But the title
of the Honorable A. B., senator from the state of C. D., or, if
senators cannot be found, the Honorable E. F., member of the
house of representatives, is regarded as a qualification of the
first order. In any case an honorable is mcst important.
The selection being made, a missive in due form is despatched
by the president of the society, inviting the honorable legisla-
tor to deliver a lecture in the course of the ensuing season
before the members of the society, on such subject as
the honorable legislator may please to select. To this an an-
swer arrives in due time, graciously accepting the proffered
invitation, and informing the committee that the subject on
which the honorable legislator will descant for the edification t
of the members of the society will, for example, be the
life and character of Dr. Johnson. When the important even-
ing, in the fulness of time, arrives, the lecturer is ushered in
solemn form by the members of the committee to the pulpit,
where a decanter of water, a glass goblet, and a pair of wax
candles, are duly provided, and the members of the society
are entertained for an hour and one half with selections from
Boswell's Life of Johnson, in the formation of which the
use of the scissors bears an unconscionable ratio to that of
the pen.
Such was the process by which courses of lectures were
usually got up. Now and then, however, these societies
would obtain the aid of one of those self-styled professors who
PREFACE. 11 ;
made a business of popular lecturing. In such cases, how- 1
ever, the instruction offered to the audience was but a shade !
better than that afforded by the amateurs to whom I have just
referred. The information of these teachers is usually but
skin deep. Their study, if so it can be called, is made ex-
pressly for their lectures, and the measure of their own infor-
mation is strictly limited by the demands of their audience.
They have learned for the occasion so much about the matter
in hand as they shall have to say, and no more. Like certain
storekeepers in Broadway and Chesnut-street, they exhibit
their entire stock in their windows.
Although such was the general character of the popular
lectures given in the chief cities at the time to which I refer,
there were, nevertheless, occasional exceptions. Public
teachers, eminently qualified, were from time to time induced
to extend the benefits of their labors from the professional
chairs of the universities, colleges, and public schools, to the
more mixed and popular assemblies of the literary societies of
the towns and cities of the Union, or to deliver courses to
classes brought together by the talents and reputation of the
lecturer. In such case, I observed that the superior value of
the instruction offered was duly appreciated by the public, and
that large and attentive audiences were collected, notwith-
standing the unavoidable imposition of a much higher fee of
admission.
Encouraged by all these circumstances, I proceeded to pre-
pare the necsssary means of illustration adapted for large and
popular audiences, and commenced my proceedings by a
public lecture given in the lecture-room of Clinton-Hall, in
New York, in November, 1841. The result having proved to
be successful, I removed to the theatre at Niblo's gardens, \
where an advantageous arrangement was made with the pro- !
12 PREFACE.
prietor, and the lectures were continued every evening- until
Christmas. The months of January and February, 1842, were
passed, at Boston, where the lectures were given at the Melo-
deon and at the Tremont theatre. The unprecedented num-
bers collected in the latter building to attend the lectures will
not be forgotten by those who were present on these occa-
sions, and the# afforded a satisfactory proof that the discourses
delivered were adapted to the wants and the tastes of the pop-
ulation of that part of the Union.
The reputation which this species of entertainment had thus
acquired now brought invitations from the other chief cities
of the Union, and after having passed the months of January
and February in Boston, I went to Philadelphia, where dis-
courses were delivered in the Chesnut-street theatre on the
alternate evenings during the month of March.
Between this time and the close of the year 1844, I visited
every considerable city and town of the Union, from Boston to
New Orleans and from New York to St. Louis. Most of the
principal cities were twice visited, and several courses were
given in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. Nor did the
appetite for this species of intellectual entertainment appear to
flag by repetition. The audiences at Palmo's theatre, New
York, in August, 1844, were even more crowded than they
had been at Niblo's in 1841 ; those in the Melodeon at Bos-
ton, in October, 1844, were as numerous as they had been at
the Tremont theatre in January, 1842; and the crowds assem-
bled in the great saloon of the Philadelphia museum, in De-
cember, 1843, and January, 1844, were much greater than
even the audiences of the Chesnut-street theatre, in March,
1842.
My purpose in mentioning these circumstances is not the
gratification which such results might afford to my vanity, al-
PREFACE.
13
though I see no reason why I might not without impropriety
express the pleasure which they afforded to me. I wish to
produce them as affording a very striking characteristic of the
American people. \It was usual on each evening to deliver
from two to four of the essays which compose the contents
of the present volumes, and the duration of the entertainment
was from two to three hours. On every occasion the most
> profound interest was evinced on the part of the audience, and
the most unremitting and silent attention was given. These
assemblies consisted of persons of both sexes of every age,
from the elder class of pupils in the schools to their grand-
fathers and grandmothers. Frequently, as at the Tremont
theatre, at the Chesnut-street theatre in 1842, and at Pal-
mo's (New York) in 1844, the audiences amounted to twelve
hundred, and sometimes, as at the Philadelphia museum in
1843, they exceeded two thousand. Nor was the manifesta-
v tion of this interest confined, as might be imagined, to the
' northern Atlantic cities, where education is known to be at-
! tended to, and where, as in New England, the diffusion of
{ useful knowledge is regarded as a paramount duty of the
! state. The same crowded assemblages were collected for a
long succession of nights in the largest theatres of each of the
southern and western cities- — in the Charleston theatre ; the
Mobile theatre ; the St. Charles theatre, New Orleans ; the
Vicksburg and Jackson theatres, Mississippi ; the St. Louis
theatre, Missouri ; and in the theatres of Cincinnati, Pitts-
burg, and other western and central cities.
It cannot be denied, that such facts are symptomatic of a
very remarkable condition of the public mind, more especially
j among a people who are admitted to be, more than any other
j nation, engrossed by money-getting and by the more material
< pursuits of life. The less pretension to eloquence and the
14
PREFACE.
attractive graces of oratory the lecturer can offer, the more
surprising is the result, and the more creditable to the intelli-
gence of the American people. It is certain that a similar in-
tellectual entertainment, clogged, as it necessarily was, with
a pecuniary condition of admission, would fail to attract an
audience even in the most polished and enlightened cities of
Europe.
It is proper to state here, that the lectures as orally given
though similar in substance with those which appear in the
present volumes, differed considerably in form and expression
This must necessarily be the case. The oral discourses were
strictly extemporaneous, in the only sense in which didactic
discourses ever are so. They were delivered from the stage
of the theatre without reference to any written notes or mem-
oranda. The general outline of the subject, the leading argu-
ments, and the most important illustrations and examples,
alone were previously registered in the memory of the \
speaker. The language in which these were clothed, and the
more minute details of the subjects, arguments, examples,
and illustrations, were left to the suggestion and inspiration
of the moment. Nor was this course adopted merely to save
labor, or from any necessity arising from the over-pressure of
business. It was pursued because it was found, from lono
practical experience in public lectures, to be the best. The
style of the speaker is more animated than it could be when
the discourse is uttered verbally from memory. The mastery
which he has, or ought to have, over his subject, and the rich
and various stores of illustration on which he draws, enables
him to adapt his mode of reasoning and style of illustration
to the varying character and capacity of his audience, and
hence it will happen often that the same lecture, delivered on
two different occasions and to two different audiences, will bt
^"fc--'"w'^'*K-'''1*-'>h*'^-^^»*''*1^''^^ t
PREFACE.
15
given in different language, style, and with different illustra-
tions. Those who have attended more 'than once the same
lectures delivered by me, will recognise the truth of this ob-
servation.
But a written didactic discourse ought to differ materially
from an oral discussion of the same subject. A reader and a
hearer are placed under very different conditions. The one
can proceed with such deliberation as the readiness or slow-
ness of his capacity and the greater or less abstruseness of
the subject may require. He may retrace his steps as often
as he may find necessary, returning again and again on the
same sentences. The other must catch the spirit and sense
as fast as the words fall from the lips of the speaker. The
style of a written essay is like that of a cabinet picture, that of
an oral discourse like scene painting. The effect of the one is
produced by elaborate finish, that of the other by bold and
rough lines which seize the most inattentive and unskilled
eye.
These distinctions, however true and important, are rarely
attended to by those on whom the duty of public instruction
devolves. Lectures accordingly, even when they proceed
from those who by acquirement are most competent to in-
struct, are often either nothing more than demonstrations of
scientific propositions and principles, or written discourses,
generally read from the manuscript, or, as much more rarely
happens, committed to memory, and delivered verbatim as
written.
The qualifications of a good public lecturer for popular audi-
ences are seldom found combined in the same person, although
none of them can be regarded as very exalted intellectual
gifts. Such a teacher must above all things possess a knowl-
edge of his subject much more profound than that which he
16
PREFACE.
is required to impart. He must have a familiarity with all its
details, such as can only be acquired by long experience in
teaching. The same experience can alone make him know
the difficulties of comprehension which his hearers will feel,
and render him familiar with those means of illustration and
exposition which will give him the easiest, surest, and most
expeditious avenues to their understandings. He must pos-
sess such command of his subject, and such fluency of lan-
guage, as will render him altogether independent of written
memoranda or notes, and enable him to speak directly from
his thoughts and his understanding, and not merely repeat
words which he has previously committed to memory. Clear-
ness and order must be conspicuous in his reasonings, and his
illustrations must not only be apposite, but adapted to the
character, capacity, and acquirements of his audience. He
must be endowed by nature with voice sufficiently powerful,
and articulation sufficiently distinct, to render every syllable he
utters easily and immediately audible to the most remote of
his hearers, and his manner and appearance must be exempt
from any peculiarities calculated to excite repugnance. Such
a teacher will be sure to command success with a popular
audience, and his labors will be beneficial to his hearers and
profitable to himself.
That, in the delivery of the lectures comprised in these vol-
umes, I was enabled to present this combination of qualifica-
tions I do not pretend ; but I can state, with perfect truth, that
ever since I commenced my duties as a public teacher, it has
been my aim to acquire these qualifications to the utmost ex-
tent to which my natural gifts enabled me to attain them, and
it is to the diligence with which these endeavors were directed,
and the perseverance with which they were continued, that I
ascribe the success which has attended my efforts as a popu-
W*X^-N^-X^-\
PREFACE. 17
lar lecturer, both in Europe and America. I may therefore <
be allowed to express a hope, that this statement may prove
useful to others who may be induced to adopt a like course
with the same public object.
The misce laneous nature of the contents of the present
volumes, and the absence of any logical connexion or ar-
rangement among them, render some further explanation ne-
cessary respecting the mode in which the lectures were given.
The audiences being composed, for the most part, of persons
engaged in the pursuits of business, the exercise of profes-
sions, and the other active occupations of life, no regular cr
consecutive attendance on any series of lectures could be
looked for. Occasional attendances, as leisure, convenience,
or inclination, might induce, were all that could be expected.
It was, therefore, necessary that the discourses delivered on
each evening should be, as far as possible, separate and inde-
pendent, intelligible, useful, and entertaining of themselves,
without reference to any others previously given, so that no
one might be deterred from availing themselves of any one
evening's lecture merely because they had not been enabled
to attend the preceding ones. The same consideration ren-
dered it unnecessary to observe any fixed order in the subjects
of the lectures. It was usual to extend the evening's enter-
O
tainment to a length not previously customary with public
lectures. From two and one half to three hours was not an
unusual length. This time, however, was not devoted to a
single subject. A succession of two, three, and sometimes
four subjects, would often be produced, having no connexion
whatever with each other. Thus astronomy, electricity, and I
the steam-engine, would be successively noticed, short inter- j
vals of rest being left between them, as between the perform- I
ances in a dramatic theatre. Unusual and unpromising as
VOL. i.— a
r as
•*w«^rNM»"*
r
• i q PREFACE.
J such a project may seem to have been, it was nevertheless j
j perfectly successful, not in one, or in two, or in three cities,
\ but in every part of the Union. This will explain much
that might otherwise appear strange in the subject and con-
tents of these volumes. The miscellaneous character of the
subjects discussed— the rejection of all attempt at system-
atic arrangement — and the varying length of the articles -
all correspond with the lectures as they were delivered to the
public.
It is scarcely necessary to observe that the same series of
discourses was not given in all places which I visited, nor
was the entire collection contained in the present volumes
given in any one place. Most of these essays were, however,
on some one or other of my visits to New York, Philadelphia,
and Boston, given in those cities.
A considerable number of these essays were prepared ex-
pressly for my lectures, among which may be mentioned all
those on astronomical subjects, with one or two trifling excep-
tions, and several of those on steam. The substance of some
have been incorporated in one or other of my former works,
but in every case they have been more or less modified and
adapted to their present purpose.
The object of this miscellany is not to enlighten those who
devote themselves to the regularly-disciplined study of those
sciences and arts which are here so slightly and popularly
iched. My purpose has been to instruct and inform, and
at the same time rationally to amuse, those who have neither
time, inclination, nor opportunity, to cultivate mathematics, bj
( which alone a strict professional knowledge of astronomy,
•( mechanics, and physics, can be acquired. To have attempted
to adapt the work to both classes — to those who merely seek
lor general information on these subjects, without pursuing
PREFACE.
19
them through their strict scientific details, and to those whose
object is to obtain a profound knowledge of them — would
have assuredly led to the production of a work which would
have been useless to both classes. It would have been unin-
telligible to the popular reader, and insufficient for the scien-
tific student.
Mathematical reasoning and technical phraseology have,
therefore, been almost if not altogether excluded from these
essays. Instead of the rigid demonstrations of which the
propositions and principles are susceptible by the aid of the
language and symbols of the pure mathematics, other proofs
are substituted, expressed in ordinary language, based on or-
dinary notions, and coming within ordinary comprehension.
Illustrations which would be inadmissible in strictly scientific
essays, are here freely used, and even profusely resorted to.
The same position, where it presents any difficulty or ab-
struseness, is presented to the reader successively under dif-
ferent aspects, and elucidated by different illustrations; so that
understanding, which may not be reached by one, will proba-
bly be struck by another. Subjects also are occasionally
selected for discussion, such, foj example, as the plurality of
worlds, which, though quite admissible here, would scarcely
find a fit place in a strictly scientific work.
Great pains have been taken by me, and no expense has
been spared by the publishers, in supplying these volumes
with instructive and useful diagrams. Those which I used in
my public lectures, have been reduced in scale, and engraved
for this purpose. The telescopic views of the planets have
been taken from the drawings of the observers of highest
reputation; and some of the views of the lunar surface, copied
from Madler's drawings, now appear for the first time (so far
as I am informed) in this country.
2Q PREFACE.
In the lectures on the steam-engine, I used large sectional
models as illustrations. In lieu of these, the present vol-
umes are illustrated with an extensive collection of plans
and sections of steam-engines and their various parts, made
on a scale as large as the size of these pages admitted.
Among these, may be mentioned, as more especially de-
serving of attention, the series of eight large drawings of
the locomotive-engines of Messrs. " Stephenson and Com-
pany."
It may be proper to observe here, that, as these discourses
were designed for the use of the general reader, the prac-
tice I have found beneficial in my lectures, of using round
numbers in preference to the exact numerical value, has
been persevered in. Round numbers have the advantage
of being easily impressed on the memory ; and for the pur-
poses of the readers for whose use these volumes are in-
tended, they have all the necessary utility. Thus, for ex-
ample, the distance of the earth from the sun is generally
stated as a hundred millions of miles. This is easily re-
membered. Nor is it of any real importance for the objects
of general information, that the real distance is more ex-
o '
actly ninety-five millions of miles. Again, the pressure of
the atmosphere is a varying quantity, changing not only
daily and hourly everywhere, but even at the same time dif-
fering in different places. It would be impossible to fix in
the memory its average values at each season of the year,
and at different places ; but it is very useful and satisfac-
tory to know that it may be assumed generally to be at the
rate of about fifteen pounds on every square inch of surface
exposed to its action.
\ These volumes have been designed for general informa-
i tion and amusement, rather than for the purposes of refer-
PREFACE. 21
i ____ .^ _
j ence or systematic instruction. Nevertheless, the publishers
i have caused a copious index to be made for the work : the
j same facility of reference is afforded as if the usual order
! were observed in the arrangement and classification of the
j subjects.
DION. LARDNER.
MAY, 1846.
"
^
(
.SEVERAL of the lectures delivered by Dr. LAIV_.TS ?. : ; the r.^y of
New York were reported for " The New York T-.ibt.jK," and were
afterward published in pamphlet form. The last edWon of th^s^ lec-
tures was introduced by a " Sketch of the Prog ess of Physical Sci-
ence," written by Dr. THOMAS THOMSON, of London. The publishers
of this complete edition of Dr. LARDNEK'S lectures deem the following
extracts from that treatise, respecting the physical -jc:cv-.ces of the anc'ents,
an appropriate introduction to these volumes : —
The cradle of the human race was beyond dispute the southern por-
tion of Asia — a delightful climate, where the original inhabitants of the
earth first lived and multiplied. Chaldea and India had attained a high
degree of civilization long before the Greeks and Romans had begun to
emerge from a state of barbarism ; but we know comparatively little of
the attainments in science which these nations had reached. We
are equally ignorant of the progress which mathematical and physical (
inquiries had made in China — not one of the treatises on mathematics,
arithmetic, and astronomy, in the Chinese language, having been trans-
lated into any of the languages of modern Europe. But the resem-
blance between the Chinese and the ancient Egyptians is so very stri-
king, and so complete, that it is difficult to avoid suspecting that they
;' 24 INTRODUCTION.
. — 1
had a common origin. If this were so, China, from its contiguity to
India and Chaldea, and from the delicious nature of its climate, must
have been first furnished with inhabitants. And the Egyptians, if ever j
they were a colony of Chinese, must have been transplanted into Egypt j
long before the commencement of history. It was from Egypt that the j
Greeks drew the first rudiments of their mathematical and physical sci- (
ence ; and the scientific acquisitions of that singular people constitute
everything that we know respecting the progress which the ancients had
made in the investigation of nature.
From the genial climate of the early inhabitants of the east, and the
nature of the life which they led, it was natural to expect that the mag-
nificent spectacle of the heavens would speedily attract their attention.
We are certain that the Chaldeans made astronomical observations at
least as early as the twenty-seventh and twenty-eighth years of the era of
Nabonasser ; that is to say, seven hundred and nineteen and seven hun-
dred and twenty years before the commencement of the Christian era :
for Ptolemy makes use of three observations of the eclipses of the moon,
which took place during these years, and which he found in their rec-
ords. Diogenes Laertius informs us that the Egyptians had preserved
in their annals an account of three hundred and seventy-three eclipses of
the sun, and eight hundred and thirty-two of the moon, which had hap-
pened before the arrival of Alexander the Great in their country. Now
these eclipses required between twelve hundred and thirteen hundred
years to happen. Alexander's visit to Egypt took place in the year 331
before the Christian era. If we add this number to the length of time
during which the Egyptians continued to observe the eclipses of the sun
and moon, we obtain sixteen hundred and thirty-one years before the
commencement of the Christian era for the period at which the Egyp-
tians began to record their observations. This period is rather more
than a century after the death of Moses, and is about twenty-four years
before the institution of the Olympic games ; constituting but a small
part of the forty-eight thousand, eight hundred and sixty-three years du-
ring which they boasted that they had been engaged in making astro-
( nomical observations ; but this was obviously a fable, invented for the pur-
t pose of raising themselves in the opinion of the Macedonian conqueror, j
INTRODUCTION. 25
What progress the Chaldeans and Egyptians had made in astronomy,
\ it is hard to say. They certainly had become acquainted with the plan-
> ets ; but whether the Egyptians had discovered, as Macrobius assures
us, that Mercury and Venus revolve round the sun, is not so clear.
Their notions respecting the length of the solar year, and the mean
length of the lunation, must have been a near approximation to the truth.
This is evident from the famous Chaldean period called Saros. It con-
! sisted of two hundred and twenty-three lunar months, at the end of
> which the sun and moon were in the same situation with respect to each
J other as when the period began. This period includes a certain num-
ber of eclipses of each luminary, which are repeated every saros in the
same order.
The Chaldeans appear to have divided the day into twelve hours, and
to have constructed sun-dials for pointing out the hour. The sun-dial
of Ahaz is mentioned in the Old Testament, on the occasion of the re-
covery of Hezekiah ; but nothing is said about its construction. Un-
doubtedly, however, such sun-dials would require a certain knowledge
of gnomonics — which, therefore, the Chaldeans must have possessed.
That the Egyptians had made some progress in mathematics admits
of no doubt, as the Greeks inform us that they derived their first knowl-
edge of that branch of science from the Egyptian priests. But that the
mathematical knowledge of the people could not have been very exten-
sive, is evident from the ecstasy into which Pythagoras was thrown
when he discovered that the square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled
triangle is equal to the square of the two sides : for ignorance of this
very elementary, but important proposition, necessarily implies very
little knowledge even of the most elementary parts of mathematics.
It was in Greece that pure mathematics first made decided progress.
P
1 The works of three Greek mathematicians still remain, from which we
I have obtained information of all or almost all the mathematical knowl-
> ed^e attained by the Greeks. These are Euclid, Appolonius, and
[ Archimedes.
Euclid lived in Alexandria during the reign of the first Ptolemy.
Nothing whatever is known respecting the place of his nativity ; though
it is certain he lived in Greece, and that he died in Egypt, after the
• 1
) -2G INTRODUCTION.
j foundation of the celebrated Alexandrian school. He collected all the I
elementary facts known in mathematics before his time, and arranged j
them in such an admirable order— beginning with a few simple axioms,
and deducing from them his demonstrations, every subsequent demon-
stration depending on and rigidly deduced from those that immediately
precede it — that no subsequent writer has been able to produce any- >
thing superior or even equal. His "Elements" still continue to be j
taught in our schools, and could not be dispensed with, unless we were )
to give up somewhat of that rigor which has been always so much ad- (
J mired in the Greek geometricians. Perhaps, however, we carry this j
admiration a little too far. The geometrical axioms might be somewhat )
enlarged, without drawing too much upon the faith of beginners. And <
were the method followed, considerable progress might be made in )
mathematics without encountering some of those difficult demonstrations )
that are apt to damp the ardor of beginners.
The elements of Euclid consist of thirteen books. In the first four
he treats of the properties of lines, parallel lines, angles, triangles, and
circles. The fifth and sixth treat of proportions and ratios. The sev-
enth, eighth, ninth, and tenth, treat of numbers. The eleventh and
twelfth treat of solids ; and the thirteenth of solids : also of certain pre-
liminary propositions about cutting lines in extreme and mean ratio. It
is the first four books of Euclid chiefly that are studied by modern ge-
ometricians. The rest have been, in a great measure, superseded by
more modern improvements.
Appolonius was born at Perga in Pamphylia, about the middle of the
second century before the Christian era. Like Euclid, he repaired to (
Alexandria, and acquired his mathematical knowledge from the succes- s
sors of that geometrician. The writings of Appolonius were numerous ,
and profound ; but it is upon his " Treatise on the Conic Sections," in \
eight books, that his celebrity as a mathematician chiefly depends.
The conic sections, which, after the circle, are the most important of /
all curves, were discovered by the mathematicians of the Platonic school ; (
though who the discoverer was is not known. A considerable number j
of the properties of these curves were gradually developed by the Greek !•
geometricians. And the first four books of Appolonius are a collection <
f
INTRODUCTION. _ 27
of everything known respecting these curves before his time. The last
four books contain his own discoveries. In the fifth book he treats of
the greatest and smallest lines which can be drawn from each point of
their circumference, and many other intricate questions, which required
the greatest sagacity and the most unremitting attention to investigate.
The sixth book is not very important nor difficult ; but the seventh con-
tains many very important problems, and points out the singular analogy
that exists between the properties of the various conic sections. The
eighth book has not come down to us. The fifth, sixth, and seventh
books, were discovered by Borelli, in Arabic, in the library of the grand-
duke of Tuscany. He got them translated, and published his translation,
with notes and illustrations, in the year 1661. Dr. Halley published an
t edition of Appolonius in 1710, and has supplied the eighth book from
the account given by Pappus of the nature of its contents.
Archimedes was, beyond dispute, the greatest mathematician that an-
tiquity produced. He was born in Sicily, about the year 2S7 before the
Christian era, and is said to have been a relation of Hiero, king of Syr-
acuse. So ardent a cultivator was he of the mathematics, that he was
accustomed to spend whole days in the deepest investigations, and was
wont to neglect his food, and forget his ordinary meals, till his attention
was called to them by the care of his domestics. His studies were par-
ticularly directed to the measurement of curvilinear spaces ; and he in-
vented a most ingenious method of performing such measurement, well
known by the name of the " Method of Exhaustions."
When it is required to measure the space bounded bv curve lines,
the length of a curve, or the solid bounded by curve surface.1 he inves-
tigation does not fall within the range of elementary geoiT.—1 -y. Recti-
linear figures are compared on the same principle as superposition ; but
this principle can not be applied to curvilinear figures. It occurred to
Archimedes, that, by inscribing a rectilinear figure within, and another
without the figures, two limits would be obtained, the one greater and
the other smaller than the area required. It was evident that, by in-
creasing the number, and diminishing the sides of these figures, these
two limits were made continually to approach each other. Thus they
came nearer and nearer to the curve area which was intermediate be-
28 INTRODUCTION.
tween them. He observed, by thus increasing the number of sides for a ?
great number of times successively, that he approached a certain as-
signable rectilinear area, and could come nearer to it than any difference
how small soever. It was evident that this rectilinear area was the
real size of the curvilinear area to be measured. It was in this way that
he found that two thirds the rectangle under the abscissa and crdinate
of a parabola, is equal to the area contained by the abscissa and ordi-
nate, and that part of the circumference of the parabola lying between
them. In the same way he obtained an approximate measure of the
area of the circle, demonstrating that if the radius be unity, the circum-
ference is less than 3}§, and greater than 3}f. His two books on the
sphere and cylinder were conducted by a similar method of reasoning.
He measures the surface and solidity of these bodies, and terminates his
treatise by demonstrating that the sphere (both in surface and solidity) is
two thirds of the circumscribed cylinder.
In the same spirit his " Treatise on Conoids and Spheroids" was
conducted. These names he gave to solids formed by the revolutions
of the conic sections round their axis. We pass over his researches on
the " Spiral el Archimedes," as it is usually called, though in reality dis-
covered by Conon, one of his friends ; but must notice the treatise enti-
tled " Psany nites," or " Arenarius." Some persons had affirmed that
no number, however great, was sufficient to express the number of
grains of sand situated on the seashore. This induced Archimedes to
write his treatise, in which he demonstrated that the fiftieth term of a
ducuple increasing progression is more than sufficient to express all the
grains of sand contained in a sphere, having for its diameter the distance
bf> \ween the earth and the sun, and totally filled with grains rf sand.
7 :ie treatise is short, but abstruse, in consequence of its imperfect method
o expressing numbers employed by the Greeks. Were our figures
? bstituted for the Greeks letters, the reasoning would be sufficiently
.< nple and clear.
Archimedes did not confine himself to pure mathematics : he turned
his attention likewise to mechanics, and may in some measure be con-
sidered as the founder of that important branch of physical science. He $
first laid down the true principles of statics and hydrostatics. The fqr- /
INTRODUCTION. 29
mer he treats in his work entitled " Isorropica," or " De Equiponderan-
tibus." His statics are founded on the ingenious idea of the centre of
gravity, which he first conceived, and which has been so advantageously
employed by modern writers on statics. By means of this principle,
and a few simple axioms, he demonstrates the reciprocity of the weight,
and the distance in the lever and in balances, with unequal arms. He
determined the centre of gravity of various figures, particularly of the
parabola, with great ingenuity.
His discoveries in hydrostatics were the consequence of a query put
to him by King Hiero. This monarch had given a certain quantity of
gold to a jeweller, to fabricate a crowh, and he suspected that the artist
had purloined a portion of the gold, and substituted silver in its place.
Archimedes was requested to point out a method of determining how
much gold had been purloined, and how much silver substituted. The
method, it is said, occurred to him all at once, while in the bath ; and he
was so transported with joy, that he ran naked through the streets of
Syracuse, crying out, tvpnxa, ev^a, — "I have found it! I have found
it !" The discovery with which he was so deservedly delighted was
this : " Every body plunged into a fluid loses as much of its weight as
is equal to the weight of a quantity of the fluid equal in bulk to the body
plunged in." This discovery furnished him with the method of deter-
mining the specific gravity of pure gold and pure silver. These being
known, he had only to take the specific gravity of the crown, which
(supposing no alteration in volume when the two metals are melted to-
gether) would enable him to discover how much gold and how much
silver it contained.
The first principle being known, Archimedes deducted from it various
other well-known hydrostatical principles, which he consigned in the
first book of his treatise " de Incidentibus in Fluido." The second
book of that treatise is occupied with various difficult questions respect-
ing the situation and stability of certain bodies immersed in a fluid.
The ancients ascribe to him the invention of forty remarkable me-
chanical contrivances ; but nothing more than some obscure notices of
two or three of them have come down to us. His sphere, a machine
by which he represented the movements of the stars and planets, is one
— — — /
t
of the most celebrated. It has been noticed by grave philosophers, and j
sung by poets, as may be seen in the following epigram of Claudian : — ;
;
"Jupiter, in parvo com cerneret ffithera vitro,
Risit, et ad snperos talia verba dedit :
Hnccine mortalis progressa potentia cur®
Ecce Syracusii ludimar arte eenis."
Archimedes wrote a description of this machine, under the name of
" Sphaeropffiia ;" but it is lost, and with it everything respecting the na-
ture of the sphere has perished.
The burning mirrors, by which he is said to have set fire to the Ro-
man vessels in the harbor of Syracuse, were long considered as fabulous.
But BufFon showed how, by placing a number of small mirrors so that
every one of them should reflect the image of the sun to the same point,
heat enough might be produced to kindle wood at the distance of one
hundred and forty feet.
The protracted defence of Syracuse against the Romans, chiefly in
consequence of the wonderful mechanical inventions of Archimedes, is
too well known to be enlarged on here.
If we except the discoveries of Archimedes in statics and hydrostatics,
hardly any other branch of physical science was much cultivated by the
ancients. They have made, indeed, considerable progress in the knowl-
edge of acoustics, so far as music is concerned. In optics they can
scarcely be said to have made any progress of consequence ; and, in as-
tronomy, very little till the time of Hipparchus, who may be considered
as, in some measure, the founder of that sublime science.
Dr. Thomson lays down two methods by which the physical sciences
are advanced : observation and experiment ; and the application of math-
ematical reasoning to deduce new facts from principles already estab-
lished. We give his remarks on observation and experiment, in which
he exhibits an analysis of the theory of Bacon on this subject : —
It was not to be expected that mankind should at first make any rapid
progress in investigating the laws which regulate the changes that take
place in the material world. The objects were too numerous and too
varied, and escaped his attention by their very regularity. Everywhere
? in the early ages of the world, we meet with descriptions of prodigies
INTRODUCTION. . 31
> and wonders, while die regular operations of nature scarcely attracted
5 attention. The method of investigating nature by observation and ex-
' periment was scarcely thought of, except by two individuals, who, by
I means of them, made some progress in mechanics and hydrostatics, and
in astronomy : these were Archimedes and Hipparchus. The mechani-
cal discoveries of Archimedes were slightly extended by Ctesibius and
Hero, by Anthemius, and by Pappus ; while the astronomical observa-
tions begun by Hipparchus were continued by Ptolemy.
But at the revival of letters, in the sixteenth century, a spirit of obser-
vation and inquiry awoke, which nothing could damp, and men began to
pry into the secrets of nature, by the way of experiment. Galileo, in
Italy, and Gilbert, in England, especially the former, constitute remark-
able examples of the successful investigation by experiment. But it was
Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, who first investigated the laws according
to which such experimental investigations should be conducted, who
pointed out the necessity of following these laws in all attempts to ex-
tend the physical sciences, and who foretold the brilliant success that
would one day repay those who should adopt the methods which he
pointed out. This he did in his " Novum Organum," published in the
early part of the seventeenth century.
Before laying down the rules to be followed in his new, or inductive
process, Bacon enumerated the causes of error, which he divided into
four sets, and distinguished, according to the fashion of the times, by the
following fanciful but expressive names: —
Idols of the tnbe ;
Idols of the den ;
Idols of the forum ;
Idols of the theatre.
The idvls of the tribe are the causes of error, founded on human na-
ture in general. Thus all men have a propensity to find in nature a
greater degree of order, simplicity, and regularity, than is actually indi-
cated by observation. This propensity, usually distinguished by the
title of spirit of system, is one of the greatest enemies to its progress that \
science has to struggle with.
The idols of the den are those that spring from the peculiar character
INTRODUCTION.
,1 of v.e individual. Each individual, according to Bacon, has his own
/ dirk cave or den, into which the light is imperfectly admitted, and in
} the obscurity of which an idol lurks, at whose shrine the truth is often
> sacrificed. Some minds are best adapted to catch the differences, others
/ the rsse nblances of things. Some proceed too rapidly, others too
siowly. Almost every person has acquired a partiality for some branch
of science, to which he is prone to fashion and force every other.
The idols of the forum are those which arise out of the intercourse of
society, and especially from language, by means of which men commu-
nicate with each other. It is well known that words, in some measure,
govern thought, and that we cannot think accurately unless we are able
to express ourselves accurately. The same word does not convey the
same idea to different persons. Hence many disputes are merely verbal,
though the disputants may not be aware of the circumstance.
The idols of the theatre are the deceptions which have taken their rise
from the systems of different schools of philosophy. These errors af-
fected the philosophy of the ancients more than that of the moderns.
But they are not yet without their effect, and often act powerfully upon
individuals without their being aware of their effect.
After an historical view of science from its dawn among the Greeks
to his own time, and pointing out the little progress which it had made,
in consequence of the improper way in which it had been cultivated,
Bacon proceeds, in his second book, to point out the true way of ad-
vancing science by induction.
The first object ought to be, to prepare a history of the phenomena
to be explained, in all their modifications and varieties. This history is
to comprehend not only all such facts as spontaneously offer themselves,
but all the experiments instituted for the sake of discovery, or for any of
the purposes of the useful arts. It ought to be composed with great
care; the facts should be accurately related and distinctly arranged —
their authenticity carefully ascertained, and those that are doubtful should
le marked as uncertain, with the grounds for the judgment formed.
Tin* record of facts Bacon calls natural history.
The next object is, a compaiison of the different facts, to find out the
cause of the phenomenon.
INTRODUCTION. 33 '
The method of induction here laid down is applicable to all investi- !
gations where experience is the guide, whether in the moral or natural I
world.
It is obvious that all facts, even supposing them truly and accurately
recorded, are not of equal value in the discovery of truth. Some of
them show the thing sought for in its highest degree, others in its lowest;
some show it simple and uncombined, while others are confused with a
variety of circumstances. Some facts are easily interpreted, others are
very obscure, and are understood only in consequence of the light thrown
on them by the former. This led Bacon to consider the comparative
value of facts as means of discovery. He enumerates twenty-seven dif-
ferent species ; but we shall satisfy ourselves here with noticing a few of
the most important of them : —
1. Instantice solitaries are examples of the same quality existing in two
bodies, which have nothing else in common ; or of a quality differing in
two bodies, which are in all other respects the same.
2. The instantice migrantes exhibit some nature or property of bodies
passing from one condition to another, either from less to greater, or
( from greater to less. Thus, glass while entire is colorless, but becomes
> white when reduced to powder.
3. The instantice ostensivce show some particular nature in its highest
state of power or energy. In this way the thermometer shows the ex-
pansive power of heat, and the barometer the weight of air.
4. The instcntia analogies consist of facts between which an anal-
ogy or'ressmU-r.ce is visible in some particulars, notwithstanding great
diversity in all the rest. Such are the telescope and microscope in
works of art, compared with the eye in the works of nature.
5. The instantice crucis is the division of this experimental logic |
which is the most frequently resorted to in the practice of inductive in-
vestigation. When, in such an investigation, the understanding is, as it
were, placed in equilibrio between two or more causes, each of which
accounts equally well for the appearances, so far as they are known,
nothing remains but to look out for a fact which can be explained by the <J
one of these causes, and not by the other. If such a fact can be fouDd,
the uncertainty is removed, and the true cause becomes apparent. Such '
VOLi. I.— 3
facts perform the office of a cross, erected at the meeting of two roads, to $
direct the traveller which way he is to go. On this account, Bacon j
gave them the name of instantia crucis. Suppose it were inquired into ;
why metals become heavier when calcined, various explanations might \
be conceived. But the cxpcrimentum crucis of Lavoisier removed the
ambiguity. He enclosed a quantity of tin in a large glass vessel, which
was hermetically sealed. Heat being then applied, the tin melted and
was partly calcined. The process being finished, the weight of the glass
and its contents were found unchanged. But the glass being opened, a
quantity of air rushed in, amounting in weight to ten grains ; and the tin
was found to have increased in weight to ten grains. It was obvious
from this, that by the calcination of the tin a portion of the air had been
absorbed, which had occasioned the increase of the weight.
In cases where an exyerimentum crucis cannot be resorted to, there is
often a great want of conclusive evidence. This is the case in agricul-
ture, in medicine, in political economy, &c. To make one experiment
similar to another in all respects but one, is what the cxpcrimentum crucis
and the principle of induction in general requires. But this, in the sci-
ences just named, can seldom be accomplished. Hence the great diffi-
culty of separating the causes, and allotting to each its due proportion of
the effect. Men deceive themselves in consequence of this continually,
and think they are reasoning from fact and experience, when in reality
they are drawing their conclusions from a mixture of truth aid false-
hood. Facts so incorrectly apprehended only serve to render srror
more incorrigible.
Of the twenty-seven classes into which instantia are arranged by
Bacon, fifteen address themselves immediately to the understanding ;
five serve to correct or inform the senses ; and seven to direct the hand
in raising the superstructure of art on the foundation of science. The
examples which we have selected are from the first of these divisions.
The other two are of inferior importance, and may be omitted in this
imperfect summary.
Such are the rules laid down by B&con for prosecuting the sciences by
induction. The effects which were ultimately produced by the " Novum '
i| Organiun" must have been very great. It may be questioned, indeed, >
INTRODUCTION. 35
whether those who have contributed most effectually to the advancement (
of the sciences, have rigidly adhered to Bacon's rules. And, in gen- >
eral, such a rigid adherence is unnecessary ; because so much assistance 5
can, in general, be derived from what knowledge has been already ac-
quired, that a rigid natural historical detail of all the phenomena becomes
unnecessary. It was only in the infancy of science that such details
were requisite. Boyle often draws them up in his inquiries into the
cause of various phenomena, and his investigations were of considerable
use in forwarding those branches of science which he cultivated. Bacon
also was mistaken in conceiving that, by investigation, mankind may be-
come acquainted with the essences of the powers and qualities residing in
bodies. So far as science has hitherto advanced, no one essence has
been discovered, either as to matter or as to any of its more extensive
modifications. Thus we are still in doubt whether heat and electricity
be qualities or substances. Yet we have discovered many important
properties or laws, by means of which heat and electricity, whether
properties or substances, are regulated. And from this knowledge,
probably, we derive as much advantage as could be obtained from a
complete knowledge of their essence.
By experiment or observation all the new facts in every science are
acquired. By the application of mathematical reasoning to these facts,
they are reduced to the requisite simplicity, and the general orinciples
which regulate every particular science determined.
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
[NOTE.— The volumes are indicated by the numerical letters i., ii.. and the pages hy fi&urei. A
few changes in the pages of vol. i., require the reader who uses this index, to deduct 6 pages after
page 266. vol. i., and 30 pages after page 328, vol i.]
A.
Action and reaction, ii. 197-204.
^Epinus, his works, i. 133.
Air, elasticity of, ii. 41-60; substance and
color of, i. 193; weight of, i. 194; inertia
of, i. 195; impenetrability of, i. 196 ; ii. 31.
Air, elasticity and compressibility of, i. 198 ;
ii. 31.
Air-drawn dagger, illusion of, i. 264.
Air-pump, the, ii. 47-56, 423.
Alcohol thermometer, ii. 138.
Aldebaran, ii. 338.
Ampere on electro-magnetism, ii. 122 ; his
theory of terrestrial magnetism, ii. 125.
Analysis of the heavens, ii. 378.
Anecdote of Napoleon, i. 369.
Animal and vegetable life sustained by the
atmosphere, i. 59.
Ancient method of directing lightning, ii. 99.
Animalcules, their minute organization, &c.,
ii. 25.
Animal electricity, i. 364.
Annual motion of the earth, i. 480.
Annual variation of the electricity of the
air, ii. 154.
Apparatus for observing the electricity of
the atmosphere, ii. 149, 150.
< Appearance accompanying meteors, i. 460.
; Arago shows how comets may be made to as-
sume different degrees of brightness, i. 517.
Ara-jo's observations on silent lightning, i.
552; his calculation of the quantity of
lightning drawn down by a conductor, ii.
104.
Arcturus, ii. 339.
Arms and feet, motions and positions of, ii.
234.
Arms of the lever, ii. 247.
j Artificial freezing, Leslie's method of, ii. 171.
Artificial light, heat of, ii. 193.
Artificial magnets, construction of, ii. 113.
Astronomical and arithmetical calculations,
i. 183.
Atmosphere, the, i. 58-64, 193-202; limited
height of, i. 198 ; ordinary state of, ii. 151.
Atmosphere of the planets, i. 60; of Saturn,
i. 246 ; of Ceres and Pallas, i. 207.
Atmosphere, various states of (vide Atmo-
spheric Electricity), ii. 149.
Atmospheric air, i. 193-202.
Atmospheric currents at Jupiter, i. 241.
Atmospheric electricity, i. 137; ii. 149-160.
Atmospheric engine invented by Newcomen,
ii. 411.
Atmospheric pressure, i. 295, 296 ; probably
first discovered from the effects of suction
by the mouth, i. 285 ; the pump cannot
act in the absence of atmospheric pres-
sure, 11, 53 ; effects of atmospheric pres-
sure at boiling point, ii. 303 ; upon the
boiling of water, ii. 305.
Atmospheric tides, i. 409.
Atoms, or molecules, ii. 22.
Atoms, ultimate, ii. 26.
Attraction and repulsion of electric cur-
rents, law of, ii. 120.
Aurora Borealis, the, i. 89-100; the effect
of atmospheric electricity, i. 137.
Aurora, phenomenon of, noticed by the
ancients, i. K)0.
Auroral character of falling stars, i. 98.
r
5 38
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
B.
Ball lightning, i. 460, 538, 540, 548.
Balance of torsion, i. 136.
Balance-wheel of a watch, ii. 267.
Barking trees, ii. 78.
Barometer, the, i. 285-304; how to secure
the requisites for a good one, i. 288; di-
agonal barometer, i. 292; wheel barom-
eter, i. 292.
Barometer-gauge, the, ii. 49; applied to
steam-engine, ii. 506.
Barometric column, diurnal variation of the,
i. 410.
Barton's piston, ii. 488, 489.
Beccaria's observations on electricity, i. 127.
Becquerel's objections to Biot's theory of
the aurora, i. 97 ; his experiments in the
higher stratum of air, ii. 157.
Beer and Miidler's telescopic views of the
moon, i. 320.
Beer's observations on the planet Mars, i.
153.
Berard's experiments on the subject of the
radiation of heat, i. 443.
Bessel's discovery of the Parallax, i. 589.
Binary stars, ii. 365.
Biot's excursion to the Shetland isles to
observe the aurora, i. 90 ; his theory and
explanation of it, i. 95.
Biela's comet, i. 425.
Bituminous matter accompanying a lightning
discharge, i. 551.
Bladder burst by atmospheric pressure, ii.
52 ; by elasticity of air. ii. 52.
Blinkensop's patent locomotive engine, ii.
531 ; his patent for the application of the
rack rail, ii. 531.
Blood, globules of the, ii. 25.
Blue sky, the cause of, i. 194.
Boiler, steam, ii. 496-513.
Boilers and their appendages, ii. 407.
Boiling points and latent heats in other
liquids than water, ii. 312.
Boiling, the process of, ii. 298.
Bread panic in London, i. 160.
Breathing i. 299.
Brewster's investigations on the subject of
the theory of colors, i. 577.
Broken planets, fragments of, i. 206.
Brunton's self-regulating furnace, ii. 513.
Burning-glass, ii. 192.
C.
Calorific effects of the srn's rays, i. 490.
Calorific powers cf the secindary pile, i. 377.
Canton's experiments in eiectric.ty, :. 130.
Capstan, ii. ?~>1.
Captive balloons, ii. 1C4.
$ Carriage, centre of pravitv of a, ii. 233.
j Cart-.irlght's engin3, .:i. 485 ; hie piston, ^87.
) Castor, ii. 342.
I Cavendish's experiment o.i the weights of
bodies, i. ;
Celestial globe, uses of, ii. 342.
Central eclipse of the sun, i. 69, 83.
Centre of gravity, ij. 221-240; how found,
ii. 223.
Centrigrade thermometer, ii. 138.
Ceres discovered by Piazzi, i. 206.
Ceres and Pallas, magnitude and appear-
ance of, i. 208.
Centrifugal force, on what it depends, ii. 466.
Charged clouds, action of on light bodies,
i. 607.
Chemical action, effects of, discovered by
Davy, i. 372.
Chemical changes operated by lightning, ii.
65.
Chemical combination, ri. 321.
Chronometer, ii. 264 ; uses of the, i. 569-
570.
Clairaut applies the principles of gravitation
to Halley's comet, i. 182; his researches,
i. 182 ; predicts the discovery of the planet
Herschel, i. 184.
Climate and temperature of places changed
by the presence or absence of the atmo-
sphere, i. 64.
Clock, floral, i. 56.
Clouds, i. 60 ; ii. 175 ; character and elec-
tric charge of, i. 532.
Clouds, luminous, i. 545, 546.
Coal, analysis of, ii. 493.
Cocks and valves, ii. 474.
Cold fusion, Franklin's, ii. 66.
Cold, supposed rays of, i. 453.
Colors, theory of, i. 575-582.
Combustion, i. 334 ; ii. 321-328, 494 ; with-
out flame, ii. 324; of gas in flues, ii. 41'^.
Combustion and combustibles, supporters of,
ii. 323.
Combination cf levers, ii. 252.
Comet, Halley's, i. 171-190.
Comets of 1811 and 1680, i. 523; of 1769
and 1843, i. 524 ; of 1844, i. 527; motion
of comets, i. 173 ; how they may be rec-
ognised, i. 173.
Comets' dimensions enlarged as they recede
from the source of heat, i. 517.
Comets, periodic, i. 423-134.
Comets, physical constitution of, i. 513-52S.
Common bellows, i. 299.
Comparative brightness of the stars in rela-
tion to the sun, i. 593.
Compression of steam without loss of heat,
effect of, ii. 310.
Composition and resolution of ftrce, i. 207-
218.
Compressibility, ii. 29.
Concave reflectors, i. 263.
Condenser, the, discovered by Wilkie and
^Epinus, and perfected by Volta, i. 134;
ii. 59.
Condensation, i. 331.
Condensation of steam in the cylinder, ii. 4C1.
Condensation, separate, ii. 422.
Condensing syringe, the, ii. 56».
Conducting bodies, effects of, on lightning,
ii. 73 ; protection afforded by, ii. 74.
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
39
Conduction of heat, i. 333; ii. 179-184.
Conducting powers of bodies, ii. 181.
Conic sections, i. 174.
Conical valves, ii. 475.
Connecting rod and crank, ii. 459, 469.
Constellations, forms of, ii. 332.
Constellation Cassiopeia, ii. 336.
Consumption of steam, variation in the, ii.
512.
Contemplation of the firmament, and the
reflections thereby produced, i. 51.
Converging and diverging rays of light, ii.
348.
Convex reflector, i. 263.
Cooling, process of, by evaporation, ii. 172,
174.
Cornish system of inspecting steum-engine,
ii. 522.
Corpuscular theory of light, i. 224, 231.
Correspondence betweea the tides and the
phases of the moon, i. 211 ; between elec-
tric and magnetic variations, ii. 155.
Coulomb lays the foundation of electro-stat-
ics, i. 136.
Coulomb's researches on artificial magnets,
ii. 115.
Crane the, ii. 255, 261.
Crowbar and handspike, ii. 247.
Crown and bevelled wheels, ii. 262.
Cruikshank's experiments in galvanism, i.
37i.
Cryophoius, Dr. Wollaston's, ii. 174.
CrvMnllLzHtion of salts, ii. 26.
aU, ii. 27.
Cube, the, ii. 224.
Cupping, ii. 55.
Cycles of nineteen years, i. 417; of nine
years, i. 419.
Cylindrical cock, the, ii. 481.
D.
Dalton's law of liquids, ii. 166.
Damper, self-regulating, ii. 513.
Dampness, dangerous effects of, ii. 173.
Dancers, position of, ii. 235.
Danger from lightning during storms, ii.
101.
Davy's researches on the subject of galvan-
ism, i. 371 ; his celebrated Bakerian lec-
ture; prize awarded him by the French
academy, i. 379 ; discovery of the trans-
ferring power of the pile in chemical ac-
tion, i. 379 ; his electro-chemical theory,
i. 379.
Day and night, inequalities of, i. 485.
Days and nights of the planets, i. 56.
Death of Prof. Richmann, i. 120.
Deceptive oral disk in the horizon, ii. 91.
Decomposition of water, i. 370; of distilled
water, i. 380; of potash and soda, i. 385.
Deluse, the, was it produced by Whiston's
comet, i. 429 ; Mosaic account of the, ii.
77.
Density, ii. 28; of the earth, i. 490.
Description of auroras seen at Fort Enter-
prise during the polar voyage of Captain
Franklin, 1/99.
Dew, ii. 175.
Diagonal barometer, i. 292.
Dick's observations on the last appearance
of Halley's comet, i. 188.
Disability, ii. 29.
Dilatation or expansion, i. 328.
Dip of the magnetic needle, ii. 113.
Dipping-needle, invention of, ii. 113.
Discovery of barium, strontium, calcium, and
magnesium, i. 395 ; of induction by Frank-
lin, i. 131.
Disk of the sun concealed by the disk of the
moon, i. 83.
Distribution of the electricity of the air, ii.
156.
Diurnal motion of the earth, i. 485 ; of Ju-
piter, i. 238.
Diurnal rotation, ii. 332 ; of the electricity
of the atmosphere, ii. 153.
Diurnal variation of the magnetic needle,
ii. 115.
Diverging and converging rays of light, ii.
348.
Dog-star, the, or Sirius, ii. 338.
Double stars,'ii. 351, 362, 373.
Double-acting engine, ii. 448, 467, 468.
Double suns, ii. 369.
Dry Voltaic piles, i. 400 ; dry pile regarded
as an extended Voltaic series, i. 401.
Dufaye's experiments in electricity, i. 107.
Duty of a steam-boiler, ii. 520.
Dynamics and statics, ii. 243.
E.
Earth, the, i. 55, 477-498; appearance of,
as seen from the moon, i. 317; annual
motion of, i. 480 ; diurnal motion of, i.
485; negative state of the, ii. 156.
Ebullition, ii. 297-318.
Echo, the cause of rolling thunder, i. 554.
Eclipse, solar, how formed, i. 69.
Eclipses, solar and lunar, i. 79—86.
Eclipses of Jupiter's moons, i. 244.
Ecli ptic, the, whence it derives its name, i. 85.
Ecliptic limits, i. 85.
Effect of light on the retina of the eye, ii.
347.
Effects of lightning, ii. 63-82 ; popular im-
pressions of the effects of thunder, ii. 78;
Effects of steam, ii. 400, 401.
Elastic force, water raised by, ii. 53.
Elastic and inelastic fluids, ii. 403.
Elasticity and compressibility of air, i^
198.
Elasticity of air, ii. 41-60; of fluids, ii. 32;
of steam, ii. 306; of different gases, ii.
404.
Electricity, i. 103-140; resinous and vit-
reous, i. 108; distribution of the elec-
tricity of the air, ii. 156.
Electric acid, i. 379.
Electricity, atmospheric, ii. 149-160.
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
Electric currents circulating round the
globe, ii. 121 ; their effect on animal and
vegetable substances, i. 386.
Electrical experiments in Ei-gland and
France, i. 112.
Electrics and non-electrics, i. 105.
Electric kites, ii. 103, 104.
Electric matter, discharge of i'rom the sur-
face cf the earth, ii. 78.
Electric and magnetic variations, corres-
pondence between, ii. 155.
Electrical machine of Otto Guericke, i. 105.
Electric phenomena observed by the ancients,
i. 103.
Electro-chemical theory, i. 379.
Electrical state of the atmosphere favorable
to the process of barking trees, ii. 78.
Electrized clouds, mutual attraction and re-
pulsion of, i. 533.
Electroscope, Saussure's, ii. 150.
Electro-magnetism, ii. 119—128.
Electro-statics, foundation of laid by Cou-
lomb, i. 136.
Embroidery, gilding of, ii. 24, 25.
Emperor Augustus's sealskin cloak as a
lightning protector, ii. 100.
Encke's comet, i. 423.
Engine-makers, ii. 520.
Enumeration of
Equator and poles, definition of, i. 562.
Equestrian feats explained, ii. 216.
Equilibrium, stable, unstable, and neutral,
ii. 227, 231.
Ericsson's propeller, i. 275 ; his plan of con-
verting a steamer into a sailing craft, or
a sailing vessel into a steamer, i. 278.
Errors of the sense of feeling, ii. 86.
Evaporation, i. 331 ; ii. 163-176.
Evaporation proportioned to horse-power, ii.
519.
Evolution of heat by compressed air, ii. 33.
Excitability of the London public, i. 159.
Expansive action of steam, ii. 436.
Eye, foramen or pupil of, i. 54; structure
'of, i. 223.
f a^roni-s experiments in galvanism, i. 355.
Fahrenheit's thermometer, ii. 138.
\ Fallacies, popular, ii. 85-96.
_7araday's hypothesis of the aurora, i. 98;
Ms researches in electro-magnetism, ii.
P 123.
' Feats of the fire-kin? explained, ii. 90.
> Feeders, self-regulatinjr, for steam-boiler, ii.
, 504, 505.
\ Fell in:,' timber, tae time for, i. 502.
\ Fisure, ii. 21.
'; Filtration, ii. 28.
j* Fin'-cscapes, ii. 273.
( First electric shocks, singular effects of, i.
( HO.
\ Fishes, hrw Uiey adhere to rocks, i. 299.
»-..-^-*- -*
Flaccid bladder swells by the expansion of
air, ii. 52.
; Flame, effects of, i. 138 ; flame produced by
chemical combination, ii. 321; illumin-
ating powers of flame, ii. 324.
Flattering-glass explained, i. 265.
Flat plate, the, ii. 225.
Flies, how they adhere to ceilings, i. 299.
Floral clock, i. 56.
Fluids, elasticity of, ii. 32 ; mechanical prop-
erties of, ii. 402.
Fly-wheel, the, ii. 461.
Force, ii. 22; philosophy of, ii. 208; single
equivalent force, ii. 223.
Force, composition and resolution of, ii. 207-
218.
Force and weight, ii. 244.
Forked lightning, i. 538.
Form of the earth, i. 477.
Form and structure of the steam-boiler illus-
trated, ii. 496.
Form and motion of light, i. 484.
Form and rotation of the sun, i. 72.
Forms of constellations, ii. 332.
Four-way cock, ii. 482.
Fragments of broken planets, i. 206.
Franklin's attention is drawn to the subject
of electricity, i. 113; his experiments and
letters, i. 114; his celebrated theory of
positive and negative electricity, i. 115;
analyzes the phenomena of the Leyden
jar, i. 116; suggests the analogy and
probable identity of lightning and elec-
tricity, i. 119; considered wild and vis-
ionary by the Royal society of London,
i. 121 ; establishes such identity by his
memorable kite experiment, i. 122; his
right to the discovery denied by M. Arago,
i. 123; his claim vindicated, i. 124; his
cold fusion, ii. 66.
Freezing and boiling points, determination
of, ii. 136.
Freezing point, i. 329.
Friction, probable influence of, ii. 152.
Fulcrum, the, ii, 247.
Fulgurites and vitrifications, ii. 67-69.
Fulminary tubes, ii. 67.
Fusible plugs, ii. 511.
Fusion and contraction of metals, ii. 65.
Fusee of a watch, ii. 257.
Fusion, the point of, ii. 188.
G.
Galileo's observations of Jupiter, i. 243; his J
investigations on the subject of stmo- *
spheric pressure, i. 286.
Galvanism, i. 361-402.
Galvanometer, or multiplier, ii. 124.
Galvani an astronomical professor at Bo-
losna, i. 362; hi? experiments on the fros,
i. 262-263; opposed by Volta, i. 364.
Gap in the solar system, i. 205.
Gas, combustion of in flues, ii. 498.
Gasometer, the, i. 303.
Gases, ii. 494.
r
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
Gauge to ascertain the level of water in
steam-boilers, ii. 502.
Geographical surface of the planets, i. 61.
Gilbert's discoveries in electricity, i. 104.
Glass, the cheapest, but not the best mate-
rial for mirrors, i. 265.
Globules of the blood, ii. 25.
Governor, the, ii. 463.
Grate and ash-pit for steam-boiler, construc-
tion of, ii. 499.
Gravity, centre of, ii. 221-240.
Great Bear, ii. 333.
Great comet seen in 1456, i. 178.
Great frost in London, i. 166.
Great power of steam, ii. 401.
Green sea, the cause of, i. 194.
Grey's discoveries in electricity, i. 105.
Grey and Wheeler's experiments in elec-
tricity, i. 106.
Grotthus's hypothesis of galvanism, i. 378.
Groups of the planets, inner and outer, i.
56.
H.
Hadley's sextant, i. 566.
Halley's comet, i. 171-190; his description
of a total eclipse of the sun, i. 83 ; his re-
searches on the subject of comets, i. 180.
Harding discovers Juno, i. 206.
Harris's explanation of ba-11-lightning, i. 541 ;
his lightning-conductors for ships, ii. 104.
Hawksbee's experiments in electricity, i. 105.
Heat, i. 325-334 ; radiation of, i. 437-456 ;
heat evolved by compressed air, ii. 33 ; in
the process of combustion, ii. 495 ; con-
duction of, ii. 179-184.
Heat of artificial light, ii. 193.
Heat and light, relation of, ii. 187-194.
Heat lightning, i. 545.
Heavens, how to observe the, ii. 331-353;
Herschel's analysis of, ii. 378.
Hecla, experiment with the, ii. 565.
Heights, measurement of, i. 297.
Hemispheres, northern and southern, i. 562.
Hemp-packed piston, ii. 484.
Herschel, or Uranus, its diameter, bulk, and
distance from the sun, i. 253.
Herschel's observations of the planet Mars,
i. 152 ; his observations on Sirius, ii. 338 ;
his catalogue of nebulae, ii. 392.
Hish mountains on the planets Mercury and
Venus, i. 148.
) Hook's theory of combustion, ii. 327.
Horse-power of steam-engines, ii. 516.
How comets may be recognised, i. 173.
Howard's improvement in the process of
sugar-refining, ii. 170.
How to observe the heavens, ii. 331-353.
Human body, temperature of the, ii. 88.
Hull's patent for towing ships against wind |
and tide, ii. 443.
Humboldt's observations of land-spout in
the Steppes of South America, i. 600.
Hunter's screw, ii. 291, 292.
Hunting-cog, ii. 264.
Hydrogen gas in coal, ii. 494.
Hygrometers, ii. 168.
Identity of lightning and electricity, i. 119,
549.
Illusion of the air-drawn dagger, i. 264.
Image of an object in a plane reflector, i.
262 ; image of the banks of a lake or river,
i. 265.
Impediments to motion, ii. 34.
Impenetrability, ii. 21 ; of air, i. 196.
Incandescence, ii. 188.
Inclined plane, wedge and screw, the, ii.
283-294.
Jmcompressibility of liquids, ii. 32.
Indicator invented by Watt, ii. 508.
Induction discovered by Franklin, i. 131;
induction between the clouds and the
earth, ii. 72.
Inductive action of lightning, ii. 71.
Inequalities of day and night, i. 485.
Inertia (vide Action and Reaction), ii. 197 ;
in a single body, ii. 198; consequence of
in two or more bodies, ii. 199.
Ink-bottles, i. 301.
Ink-bottle, pneumatic, ii. 174. •
Inundations from subterranean sources, ii. 77.
Invention of the Leyden vial, i. 110; of
lightning conductors, i. 125.
Invisible rays of heat, i. 439.
Isolated clouds discharge lightning, i. 534.
J.
Juno discovered by Dr. Harding, i. 206.
Jupiter, i. 237-244 ; diurnal rotation of, i.
238; belts and telescopic appearance of,
i. 239 ; appearance of the sun at, i. 242;
his satellites, i. 243 ; the variety of his
months, i. 244.
K.
Kepler show a correspondence between the
tides and the phases of the moon, i. 211.
Knee-joint, effect of the, ii. 234.
L.
La Couronne des Tasses, i. 367.
Lalande, i. 183.
Land-spout at Montpellier, France, i. 599 ;
atf Escalades, i. 600; at Marchefroid, i.
601; Ossonval, i. 601.
Laplace's experiments in electricity, i. 139 ;
his nebular hypothesis, ii. 395.
Lardner's experiments on the Great Western
railway in England, ii. 562.
Latent heat, i. 331 ; of steam, ii. 300.
Lateral or divided discharges of lightning,
ii. 107.
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
Lateral shock discovered by Dr.Wilson, i. 1 12.
Latitude, parallel of, i. 562.
Latitudes and longitudes, the, i. 561-572;
how determined, i. 564.
Lavoisier and Laplace's theory of combus-
tion, i. 138; ii. 32(5.
Leather-suckw, effects of, i. 299.
Lepaute, Madame, i. 183.
Leslie's differential thermometer, i. 444; his
method of artificial freezing, ii. 171.
Level of water in a steam-boiler, how indi-
cated, ii. 502.
Lever and wheelwork, the, ii. 243-268.
Lever, three kinds of the, ii. 247 ; rectangu-
lar, ii. 250.
Levers, combination of, ii. 252.
Lexell's comet, causes of its appearance and
disappearance, i. 427.
Leyden vial, invention of tho, i. 110.
Light, i. 223-234 ; velocity of, i. 225 ; waves
of measured by Newton, i. 228 ; a pencil
of, i. 259 ; light of the sun three hundred
thousand times greater than that of the
moon, i. 63; light of comets, i. 515.
Light and heat, uniform supply of, i. 53;
relations of, i. 234.
Light and sound, alliance between, i. 230.
Li .'iiliiina:, the effects of, ii. 63-82; protec-
tion from, ii. 99-108; forked, zigzag,
sheet, and ball, i. 538; rising from the
N earth like a rocket, ii. 78, 79 ; from the
ashes, sm6ke, and vapor of volcanoes, i.
535.
Lightning conductors, i. 125; ii. 75; point-
ed and blunt, ii. 104; for powder mag-
azines, ii. 106.
Li«h;nin? and electricity, identity of, i. 118,
122, 549.
Limbs of animals considered as levers, ii.
248.
Limited height of the atmosphere, i. 198.
Line or lines of least resistance, ii. 108.
Liquids not absolutely incompressible, ii. 32 ;
non-conductors, ii. 183.
Living body a conductor of electricity, ii.
101.
Locomotive engine, the, ii. 528; experimental
trial of on the Liverpool and Manchester
railway, ii. 535; progressive improve-
ment of, ii. 537 ; description of the ten-
der, ii. 543 ; power of the locomotive, ii.
554.
Load between two bearers, ii. 251.
Local and periodical changes of the mag-
netic variation, ii. 115.
London water and air panic, i. 160.
Longitude, how determined, i. 567.
,ig-glass, effects of the, analyzed, i.
264.
Leper's propeller, i. 278.
Loss of steam-power, sources of, ii. 51S.
Lottin's observations of the aurora at Bosse-
kop, on the coast of West Finuiark, in
1838-'39, i. 91.
Lower stratum of air, character of, ii. 156.
Luminiferous ether, i. 22 1.
Luminous coating of the sun, its thickness
measured by Herschel, i. 75.
Luminous rain, ii. 81.
Luminous sleet, ii. 82.
Luminous spots on the dark hemisphere of
the moon, i. 83.
Lunar attraction, theory of, i. 410.
Lunar crater, i. 321.
Lunar influences, i. 501—510.
Lunar mountains, heights of, i. 319.
Lunar surface, physical condition of, i. 316
M.
Machines, mechanic powers of, ii. 245.
Madler's observations and telescopic views
of Mars, i. 153; his telescopic view of
Jupiter, i. 241.
Magdeburgh hemispheres, the, ii. 54.
Magnetic attraction, ii. Ill; known to the
ancients, ii. 112; laws of discovered by
Coulomb, ii. 114.
Magnetic effects of lightning (vide electro-
magnetism), ii. 122.
Magnetic equator, ii. 116.
Magnetic meridian, ii. 111.
Magnetic needle, dip of the, ii. 113.
Magnetic polarity, ii. Ill, 112.
Magnetic poles, northern and southern, ii.
116.
Magnets, artificial, method of making, ii. 114.
Magnetism, ii. 111-116; influence of heat
upon. ii. 115.
Magnetism, electro, ii. 119-128.
Magnetizing power of the electric current at
different distances, ii. 126.
Magnitude, ii. 20; magnitude of the sun, i.
69; change in the sun's magnitude im-
possible, i. 481 ; magnitude of the earth,
i. 479; of the stars, i. 592.
Major planets, the, i. 237-256.
Malus's discoveries in the philosophy of
light, i. 233.
Mars, his distance from the earth, diurnal
xotation, &c., i. 15 J ; his atmosphere and
physical constitution, i. 152; has he a sat-
ellite? i. 153; appearance of the sun at
Mars, i. 155.
Masses of metal melted by lightning, ii. 66.
Maskelvne's experiments on the weishts of
bodies, i. 487, 488.
Matter and its physical properties, ii. 10-
38 ; matter incapable of spontaneous
change, ii. 33.
Measurement of heights, i. 296, 297.
Mechanical effects of lightning, ii. 69 ; of
steam, ii. 436, 437 ; mechanical force of
steam, ii. 419.
Meltin? and boiling points, i. 329.
Mercurial thermometer, ii. 132.
Mercury, its diameter, bulk, &c., i. 143.
Mercury and Venus, their diurnal motion,
seasons, climate, and zones, ii. 145, 146;
their orbits and transits, geographical sur-
face, &c., 147-150.
Meridian of a place, i. 562.
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
43
Meridian, standard, i. 563.
Metallic contact, accidental discovery of the
effects of, i. 363.
Metallic pistons, ii. 485.
Metallic reflectors, i. 265.
Mine?, the drainage of, ii. 441.
Meteor at Dreux and Mantes in France, i.
601; meteor seen and described by Pel-
tier, i. 602; meteor of November, 1833, i.
466; of August, 1838, i. 469.
Meteoric phenomena, various instances of,
i. 474.
Meteoric stones and shooting-stars, i. 459-
474.
Micrometer, description of, ii. 352.
Micrometer-screw, ii. 293.
Micrometric wire, ii. 24.
Milky-way, the, ii. 378.
Minor planets, the, i. 143-156.
Molecules, or atoms, ii. 22.
Moon, the, i. 307-322.
Moon and the weather, i. 405-420.
Moon's influence on the tides, i. 212; on
the weather, i. 315.
Moonlight, ii. 193 ; physical qualities of, i. 3 12.
Motion of comets, i. 173 ; motion not esti-
mated by speed and velocity alone, ii. 199-
201 ; motion absolute and relative illus-
trated, ii. 218.
Motion and pressure, ii. 207.
Morrison's weather almanac, i. 165.
Mosaic account of the Deluge, ii. 77.
Mountain Tycho, appearance of, i. 319.
Mountains of the moon, i. 318.
Multiplier, or galvanometer, ii. 124.
Mutual attraction or repulsion of electrized
clouds, i. 533.
Murray's slides, ii. 476.
Napoleon's invitation to Volta to visit Paris,
i. 367; his liberality, i. 368.
Neap tides, i. 215.
Nebulae and clusters of stars, ii. 383 ; neb-
ulas in the constellation of the Swan and
the Great Bear, ii. 384, 385 ; nebulae re-
solvable into stars, ii. 387; nebulae in
Orion, ii. 388 ; catalogue of nebulae, ii.
392; planetary nebulae, ii. 395.
Nebular hypothesis of Laplace, ii. 395.
Nebulosity, the, i. 519.
Negative state of the earth, ii. 156.
Needles and steel bars magnetized by means
of the electric currents, ii. 121.
Newcomen and Cawley's patent for an en-
gine, ii. 411.
Newcomen's conception of the atmospheric
engine, ii. 411.
Norman discovers the dip of the magnetic
needle, ii. 113.
New metals : potassium, sodium, barium,
strontium, calcium, &,c., i. 395.
New planets, the, i. 205-208.
Newton's speculations on the subject of
comets, i. 179, 425 ; his researches on the
subject of the weights of bodies, i. 487 ;
his explanation of the prismatic spectrum,
i. 577 ; his three propositions, or the laws
of motion, ii. 203.
Nitric acid formed by the electric spark, ii.
65 ; produced during a thunder-storm, ii.
65.
Non-conductors of heat, ii. 183.
Nucleus, the, i. 520.
0.
Object, image of an, in a plane reflector, i.
262.
Oersted's experiments in electro-magnetism
at Copenhagen, ii. 120.
Olbers discovers Pallas and Vesta, i. 206.
Orbit of Halley's comet, its magnitude, i.
187.
Orbit of the moon, i. 321.
Orbits and transits of Venus and Mercury, (
i. 147.
Orbitual motion of comets, i. 513 ; of double *
stars, ii. 365.
Ordinary state of the atmosphere, ii. 151. (
Orion, ii. 336.
Otto Guericke's electrical machine, i. 105.
P.
Paddle-wheels of steamboats, ii. 255 ; de-
fects of common ones for Atlantic steam-
navigation, i. 272.
Paiitzch, a peasant near Dresden, first dis-
covers Halley's comet on its reappearance,
i. 184.
Pallas, i. 206, 208.
Pa pin produces a vacuum by the condensa-
tion of steam, ii. 441.
Papin's invention for rowing vessels age.' *st
wind and tide, ii. 442.
Parallax, the annual, ii. 365.
Parallel forces, ii. 221.
Parallel of latitude, i. 562.
Parallel motion, ii. 454.
Parallelogram of forces, ii. 208.
Paratonnerres, or lightning conductors. ::
102.
Paschal's experiment on atmospheric p- .'-
Pegassus, ii. 341.
sure, i. 287.
Peltier's experimental illustration of th:
phenomena of water and land spouts, i. 635.
Pendulum, the, ii. 265; illustrated and ex-
plained, ii. 266.
Perihelion and aphelion, i. 482.
Period and orbit of Encke's comet, i 473,
424 ; of Biela's comet, i. 426.
Periodic comets, i. 423-434.
Periodic motion of double stars. ;.. 3:7,
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
Periodic stars, ii. 358.
Permament gases, nature of, ii. 315.
Phases of the moon, i. 309.
Philosophy offeree, ii. 208.
Phosphorescence, ii. 194.
Physical constitution of comets, i. 513-528;
of Mars, i. 152.
Piuzzi discovers Ceres, i. 206.
Pion, ii. 336.
Piston, application of the, to steam-engine
illustrated, ii. 486.
Pistons, ii. 484; metallic pistons, ii. 485.
Piston-rod and beam, connexion of, in dou-
ble-acting engine, ii. 453-457.
Plan of the working machinery of an engine,
ii. 547.
Planes of cleavage, ii. 27.
Planetary nebulae, ii. 391.
Planets, are they inhabited? i. 52; their
pnalogy to the earth, i. 53.
Planet Herschel, discovery of predicted by
Clairaut, i. 184.
Plug-frame, ii. 415.
Plurality of worlds, i. 51-64.
Pneumatic trough in the chemical laborato-
ries, i. 302.
Pointed and blunt lightning conductors,?!. 104.
Pointers, the, ii. 334.
Poison's analytical works, i. 139.
Polarity of the magnet, illustrations of, ii. 113.
Pole-star, the, ii. 332.
Pontecoulant predicts a third appearance of
Halley's comet, i. 186.
Pools, disappearance of, i. 607.
Popular fallacies, ii. 85-96.
Popular impressions respecting the effects
of thunder, ii. 78.
Porosity, ii. 28 ; all bodies have pores, ii. 29.
Positive and negative electricity, i. 115.
Potash and soda, decomposition of, i. 385.
Powder-magazines, lightning conductors for.
ii. 106.
Power of a locomotive, ii. 554.
Priming and lugging of the tides, i. 216.
Princeton steamer, i. 280.
Principle of heat, most ordinary sources of,
ii. 183, 184.
Principle of the steam-engine, ii. 314.
Prism, the, i. 577.
Prismatic spectrum, the, i. 438, 577.
Procyon, ii. 338.
Prognostications of the weather by the
ancients, i. 406.
Proper motions of the stars, ii. 370.
Proportion of the diameter to the stroke of
the cylinder of steam-engine, ii. 521.
Prospects of steam-navigation, i. 269-282.
Protection from lightning, ii. 99-108.
Pulley, the, ii. 271-280.
Pulsations of the eye, i. 230.
Q.
Quadrupeds, motion of, ii. 236.
QuicKsilver passing through the porus of
wood, ii. 28.
R.
Rack rail, ii. 531.
Radiation, i. 333.
Radiation of heat, i. 437-456.
Radiation, reflection, and absorption of heat,
i. 446.
Radius-rod, the, ii. 469.
Railway, Liverpool and Manchester, ii.
534.
Railways, ii. 527.
Rain, luminous, ii. 81.
Range of the tides, i. 218, 219.
Range of vision, ii. 357.
Ratchet-wheel, ii. 255.
Rays of heat exist unaccompanied by light,
i. 438.
Rays of light, diverging and converging, ii.
348.
Records of mining, ii. 523.
Rectangular lever, ii. 250.
Red moon, the, i. 502.
Reflection, irregular, i. 260 ; at plane sur-
faces, i. 260; its laws, i. 261 ; at curved
surface, i. 263.
Reflection of light, i. 259-266 ; of liquids, i.
265.
Reflectors, concave and convex, i. 263.
Refraction at plane surfaces, i. 576.
Refraction of a ray of light, i. 575.
Regulus, ii. 338.
Relation of heat and light, ii. 187-194.
Relative brightness of the stars, ii. 346.
Resinous electricity discovered by Dufaye,
i. 108.
Resistance produced by friction, ii. 262 ; ex-
periments on resistance, ii. 263.
Rest and motion, i. 361.
Revolving shafts in spinning machinery, ii.
259.
Richmann, death of, i. 126.
Rigel, ii. 336.
Ritter's secondary pile, i. 376.
Roads regarded as inclined planes, ii. 284.
Rolling thunder caused by echo, i. 554.
Rotatory motion of the planets, i. 56.
S.
Sabine's observations of luminous clouds, i
547.
Safety-valve, the, ii. 511.
Salts, crystallization of, ii. 26.
Sand fused by artificial heat, ii. 69.
Satellites of Saturn, i. 251.
Saturn, his diurnal rotation, i. 245; his at
mosphere and rings, i. 246; when his
rings will be visible at the earth, i. 249;
his satellites, i. 251 ; variety of his months,
i. 251.
Saussure's electroscope, ii. 150.
Savery's engine, ii. 405.
Sawmill at Southampton, England, ii. 259.
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
45
Schxibler's experiments on the influences of
Junar phases, i. 414; his observations of
the electricity of the air, ii. 154, 158.
Science, predictions of, i. 171.
Screens, effects of, i. 451.
Screw, the, ii. 288.
Screw, wedge, and inclined plane, ii. 283-294.
Seasons, the, i. 490 ; seasons of the planets,
i. 58.
Self-regulating feeders for a steam-boiler, ii.
504.
Self-regulating damper, ii. 513.
Sensations, ii. 19.
Senses, fallacious indications of the, ii. 85.
Sense of feeling, errors of, ii. 86.
Seward's slides, ii. 479.
Shadow of the earth, i. 80 ; of the moon,
i. 82.
Sheet lightning, i. 539.
Shooting stars and meteoric stones, i. 459-
474.
Silent lightning, i. 545.
Single-acting engine, ii. 428.
Single cock, the, ii. 481.
Single clack-valve, the, ii. 474.
Siphon-gauge, the, ii. 49.
Sirius, or the Dog-star, ii. 338.
Sleet, luminous, ii. 82.
Slide-valves, ii. 476.
Smeaton's tackle, ii. 275.
Smellins, deceptions of, ii. 95.
Soap-bubbles, thickness of, ii. 24.
Solar eclipse, i. 83. ,
Solar system, the, i. 53, 172; ii. 239; mo-
tion of, ii. 371.
Solomon's temple supposed never to have
been struck with lightning, ii. 106.
Sound and light, alliance between, i. 230.
Sound cannot be transmitted in the absence
of air, ii. 56.
Space beyond the limits of the solar system,
i. 585.
Spanish bartons explained, ii. 277, 278.
Specific heat, i. 332.
Spectrum, the, how produced, i. 578.
Speed of lightning, i. 541.
Spheroidal form of the earth proved, i. 495-
498.
Spheroid, oblate and prolate, ii. 224.
Spica, ii. 338.
Spontaneous change, matter incapable of, ii.
33.
Spontaneous motion, ii. 36.
Spots on the sun. i. 73.
Spring tides, I. 215.
Spur-wheels, ii. 262.
Stars, immense distance of the, i. 589 ; dif-
ferent magnitudes or orders of stars, i.
590-592 ; relative brightness of, ii. 346 ;
double stars, ii. 351, 365,373; periodic
stars, ii. 358; temporary stars, ii. 360;
binary stars, ii. 365; the visible stars, i.
585-596; ii. 350.
Statics and dynamics, ii. 243.
Steam, elasticity of, ii. 306 ; compression of
steam without loss of heat, ii. 310; great
power of steam, ii. 401 ; steam a common
property of all liquids, ii. 405 ; mechan-
ical force of steam, ii. 419; variation in
the consumption and production of steam,
ii. 512.
Steam-boiler, ii. 496-513.
Steam-engine, the (five lectures), ii. 399-
568 ; Watt's inventions and improvements
of the steam-engine, ii. 423-441 ; principle
of the steam-engine (see Ebullition), ii.
314.
Steam-gauge, ii. 506.
Steam-jacket, ii. 424.
Steam-navigation, prospects of, i. 269-282 ;
art of, applied to ocean-voyages, i. 343. •
Steamship
Steam space and water space in steam-boil-
er, ii. 501.
Steam-vessels for national defence, i. 274.
Steelyard, the, ii. 250.
Stellar universe, the, ii. 357—396.
Stephenson;s engines at Killingworth, ii. 533.
Storm converted into a land-s-pout, i. 602.
Storm-clouds, height of, i. 536.
Straight wand, the, ii. 225.
Straps or cords, ii. 258.
Subterranean sources, inundations from, ii.
77.
Suction by the mouth (the effects of) the
means of discovering atmospheric pres-
sure, i. 285.
Suctiun-pipe, the, ii. 407.
Sugar-refining, Howard's improvement in
the process of, ii. 170.
Sulphureous odor developed by lightnin?, ii.
64.
Sulzer's experiment in galvanism, i. 364.
Sun, the, i. 67-76 ; magnitude of the sun, i.
69; its density, form, and rotation, i. 72;
central eclipse of the sun, i. 83 ; sun's in-
fluence at Venus and Mercury, i. 149; its
appearance at Mars, i. 355; it is the com-
mon centre of the planets, i. 172; sun's
influence on the tides, i. 214; combined
influence of the sun and moon, i. 216 ; the
sun's appearance as seen from Jupiter, i.
2-12; as seen from Saturn, i. 245,246;
calorific effects of the sun's rays, i. 490 ;
horizontal ; appearance of the sun and
moon, ii. 9 1 ; heat of the sun's rays, ii. 193.
S'.m-and-planet wheels, ii. 447.
Supporters of combustion and combustlDes.
ii! 323.
Supposed rays of cold, i. 453.
Surface of the planets, i. 61.
Sword and belt of Orion, ii. 336.
Symmer's theory of electricity, i. 135.
I Syringe, the exhausting, ii. 41 ; the con-
densing syringe, ii. 56.
Systems of pulleys,, ii. 274.
Table showing the te-np?ratJire at which
water wi!1. j.'l unce. ,Uficc ir.t press.ires
of the atmo.<pheie, ii. 3i 5 ; table exhibit-
ing tie me.i.aixical po*e' of water con-
< 46
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
*"*w-s^*»*.
verted into steam at various pressures, ii.
517; table showing the improvement of
Cornish engines, ii. 5'J3 ; table of observa-
tions on the height of storm-clouds by 31.
Arago, i. 537.
Tacking a vessel, process of, ii. 215.
Tails of comets, i. 521.
Tr-ste, deceptions cf, ii. 95.
Teeth of wheel?, ii. 259.
Telescope, limited powers of, i. 51 ; unable
to magnify a star, i. 592 ; philosophy of
xhe telescope, ii. 346 ; ell'ect on lixed stars,
ii. 346.
Telescope, astronomical, i. 480.
Temperature of the sun's r.urface, i. 75.
Temporary stars, ii. 360.
Terrestrial attraction the combined action
of parallel forces, ii. 2'2'2.
Terrestrial magnetism, Ampere's theory of,
ii. 124, 125.
The earth, i. 477-498.
Theorem regulating pressure and motion, ii.
Theory of colors, i. 575-582.
Thermometer, the, i. 329 ; ii. 131-146.
Thermometer, mercurial, advantages of, ii.
132.
Thermo-electricity, ii. 126.
Thermo-electric piie, ii. 127.
Thermo-electric scale of metals, ii. 127.
Throttle- valve, ii. 462.
Thunder, i. 547-549 ; distance at which it
may be heard, i. 553 ; cause of thunder,
i. f.54; popular impressions respecting the
effects of thunder, ii. 78.
Thunder-bursts, i. 545.
Thunder-clouds, common, i. 532.
Thunder-storms, i. 531-558.
Tid:il wave, the great, i. 217.
Tides, the, i. 211-220; correspondence be-
tween the tides and the phases of the
moon, i. 211; the moon's influence on the
tides, i. 212, 213; the sun's influence, i.
214, 215; combined influence of the sun
and moon, i. 216; velocity of the tides, i.
218; range of the tides, i. 218, 219.
Time of day, how found on land, i. 567,568;
at sea, i. 569.
Tints, variety of, how produced by the sim-
ple component colors, i. 581.
Toaldo, the meteorologist, i. 418.
Toothed wheel, the, ii. 292, 293.
i Torricelli, a pupil of Galileo, discovers at-
mospheric pressure, i. 286.
) Total eclipse of the sun, Halley's description
< of, i. 83.
Transferring power of the Voltaic pile, i. 379.
| 1 .ansmission of sound, i. 553.
i Transparent and opaque bodies, i. 450.
• Treadmill, the, ii. 255.
Turning-lathe, the, ii. 248.
Twilight at Venus and Mercury, i. 150.
T-*':-way cock, ii. 482.
U.
Ultimate atom-, '•. °6.
Ultra-r.odiacal planets, i. 207.
Undulatory theory of light, i. 224, 232.
Uniform supply of light and heat from the
sun, i. 53.
Upward flashes of lightning, ii. 72.
Ursa Major or Great Bear, ii. 333.
Ursa Minor, ii. 334.
Useful arts, examples in, ii. 171, 172.
Vacuity between our system and the stars,
i. 586.
Vacuum, maxim of the ancients that "Ma-
ture abhors a vacuum," i. 285, 286; a
perfect one cannot be produced, ii. W ;
vacuum produced by the condensation of
steam, ii. 441.
Valves of double-acting engines, ii. 448.
Valves, slides, and cocks, ii. 474.
Vapor, condensation of, ii. 313.
Vaporization, i. 331 ; ii. 299.
Vaporization and condensation, ii. 299.
Variable stars, how to observe them, ii. 350.
Variation of atmospheric pressure, i. 2i!ti ;
of the magnetic needle, ii. 113.
Variations, local, of the electricity of the
air, ii. 155.
Velocity of the tides, i. 218.
Vent-peg, the, i. 300.
Venus, its diameter, position, &c., i. 145.
Vernier, the, for noting very small changes
in the barometer, i. 294.
Vesta, i. 207.
Visible stars, the, i. 585-596.
Vision, theory of illustrated by a rotating
disk, i. 542; deceptions of vision, ii. 9o ;
range of vision, ii. 357.
Vitreous electricity discovered by Dufaye, i.
108.
Vitrifications and fulgurites, ii. 67-69.
Volcanic lightning, i. 535.
Volcanic thunder-clouds, i. 535.
Volta's experiments in electricity, i. 138;
his theory of contact, i. 364; of the origin
of atmospheric electricity, ii. 151.
Voltaic pile, invention of, &c., i. 366 ;
physical effects of the pile, i. 368; ento-
mological effects, i. 368; mode of action,
i. 390.
Voltaire's investigations on the subject of
comets, adopts Newton's conjectures, i.
179.
Volume and weight of thr mn, i. 70.
Voyages to the north pole •• 56.
W.
Wagon-boiler, the, for steam-engine, ii. 496.
Walking engine, ii. 532.
War-steamers, i. 280.
Waste steam, resistance of t)ie, ii. 554.
Water, decomposition of, i. 370; water raised
by elastic force, ii. 53.
Water-spouts and whirlwinds, i. 599-608; (
spouts witnessed by Capt. Beechy, i. 60? J
ANALYTICAL INDEX.
47
W:,t-T wheels, ii. 255.
Watch, general view of, ii. 267.
W.itch-sprin:r, ii. 257.
Watson and Bevitr's experiments in elec-
tricity, i. 111.
Watt's inventions and improvements iu the
steam-engine, ii. 423-440 ; his air-pump,
ii. 423 ; his experimental apparatus, ii.
425 j his first patent for a steam-engine,
ii. 428; his steam-indfcator, ii. 5^)8; his
counter for the steam-ensine, ii. 510.
U'enther almanacs, i. 159-168.
Waves of lisht, minuteness of, i. 229.
UY'l-re, the, ii. 287.
\\~- -<i je, screw, and inclined plane, ii. 283-
294.
Weight of air, i. 94; of the earth, i. 487.
AVi i-.jht and force, ii. 244.
Wdls's theory of dew, i. 456.
Westerly winds, their effects on sailing ves-
sels,,!". 341.
Wht-atstone's experiments on the speed of
lightning, i. 541.
Wh> •(•!, the, applied to the steam-engine, ii.
447*
Wheel and axle, ii. 253.
Wheel barometer, i. 292.
Wheelwork, ii. 253.
Wheelwork and the lever, ii. 243-268.
WheweH's researches oa the subject of the
tides, i. 217.
Whirlwinds and water-spouts, i. 599-608.
Whiston's co.Tiet, ami his theory, i. 428. *
White's pulley, ii. 276.
Williams's patent for a method of^consuming
unburnt gases, ii. 499.
Wilson discovers the lateral shock, i. 112.
I Wind, action of on sails of vessels, ii. 213.
| Wind and water-mills, Sineaton's improve-
ments ot, ii. 443.
i Windlass, the, ii. 254.
j Wings of insects, ii. 24.
| Wollaston's cryophorus, ii. 174.
Wollaston's micrometric wire, ii. 23, 24;
his inrettifationi on the subject of the
comparative ebrishtness »nd magnitude of
the stars, i. 5t(3.
Woolf's piston, ii. 485.
Working-machinery of a locomotive engine,
plan of, ii. 547.
Worlds, plurality of, i. 51-64.
Y.
louns; s discoveries in the philosophy of
light, i. 233.
Z.
Zigzag lightning, i. 538, 556.
j Zodiacal constellations, ii. 338.
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
Contemplation of the Firmament — Reflections thereby suggested. — Limi'e'*. Powers of the Tele-
scope.— What it can do for us. — Its effect on the Appearances of the Hancut.- -Are the Planets in-
habited?— Circumstantial Evidence. — Analogies of the Planets to the Earth. — Plan of the Solar
System.— Uniform Supply of Light and Warmth. — Expedient for securing it^Different Distances of
the Planets do not necessarily infer different Temperatures — nor different Degrees of Light. — Ad-
mirable Adaptation of the Rotation of the Earth to the Organization of its Inhabitants. — The same
Provision exists on the Planets. — Minor and Major Planets. — Short Days on the latter. — The Sea-
sons.— Similar Arrangement on the Planets. — The Atmosphere. — Similar Appendage to the Plan-
eU. — Many uses of the Atmosphere. — Clouds. — Rain, Hail, and Snow. — Mountains on the Plan-
et*.— Land and Water. — Weights of Bodies on the Planets analogous to Weight on the Earth. —
Appearances of the San. — Conclusion.
' The Heaven§ declare the glory of God :
And the Firmament showeth his handy- work."
Fixix.1.
•
I
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
WHEN we walk forth on a serene night and direct our view to the aspect
of the heavens, there are certain reflections which will present themselves to
every mind gifted with the slightest power of contemplation. Are those
shining orbs which so richly decorate the firmament peopled with creatures
endowed like ourselves with reason to discover, with sense to love, and with
imagination to expand toward their limitless perfection the attributes of Him
of " whose fingers the heavens are the work ?" Has He who " made man lower
than the angels to crown him," with the glory of discovering that light in which
he has " decked himself as with a garment," also made other creatures with
like powers and like destinies ; with dominion over the works of his hands,
and having all things " put in subjection under their feet ?" And are those re-
splendent globes which roll in silent majesty through the measureless abysses
of space, the dwellings of such beings ? These are questions which will be
asked, and which will be answered. These are inquiries against which nei-
ther the urgency of business nor the allurements of pleasure can block up the
avenues of the mind. These are questions that have been asked, and that
will continue to be asked, by all who view the earth as an individual of that
little cluster of worlds called the solar system.
Those whose information on topics of this nature is limited, would be prompt-
ed, in seeking the satisfaction of such inquiries, to look immediately for direct
evidence ; and consequently to appeal to the telescope. Such an appeal
would, however, be fruitless. Vast as are the powers of that instrument, and
great the improvements which have been conferred upon it, it still falls infi-
nitely short of the ability to give direct evidence on such inquiries. What
will a telescope do for us in regard to the examination of the heavenly bodies,
or indeed of any distant object ? It will accomplish this, and nothing more :
it will place us at a less distance from the object to which we direct our view ;
it will enable us to approach it within a certain limit of distance, and to behold
it as we should do without a telescope at the lesser distances. But, strictly
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
speaking, it cannot accomplish even this ; for to suppose it did, would be to
imagine it to possess all the admirable optical perfection of the eye. That
instrument, however nearly it approaches the organ of vision in its qualities,
is still deficient in some of the attributes which have been conferred upon the
eye by its Maker. It is" found that in proportion as we augment the magnify-
ing power of the telescope, we diminish both the quantity of light upon the
object we behold, and also the distinctness of its features and outlines. These
and some other circumstances peculiar to the telescope, which need not be
particularly detailed now, impose a limit on the magnifying powers that are
practically available in inquiries of this kind.
Let us, however, suppose that we could resort to the use of a telescope hav-
ing the magnifying power of a thousand in examining any of the heavenly
bodies : what would such an instrument do for us ? It would in fact place us
a thousand times nearer to the object that we are desirous to examine, and thus
enable us to see that object as we should see it at that diminished distance
without a telescope at all. Such is the extent of the aid which we should
derive from the telescope. Now, let us see what this aid would effect. Take
the case of the moon, the nearest body in the universe to the earth. The dis-
tance of that object is about 240,000 miles ; the telescope would then place us
about 240 miles from it. Could we at the distance of 240 miles distinctly, or
even indistinctly, see a man, a horse, an elephant, or any other natural object ?
Could we discern any artificial structure ? Assuredly not ! But take the case
of one of the planets. When Mars is nearest to the earth, its distance is
about 50,000,000 of miles. Such a telescope would place us at a distance of
50,000 miles from it. What object could we expect to see at 50,000 miles'
distance ? The planet Venus, when nearest the earth, is at a distance some-
thing less than 30,000,000 of miles, but at that distance her dark hemisphere
is turned toward us ; and when a considerable portion of her enlightened hem-
isphere is visible, her distance is not less than that of Mars. All the other plan-
ets, when nearest to the earth, are at much greater distances. As the stars
lie infinitely more remote than the most remote planet, it is needless here to
add anything respecting them.
It is plain, then, that the telescope cannot afford any direct evidence on
the question whether the planets, like the earth, are inhabited globes. Yet,
although science has not given direct answers to these questions, it has sup-
plied a body of circumstantial evidence bearing upon them of an extremely in-
teresting nature. Modern discovery has collected together a mass of facts
connected with the position and motions, the physical character and conditions,
and the parts played in the solar system by the several globes of which that
system is composed, which forms a body of analogies bearing on this inquiry,
even more cogent and convincing than the proofs on the strength of which we
daily dispose of the property and lives of our fellow-citizens, and hazard our
own.
In considering the earth as a dwelling-place suited to man and to the crea-
tures which it has pleased his Maker to place in subjection to him, there is a
mutual fitness and adaptation observable among a multitude of arrangements
which cannot be traced to, and which indeed obviously cannot arise from, any
general mechanical law by which the motions and changes of mere material
masses are observed to be governed. It is in these conveniences and luxuries
with which our dwelling has been so considerately furnished, that we see the
beneficent intentions of its Creator more immediately manifested, than by any
great physical or mechanical laws, however imposing or important. If — having £
a due knowledge of our natural necessities — of our appetites and passions— of )
our susceptibilities of pleasure and pain — in fine, of our physical organization — I
.•+s~*rf
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
53
we were for the first time introduced to this glorious earth with its balmy atmo-
sphere— its pure and translucent waters — the life and beauty of its animal and
vegetable kingdoms — with its attraction upon the matter of our own bodies just
sufficiently great to give them the requisite stability, and yet not so great as to
deprive them of the power of free and rapid motion — with its intervals of light
and darkness, giving an alternation of labor and rest nicely corresponding with
our muscular power — with its grateful succession of seasons, and its moderate
extremes of temperature, so justly suited to our organization : with all this
fitness before us. could we hesitate to infer that such a place must have been
provided expressly for our habitation ? If, then, the discoveries of modern
science disclose to us in each planet, which, like our own, rolls in regulated
periods round the sun, provisions in all respects similar — if they are proved to
be habitations similarly built, ventilated, warmed, illuminated, and furnished —
supplied with the same alternations of light and darkness by the same expe-
dient— with the same pleasant succession of seasons — the same geographical
diversity of climates — the same agreeable distribution of land and water — can
we doubt that such structures have been provided as the abodes of beings in
all respects resembling ourselves ? The strong presumption raised by such
proofs is converted into a moral certainty, when it is shown from physical anal-
ogies of irresistible force that such bodies are the creation of the same Hand
that raised the round world and launched it into space. Such, then, is the na-
ture of the evidence which science offers on this interesting question. Let us
endeavor to strip it of such technical forms of language and reasoning as are
intelligible only to the scientific, and to present it so as to be easily and
agreeably comprehended.
If we look at a plan of the solar system, the first glance will impress us with
an idea that the earth is an individual of a class ; that that class is the planets ;
that the sun is an object provided for different purposes, and the same may be
said of the satellites. We take this impression from the simple fact that the
planets, including the earth among the number, move round the sun as a centre
in circles all in the same direction, and nearly in the same plane ; while the
satellites or moons (in a manner which we shall hereafter notice) revolve re-
spectively round the planets. The impression is irresistible that the planets,
including the earth, form a class ; but let us see the purposes in the economy
of nature which are fulfilled by this common character given to the motion of
the planets and the position of the sun. We find, upon considering the quali-
ties of organized bodies, and especially the species of the animals and vegeta-
bles upon the earth, that the maintenance of their physical well-being is essen-
tially dependant on the uniformity and regularity with which they are supplied
with the two great physical principles of light and heat. Should these, or
either of them, be subject to any extreme variations, such vicissitudes would
be incompatible with the organization of the species. There is a cold on one
hand and a heat on the other, under which no organized body could continue
to exist, and there are still narrower limits within which it is necessary to
confine the temperatures they are exposed to in order to secure the perfec-
tion of their physical health. There are also degrees of light, the intensity
of which would be incompatible with the continued perfection of the organs of
vision.
We see, then, how essential to the well-being of the infinite varieties of crea-
tures that people this globe, a uniform regulation of light and heat is. How,
then, is this great and important end attained 1 If we had a fire which at once
supplied light and heat in our neighborhood, and that circumstances obliged us
continually to shift our position in regard to it, but at the same time so to order
our movements as to receive from it a uniform intensity of light and heat, how
54
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
should we move ? Should we not take care to keep always at the same dis-
tance from it ? And to accomplish this, should we move in any other path
than that of a circle, having the fire in the centre ? This, however, is precisely
what is accomplished by the annual motion of the earth. It traverses its course
round the central fire of the system, keeping always nearly at the same distance
from the inexhaustible fountain of light and warmth. By this simple expedient
of observing a circular path, with the sun in the centre, this necessary object
is attained.
Now, in examining the movements of all the other planets, we find that the
same expedient is provided : that they severally, in their periodical courses,
like the earth, preserve uniform distances from the sun — moving round that
body in circles, of which it is the common centre.
Seeing, then, that this motion in the case of the earth is a means whereby an
important end is attained, analogy justifies the conclusion that it is to be re-
garded likewise as a means for the attainment of a similar end in each of the
planets. But it will probably be said that the planets are at different distances
from the sun ; that the most remote of them is nearly twenty times farther from
that luminary than the earth, while the nearest of, them is little more than one
third the earth's distance ; therefore, that although it must be admitted that each
planet (considered per se] is supplied uniformly with light and warmth by this
circular motion ; yet the intensity of these principles to which the several
planets are exposed, comparing one with another, is so extremely different as
to destroy all analogy between them.
In answer to this, we are, however, to consider that the influence of light and
heat upon a planet does not depend solely on its distance from the sun. The
heat, as is well known, produced by the solar rays, depends on the density of
the air which surrounds the objects affected by it. Thus we find the tempera-
ture, at great elevations in our own atmosphere, considerably lower than at the
mean surface of our globe ; because at these elevations the air becomes so thin
as to be incapable of collecting and retaining the sun's heat. We can there-
fore easily imagine, provided the existence of their atmospheres be conceded,
that their density has been so regulated, that the nearest planets to the sun,
which receive the greatest intensity of its rays, may not, after all, be more
heated than the most remote ones, which are exposed to the least intensity of
its rays : just as we find that the temperature of the summits of lofty mount-
ains at the tropics is as low as the temperature of some of the polar latitudes.
It is plain, then, how the effects of the various distances of the planet from
the sun may be equalized and compensated. The means of accomplishing this
are provided in the form of atmospheres, as we shall presently see.
But let us turn to the consideration of the solar light. The intensity of the
sun's light varies with his distance exactly in the same proportion as that of
his heat ; and the brightness of a day in the most remote planet would be less
than that of a day in the nearest in the same proportion as the sun's heat would
be less. It may therefore be objected that there might be scarcely daylight
enough in the planet Herschel to serve the purposes of social and civil life.
Such might undoubtedly be the case if we were to deny the possibility of any
variation, however minute, in the organs of vision ; but without denying this,
let us consider how the matter would stand. The perception which the eye
of any creature acquires of light, depends (cateris paribus) upon the magnitude
of the circular aperture or foramen, in front of the eye, called the pupil, which
has, externally, the appearance of a circular black spot ; but which is, in
) reality, a circular hole through which the light is admitted to the interior of the
I chamber of vision, there to affect the membranous coating which transmits its
j influence to the brain and causes the sensation. It must be evident, even to
W->-~.
THE PLUEAL1TY OF WORLDS.
55
the least informed, that the brightness of light will then depend upon the mag-
nitude of this foramen. Granting that there are two eyes, in one of which the
pupil is twice as large as it is in the other, the organ being in all other respects
the same, then it is evident that one would admit twice as much light as the
other. If, then, the large pupil was exposed to light of only one half the in-
tensity or brightness of that to which the smaller one is exposed, then the two
lights would appear to these eyes of the same brilliancy, although in fact, one
would be only half as bright as the other. What, then, shall we say of the
planets ? Grant that the pupils of the eyes of all creatures endowed with
vision upon them are enlarged in their opening according as the planets are
more removed from the sun and diminished as they are nearer to that luminary,
and the whole difficulty arising from the varying intensity of light will vanish.
The inhabitants of all the planets will, in fact, enjoy days of the same bright-
ness, notwithstanding the extreme difference of their distances from the sun.
In considering closely the physical powers of locomotion and strength con-
ferred upon animals on the surface of the earth, we find that they have certain
limitations ; that animals are capable of exercising the powers of locomotion
for certain periods of time, varying, it is true, among individuals, but still in
the main comprised within certain narrow limits. We find that after the lapse
of certain intervals, bodily repose is wanted. But besides the disposition to ac-
tivity and locomotion and the alternate want of rest, animals in general have
also other physical wants and capabilities of enjoyment which are periodical.
Thus they are capable of wakefulness for certain periods, after which recurs the
physical want of sleep.
Now upon a general survey of the creation, it is found that the average pe-
riods which must regulate the intervals of labor and rest, of wakefulness and
sleep, corresponds in the main with those which regulate the alternations of
light and darkness. In the vegetable kingdom we find prevailing also peri-
odical functions, certainly not so obvious and apparent, but not on that ac-
count the less interesting, which are ascertained to have the same close
alliance with the period that regulates the returns of light and darkness.
Plants undergo certain changes and suffer certain effects, in the presence
of solar light, which are different from, and in some respects contrary to, those
which they undergo in its absence. These changes are essential to the vege-
table health of the creature ; without them the tribes of plants would be
extinct. The duration of these operations is just as essential as their alterna-.
tions. Light must be present a certain time and neither more nor less ; and its
absence must be equally regulated by limits, otherwise the plant must perish.
There is, then, it is evident, an essential relation between the functions and
qualities of the vegetable kingdom — between the power of activity, the suscep-
tibility of enjoyment and the physical wants of animals, and the periods which
separate light from darkness ; but what are those periods ? What is the
mechanical expedient to which He has resorted to accomplish his inscru-
table purposes, who divided the light from the darkness, and " saw that it
was good" Nothing can be more simple. Nothing can be more beautiful.
Nothing can be more admirably perfect. While the globe of the earth makes
its annual course round the sun, it has at the same time a spinning motion, on
a certain diameter, as an axis, in virtue of which it successively exposes all
parts of its surface to the light and warmth of the sun. Each complete rota-
tion is accomplished in the space which we call twenty-four hours ; subject to
a variation which we shall notice hereafter. All points on our earth are alter-
nately exposed to and withdrawn from the solar light ; the average intervals
being twelve hours.
Now when we reflect on the close, the exact correspondence between these
MM^^l^MM
56 THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
intervals and the indispensable wants of all organized creatures, can we for a ?
moment doubt that the earth was made to turn upon its axis in that particular ]
time rather than any other, because it was more conducive than otherwise to
the well being of the countless myriads of species, the production of the Divine
hand, for whose enjoyment the earth was made ? Had the time of rotation been
materially less than it is, our periods of activity and labor would be too short to
prepare us for the return of darkness, and had the time of rotation been greater,
we should have needed rest before the return of the natural epoch designed for
it. As it is, the natural vicissitudes are nicely adapted to our wants ; and yet our
organization is in no way connected physically with the rotation of the earth,
by any relation of the nature of cause and effect, and to suppose such an
adaptation fortuitous, would be an outrage upon all principles of probability.
This mutual fitness is, then, another of the many proofs which offer themselves
that the earth as a dwelling, and man as a dweller, has been each expressly
designed for the other.
Many practical examples may be given of this correspondence between the
time of rotation of the earth upon its axis and the periodical functions of the
organized world. Thus, Linnaeus proposed the use of what he termed a flo-
ral clock, which was to consist of plants which opened and closed their blos-
soms at particular hours of the day. Thus, the day-lily opens at five in the
morning, the common dandelion at six, the hawkweed at seven, the ma-
rigold at nine, and so on ; the closing of the blossoms marking corresponding
hours in the afternoon. Nor was this to be regarded as a specific effect of light
upon the plants, for when the flowers were introduced into a dark chamber
they were found to open and close their blossoms at the same times.
The necessity of observing a correspondence between the intervals of activ-
ity and repose, the taking of food, &c., and the period of light and darkness,
was practically shown in the case of voyages made to the north pole, where
navigators attained those latitudes in which the sun never rises for several
weeks, in which cases it was found necessary to make the crews of the ships
adhere with the utmost punctuality to the habit of retiring at nine o'clock and
rising at a quarter before six. Under these circumstances they enjoyed a
state of salubrity very remarkable, notwithstanding the trying severity of cli-
mate to which they were exposed.
Seeing then, — that the expedient of making the globe of the earth turn upon
its axis in twenty-four hours is one productive of such multifarious benefits,
and so intimately related to the organized species of our globe, that were it to
turn otherwise than it does, in a greater or less time, an entire derangement of
the animal or vegetable economy would ensue, — it becomes an interesting ques-
tion to ascertain whether the other planets are provided with a similar expedi-
ent ; and if so, to what extent the application of such expedient corresponds
with the case of the earth. We accordingly find that all the planets without
exception have a motion of rotation on certain diameters as an axis while they
make their periodical revolutions round the sun, and that the diameter in which
they so rotate has been selected in such a manner as to secure to each of them
regular alternations of light and darkness in every part of their surfaces ; in
fact, they, like the earth, have days and nights. But are those days and nights
regulated by the same intervals as ours ? for that is an important question ;
such intervals being, as we have shown, a key to the organizations and func-
tions of the creatures upon them respectively.
We shall on another occasion show that the planets consist of two groups
which, although characterized by common qualities, are still distinct in several
particulars. The inner group consists of Mercury, Venus, Mars, and the Earth;
the outer group consists of Jupiter, Saturn, and Herschel. There are circum- )
THE PLURALITY OP WORLDS. 57
stances which prepare us to expect some discrepancies in the provisions made
in these two groups ; but everything leads us to anticipate a uniformity in
each of them respectively. We shall on another occasion show that the
three planets, Mercury, Venus, and Mars, which with our own form the
inner group, do all turn on their axes ; that they have all a diurnal motion
completed in the same time, or very nearly so, as that of the earth. Thus
these several planets not only have days and nights, but have days and nights
precisely similar to our own. They are regulated by the same average dura-
tion ; and He that gave them those alternations has seen it good to " divide the
light from the darkness" after the same fashion.
If, then, the duration of our days and nights be evidently regulated with a
view to the accommodation and well-being of the organized creatures to which
the earth has been appropriated, we are surely warranted by all analogy in con-
cluding that the adaptation of the same expedients in the planets, Mercury,
Venus, and Mars, have been directed to the same beneficent purposes, and that
the creatures upon them, as upon the earth, are so organized as to require the
same intervals of labor and rest, of activity and repose, of wakefulness and
sleep.
In the outer group the times of rotation are different, yet among them a sim-
ilar uniformity prevails. Jupiter and Saturn revolve on their axes in about ten
hours'. The telescope has not informed us of the time of rotation of Herschel;
but it is probably not different from the two cognate planets. It appears then
that the intervals of light and darkness in these remote bodies, instead of being
regulated by intervals of twelve hours, is determined by average intervals of
five hours. A corresponding difference of organization and functions may of
course be inferred to prevail upon them ; but still it will be observed that the
difference between them and the inner group, lies merely in the duration of
intervals of light and darkness ; those intervals being in the main preserved.
There is no planet, then, in which are not provided days and nights.
In considering the expedient by which days and nights are secured to the
planets, it is interesting to contemplate the particular position of the diameters
on which they have been made to turn. There are a great variety of different
diameters upon which the earth might have spun while it revolves round the
sun. It might, for example, have turned on a diameter at right angles to its
annual orbit. If it had been so we should have had equal days and nights
throughout the entire year, and at every part of the earth. It might again have
turned upon a diameter lying in the plane of its annual orbit. In such a case we
should not have had alternations of days and nights at all ; we should have had
the sun constantly visible for six months, and absent for other six months, mod-
ified in a very complex manner, however, by other vicissitudes ; in fact we should
have had changes of light and darkness utterly unfit for our wants. In the
first case we should have been deprived of seasons and of the means of main-
taining any convenient chronology. Thus, in either case, we should be strip-
ped of many of the benefits and utilities arising from the present arrangement.
Again, the earth might have turned upon an axis nearly perpendicular to the plane
of its annual orbit ; or in nearly that plane ; it might, in fact, be inclined in
any position, between those extremes. Had it stooped down nearly to the eclip-
tic, consequences would have ensued almost as fatal as those which any position
in the plane of the ecliptic would have inferred.' We find, however, in fact,
that a position has been given to this axis slightly inclined from the perpendicu-
lar. In virtue of this inclination the northern hemisphere leans toward the
sun during one half of the year, and the southern hemisphere during the other.
We enjoy the grateful succession of seasons ; it is thus that spring, summer,
autumn, and winter, follow each other with pleasant variety, marking in their
58
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
progress by obvious phenomena the course of time. Yet this inclination or
stooping of the axis is so regulated that the extremes of the seasons are con-
fined within such moderate limits as are necessary and conducive to the
physical well-being of the numerous tribes which people the earth.
It is true that this succession of seasons was not indispensably necessary to
the continuance of the races that inhabit the earth, for had the axis been per-
pendicular to the orbit so as to render days and nights perpetually and every-
where equal, the organized world would still have continued to exist. Thus
we see that the seasons are a provision received from the Divine hand, par-
taking more of the character of a luxury than of an absolute physical want.
We could have done without them, but not so well. We are therefore pre-
pared on examining the other planets to expect a greater difference to prevail
among them in this respect than in regard to the other provisions, such as
days and nights, without which the organized world could not have continued.
On examining the position of axes on which the several planets revolve, we
find them to be such as might be anticipated. Some of them correspond almost
minutely with that of the earth. Thus the seasons in Mars are regulated by
exactly the same extremes as those upon the earth ; the summer and winter
ranging between similar limits of heat and cold. The same is true of the
planet Saturn. In the case of Jupiter, on the other hand, we find the axis
nearly perpendicular to the orbit, so as to produce scarcely any perceptible
effect in the form of seasons. Great difficulties have been encountered in
ascertaining the position of the axes of the planets Mercury and Venus. There
appears reason for believing that they are inclined at very great angles from
the perpendicular, and consequently that the extremes of the seasons are pro-
portionally great ; in short, if the position of the axes of these planets be rightly
determined a very complicated succession of seasons would prevail upon their
surfaces ; however, until observations of a most decisive character shall be ob-
tained, it is vain to speculate upon these bodies.
The atmosphere which surrounds our globe is an appendage which does not
arise from any known physical law, yet it is one which has an obvious and
important relation to the animal and vegetable kingdoms. That respiratory
beings depend upon it for the maintenance of vitality is obvious. The me-
chanical and chemical apparatus of the breathing organs is expressly con-
structed to be the object of its operation. Its relation to vegetable life is no
less important. But besides these qualities, without which life would become
extinct on the surface of the globe, the atmosphere administers to our con-
venience and pleasures in other ways. It is the medium by which sound is
transmitted ; and as the apparatus of the lungs is adapted to operate chemi-
cally upon it, so as to impart to the blood the principle by which that fluid sus-
tains life, so the exquisite mechanism of the ear is constituted to receive the
effects of its pulsations and convey them to the sensorium to produce the per- >
ception of sound. Again, the mechanism of the organs of voice is adapted to
impress on the atmosphere those pulsations, and thereby to convey its intona-
tions to the correspondingly susceptible organization of the ear. Without '.he
atmosphere, therefore, even supposing we could live in its absence, however
perfect might be our organs of speech and hearing, we should possess them in
vain. Voice we might have, but no word could we utter ; listeners we might
be, but no sound could we hear ; endowed with the full powers of hearing and
speaking, we should nevertheless be deaf and dumb.
Another important manner in which the atmosphere administers to our con-
venience, is by diffusing in an agreeable manner the solar light, and mitigating ^
its intensity. In this respect, the atmosphere may be considered as perform- I
ing in regard to the sun what the imperfect transparency of a ground-glass )
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
shade performs for the glare of the lamp. In the absence of an atmosphere, the
light of the sun would only illuminate objects on which its direct rays would
fall ; we should have no other degrees of light but the glare of intense sun-
shine, or the most impenetrable darkness. Shade, there would be none ; the
apartment whose casement did not face the sun, at the mid-day would be as at
midnight. The presence of a mass of air extending from the surface of the
earth upward to a height of from thirty to forty miles, becomes strongly illumi-
nated by the sun. This air reflects the solar light on every object exposed to
it, and as it spreads over every part of the earth's surface, it conveys with it
the reflected, but greatly mitigated light of the sun.
When the evening sun withdraws its light, the atmosphere continuing to be
illuminated by its beams, supplies the gradual declining twilight which termi-
nates in the shade of night. Before it rises, in like manner, the atmosphere
is the herald of its coming, and prepares us for its splendor by the gray dawn
and increasing intensity of morning twilight. In the absence of an atmosphere,
the moment of sunset would be marked by an abrupt and instantaneous transi-
tion from the blaze of solar light to the most impenetrable darkness ; and for
the same reason, the morning would be characterized by an equally abrupt
change from absolute darkness to broad, unmitigated sunshine.
In the absence of an atmosphere we could have no clouds ; day would be
one unvaried wearisome glare of the sun. The bright azure sky, so grateful
to the sight, is nothing more than the natural color of the air reflected to the
eye. The air which fills a room is not perceived to be blue only because it is
not present in sufficient quantity to excite in the eye any perception of its
color ; just as a glass of sea-water seems translucent and colorless, while the
same water viewed through a considerable depth, appears with its proper hue
of green.
When we look up, therefore, through forty miles of atmosphere, we behold
it of its proper tint of blue. In the absence of the atmosphere the great vault
of the heavens would present one unvaried and eternal black, the stars dimly
twinkling here and there, the whole forming a most funereal contrast with the
bright orb which would be seen holding its solitary course through this eternal
expanse of darkness.
The atmosphere produces effects on the temperature of our habitation which
are not less important. It retains and diffuses warmth, whether proceeding
from the sun above, or from sources of internal heat within the globe itself.
What situation with respect to temperature we should be placed in by its ab-
sence, or even by a considerable diminution of its quantity or density, may be
easily inferred by considering the state of those parts of the earth which are
placed at such an altitude as to leave below them a large portion of the atmo-
sphere. The summits of lofty ridges, such as those of the Alps, the Andes,
and the Himalaya, are examples of this. No intensity of direct solar heat can
compensate for the absence of a sufficiently dense atmosphere, and even within
the tropics water can not exist in a liquid form at elevations above 14,000 feet.
The summits of the Andes are clothed in everlasting snow.
Had we, therefore, been unprovided with an atmosphere, or even had our
atmosphere been so rare and attenuated as it is at an elevation of three miles
(scarcely one tenth of its whole height), the waters of our oceans would have
been solid. Vegetation could never have existed, and in spite of the light
and genial warmth of the sun — in spite of the grateful changes of season — in
spite of the beautiful and simple provision by which spring succeeds winter,
and is followed by summer and autumn, the earth would have been a barren
and arid waste, enveloped in a shell of eternal ice, devoid of life, motion, form,
and beauty.
Seeing, then, how necessary to the existence of an animal and vegetable
world an atmosphere is — how indispensable its presence is to a society of crea-
tures whose means of intercommunication is sound — and yet bearing in mind at
the same time that this atmosphere is not essential to any of the great mechan-
ical functions of the earth in the economy of the solar system — considering
also that without its presence the part which that earth, as a whole, performs
in the society of the planets, would be the same as it now is — can we come to
any other conclusion than that this atmosphere was cast around the earth ex-
pressly with a view of the well-being of its occupants— to afford them a genial
warmth — to give them diffused and gentle light — to convey the varieties of
sound — to promote and facilitate social felicity, by supplying the means of
intercommunication by language — to preserve the seas liquid — and supplying
propitious winds to stimulate the intercourse of nations and knit together the
races of beings who occupy its most distant points by the kindly bonds of re-
ciprocal beneficence ? If then such, and such only, be admitted to be the pur-
poses and uses of our atmosphere, the question whether other planets, in situa-
tions resembling ours, are occupied by similar beings, must be materially influ-
enced by the result of an investigation as to whether or not these planets are
supplied with like atmospheres.
Telescopic observations have most clearly and satisfactorily answered this
question. The atmosphere around the planets are as palpable to sight as the
clouds which float on our own. Venus and Mercury are enveloped in thick
atmospheres: in the former the air is especially conspicuous, nay, \ve can
even see the morning and evening twilight in that distant world. The atmo-
sphere of Mars is likewise apparent. We see the clouds floating on it. Ju-
piter and Saturn afford not less unequivocal manifestations of atmospheres ;
and if we have not the same clear and satisfactory evidence in the case of H/r-
schfil, we have abundant reason for the want of it, in its enormous distance and
the hitherto deficiency of telescopic power.
The ascertained existence of clouds in the planets proves more than the
mere presence of atmospheres upon them. An atmosphere is necessary to sup-
port clouds, but must not be identified with them. Clouds are no more parts
of the atmosphere than the mud and sand which float in a turbid river are
parts of its waters. Water is converted into vapors by the agency of the sun
and wind. This vapor, when it escapes from the surface of the liquid, is gen-
erally lighter, bulk for bulk, than that part of the atmosphere contiguous to it.
It rises into more exalted regions, where, by the agency of cold, and by electri-
city, it is made to resume its liquid state, but in such minute particles that it
floats and forms those semi-opaque masses called clouds. Clouds are, then, in
fact, water existing in a very minute state of mechanical division, and affected
in peculiar ways by electricity.
When these particles are caused to coalesce into drops or spherules of wa-
ter— an efl'ect which may arise from temperature or electricity, or both combined
— their weight renders their further suspension impossible, and they descend to
the surface in the form of rain ; or if the cold be so great as to congeal the par-
ticles before they coalesce into globules, they descend in the form of snow ; or.
finally, if by the sudden evolution of heat caused by electrical influences their
solidification is effected into drops, they come down in the form of hail.
Thus wherever the existence of clouds is made manifest, there WATER must
exist; there EVAPORATION must go on; there ELECTRICITY, with its train of kin-
dred phenomena, must reign; Mere RAINS must fall; there HAIL and SNOW
must descend.
That healthful and refreshing winds agitate the atmospheres of the group of
worlds in the centre of which our suu presides, and of which he is the common I
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
band — that showers refresh their surfaces — that their climates and seasons are
modified by evaporation — that their continents are bounded by seas and oceans
— that intercourse is facilitated by winds which convert the surfaces of their
waters into highroads for nations — these and a thousand other consequences of
what has been here explained, all tending to one conclusion — that these vari-
ous globes are placed in the system for the same purpose as the earth — that
they are in fact, the dwellings of beings in all respects, even from their lowest
physical wants to their highest social advantages, like ourselves, crowd upon
the mind so thickly that we can scarcely give them expression in a clear and
intelligible order.
It may be asked whether by immediate observation we may not perceive
the geographical surfaces of the planets, so as to declare by direct survey
their divisions of land and water, mountain and valley, and other varieties of
surface.
Even the most superficial view of the subject will render apparent some
great difficulties which must obstruct such an inquiry with respect to most of
the planets. The very presence of those atmospheres and the clouds with which
they are loaded, offers a serious obstruction to any observations having for
their object to ascertain the geographical character of their surfaces. The
great distance of some of them is a formidable obstacle to such an inquiry ;
still, where some peculiar circumstances favor the observation, something has
been done in this investigation.
Venus and Mars, the two planets in the system which come nearest to the
path of the earth, are evidently the most eligible objects for such an inquiry,
and sufficient has been ascertained, especially with regard to the latter planet,
to draw very closely indeed the ties of analogy by which the planets are asso-
ciated with the earth.
Notwithstanding the dense atmosphere and thick clouds with which Venus
and Mercury are constantly enveloped, the existence of mountains of great eleva-
tion upon them has been discovered ; but it is upon the planet Mars that the
most surprising advances have been made in this department of telescopic in-
quiry. The Prussian astronomers, Beer and Madler, have devoted their labors
for many years back to the examination of Mars, and the result has put us m
possession of a map of the geography of that planet, almost as exact and well
defined as that which we possess of our own. In fact, the geographical outlines
of land and water have been made apparent upon it. Thus we see that in the
other planets on which the clouds clear away sufficiently to disclose to our view
their geographical nature, the surface is the same as our own ; and analogy
justifies the conclusion that, if we could get an equally clear view of the sur-
faces of the other planets, we sh6uld find upon them the same characteristics.
Connected with the observations of these Prussian astronomers, as well as
those of the younger Herschel on the planet Mars, there is a circumstance too
interesting to be passed without noticing it here. They have discovered, on
the polar regions of that planet, an extensive deposition of snow, which is
found, in a great degree, to melt away during the summer, and to be reproduced
during the winter.
In tracing the analogies whieh prove the suitableness of the planets for in-
habitable globes, and which connect them by ties of kindred with the earth,
one of the most important and interesting is dependant upon the quantity of
matter composing these planets, compared with their volumes or bulks. Let us
see how this affects the condition of the organized creatures that dwell upon
them.
All organized beings, whether animal or vegetable, are endowed with a cer-
tain limited amount of bodily strength. In the case of animals, which have
62 THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
powers of locomotion, this strength is regulated with reference to their weight,
and the extent and quantity of motion necessary for their well-being on the
surface of the globe. The structure of every animal is such, in the first place,
as to give it strength to support and move its own body ; but this is not enough ;
it must have a further amount of disposable force, to enable it to supply its own
wants by the pursuit of its prey ; by the collection of its food ; by the erection of
its dwelling ; and, in general, by its labor in the supply of its physical wants.
In the case of vegetables, the strength must be sufficient to support its weight,
and resist those external disturbances to which it is exposed — such as -the ac-
tion of winds and other natural effects. But what, let us ask, regulates this
necessary quantity of strength ? What is the chief resistance which it has to
overcome 1 We answer, mainly the weight of the creature itself. But again ;
what is this weight ? It is a force produced by what ? By the combined at-
tractions of the whole mass of matter composing the globe of the earth, exer-
cised upon the matter composing the creature itself; thus the weight of a man
is merely the amount of the attraction of the globe of the earth exercised upon
the matter composing the body of the man. The amount of this attraction,
therefore, depends upon the quantity of matter in the earth ; but not on that
alone : it is a universal law of nature, that the energy of the attraction exerted
by matter, is increased with the proximity of the attracted body to the centre
of the attracted mass. Now if the matter composing the globe of the earth
were condensed into half its present bulk, all bodies placed upon the surface,
being proportionally nearer the centre, would be attracted with greater energy;
and, on the other hand, if the matter of the earth were swelled into a larger
bulk, the distance of objects on the surface from the centre being proportion-
ally increased, the energy of the attraction would be diminished. In the one case
the weights of all bodies would be augmented, and in the other they would be
diminished. The weights, then, of bodies placed on the surface of the earth,
depend conjointly in the mass of matter composing the earth, and on its
density.
It is evident, then, that the adaptation which we see usually to prevail between
the strength of animals and plants and their weights, is, in reality, an exquisite
harmony which is maintained between the strength of these infinitely various
tribes of organized creatures, and the mass and density of the globe upon which
they are placed ; the slightest disturbance or change in this relation would
utterly derange the fitness of things, and would render the globe unfit for its
creatures, and its creatures unfit for the globe. The amount of attraction, or,
to use the more familiar term, the weight of the body on the surface of the
globe, is, then, an index, so to speak, to the organization of the creatures placed
upon the globe. If we would, then, inquire respecting the probable organiza-
tion of the dwellers upon the planets, one of the means of our inquiry would
be to ascertain what would be the weights of bodies upon their surfaces. Physi-
cal science enables us perfectly to accomplish this. The masses of matter
composing all the planets have been discovered with a great degree of precision.
Their magnitudes have also been measured. Now, to ascertain the weights of
bodies placed upon the surface of any of them, it is only necessary to consider
their masses and their magnitudes. The weight of a body placed upon any
planet is greater or less, caeteris parib us, than the weight of a body placed upon the
earth, just in proportion as the mass of matter in the planet is greater or less than
the mass of matter in the earth. If the distance from the surface to the centre of
the planet be double the corresponding distance in the case of the earth, then
the weight of bodies upon its surface would, on that account alone, be four
times less than in the case of the earth. But if, at the same time, the mass of
matter in the planet were sixteen times greater than the mass of matter in the
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
earth, then, the weight of bodies on the planet, on that account alone, would be
sixteen times greater. The weight, then, on the one score, would be sixteen
times greater, and on the other, four times less ; the result being that the actual
weight under such circumstances, would be four times greater than upon the
earth. Such are the principles by which may be calculated the weights of
bodies upon the surfaces of the different planets. It has been found that the
weights of bodies on the surfaces of Mercury, Venus, and Saturn, are nearly
the same as upon the earth ; that upon Mercury they are one half less, and on
Jupiter three times more. Thus it is apparent that there are no very extreme
deviations in weight, comparing the surface of one planet with another, and
hence we are led to infer the probability of an organization not very different
upon the several planets.
We have already explained by how easy means the great variety of light
and warmth conveyed to the different planets by the sun may be practically
equalized, by the adaptation of the organization of the eye, and the regulation
of the density of the atmosphere. Since, however, this difference in the physi-
cal condition of the planets excites usually much attention, it may be well here,
before closing this discourse, to enlarge somewhat further on this point.
The principles of optics prove that the sun's light will be less upon the
planet Mars than upon the earth, in the proportion of one to two. Jupiter will
receive about twenty-five times, and Saturn about one hundred times less
warmth than the earth does, while the diminution in the case of the most re-
mote planet, Herschel, will be nearly four hundred fold ; on the other hand,
Venus and Mercury, being nearer to the sun than the earth, the one will re-
ceive twice, and the other seven times, as much light and warmth as the earth
does. The apparent magnitude of the sun to these planets will be in the same
proportion. To Jupiter it will have an apparent diameter five times less than
to the earth. To Saturn the diameter will be ten times less, and to the planet
Herschel nearly twenty times less.
The apparent magnitude of the sun as we behold it is measured by an angle
of about thirty minutes ; consequently, to the inhabitants of the planet Herschel
it will appear under an angle less than two minutes, or about three times the
size of Jupiter when that planet appears the largest and brightest. We should,
however, form a very erroneous estimate of the actual light of the sun under
these circumstanes by these comparisons. It shines by its own light, whereas
the objects with which it is attempted to be compared shine with reflected
light. The full moon has the same apparent magnitude as the sun, the differ-
ence being that the one shines with direct, and the other with reflected light ;
how much is lost in splendor on this score may be judged, when we state that
the light of the full moon is three hundred thousand times less than that of the
sun ; we may also form some guess at the effect of the sun's light, even at the
most remote planet, Herschel, when it is stated that it gives a light equal nearly
to that of a thousand full moons.
If we could actually behold the da% of Saturn and Herschel on the one
lined, and of Mercury and Venus on the other, we should be surprised how
disproportionate to their numerical representation their apparent splendor would
be. The eye is a bad photometer. In a solar eclipse, in which half the sun's
disk is covered, we are scarcely sensible of diminished light ; and even when
the eclipse is nearly total — when only a thin crescent of the sun remains un-
covered— there is still the broad light of day, though very sensibly diminished
in splendor. A thick covering of clouds upon the firmament produces an im-
mense numerical diminution of the light of day, yet we suffer no inconveni-
ence in being exposed to all the varying degrees of splendor between that and
ihe unclouded radiance of a summer's sun.
64
THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS.
How various may be the circumstances of climate and temperature in places
receiving exactly the same influences from the sun's rays, will be apparent by
a reference to the tropical regions of our own globe. There under the same
influences of the same solar heat, we have in different elevations every variety
of climate and temperature. On the general surface, near the elevation of the
sea, we have the fierce climate of the torrid zone ; we have only to ascend
the mountains to a certain height, to behold the trees, fruits, and flowers, of the
temperate zone ; while at a still greater elevation, we encounter all the atmo-
spheric phenomena and vegetable productions of the frigid zone. In the low
valleys of the Andes are rich bananas and palms, while the elevated parts of
the range produce oaks, firs, and the tribes common to the north of Europe.
The oak flourishes on them at elevations varying from six to ten thousand
feet. At fifteen thousand feet of height vegetation disappears, save the lichens,
and then we enter the solitude of everlasting snow, in which every living thing
disappears.
How easy, then, and how natural, is it not, to conceive that atmospheric ar-
rangements like those which, under a tropical sun, produce at certain eleva-
tions the moderate temperature of our own climate — at others, less or greater,
the fierce heat of the line, or the rigor of the poles — may be the means of
modifying the varieties of effect which would be produced in different planets
by their different distances from the sun !
Such is, then, the brief view which we offer of that vast body of analogy
which leads the intelligent and reflecting mind, that loves to see the most ex-
alted attributes of Divine power manifested throughout all parts of creation, to
the conclusion that the planets are worlds, fulfilling in the economy of the uni-
verse the same functions, and are created by the same Divine hand, for the
same moral purposes, and with the same destinies, as the earth.
r-*-^^>*>
THE 8 U N .
The most Interesting Object in the Firmament. — Its Distance. — How Measured. — Its Magnitude. —
How Ascertained. — Its Bulk and Weight. — Its Density. — Form. — Time of Rotation. — Spots. —
Its Physical Constitution. — Nature of the Spots. — Luminous Coating. — Its Thickness. — Probable
Temperature of the Surface of the Sun. — Nature of its Luminous Matter.
>
"\
THE SUN. 67
THE SUN.
ALTHOUGH perhaps the moon is the object among the heavenly bodies
which presents the subject of most interesting inquiry to the world in general,
yet, to the thoughtful and contemplative mind, the Sun is undoubtedly one of
vastly superior interest. The sun — the fountain of light and life to a family
of circumvolving worlds — the inexhaustible store of genial warmth by which the
countless tribes of organized beings that people these globes are sustained —
the physical bond whose predominating attraction gives stability, uniformity,
and harmony, to the movements of the entire planetary system : to collect to-
gether in a brief compass the information which modern scientific research has
supplied relating to this body, cannot be otherwise than an interesting and
agreeable task.
DISTANCE OF THE SUN.
When we direct our inquiries to any object in the heavens, the first ques-
tions which present themselves naturally to us are, " What is its distance,
magnitude, motion, and position ?" When we say that the distances of the
bodies composing the solar system can be measured with the same degree
of relative accuracy with which we ascertain the distances of bodies on the
) surface of the earth, those who are unaccustomed to investigations of this
I kind usually receive the statement with a certain degree of doubt and incredu-
1 lity ; they cannot conceive how such spaces can be accurately measured, or
J indeed measured at all. Thus, when they are told that the sun is at a distance
i from the earth amounting to nearly 100,000,000 of miles, the mind instantly re-
j volts from the idea that such a space could be exactly ascertained and esti-
' mated. Yet, let us ask, why this difficulty? whence this incredulity ? Is it
{ because the distance thus measured is enormously great ? Greater transcend-
) ently than any distance we are accustumed to contemplate upon our own globe 1
j To this we reply that the magnitude of a distance or space does not constitute
} of itself any difficulty in its admeasurement. Nay, on the contrary, it is
THE SUN.
often the case that we are able to measure large distances with greater ac-
curacy than small ones ; this is frequently so in the surveys conducted on the
surface of our own globe. If, then, the greatness of the magnitudes does not
. constitute of itself any difficulty, to what are we to ascribe the doubt entertained
| by the popular mind in regard to such measurement ? It will, perhaps, be
replied that the object, whose distance we claim to have measured, is inacces-
sible to us ; that we cannot travel over the intermediate space, and therefore
< cannot be conceived to measure it. But again, let us ask whether this cir-
cumstance of being inaccessible constitutes any real difficulty in the measure-
ment of the distance of an object ? The military engineer, who directs his
projectiles against the buildings within a town which is besieged, can, as we
well know, level them so as to cause a shell to drop on any individual building
which may have been chosen. To do this, he must know the exact distance
of the building from the mortar. Yet the building is inaccessible to him ; the
walls of the town, the fortifications, and perhaps a river, intervene. Yet he
finds no difficulty in measuring the distance of this inaccessible building. To
accomplish this, he lays down a space upon the ground he occupies, called the
base line, from the extremities of which he takes the bearings or directions of
the building in question. From these bearings, and from the length of the
base line, he is enabled to calculate by the most simple principles of geometry
and arithmetic the distance of the building in question. Now imagine the
building in question to be the sun, and the base line to be the whole diameter
of the globe of the earth . in what respect would the problem be altered ? The
building within the town is inaccessible — so is the sun ; the base line of the
engineer is exactly known — so is the diameter of the earth ; the bearings of
the building from the ends of the base line are known — so are the bearings of
the sun's centre from the extremes of the earth's diameter. The problems are,
in fact, identical ; they differ in nothing except the accidental and unimportant
circumstance of the magnitudes of the lines and angles that enter the question.
In short, the measurement of distances of objects in the heavens is effected
upon principles in all respects similar to those which govern the measurement
of distances upon the earth ; nor are they attended with a greater difficulty, or
more extensive sources of error.
By such means, then, it has been ascertained that the distance of the
sun from the earth is about 100,000,000 of miles. The distance is more .ex-
actly 95,000,000 of miles ; but let me counsel those, who for the mere pur-
pose of general information, and without any strictly or scientific object, study
subjects of this nature, to be content to confine themselves generally to round
numbers — they are more easily remembered, and answer all purposes as well ;
for this reason I shall, in the course of these discourses, generally adopt, in
the expression of distances, magnitudes, motions, and times, the nearest round
numbers.
MAGNITUDE OF THE SUN.
Having explained the distance of the sun, let us now see how its magnitude
can be ascertained. There is one general principle by which the magnitudes
of all the heavenly bodies can be ascertained when their distance is known.
This is, in fact, accomplished by the device of comparing them with some ob-
ject of known magnitude anJ which at any known distance will have the same
apparent size. As this is important, considered as a general principle applied
to all objects in the heavens, it may not be uninteresting to develop it some-
what fully in its application to the present object, the sun.
THE SUN. 69
The common observation of every one who directs his view to the heavens,
will inform him of the fact that the sun and full moon appear to be of the same
size. The mere effect of ordinary visual observation is, perhaps, enough to
establish this ; but if more be desired, instruments expressly adapted to meas-
ure the apparent magnitudes of objects may be applied. We are also con-
firmed in the fact by the consideration of the well-known phenomena of solar
eclipses. A solar eclipse is produced by the interposition of the globe of the
moon between the eye and the globe of the sun. The eclipse is said to be
central when the centre of the moon is directly in line between the eye and
the centre of the sun. When this takes place we find that the globe of the
moon generally covers, pretty exactly that of the sun. Owing, however, to a
slight variation in the apparent size of these bodies, from a cause that we shall
explain on another occasion, the moon at one time a little more than covers the
sun and at another time a little less. In short, the average apparent magnitude
of these bodies are the same, the one exactly covering or concealing the other.
But we have already stated that the distance of the moon is only a quarter
of a million of miles. It appears, then, that the distance of the sun is four
hundred times greater than that of the moon ; yet these two globes appear to
the eye to be of the same magnitude. The sun, notwithstanding its being four
hundred times farther off, appears just as large as the moon. What, then, are
we to infer respecting its real magnitude ? If the sun were really equal in
magnitude to the moon, it would assuredly appear four hundred times less at four
hundred times a greater distance : but as at that greater distance it does not ap-
pear less or greater, but of the same magnitude, the irresistible conclusion
level to the apprehension of any understanding, is, that the sun must in reality
be four hundred times greater in its diameter than the moon. If it were less,
at four hundred times the moon's distance, it would appear less than that of the
moon ; if it were greater, at that distance it would appear greater. It follows,
then, that whatever be the magnitude of the diameter of the moon, the diame-
ter of the sun must assuredly be four hundred times greater. Now it has been
ascertained by absolute measurement that the diameter of the moon measures
about two thousand miles. If we multiply this by four hundred we shall ob-
tain eight hundred thousand miles, which is, therefore, the diameter of the sun.
These calculations have been made roughly and in round numbers ; more ac-
curately, the diameter of the sun measures 888,000 miles, but as we recom-
mend the adoption of round numbers, we shall call the sun's diameter
900,000 miles. Such is the stupendous mass placed in the centre of the sys-
tem which, by its attraction, coerces the movements of the planets.
Such magnitudes are so far beyond all the ordinary standards with which we
are familiar, that the imagination is confounded in its efforts to form to itself any
distinct conception of them. Let us see whether we may not find some illus-
tration which will aid the understanding in conceiving the dimensions of this
immense globe. We know that the earth is a globe whose diameter is eight
thousand miles, and that the moon holds its monthly course around it at the dis-
tance of about a quarter of a million of miles. Let us suppose the centre
of the earth at E., placed at the centre of the sun. Let the moon, M.,
hold its monthly course around it, the distance from M. to E. will then be
about two hundred and fifty thousand miles, but the surface of the sun. S., is
at a distance from its centre E. a little less than four hundred and fifty thou-
sand miles. Consequently it follows that the earth and its moons would thus
be not only continued within the globe of the sun, but the surface of the sun
would even then be two hundred thousand miles outside the monthly orbit oi
the moon. The sun would, in fact, contain the moon and earth within it, and
have a couple of hundred thousand miles to spare !
70 THE SUN.
VOLUME OF THE SUX.
But we have hitherto only spoken of the diameter of the sun ; let us now
consider its bulk. When we know the diameters of two globes we can always,
by an easy operation of arithmetic, estimate theirbulks. Thus, if one globe have
a diameter double another, the bulk of the former will be eight times that of
the latter. If the diameter be ten times greater, the bulk will be a thousand
fold greater, and so on. Now we know that the diameter of the sun is about
one hundred and twelve times greater than that of the earth, from which we
infer, by the same principles of arithmetic, that the bulk of the sun must be
very nearly one million four hundred thousand times the bulk of the earth. To
make a globe like the sun, it would then be necessary to roll one million
four hundred thousand globes like the earth into one ! It is found by consid-
ering the bulks of the different planets, that if all the planets and satellites in
the solar system were moulded into a single globe, that globe would still not
exceed the five hundredth part the globe of the sun : in other words, the bulk
of the sun is five hundred times greater than the aggregate bulk of all the rest
of the bodies of the system.
WEIGHT OF THE SCX.
The astronomer, however, is called upon to execute processes more difficult
and yet no less indispensable, than the mere measurement of distances and
magnitudes. If we desire to know the quantities of matter composing those
distant orbs, we must not merely measure their magnitudes and fathom their
distances, but we must wing our flight, in imagination, across those vast 'lis-
( tances which separate us from them and weigh their stupendous masses. If
( the popular student finds it difficult to believe and comprehend how we can
measure distances and magnitudes such as those of the heavenly bodies, how
much more will he be confounded when he is assured that we have at our dis-
posal a balance of the most unerring exactitude :'.n which we can place those
vast orbs and poise them ! The globe of the sun itself, transcendency greater
than the earth and all the planets put together, is weighed with as great relative
S precision, as that with which the chemist in his analysis, estimates the weights
of the constituents of the bodies which pass under his hands. As the general
THE SUN.
71
principles by which the weights of the bodies of the universe are ascertained
is in spirit the same for all, it may be worth while here to explain the method,
once for all, in its application to the sun.
When a body revolves in a circle, we know from common and familiar ex-
periments that it has a tendency to fly from the centre of 'the circle, which
tendency is greater the more rapidly the body revolves and the greater its dis-
tance from the centre. The boy who whirls a stone in a sling is conscious
of this physical truth. The stone, as it revolves, stretches the string with a
certain definite force ; this force is not in the gravity of the stone, for it would
be equally manifested if the stone revolved in a horizontal plane. It is that
tendency which we have just adverted to, and which is technically called cen-
trifugal force. If you increase the velocity with which the stone is whirled
round, you will find the string will be more and more tightly stretched, and
you may augment the velocity to such an extent as to break the string. If you
lengthen or shorten the string, preserving the same velocity of rotation, you will
find that the tendency to stretch the string will be proportionally increased or
diminished ; in short, a fixed rule or law, as it is called, will be easily discov-
ered by a series of simple experiments which wil1 enable us to predict how
much the string will be stretched, provided we know the distance of the
revolving weight from the centre of the circle and the time it takes to make
each revolution.
To apply this general principle, then, to the case before us, let it be consid-
ered that the moon in its monthly course revolves in a circle round the centre
of the earth. We know its distance and we know the time which it takes to
make each revolution, we are therefore in a condition to declare with what
force it would stretch a string, tying it to the centre of the earth. That the
moon exercises such a force cannot then be doubted. But on what, it will be
asked, is that force expended ? There is no string, rod, or any other material
or tangible connection between tho moon and the centre of the earth. And
yet the moon is held as firmly and steadily in its circular course round the
earvh, as if it were tied to the centre by a string. In the absence of the string
there must then be some physical agency which plays its part ; there must be
something to resist that tendency which the string, if there, would have resist-
ed. That something was discovered by Newton to be the attraction of the
earth's GRAVITATION exercised upon the moon and holding the moon in its cir-
cular orbit, in the same manner that it would be held by the string which has
been just described. As we know, by the simple mechanical law above ex-
plained, the force with which that string would be stretched by the moon in
this case, we are enabled by the same principle to say what is the amount
of attractive force which the earth exercises upon the moon to keep it in its
monthly orbit.
In this manner, in general, we are enabled to estimate the force of attraction
which a central mass exercises upon another body revolving in a circle round
it at a known distance, and in a known time.
While, on the one hand, we know the distance and time of the moon's revo-
lution round the earth, we also know the distance and time of the earth's revo-
lution round the sun. We are thus, allowing for the difference of the two
distances, in a condition to compare the actual amount of attraction which the
earth and the sun respectively exercise upon bodies revolving round them, and
we find, accordingly, that the attraction exercised by the sun upon any body
is greater than the attraction that would be exercised by the earth upon the
same body in a like position, in the proportion of three hundred and fifty thou-
sand to one. But as these attractions are, in fact, produced by the respective
masses of matter composing the sun and the earth, it follows that the weight
72 THE SUN.
of the sun, or what is the same, the mass of matter composing it, is three hun-
dred and fifty thousand times greater than the the mass of matter or weight
of the earth.
To make a globe as heavy as the sun, it would then be necessary to agglom-
merate into one three hundred and fifty thousand globes like the earth
DENSITY OF THE SUN.
Having ascertained the weights and bulks of the bodies of the universe, we
are in a condition to determine their densities, and thus to obtain some clue to a
knowledge of their constituent materials. We have seen that while the bulk
of the sun is about one million and four hundred thousand times greater than
that of the earth, its weight is greater in the much less proportion of three hun-
dred and fifty thousand to one. Let us see to what inference this leads in re-
gard to the nature of the matter that composes the sun. If the materials of the
sun were similar to those of the earth, its weight would necessarily be greater
than that of the earth in the same proportion as its bulk, and in that case, of
course, the weight of the sun would be one million and four hundred thousand
times that of the earth. But it is not nearly so great as this ; on the contrary,
it is much less. Consequently, it follows that the constituent materials of
the sun are lighter than those of the earth in the proportion of about four to
one. The density of the sun is, therefore, very nearly equal to that of water,
and, consequently, the weight of the solar orb is equal to the weight of a globe
of the same magnitude composed altogether of water.
FORM AND ROTATION OF THE SUN.
Although to minds unaccustomed to the rigor of scientific research, it
might appear sufficiently evident, without further demonstration, that the sun
is globular in its form, yet the more exact methods pursued in the investiga-
tion of physics demand that we should find more conclusive proof of the sphe-
ricity of the solar orb than the mere fact that the disk of the sun is always cir-
cular. It is barely possible, however improbable, that a flat circular disk of
matter, the face of which should always be presented to ills earth, might be
the form of the sun ; and indeed there are a great variety of other forms which,
by a particular arrangement of their motions, might present to the eye a circu-
lar appearance as well as a globe or sphere. To prove, then, that a body is
globular, something more is necessary than the mere fact that it always appears
circular.
When a telescope is directed to the sun, wo discover upon it certain marks
or spots, of which we shall speak more fully presently. We observe that
these marks, while they preserve the same relative position with respect to
each other, move regularly from one side of the sun to the other. They disap-
pear, and continue to be invisible for a certain time, come into view again on the
other side, and so once more pass over the sun's disk. This is an effect which
would evidently be produced by marks on the surface of a globe, the globe
itself revolving on an axis, and carrying these marks upon it. That this is, in
fact, the case, is abundantly proved by the fact that the periods of rotation for
all these marks are found to be exactly the same, viz., about twenty-five and a
half days. Such is, then, the time of rotation of the sun upon its axis, and that
it is a globe remains no longer doubtful, since the globe is the only body which,
while it revolves with a motion of rotation, could always present the circular
appearance to the eye. The axis on which the sun revolves is very nearly
perpendicular to the plane of the earth's orbit, and the mot' .n of rotation of the
THE SUN.
73
sun upon the axis is in tha same direction as the motion of the planets round
the sun, that is to say, from west to east.
SPOTS ON THE SUN.
One of the earliest fruits of the invention of the telescope was the discovery
of the spots upon the sun, and the examination of these has gradually led to a
knowledge of the physical constitution of the centre of our system.
When we submit a solar spot to telescopical examination, we discover its
appearance to be that of an intensely black irregularly-shaped patch, edged with
a penumbral fringe, the brightness of the general surface of the sun gradually
fading away into the blackness of the spot. When a spot is watched for a con-
siderable time, it is found to undergo a gradual change in its form and magni-
tude ; at first increasing gradually in size, until it attains some definite limit of
magnitude, when it ceases to increase, and soon begins, on the contrary, to
diminish ; and its diminution goes on gradually, until at length the bright sides
closing in upon the dark patch, it dwindles first to a mere point, and finally
disappears altogether. The period which elapses between the formation of
the spot, its gradual enlargement, subsequent diminution, and final disap-
pearance, is very various. Some spots appear and disappear very rapidly,
while others have lasted for weeks and even for months. The magnitudes
of the spots are in proportion to the magnitude of the sun itself. At the
distance of the sun, a spot, the magnitude of which would be barely visible,
must have a diameter of four hundred and sixty miles, and an area of one
hundred and sixty-six thousand square miles, which is, therefore, the smallest
space on the surface of the sun which would be distinctly seen. Among the
many spots which have been recorded, one was observed by 'Mayer, the
area of which was about fifteen hundred millions of miles square, or about
thirty times the surface of the earth.
Spots have been occasionally seen on all parts of the sun, but that region on
which they are found generally to prevail, is one which corresponds with the
tropical parts of the earth, that is, a space extending about thirty degrees on
either side of the solar equator.
74
THE SUN.
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF THE SUN.
What are the spots ? Two, and only two, suppositions have been proposed
to explain them. One supposes them to be scoriae, or dark scales of incombus-
tible matter floating on the general surface of the sun. The other supposes
them to be excavations in the luminous, matter which coats the sun, the dark
part of the spot being a part of the solid non-luminous nucleus of the sun. In
this latter supposition it is assumed that the physical constitution of the sun is
a solid non-luminous globe, covered with a coating of a certain thickness of lu-
minous matter. This latter supposition has been in a great measure demon-
strated by continued and accurate observations on the spots.
That the spots are excavations, and not mere black patches on the surface,
is proved by the following observations : If we select a spot which is at the
centre of the sun's disk, having some definite form, such as that of a circle, and
watch the appearance of the same spot when, by the motion of the sun upon
its axis it is carried toward the edge, we find, first, that the circle becomes an
oval. This, however, is what would be expected even if the spot were a
circular patch, inasmuch as a circle seen obliquely is foreshortened into an oval.
But we find that as the spot moves toward the side of the sun's limb, the black
patch gradually disappears, the penumbral fringe on the inside of the spot be-
comes invisible, while the penumbral fringe on the outside of the spot increases
in apparent breadth, so that when the spot approaches the edge of the sun, the
only part that is visible is the external penumbral fringe. Now this is ex-
actly what would oocur if the spot were an excavation. The penumbral fringe
is produced by the shelving of the sides of the excavation, sloping down to its
dark basis. As the spot is carried toward the edge of the sun, the height of
the inner side is interposed between the eye and the bottom of the excavation, so
as to conceal the latter from view. The surface of the inner shelving side also
takes the direction of the line of vision or very nearly, diminishes in apparent
breadth, and ceases to be visible, while the surface of the shelving side next
the edge of the sun becomes nearly perpendicular to the line of vision, and,
consequently, appears of its full breadth.
In short, all the variations of appearance which the spots undergo, as they
move across the sun's disk, changing their distances and positions with regard
to the sun's centre, are exactly those changes of appearance which would be
produced by an excavation, and not at all those which a dark patch on the
solar surface would undergo.
It may be considered then as proved, that the spots on the sun are excava-
tions ; and that the apparent blackness is produced by the fact that the part
constituting the dark portion of the spot is either a surface totally destitute of
light or by comparison so much less luminous than the general surface of the
sun as to appear black. This fact combined with the appearance of the penum-
bral edges of the spots have led to the supposition, which appears scarcely to
admit of doubt, that the solid, opaque nucleus, or globe of the sun, is invested \
with two atmospheres, that which is next the sun being like our own, non- >
luminous, and the superior one being that in which alone light and heat are
evolved ; at all events, whether these strata be in the gaseous state or not, the
existence of two such, one placed above the other, the superior one, being lu-
minous, seems to be exempt from doubt.
By observing the magnitude of the spots, and the rate at which they increase
and diminish, the velocity of their edges has been ascertained, and this velocity
has been found to be such as can scarcely be attributed to matter except in the
gaseous form.
We are not warranted in assuming that the black portion of the spots are
THE SUN.
75
really surfaces deprived of light, for the most intense artificial light which can
be produced, such, for example, as that of a piece of quick-lime exposed to the
action of the compound blow-pipe, when seen projected on the sun's disk,
appears as dark as the spots themselves ; an effect which must be ascribed
to the infinitely superior splendor of the sun's light. All that can be legiti-
mately inferred respecting the spots, then, is, not that they are destitute of
light, but that they are incomparably less brilliant than the general surface of
the sun.
The thickness of the luminous coating which covers the sun, was attempted
to be measured by Sir William Herschel, by means of observations made on
the spots, and the result of his inquiry was that its depth varied from two to
three thousand miles. The under and non-luminous stratum, by reflecting a
considerable portion of the rays which fall upon it from the luminous stratum
above, not only increases the light which the luminous stratum disperses through
space, but serves as a canopy to screen the solid body of the sun from the
overpowering effects of the light and heat of the superior stratum. Herschel
even supposed that the density of the lower stratum might be such as to main-
tain a temperature on the actual surface of the solid globe of the sun not higher
than that upon our earth. However this may be, there seems to be little doubt
that the actual temperature at the visible surface of the sun, that is to say,
upon its luminous coating, must be much more elevated than any artificial heat
we are able to produce.
According to Sir John Herschel, we have various indications of this.
First, from the law of the decrease of radiant heat and light, which being in
the inverse proportion of the squares of the distances, it follows that the heat
received on a given area exposed at the distance of the earth, and on an equal
area at the visible surface of the sun, must be in the proportion of the apparent
magnitude of the sun to the whole extent of the firmament, that is, in the pro-
portion of about one to three hundred thousand. A far less intensity of solar
radiation collected in the focus of a burning-glass, is sufficient to evaporate
gold or platinum.
Secondly, from the facility with which the sun's heat passes through glass,
a property possessed by artificial heat in a very small degree, and always in
the direct proportion of its intensity.
Thirdly, from the fact that the most vivid flames and intense artificial light
appear, as we have already stated, only as black spots when held between the
disk of the sun and the eye.
The idea that the heat of the sun arises from any process analogous to that
of common combustion, seems to be beset with insuperable difficulties. How
can we suppose the inexhaustible supply of the materials necessary to sup-
port so enormous and interminable a conflagration? There are two other
sources of heat which may be imagined, that are not subject to the same dif-
ficulty. Bodies submitted to friction evolve heat without any change in the
condition of their constituent parts. Also when a galvanic current is trans-
mitted through certain conducting substances, they become heated with more
) or less intensity and sometimes to such a degree as to emit light of the most
intense brilliancy, and yet in this process they suffer no other physical change
than that of temperature. It is therefore possible to suppose either of these
causes, but especially the latter, to be in constant operation on the sun, with
sufficient energy to educe the light and heat which it affords.
The actual physical character of the luminous matter which coats the sun
had not been ascertained until a recent period. According to the report of
the astronomical lectures of Arago, lately delivered in Paris, it would seem
that that philosopher has succeeded in solving this problem. As we have not
76 THE SUN.
had access to the original papers containing this investigation, we can only
speak of it from the imperfect information supplied by that report. It would
seem from it that Arago reasons in the following manner : There are two
states in which light is capable of existing ; the ordinary state, and the state
of polarization. It has been proved by Fourier, that all bodies rendered in-
candescent by heat, which are in the solid or liquid state, emit polarized
light ; while bodies which are gaseous, when rendered incandescent, invariably
emit light in its ordinary state. Thus the physical condition of a body may
be distinguished when it is incandescent, by examining the light which it
affords. There are polariscopic instruments by which we are enabled to dis-
tinguish these different states of light. On applying these tests to the direct
light of the sun, it has been found to be in the unpolarized, or ordinary condi-
tion. Hence it has been inferred by Arago, that the matter from which this
light proceeds must be in the gaseous state. It will doubtless be readily un-
derstood that gas, when incandescent, is that which is commonly called flame.
If Arago's reasoning, then, be rightly reported, and his observations correct,
it follows that the globe of the sun is a solid, opaque, non-luminous orb, in-
vested with an ocean of flame.
Certain observations made by Bouguer, led that astronomer to suppose that
the sun is surrounded by an atmosphere of considerable extent above the sur-
face of the luminous coating. The ground of this supposition was the impres-
sion that the splendor of the sun's light near the borders of the disk was less
than near the centre ; an effect which could not be produced if the luminous
coating had nothing above it imperfectly transparent. On the contrary, the
brightness toward the borders, owing to the obliquity of the direction of the
surface to the line of vision would be greater, inasmuch as a greater extent of
luminous, surface would be comprised within the same visual angle. The
more accurate observations, however, of Arago, made with delicate polariscopic
instruments disprove this by showing that the brightness is the same on all
parts of the sun's disk
ECLIPSES.
Lonar and Solar Eclipses. — Their Causes. — Shadow of the Earth. — And Moon. — Magnitude of
Eclipses. — When they can happen. — Central Solar Eclipse. — Great Solar Eclipse described by
Halley. — Ecliptic Limits.
ECLIPSES.
ECLIPSES.
Or all the occasional astrononomical phenomena, those which have attract-
ed most popular attention are LUNAR and SOLAR ECLIPSES. We shall on the
present occasion explain the principal circumstances attending l^hem.
When a luminous body, radiating light in all directions around it, throws
these rays upon an opaque body, that body prevents a portion of the rays from
penetrating into the space behind it. That portion of the space from which
the light is thus excluded by the interposition of the opaque body, is called in
astronomy the SHADOW of that body.
The shape, magnitude, and extent, of the shadow of an opaque body, will
depend partly on the shape and magnitude of the opaque body itself, and partly
on that of the body from which the light proceeds.
In the cases before us, the form of the bodies are globes. If the globe of
the SUN were equal in magnitude to the globe of the earth, the shadow of the
latter would be a cylinder, the base of which would be equal to a great circle
of the earth, and such shadow would be interminable, since its sides would be
parallel. This will be evident by an inspection of the annexed figure, 1 , in which
S. represents the sun, and E. the earth ; the rays <S. E. forming the sides of
the shadow, being parallel, could never meet, and consequently the shadow
would be infinite, since light can never penetrate into the space between them.
If, on the other hand, the sun were a globe less in magnitude than the earth,
then the shadow of the latter would have diverging sides as represented in the
annexed figure, 2, which would widen as they proceed from the earth, and would
be interminable ; but the sun having in reality a diameter about one hundred
and twelve times greater than that of the earth,, the rays which proceed
from the upper and lower limb of the sun, and which touch the earth at a and b,
fig. 3, will converge to certain point at/, behind the earth, and will form a conical
space, whose base will be at a b, and whose apex will be at /. From the space
enclosed by this cone the light of the sun is entirely excluded, and it is there-
fore properly the shadow of the earth. But there is also a certain space be-
hind the earth from which the sun's light is only partially excluded, and which
80
ECLIPSES.
Fisr. 1.
forms what is called the earth's penumbra. The ray m a, fig. 4, from the top of the
sun's disk. passes to the point/, while the ray n a from the lowest point of the
sun's disk passes to the point c. The space between a /and a c will be par-
tially illuminated by the sun. If a spectator were placed anywhere in that
space, he would see a portion of the upper limb of the sun, and would see more
of it the nearer he might be to c, and less of it the nearer he might be to/.
As he would see the sun, he would of course receive a portion of its light.
Thus that part of the space included between a / and a c, which is near a/,
receives light from a small portion of the upper limb of the sun, while that part
which is near c c receives light from nearly the whole of the sun ; and in short,
proceeding from a f to a c, the light received from the sun will be gradually
increased. •
Fig. 4.
In like manner, the ray m b proceeding from the upper limb of the sun and
continued to d, will include between it and the ray b f a. space which is only
partially illuminated, and will be subject to the same observations as we have
made respecting the space between a / and a c.
When any object which receives its light from the sun passes between fhs
lines a c and b d, it will be either wholly or partially deprived of the sun's light.
If it be outside the limits 6/and a/ it will be only partially obscured ; but if
it be within these limits, it will be altogether darkened.
The length of the line of being incomparably less than the distance of any
body in the universe from the earth except the moon, but being on the contrary
considerably greater than the distance of the moon, it follows that the only
body in the system which can be deprived of light by the earth's shadow is the
moon, and that whenever that object is in opposition to the sun, and at the same
time so near the ecliptic as to be included between the lines ac and b d, it will
be partially deprived of the sun's light ; but if it be so much nearer as to be in-
cluded between the lines a /and b / it will be wholly deprived of the sun's
light. Thus the causes of a partial or total eclipse of the moon are ex-
plained.
If the plane of the moon's orbit coincided with that of the ecliptic, the moon
would pass behind the centre of the earth in the direction of the line E f form-
ing the axis of the shadow, every revolution, and consequently there would be
a total lunar eclipse every month ; but as the moon's orbit is inclined at an
angle of five degrees to the plane of the ecliptic, the distance of the moon from
that plane is greater than the distance of lines of a c and b d from E f, except
when the moon is near to that point where its orbit crosses the ecliptic, which
is called the moon's node.'
No lunar eclipses happen, therefore, except when either of the moon's nodes
is nearly in opposition to the sun.
When a lunar eclipse does happen, the moon will first enter the penumbra
at a c, and will be very slightly obscured. As it approaches a/, it is more and
more deprived of the sun's light, until finally it enters the shadow afb, where
it is altogether obscured. At the end of the eclipse, as it must pass through
the penumbra, it will recover the sun's light by slow degrees.
The length of the line E f being about 800,000 miles, and the distance of
the moon from the earth being less than 250,000, the moon when it passes
through the shadow will be about 500,000 miles within the point / and will
consequently pass through the shadow at a part of considerable breadth.
In expressing the magnitude of the eclipse, whether of the sun or of the
moon, it is customary to suppose the diameters of these bodies divided into
twelve equal parts, called digits, and the magnitude of the eclipse is ex-
pressed by stating the proportion of the diameter of the disk which is obscured.
Thus when half the disk is obscured, we say that the eclipse measures six
digits, and so on.
From what has been stated, it is evident that an eclipse of the moon will
not be affected in its appearance by the position of the observer on the surface
of the earth. Wherever he may be, the eclipse will appear to him the same ;
but if it should happen that while the moon is passing through the shadow, the
person desirous to observe it is in a portion of the earth which at that time is
turned toward the sun, the eclipse will, of course, be invisible to him. In
short, it will only be visible from that hemisphere of the earth that is turned
from the sun at the time of its occurrence.
The moon, like the earth, receiving the sun's light, projects behind it a conical
shadow and a diverging penumbra : if this shadow or penumbra fall upon any
portion of the earth's surface, they will deprive such portion wholly or partially
of the sun's light, and there will be a solar eclipse of a corresponding species.
When the moon is between the sun and earth, the length of its shadow is about
equal to its distance from the earth, and consequently the point of the shadow
would just reach the surface of the earth ; but as the moon's distance is subject
to a slight variation, it sometimes happens that the length of the moon's shadow
is a' little more and sometimes a little less than its distance from the earth. If
. the length of the shadow be greater than its distance from the earth, then the
( shadow will cover a small portion of the earth's surface, to all places within
which there will be a total solar eclipse. The circumstances affecting a solar
eclipse are represented in the annexed figure, where S is the centre of the
sun's disk, W is its upper limb, and V its lower limb ; c d is the moon, and e
the point of its shadow ; d h and c g are the sides of its penumbra, and a b is
the portion of the earth on which the penumbra falls. An observer placed be-
tween e and g, will see the upper limb of the sun only, the lower limb being
6
82
ECLIPSES.
eclipsed. An observer, on the other hand, between d e and d h, would see the
lower limb only, the upper limb being eclipsed ; and the eclipse would be
greater to each of these observers the nearer their position would be to the
point e. To observers between h and Y or g and Y, there would be no eclipse,
for no part of the moon would be interposed between them and any part of the
sun.
If the vertex of the cone of the moon's shadow is farther from the moon than
the surface of the earth, then there will be a small portion of the earth's sur-
face at e within the shadow ; and to an observer within any portion of that
surface, the sun will be totally eclipsed ; but if the vertex of the shadow do
not reach the earth, then an observer at e will see a ring of the sun, not cov-
ered by the moon, surrounding the globe of the moon, and the phenomenon
will be what is called an annular eclipse.
These circumstances will render easily intelligible all the ordinary circum-
stances of solar eclipses. It will be readily understood, that while a lunar
eclipse is the same to all observers on the earth, a solar eclipse will vary in
its magnitude and character with the position of the observer ; the same solar
eclipse which at one part of the earth is total or annular, at other parts of the
earth is partial in various degrees, and at other parts again is not exhibited
at all.
A natural consequence of the diffusion of knowledge is, that while it lessens
the vague sense of wonder, with which singular phenomena in nature are be-
held, it increases the feeling of admiration at the harmonious laws, the devel-
opment of which renders effects apparently strange and unaccountable easily
intelligible. It will be easily imagined what a sense of astonishment, and
even terror, the sudden disappearance of an object like the sun or moon must
have produced in an age when the causes of eclipses were known only to the
learned. Such phenomena were regarded as precursors of divine vengeance.
History informs us that in ancient times armies have been destroyed by the
effects of the consternation spread among them by the sudden occurrence of an
eclipse of the sun. Commanders who happened to possess some scientific
knowledge, have taken advantage of it to work upon the credulity of those
around them by menacing them with prodigies the near approach of which
they were well aware of, illustrating thus, in a singular and perverted manner,
the maxim that knowledge is power. Happily, in the present day information
is too generally diffused to permit the bulk of mankind to be thus played upon.
Of all the various phenomena presented by eclipses, that which is transcend-
ECLIPSES. 83
antly the most remarkable and interesting is a central eclipse of the sun. If
it be total, the spectacle it offers is most imposing : the light of dav is grad-
ually withdrawn to such a degree that the brighter planets, such as Venus and
Jupiter, and the stars of the first magnitude, become visible to the naked eye.
We see, however, a faint light of the sun behind the disk of the moon. Some-
times, as has been stated, when the apparent magnitude of the moon is a little
less than that of the sun, the disk of the moon conceals the entire disk of the
sun, except only a thin luminous ring surrounding it. This is a phenomenon
of very rare occurrence, and only to be seen at particular places on the earth.
An instance of it occurred on the 7th of September, 1820. It commenced to
be visible at the north latitude of 80°, in Hudson's bay, near the eastern coast
of New North Wales. It was visible next in the direction of the northeast
of Greenland, at the mouth of the Wesel, at Bremen, in the gulf of Venice, and
in Arabia deserta, and ceased near the Persian gulf. While this eclipse was
produced in these different places, the observers who were on the same me-
ridians, but further south, saw only a partial eclipse, and others, still further
south, saw no eclipse at all. the contrary took place with observers on the same
meridians farther north, to all of whom the eclipse was annular.
It was during a phenomenon of this kind that Schroter imagined he saw the
solar light coming through an immense opening in the moon. Other observers,
however, who saw, or imagined they saw, luminous spots on the dark hemi-
sphere of the moon, in a solar eclipse, ascribed them to lunar volcanoes. As
to the existence of these luminous spots on the dark hemisphere of the moon,
rendered manifest in a total eclipse of the sun, we have the testimony of so
many astronomers, among whom, besides Schroter, may be mentioned Sir
William Herschel and Kater, that we can scarcely doubt their reality. The
causes which may produce them have only been explained in the two ways
above mentioned, namely, either by the supposed existence of active volcanoes,
on the moon, or perforations through the moon, through which the sun's light
passes.
The following description of a total eclipse of the sun. given by Halley, who
observed it, is quoted by Arago, and will be read with interest : —
" I send you, according to promise, my observations of the solar eclipse,
though I fear they will not be of much use to you. Not being furnished with
the necessary instruments for measuring time, I confined my views to examin-
ing the spectacle presented by nature under such extraordinary circumstances,
a spectacle which has hitherto been neglected or imperfectly studied. I chose
for my point of observation a place called Haradowhill, two miles from Ames-
bury, and east of the avenue of Stonehenge, of which it closes the vista. In
front is that celebrated edifice upon which I knew that the eclipse would be
directed. I had, moreover, the advantage of a very extensive prospect in
every direction, being on the loftiest hill in the neighborhood, and that nearest
to the centre of the shadow. To the west, beyond Stonehenge, is another
rather steep hill, rising like the summit of a cone above the horizon. This is
Clay hill, adjoining Westminster, (?) and situated near the central line of dark-
ness which was to set out from this point, so that I could be aware in time of
its approach. I had with me Abraham Soirges and Stephen Evans, both na-
tives of the country, and able men. The sky, though overcast, gave out some
straggling rays of the sun, that enabled me to see around us. My two com-
panions looked through the blackened glasses, while I made some .reconnais-
sance of the country. It was half-past five by my watch when they informed
me that the eclipse was begun. We watched its progress, therefore, with the
naked eye, as the clouds performed for us the service of colored glasses. At (
the moment when the sun was half obscured, a very evident circular rainl-ow )
1 **^s*^
ECLIPSES.
formed at its circumference, with perfect colors. As the darkness increased,
we saw the shepherds on all sides hastening to fold their flocks, for they ex-
pected a total eclipse of an hour and a quarter duration.
" When the sun assumed the appearance of the new moon, the sky was tol-
erably clear, but it was soon covered with deeper clouds. The rainbow then van-
ished, the steep hill I have named became very obscure, and on each side, that
is, north and south, the horizon exhibited a blue tint, like that which it possesses
in summer toward the close of day. Scarcely had we time to count ten, when
Salisbury spire, six miles to the south, was enveloped in darkness. The hill
disappeared entirely, and the deepest, night spread around us- We lost sight
of the sun, whose place till then we had been able to distinguish in the clouds,
but whose trace we could now no more discover than if it had never existed.
" By my watch, which I could scarcely discern by some light that reached
us from the north, it was thirty-five minutes past six. Shortly before, the sky
and the earth had assumed, literally speaking, a livid tint, for it was a mixture
of black and blue, only the latter predominated on the earth and at the horizon.
There was also much black diffused through the clouds, so that the whole pic-
ture presented an awful aspect, that seemed to announce the death of nature.
" We were now enveloped in a total and palpable darkness, if I may be al-
lowed the expression. It came on rapidly, but I watched so attentively, that
I could perceive its progress. It came upon us like rain, falling on our left
shoulders (we were looking to the west), or like a great black cloak thrown
over us, or like a curtain drawn from that side. The horses we held by the
bridle seemed deeply struck by it, and pressed to us with marks of extreme
surprise. As well as I could perceive, the countenances of my friends wore a
horrible aspect. It was not without an involuntary exclamation of wonder I
looked around me at this moment. I distinguished colors in the sun, but the
earth had lost all its blue, and was entirely black. A few rays shot through
the clotids for a moment, but immediately afterward the earth and the sky ap-
peared totally black. It was the most awful sight I had ever beheld in my
life.
" Northwest of the point whence the eclipse came on, it was impossible for
me to distinguish in the least degree the earth from the sky, for a breadth of
sixty degrees or more. We looked in vain for the town of Amesbury, situated
below us ; scarcely could we see the ground under our feet. I turned fre-
quently during the total darkness, and observed that, at a considerable distance
to the west, the horizon was perfect on both sides, that is, to the north and to
the south ; the earth was black, and the lower part of the sky clear ; the ob-
scurity, which extended to the horizon in those points, seemed like a canopy
over our heads, adorned with fringes of a lighter color, so that the upper edges
of all the hills, which I recognised perfectly by their outlines, formed a black
line. I saw perfectly that the interval between light and darkness, observable
in the earth, was between Mortinsol (?) and St. Anne ; but to the south it was
less distinctly marked.
" I do not mean to say that the line of shadow passed between these two
hills, which were twelve miles distant from us ; but as far as I could distin-
guish the horizon, there was none behind, and for this reason : My elevated
position enabled me to see the light of the sky behind the shadow ; still, that
yellowish green line of light I saw was broader toward the north than toward
the south, where it was of a tan color. At this period it was too black behind
us, that is, to the east, looking toward London, to enable me to see the hills
beyond Andover, for the anterior extremity of the shadow lay beyond that
place. The horizon was then divided irvto four parts, differing in extent, in
light, and in darkness. The broadest and least black was to the northwest, and
ECLIPSES.
the longest and brightest to the southwest. The only change I could perceive
during the whole time the phenomenon lasted, was that the horizon divided
into two parts — one clear, the other obscure. The northern hemisphere then
acquired more length, brightness, and breadth, and the two opposite parts coa-
lesced.
" Like the shadow in the beginning of the eclipse, the light approached from
the north, and fell on our right shoulders. I could not, indeed, distinguish on
that side either defined light or shadow upon the earth, which I watched atten-
tively ; but it was evident that the light returned but gradually, and with oscil-
lation : it receded a little, advanced rapidly, till at last, with the first brilliant
point that appeared in the sky, I saw plainly enough an edge of light that
grazed our sides for a considerable time, or brushed our elbows from west to
east. Having good reason, therefore, to suppose the eclipse ended for us, I I
looked at my watch, and found that the hand had traversed three minutes and
a half. The hill-tops then resumed their natural color, and I saw a horizon at
the point previously occupied by the centre of the shadow. My companions
cried out that, they again saw the steep hill toward which they had been look-
ing attentively. It still, indeed, remained black to the southeast, but I will not
say that the horizon was difficult to discover. Presently we heard the song of
the larks hailing the return of light, after the profound and universal silence in
which everything had been plunged. The earth and sky appeared then as
they do in the morning before sunrise. The latter was of a grayish tint, in-
clining to blue ; the former, as far as my eye could reach, was deep green or
russet.
" As soon as the sun appeared, the clouds grew denser, and for several min-
utes the light did not increase, just as happens at a cloudy sunrise. The in-
stant the eclipse became total, till the emersion of the sun, we saw Venus, but
no other stars. We perceived at this moment the spire of Salisbury cathedral.
The clouds not dispersing, we could not push our observations further : they
cleared up, however, considerably toward evening. I have hastened home to
write this letter. So deep an impression has this spectacle made upon my
mind, that I shall long be able to recount all the circumstances of it with as
much precision as now. After supper, I made a sketch of it from memory, on
the same paper on which I had previously drawn a view of the country.
" I will own to you I was, methinks, the only person '"1 Eiv ^nd who did
not regret the presence of clouds : they added much to the -oleua.iitv of the
spectacle — incomparably superior, in my opinion, to that of 17ic which 1 saw
perfectly from the top of the belfrey of Boston, in Lincolnshire, where the sky
was very clear. There, indeed, I saw the two sides of the shadow coming
from afar, and passing to a great distance behind us ; but this eclipse exhibited
great variety, and was more awfully imposing ; so that I cannot but congratu-
late myself on having had opportunities of seeing, under such different circum-
stances, these two rare accidents of nature."
The ECLIPTIC derives its name from the fact, that the shadow of the earth
always lying in it, no object can be eclipsed unless it be very near to it. If we
imagine a line drawn from the centre of the sun through the centre of the
earth, and continued beyond the earth, that line will be the axis of the earth's
shadow, and the diameter of the conical shadow must be everywhere less than
the diameter of the earth. The moon can not touch the shadow, if the distance
of its nearer limb from the ecliptic be greater than the diameter of the earth.
The ecliptic limits, is a term expressing the greatest distances of the moon from
its node at which it is possible that an eclipse, either lunar or solar, can hap-
pen. This distance for eclipses of the moon is twelve degrees, and for eclip-
ses of the sun seventeen degrees.
86
Whenever the moon is less than seventeen degrees from its node at a time
when it is in conjunction with the sun, there must be a solar eclipse ; and
whenever it is less than twelve degrees from its node at the time of full moon,
there must be a lunar eclipse. Within these limits the less the distance of
the moon from its node, the greater will be the number of digits eclipsed,
whether of the sun or moon.
THE AURORA BOREALIS
} Origin of the Name. — Produced by Electricity. — General Phenomena of Auroras. — Various Exam-
ples of this Meteor. — Riot's Excursion to the Shetland Isles to ohserve the Aurora. — Lottin's Ob-
( servalious in 13:38-'9. — Various Auroras seen by him. — Theory of Biot to explain these Meteors. —
Objections to it. — Hypothesis of Faraday. — Auroras seen on the Polar Voyage of Captain
Franklin.
J
THE AUEORA BOREALIS. 89
THE AURORA BOREALIS.
THE AURORA BOREALIS is a luminous phenomenon, which appears in the
heavens, and is seen in high latitudes in both hemispheres. The term AURO-
RA BOREALIS, or NORTHERN LIGHTS, has been applied to it because the oppor-
tunities of witnessing it are, from the geographical character of the globe, much
more frequent in the northern than in the southern hemisphere. The term
AURORA POLARIS would be a more proper designation.
This phenomenon consists of luminous rays of various colors, issuing from
every direction, but converging to the same point, which appear after sunset
generally toward the north, occasionally toward the west, and sometimes, but
rarely, toward the south. It frequently appears near the horizon, as a vague
and diffuse light, something like the faint streaks which harbinger the rising
sun and form the dawn. Hence the phenomenon has derived its name, the
NORTHERN MORNING. Sometimes, however, it is presented under the form of
a sombre cloud, from which luminous jets issue, which are often variously col-
ored, and illuminate the entire atmosphere.
A meteor so striking as the aurora could not fail at an early period to attract
the attention of scientific inquirers, and to give rise to various theories. Some
supposed it to be the refraction of the solar rays ; others ascribed it to the
effects of the magnetic fluid. Euler identified it with the tails of comets.
Mairan supposed it to proceed from the intermixture of the far-extending atmo-
sphere of the sun with that of the earth. When, however, the luminous effects
of artificial electricity were shown — when the electric light transmitted through
rarefied air was exhibited — and when the identity of lightning with electricity
was established, these various hypotheses were by common consent abandoned ;
and the explanation proposed by Eberhart, of Halle, and Paul Frisi, of Pisa,
which ascribed the phenomenon to electricity transmitted through regions in
which the atmosphere is in a highly rarefied state, was adopted. Any doubt
which might have hung round this explanation was dispelled when the rela-
tions between magnetism and electricity were demonstrated ; and although the (.
complete explanation of the details of the aurora has not been accomplished,
90
THE AURORA BOREALIS.
the electricity and magnetism of the earth and its atmosphere must now be
regarded as its source.
In his treatise on these meteors, Mairan describes their appearance and the
succession of changes »to which they are subject with great minuteness and
precision. The more conspicuous auroras commence to be formed soon after
the close of twilight. At first a dark mist or foggy cloud is perceived in the
north, and a little more brightness toward the west than in the other parts of the
heavens. The mist gradually takes the form of a circular segment, resting at
each corner on the horizon. The visible part of the arc soon becomes sur-
rounded with a pale light, which is followed by the formation of one or several
luminous arcs. Then come jets and rays of light variously colored, which
issue from the dark part of the segment, the continuity of which is broken by
bright emanations, which indicate a movement of the mass, which seems agi-
tated by internal shocks, during the formation of these luminous radiations,
which issue from it as flames do from a conflagration. When this species of
fire has ceased, and the aurora has become extended, a crown is formed at the
zenith, to which these rays converge. From this time the phenomenon dimin-
ishes in its intensity, exhibiting, nevertheless, from time to time — sometimes on
one side of the heavens and sometimes on another — jets of light, a crown and
colors more or less vivid. Finally the motion ceases, the light approaches
gradually to the horizon ; the cloud, quitting the other parts of the firmament,
settles in the north. The dark part of the segment becomes luminous, its
brightness being greatest near the horizon, and becoming more feeble as the
altitude augments, until it loses its light altogether.
The aurora is sometimes composed of two luminous segments, which are
concentric, and separated from each other by one dark space, and from the
earth by another. Sometimes, though rarely, there is only one dark segment,
which is symmetrically pierced round its border by openings, through which
light or fire is seen, as represented in fig. 1. A meteor of this kind was ob-
served by Mairan himself at Breuille-Pont, on the 19th of October, 1726.
This meteor was seen at the same time in distant parts of Europe, such as
Warsaw, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Rome, Naples, Lisbon, and Cadiz. The
least height which is compatible with its observed position in these places
would be about fifty leagues above the surface of the earth.
In the year 1817, M. Biot made a voyage to the Shetland isles, where he
had frequent and favorable opportunities of observing these phenomena ; and
the known habits of accuracy and skill in experimental investigation of that
philosopher must confer great value on the results of his observations. A re-
markable aurora was seen by him on the 27th of August, 1817.
Several thin jets of light were first seen to rise at the northeast to a small
height. Having played for some time, they were extinguished ; but, after an
hour and a half, they reappeared, with increased extent and brilliancy, in the
same part of the sky. They soon began to form above the horizon a regular
AURORA BOREALIS.
91
arc, like a rainbow, which was not complete at first, but by degrees increased
its amplitude, and, after some moments, was completed, by the sudden forma-
tion of the remainder, which rose in a moment, accompanied by a multitude of
jets of light, which issued from all points of the northern horizon. The vertex
of the bow then reached very nearly to the zenith. This bow was at first ilet t-
ing and undecided in its character, as if the matter of which it was composed
had not yet taken a stable arrangement ; but all this agitation quickly subsided,
and then it remained hanging in the heavens in all its beauty for more than an
hour, having a progressive motion barely sensible toward the southeast, where
it seemed to be carried by a light wind which was then felt from the north-
east. M. Biot had thus full time to contemplate it ; and he observed its posi-
tion with the instruments he had provided for astronomical purposes. He
found that it embraced an extent upon the horizon of 128° 42', and that its
centre was placed precisely in the direction of the magnetic meridian. The
whole extent of the firmament traversed by this grand arc, on the northwestern
side, was continually intersected, in every direction, by jets of light, the forms,
motions, colors, and continuance of which, strongly attracted his attention.
Each of these jets, when it first appeared, was a simple line of whitish light :
its magnitude and splendor were augmented rapidly, presenting sometimes sin-
gular variations of direction and curvature. When it attained its entire devel-
opment, it was contracted to a thin straight thread, the light of which was
extremely vivid and brilliant, and of a decided red tint. After this it grew
gradually fainter, and became extinct frequently at the same place precisely
where it commenced its appearance. This permanence of a great number of
jets, each in the same apparent place, while their brightness exhibited an infi-
nite variety of degrees, renders it probable, in the opinion of Biot, that their
light is not reflected, but direct, and that it is developed in the place where it
is seen. This inference is further confirmed by the circumstance that no trace
of polarization could be discovered in it. All these meteors, and the bow with-
in which their play was confined, must have occupied a region above the
clouds, since the latter occasionally intercepted their light.
One of the most recent and detailed descriptions of the aurora borealis is
due to M. Lottin, an officer of the French navy, and a member of the scientific
commission sent some years ago to the north seas.
During the winter of 1838-'9, M. Lottin observed the auroras at Bossekop,
in the bay of Alien, on the coast of West Fin mark, in the latitude of 70° N.
Between September, 1838, and April, 1839, being an interval of two hundred
and six days, he observed one hundred and forty-three auroras : they were
most frequent during the period which the sun remained below the horizon,
that is, from the 17th of November to the 25th of January. During this night
of seventy times twenty-four hours, there were sixty-four auroras visible, with-
out counting those which were rendered invisible by a clouded sky, but the
presence of which was indicated by the disturbance they produced on the mag-
netic needle.
Without entering into the details of the individual appearances of these me-
teors, we shall here briefly describe the appearances and the succession of
changes which they usually presented.
Between the hours of four and eight o'clock in the afternoon, a light sea-
fog, which almost constantly prevailed, extending to the altitude of from four
to six degrees, became colored on its upper border, or rather was fringed with
the light of the aurora, which was then behind it ; this border became gradu-
ally more regular, and took the form of an arc of a pale yellow color, the edges
of which were diffuse, an d the extremis s rested on the horizon. This bow
swelled upward more or less slowly, its vertex being constantly on the mag-
92
THE AURORA BOREALIS.
netic meridian, or very nearly so. It was not easy to determine this with pre-
cision, because of the motion of the bow, and the great magnitude of the circle,
of which it formed but a small segment : blackish streaks divided regularly the
luminous matter of the arc, and resolved it into a system of rays ; these rays
were alternately extended and contracted ; sometimes slowly, sometimes in-
stantaneously ; sometimes they would dart out, increasing and diminishing sud-
denly in splendor. The inferior parts, or the feet of the rays, presented always
the most vivid light, and formed an arc more or less regular. The length of
these rays was very various, but they all converged to that point of the heavens
indicated by the direction of the southern pole of the dipping needle, as indi-
cated in fi^r. 2. Sometimes they were prolonged to the point where their
Fig. 2.
directions intersected, and formed the summit of an enormous dome of light, as
represented in fig. 3.
Fig. 3.
The bow then would continue to ascend toward the zenith : it would suffer
an undulatory motion in its light — that is to say, that from one extremity to the
other the brightness of the rays would increase successively in intensity. This
luminous current would appear several times in quick succession, and it would
pass much more frequently from west to east than in the opposite direction.
Sometimes, but rarely, a retrograde motion would take place immediately af-
terward ; and as soon as this wave of light would run successively over all the
rays of the aurora from west to east, it would return, in the contrary direction,
to the point of its departure, producing such an effect that it was impossible to
say whether the rays themselves were actually affected by a motion of transla-
tion in a direction nearly horizontal, or if this more vivid light was transferred
from ray to ray, the system of rays themselves suffering no change of position.
The bow, thus presenting the appearance of an alternate motion in a direc-
tion nearly horizontal, had usually the appearance of the undulations or folds
of a riband or flag agitated by the wind, as represented in fig. 4. Sometimes
THE AURORA BOREALI3.
one and sometimes both of its extremities would desert the horizon, and then
its folds would become more numerous and marked, the bow would change its
character, and assume the form of a long sheet of rays returning into itself,
and consisting of several parts forming graceful curves, as represented in fig. 5.
Fig. 5.
The brightness of the rays would vary suddenly, sometimes surpassing in
splendor stars of the first magnitude ; these rays would rapidly dart out, and
curves would be formed and developed like the folds of a serpent ; then the
rays would effect various colors, the base would be red, the middle green, and
the remainder would preserve its clear yellow hue. Such was the arrange-
ment which the colors always preserved; they were of admirable transparency,
the base exhibiting blood-red, and the green of the middle being that of the
pale emerald ; the brightness would diminish, the colors disappear, and all be
extinguished, sometimes suddenly, and sometimes by slow degrees. After
this disappearance, fragments of the bow would be reproduced, would continue
their upward movement, and approach the zenith ; the rays, by the effect of
perspective, would be gradually shortened ; the thickness of the arc, which
presented then the appearance of a large zone of parallel rays (fig. 6), would
be estimated ; then the vertex of the bow would reach the magnetic zenith, or
the point to which the south pole of the dipping needle is directed. At that
moment the rays would be seen in the direction of their feet. If they were
colored, they would appear as a large red band, through which the green tints
of their superior parts could be distinguished ; and if the wave of light above
mentioned passed along them, their feet would form a long sinuous undulating
zone, while, throughout all these changes, the rays would never suffer any os-
cillation in the direction of their axis, and would constantly preserve their
mutual parallelisms.
While these appearances are manifested, new bows are formed, either com-
mencing in the same diffuse manner, or with vivid and ready-formed rays :
they succeed each other, passing through nearly the same phases, and arrange
themselves at certain distances from each other. As many as nine have been
THE AURORA BOREALIS.
Fig. 6.
counted, forming as many bows, having their ends supported on the earth, and,
in their arrangement, resembling the short curtains suspended one behind the
other over the scene of a theatre, and intended to represent the sky. Some-
times the intervals between these bows diminish, and two or more of them
close upon each other, forming one large zone, traversing the heavens, and dis-
appearing toward the south, becoming rapidly feeble after passing the zenith.
But sometimes, also, when this zone extends over the summit of the firmament
from east to west, the mass of rays which have already passed beyond the mag-
netic zenith appear suddenly to come from the south, and to form with those
from the north the real boreal corona, all the rays of which converge to the
zenith. This appearance of a crown, therefore, is doubtless the mere effect of
perspective ; and an observer, placed at the same instant at a certain distance
to the north or to the south, would perceive only an arc.
The total zone, measuring less in the direction north and south than in the
direction east and west, since it often leans upon the earth, the corona would
be expected to have an elliptical form ; but that does not always happen : it
has been seen circular, the unequal rays not extending to a greater distance
than from eight to twelve degrees from the zenith, while at other times they {
reach the horizon.
Let it. then, be imagined, that all these vivid rays of light issue forth with
splendor, subject to continual and sudden variations in their length and bright-
ness ; that these beautiful red and green tints color them at intervals ; that
waves of light undulate over them : that currents of light succeed each other ;
and, in fine, that the vast firmament presents one immense and magnificent
dome of light, reposing on the snow-covered base supplied by the ground —
which itself serves as a dazzling frame for a sea, calm and black as a pitchy
lake — and some idea, though an imperfect one, may be obtained of the splen-
did spectacle which presents itself to him whv> witnesses the aurora from the
bay of Alten.
The corona, when it is formed, only lasts for some minutes : it sometime*
forms suddenly, without any previous bow. There are rarely more than t\v >
on the same night ; and many of the auroras are attended with no crown at all.
The corona becomes gradually faint, the whole pheaomenon being to the
south of the zenith, forming bows gradually paler, and generally disappearing
before they reach the southern horizon. All this most commonly takes place in the
first half of the night, after which the aurora appears to have lost its intensity :
the pencils of rays, the bands and the fragments of bows, appear and disappear at
intervals ; then the rays become more and more diffused, and ultimately morge
into the vague and feeble light which is spread over the heavens grouped like j
THE AURORA BOREALIS.
95
little clouds, and designated by the name of auroral plates (plaques aurorales}.
Their milky light frequently undergoes striking changes in its brightness, like
motions of dilatation and contraction, which are propagated reciprocally be-
tween the centre and the circumference, like those which are observed in ma-
rine animals called Medusae. The phenomena become gradually more faint,
and generally disappear altogether on the appearance of twilight. Sometime?,
however, the aurora continues after the commencement of daybreak, when the
light is so strong that a printed book may be read. It then disappears, some-
times suddenly ; but it often happens that, as the daylight augments, the aurora
becomes gradually vague and undefined, takes a whitish color, and is ultimately
so mingled with the cirrho-stratus clouds that it is impossible to distinguish it
from them.
Among the various theories and hypotheses which have been proposed to
explain auroras, that which appears most entitled to attention has been suggested
by M. Biot.
The first question which naturally urges itself upon the consideration of the
scientific inquirer is, whether the phenomenon is to be regarded as meteoro-
logical or astronomical ; in other words, whether it takes place within the limits
of our atmosphere, and partakes in common with that fluid in the diurnal motion
of the earth, or is situate in a region beyond the limits of the atmosphere, being
seen through it, like the stars, planets, comets, and other celestial objects. The
relation which the form of aurora invariably bears to the direction of the mag-
netic meridian raises a prima facie presumption in favor of the phenomenon be-
ing atmospheric ; but all doubt on this question has been removed by the obser-
vations of M. Biot, from which it appears that the apparent place of the aurora
in relation to celestial objects is not fixed ; that its altitude and azimuth do no-t
undergo those hourly changes to which celestial objects are subject ; and that
they undergo no motion, in reference to the zenith or horizon, such as would be
produced by the diurnal rotation of the earth. It must then be taken as demon-
strated, that the aurora borealis is a phenomenon placed within the limits of
our atmosphere, and that it is connected with the atmosphere or with some mat-
ter suspended in it, partaking of the diurnal motion common to the atmosphere
and the globe.
The fact that the rays or columns of light are always paralled to the dipping
needle, and that the bows, coronse, and other visible forms which the phenom-
ena afiect, are always symmetrically placed with respect to the magnetic me-
ridian, demonstrate that the cause of the phenomena, whatever it may be, has
an intimate relation with that of terrestrial magnetism.
M. Biot conceives that the luminous columns composing the aurora have not
in reality the position or form which they appear to the eye to have ; but that
their apparent form is merely the result of perspective. He considers that the
phenomenon is produced by an infinite number of luminous columns, parallel
to the dipping needle and to each other, arranged side by side at nearly the
same height from the surface of the earth ; these systems of columns being
placed at unequal distances from the eye, and see" Mirier different v?3'?s of
obliquity, are projected into various figures, which are subject to variation
arising "from the varying splendor of their component rays.
It has been attempted, on various occasions, to determine the height of auroras
by the same method which has been applied with such accurate results to the
determination of the distances of the sun, moon, and other celestial objects.
This method consists in the comparison of two observations of the exact ap-
parent place in the heavens observed at the same moment in distant parts of the
earth. Many causes, however, conspire to render this method inapplicable to
auroras ; among which may be mentioned the difficulty of making the two ob-
96
THE AURORA BOREALIS.
serrations at the same instant of time, and the total impossibility of the two ob-
servers being certain of directing their observations to precisely the same point of
the aurora. To such causes must be ascribed the widely-varying estimates of
the height of auroras ; obtained in this manner — estimates which vary from
fifty to three hundred miles from the surface of the earth. Meanwhile, what-
ever be their height, it is evidently subject to continual variation, even in the
same aurora, as is rendered apparent by the sudden changes which the phe-
nomenon undergoes, and by the progressive motion of its arcs.
Great differences have existed among meteorologists respecting the sounds
which are said to proceed from auroras. The inhabitants of the northern re-
gions, where these appearances most prevail, are unanimous in declaring that
they are frequently accompanied by hissing and cracking noises in the air,
like those produced by artificial fireworks. Persons engaged in the whale-
fisheries make the same statements. M. Biot found the inhabitants of the
Shetland islands unanimous on the question ; and M. Lottin found the same
impression among the far-distant inhabitants of Siberia. On the other hand,
during the sojourn of M. Biot in the Shetland isles, he witnessed several great
auroras, but heard no sound. During M. Lottin's expedition, he witnessed
one hundred and forty-three auroras, in not one of which was he sensible of
any sound. The only strictly scientific observer who appears to have person-
ally experienced such sounds is Cavallo, who states that he has distinctly
heard them on several occasions, but limits his testimony to this general form,
assigning neither time nor place. Such discordancy of evidence can oaly be
reconciled by the supposition that such sounds are audible on rare occasions,
when the region in which the aurora is developed is within a very limited dis-
tance of the observer ; and if the existence of such sounds be thus admitted,
it must be also admitted that the height of the aurora is, at least in such cases,
infinitely less than is commonly estimated ; and if, in particular cases, its
height be so small, it is probably in all others proportionally under the highest
estimates which have been made of it.
From a comparison of all the observed effects, it may then be assumed as
nearly, if not conclusively, proved, that the aurora borealis is composed of real
clouds, proceeding generally from the north, and formed of extremely attenuated
and luminous matter floating in the atmosphere, which frequently arrange them-
selves in series of lines or columns parallel to the dipping needle. What tho
nature of the matter is composing such clouds must, in the present state of
science, rest upon mere conjecture. The following is the substance of the
theory of M. Biot on this subject already referred to : —
Among material substances, certain metals alone are susceptible of magnet-
ism. Since, then, the luminous matter composiag the aurora obeys the magnetic
influence of the earth, it is very probable thai the luminous clouds of which it
consists are composed of metallic particles reduced to an extremely minute and
subtile form. This being admitted, another consequence will immediately ensue.
Such metallic clouds, if the expression be allowed, will be conductors of elec-
tricity, more or less perfect, according to the degree of proximity of their con-
stituent particles. When such clouds arrange tliemselves in columnar forms,
and connect strata of the atmosphere at different elevations, if such strata be
unequally charged with electricity, the electrical equilibrium will be re-estab-
lished through the intervention of the metallic columns, and light and sound
will be evolved in proportion to the imperfect conductability of the metallic
clouds arising from the extremely rarefied state of the metallic vapor, or fine
dust, of which they are constituted. All the results of electrical experiment*
countenance these suppositions, when the phenomena are produced in tk«
more elevated regions, where the air is highly rarefied, little resistance being
97 ;
opposed to the motion of the electric fluid : light alone is evolved without son- I
sible sound, as is observed when electricity is transmitted through exhausted ;
tubes ; but when the aurora is developed in the lower strata of the atmosphere, ?
it would produce the hissing and cracking noise which appears to be heard on ;
some occasions. If the metallic cloud possess the conducting power in a hiah f
degree, the electric current may pass through it without the evolution of either /
light or sound : and thus the magnetic needle may be affected as it would be
by an aurora at a time when no aurora is visible. If any cause alters the con-
ductability of those columnar clouds suddenly or gradually, a sudden or gradual
change in the splendor of the aurora would ensue.
According as those clouds advance over more southern countries, the direc-
tion of their columns being constantly parallel to the dipping needle, they take
gradually a more horizontal position, and consequently the strata of atmosphere
at their extremities become gradually less distant, and consequently more
nearly in a state of electrical equilibrium ; hence it follows, that as the latitude
diminishes, the appearance of aurora becomes more and more rare, until, in the
lower latitudes, where the columns are nearly parallel to the horizon, such
phenomena are never observed.
This ingenious and beautiful theory still, however, requires, before its va-
lidity can be admitted by the rigid canons of modern physics, that the main
fact on which it rests should be proved : it is necessary that it should be
hown that such metallic clouds as are here supposed, and on the agency of
vhich the whole theory is based, should be accounted for. This demand is
accordingly answered by M. Biot.
The magnetic pole, or its vicinity, is evidently the point from which these
olumnar masses of meteoric light proceed. Therefore, the extremely minute
ays composing these columns must issue from the earth in that region. Now
t is well known that that part of the globe is, and always has been, character-
zed by the prevalence of frequent and violent volcanic eruptions, and several
•olcanoes have been, and still are, in activity round the place where the mag-
netic pole is situate. These eruptions are always accompanied by electric
>henomena. Thunder issues from the volcanic clouds ejected by the craters ;
and these clouds of volcanic dust, thus charged with electricity, are projected
o great heights, and carried to considerable distances through the air, carrying
vith them all the electricity taken from the crater.
These vast eruptions, issuing from depths so unfathomable that they seem al-
most to penetrate the globe, and issuing with such violence from the gulfs by
vhich they are projected into the atmosphere, must necessarily produce strong
•ertical currents of air, by which the volcanic dust will be carried to an eleva-
ion exceeding that of common clouds. Travellers who have visited Iceland
lave often seen suspended over it, during eruptions, a species of volcanic fog.
Such clouds are known to be of a sulphureous and metallic nature, painfully irri-
ating the eyes, mouth, and nostrils. Moreover, the existence of dry fogs, dif-
using a fetid and sulphureous odor, was ascertained in 1783, when all Europe
was enveloped in a fog of that description.
To this it may be added, that more recent observations have rendered it
lighly probable, if not certain, that metallic matter, and more particularly iron
n a pure and uncombined state, is frequently precipitated from the clouds in
hundcr-storms.
To the theory of M. Biot it is objected by M. Becquerel, that the existence
of metal in that uncombined form, in which alone it has the conducting power,
n volcanic eruptions, has not been proved ; that the matter ejected from vol-
canoes consists of vitrified substances, silicates, aluminates, and other sub-
stances, which are non-conductors, but that pure metal is never found.
T
THE AURORA BOREALIS
At the time when M. Biot promulgated his theory, it was necessary for him
to assign an adequate source whence the electricity was derived, to which
he ascribed the aurora ; and he accordingly supposed it to proceed from the
polar volcanoes. In the progress of electrical discovery, so many new sources
of electricity have, however, been since disclosed, that this part of his hypothe-
sis has become needless.
The following hypothesis has been suggested by Professor Faraday (Erp.
Research. 192) : —
" I hardly dare venture, even in the most hypothetical form, to ask whether
the aurora borealis and australis may not be the discharge of electricity , thus
urged toward the poles of the earth, whence it is endeavoring to return
by natural and appointed means above the earth to the equatorial regions. The
non-occurrence of it in very high latitudes is not at all against the supposition ;
and it is remarkable that Mr. Fox, who observed the deflections of the magnetic
needle at Falmouth, by the aurora borealis, gave that direction of it which per-
fectly agrees with the present view." The manner in which the electricity
above alluded to is urged toward the poles, belongs to another division of our
subject, " Magneto Electricity." If the above view is correct, may it not help
us in the difficult question of atmospheric electricity 1
The mode adopted to illustrate the electrical nature of the aurora, is to ex-
haust a tall glass tube by means of the air-pump, and then to pass a succession
of electric sparks down the interior of the tube, from the prime conductor of
the machine. The effects produced by a powerful machine are most brilliant ;
a close inspection shows that the whole tube is at times filled with a mass of
miniature flashes of lightning ; the color varies from the usual bright electrical
light to a vivid violet. The most exalted effects have been produced by means
of the hydro-electric machine. The tension of this machine is equal to a
spark of twelve or fourteen inches in the atmosphere, and therefore of power
to pass readily through four or five feet of partial vacuum, and its quantity is
equivalent to a charge of eighty feet of coated surface in ten seconds. A pe-
culiar effect attending this powerful discharge is, that sometimes the aurora
appears with a bright line of light proceeding from each end of the tube, and a
revolving spiral embracing the lower part.
The falling star is an experiment of the auroral character often introduced
in books on electricity. Cavallo says (vol. ii., p. 101), " When the receiver is
not exhausted, the discharge of a jar through some part of it will appear like a
small globule exceedingly bright." Whence we often hear it said, that the dis-
charge of a battery will produce a ball of light passing from one end to the
other of the exhausted receiver. If this really were the case, ij; would be a
most important experiment ; for if the ball were seen to pass from one end to
the other, it would follow that its direction had been actually seen ; and, if so,
the one-fluid theory would have been demonstrated. But very little reflection
will suffice to show the impossibility of such an appearance ; for, admitting
the actual existence of a ball, though we are more inclined to suppose that any
such thing would be like an oblong spheroid, the extreme velocity of electricity
would take it to the end of its course before the impression of its first appear-
ance on the retina had subsided ; just, indeed, as the rotating wheel, having
red radii, appears entirely red during the period of rapid rotation ; and so, in-
stead of seeing a ball, if such really were there, the eye would recognise a
continuous line of light. And this is actually the case. We have ourselves
repeated the experiment under very favorable circumstances, and in the pres-
ence of very competent witnesses, and one and all agreed in perceiving in
every case a distinct continuous line of light, but no appearance of a ball or
falling star.
THE AURORA BOREALIS. 99
An extraordinary experiment, illustrative of the theory of the aurora similar
to that suggested by Faraday, with t«e addition that " electricity is radiated in
a peculiar manner fr>»m magnetized bodies," was introduced by Mr. Nott at the
meeting of the British Association at Cork (1843). He rotated a steel globe,
and passed magnets from the equator to the poles, till the globe was perfectly
magnetized. He then insulated the globe, and placed an insulated ring around
its equatorial regions. He connected the ring with the prime conductor of the
resinous plate of his " rheo-electric machine," and one pole of the globe with the
conductor of the vitreous plate. It is necessary to mention, that the machine
alluded to consists of two parallel plates, one plass, the other resin, rotating on
the same axis, and provided with separate rubbers. The circuit, including the
rubbers and conductors, is completed in various ways ; the machine is described
as producing a current of electricity of tension analogous to that of the pile.
In the present experiment, when the machine is rotated, a truly beautiful and
luminous discharge takes place between the unconnected pole of the globe and
the ring. A dense atmosphere is more favorable to the success of the experi-
ment than a dry one. It had then the appearance of a ring of light, the upper
part of which was brilliant, and the under dark : above the ring, all around the
axis were foliated diverging flames, one behind the other.
In Captain Franklin's narrative, the auroras observed at Fort Enterprise, in
North America, are described by Lieutenant Wood as follows : —
They rise with their centres sometimes in the magnetic meridian, and
sometimes several degrees to the eastward or westward of it. The number
visible seldom exceeds five, and is seldom limited tu one. The altitude of the
lowest, when first seen, is never less than four degrees. As they advance
toward the zenith, their centres (or the parts most elevated) preserve a course
in the magnetic meridian, or near to it ; but the eastern and western extremi-
ties vary their respective distances, and the arches become irregularly broad
streams in the zenith, each dividing the sky into two unequal parts, but never
crossing one another until they separate into parts. Those parts which were
bright at the horizon, increase their brilliancy in the zenith, and discover the
beams of which they are composed, where the interior motion is rapid. This
interior motion is a sudden glow, not proceeding from any visible concentra-
tion of matter, but bursting out in several parts of the arch, as if an ignition of
combustible matter had taken place, and spreading itself rapidly toward each
extremity. In this motion the beams are formed. They have two motions :
one at right angles to their length, or sidewise, and the other a tremulous and
short vibration, in which they do not exactly preserve their parallelism to each
other. The wreaths, when in the zenith, present the appearance of corona
boreales. The second motion is alwajTs accompanied by colors ; for it must
be observed that beams are often formed without any exhibition of colors, and
I have not in that case perceived the vibratory motion.
The northern lights are sometimes tinged with the various prismatic colors,
among which orange and green, but more frequently the different shades of
red, predominate. Maupertius describes one seen by him in Lapland, by which
an expensive region of the heavens toward the south appeared tinged with so live-
ly a red, that the whole constellation of Orion seemed as if dyed in blood. Some
observers of this meteor have affirmed that they have heard a rustling or crack-
ling sound proceed from it ; doubts have, however, been entertained on this point,
from the circumstance that no such noises were heard by Scoresby, Richard-
son, Franklin, Parry, and Hood, who observed the polar lights with great care,
under the most favorable circumstances, in very high latitudes. But the testimo-
ny of other observers is so positive a kind, as to leave no reasonable doubt that ^
the phenomenon has, at least in particular instances, been accompanied by sounds. >
From the accounts which have been collected of the polar lights, it would
seem that the phenomenon was less frequent in former ages than it is now ; but
it must be kept in mind that meteoric observations have not always been so
much attended to as at present. Aristotle describes the phenomenon with suf-
ficient accuracy in his book of meteors. Allusions are also made to it by
Pliny, Cicero, and Seneca ; so that it must have been witnessed by the an-
cients, even in the climates of Greece and Italy. The descriptions of armies
fighting in the air, and similar observations, in the dark ages, doubtless owed
their origin to the striking and fantastic appearances of the northern lights.
It is remarkable, however, that no mention is made by any English writer of
an aurora borealis having been observed in England from the year 1621 to
1707. Celsius says expressly that the oldest inhabitants of Upsala considered
the phenomenon a great rarity before 1716. In the month of March in that
year, a very splendid one appeared in England, and by reason of its brilliancy
attracted universal attentipn. It has been described by Dr. Halley in the Philo-
sophical Transactions, No. 347. Since then the meteor has been much more
common. A complete account of all the appearances of auroras recorded previ-
ous to 1754 may be found in the work of Mairan, " Traite de I'Aurore Boraele."
The aurora is not confined to the northern hemisphere, similar appearances
being observed in high southern latitudes. An aurora was observed by Don
Antonio d'Ulloa at Cape Horn in 1745 ; one appeared at Cuzco, in 1744 ; and
another is described by Mr. Forster (who accompanied Captain Cook in his
last voyage round the world), which was seen by him in 1773, in latitude 58°
south, and resembled entirely those of the northern hemisphere, excepting that
the light exhibited no tints, but was of a clear white. Similar testimony is
given by subsequent navigators.
There is great difficulty in determining the exact height of the aurora bo-
realis above the earth, and accordingly the opinions given on this subject by
different observers are widely discordant. Mairan supposed the mean height
to be one hundred and seventy-five French leagues ; Bergman says four hun-
dred and sixty, and Euler several thousand miles. From the comparison of a
number of observations of an aurora that appeared in March, 1826, made at
different places in the north of England and south of Scotland, Dr. Dalton, in
a paper presented to the Royal Society, computed its height to be about one
hundred miles. But a calculation of this sort, in which it is of necessity sup-
posed that the meteor is seen in exactly the same place by the different ob-
servers, is subject to very great uncertainty. The observations of Dr. Rich-
ardson, Franklin, Hood, Parry, and others, seem to prove that the place of the
aurora is far within the limits of the atmosphere, and scarcely above the region
of the clouds ; in fact, as the diurnal rotation of the earth produces no change
in its apparent position, it must necessarily partake of that motion, and conse-
quently be regarded as an atmospherical phenomenon.
L
ELECTRICITY,
Electric Phenomena observed by the Ancients. — Thales. — Gilbert de Magnete. — Otto Guerieke's
Electric Machine. — Hawkesbee's Ex'iennis-i.-is. — Stephen Grey's Discoveries on Electrics and
Non-Electrics. — Wheeler and Grey'< dxocnments. — Dufaye discovers the Resinous and Vitre-
ous Electricities. — Invention of the Le /(«•»=' t-iiial. — Singular Effects of the first Electric Shocks. —
Experiments of Watson and Bevis. — Experiments on Conductors. — Franklin's Experiments and
Letters. — His Celebrated Theory of Positive and Negative Electricity. — His Experiments ou the
LeycJen Phial. — His Discovery of the Identity of Lightning and Electricity. — Reception of his
Suggestions by the Royal Society. — His Kite Experiment. — His Right to this Discovery denied
by Arago. — His Claim vindicated. — Invention of Conductors. — Death of Richmann. — Beccaria's
Observations. — Canton's Experiments. — Discovery of Induction. — Invention of the Condenser. —
Works of .AJpinus. — Theory of Symmer. — Experiments of Coulomb. — Balance of Torsion. —
Electricity of the Atmosphere. — Effects of Flame. — Experiments of Volta. — Lavoisier and La-
( place. — Analytical Work of Poissoa.
ELECTRICITY. JQ3
ELECTRICITY.
ALTHOUGH it has been reserved for modern times to bring to perfection the
methods of investigation pursued in physical researches, these great divisions
of human knowledge ha've nevertheless been always progressive. If the la-
bors of the ancients were obstructed, their advancement retarded, and their
productions disfigured by fantastical theories ; the facts they accumulated, the
phenomena they described, and the observations they recorded, have formed a
bequest of the highest value to the better disciplined inquirers and observers
of later days. Astronomy, the mechanics of solid and fluid bodies, and the
physics of the imponderable agents, light and heat, received severally more or
less attention at an early epoch of the progress of human knowledge ; and the
results of ancient researches in some of these branches of science, astronomy
for example, form an important element of the knowledge we now possess.
Electricity, however, is a remarkable exception to this state of progressive
movement. To that particular division of physics antiquity has contributed
absolutely nothing. The vast discoveries which have accumulated respecting
this extraordinary agent, by which its connexion with and influence upon the
whole material universe, its relations to the phenomena of organized bodies,
the part it plays in the functions of animal and vegetable vitality, its subservi-
ence to the uses of man as a mechanical power, its intimate connexion with
the chemical constitution of material substances, in fine, its application in al-
most every division of the sciences, and every department of the arts, have
been severally demonstrated, are exclusively and peculiarly due to the spirit
) of modern research, and in a great degree to the labors of the present age.
• The beginnings of science have often the appearance of chance. A felici-
tous accident throws a certain natural fact under the notice of an inquiring and )
philosophic mind. Attention is awakened and investigation provoked. Simi- <
lar phenomena under varied circumstances are eagerly sought for ; and if in (
( the natural course of events they do not present themselves, circumstances are <
| designedly arranged so as to bring about their production. The seeds of /
V
104
ELECTRICITY.
science are thus sown, and soon begin to germinate. Whether such primary
facts are really fortuitous, or ought not rather to be viewed as the prompting
of HIM, whose will is that intellectual progression shall be incessant, it is cer-
tain that they not only give the first impetus to science, but their occasional
and timely occurrence in its progress produces frequently greater effects on the
celerity of its advancement than the most exalted powers of the human mind,
unsupported by such aid, have ever accomplished. It may then be imagined
that if any such hints were offered by ordinary phenomena, an agent so all-
pervading as electricity could scarcely have eluded notice, or failed to command
attention, during a succession of ages which witnessed the growth and exten-
sion of so many other parts of natural knowledge. On the contrary, the class
of effects in which electricity originated was observed by and well known to
the early philosophers of Greece. THALES, six centuries before the Christian
era, was acquainted with the property of amber, from which electricity derives
its name ; * and Theophrastus and Pliny, as well as other writers, Greek and
Roman, mention the property of this and certain other substances, in virtue of
which, when submitted to friction, they acquire the power to attract straws,
and other light bodies, as a magnet attracts iron. In the spirit which charac-
terized the times, such effects were regarded with feelings of superstition. A
soul was ascribed to amber, and it was held sacred.
Nor were these the only phenomena which presented themselves to the an-
cients, and. afforded them a clue to the foundation of this part of physics.
Various other scattered facts are recorded, which prove that nature did not
conceal her secrets with more than usual coyness in this case. The luminous
appearance attending the friction of those substances which exhibited electrical
effects was observed. The Roman historians record the frequent appearance
of a flame at the points of the soldiers' javelins, at the summits of the masts of
ships, and sometimes even on the heads of the seamen. f The effects of the
torpedo and electrical fishes are referred to by Aristotle, Galen and Oppian ;
and at a period less remote, Eustathius, in his Commentary on the Iliad of
Homer, mentions the case of Walimer, a Gothic chief, the father of Theodo-
ric, who used to eject sparks from his body ; and further refers to a certain
ancient philosopher, who relates of himself that on one occasion, when chan-
ging his dress, sudden sparks were emitted from his person on drawing off his
clothes, and that flames occasionally issued from him, accompanied by a
crackling noise.l
Such phenomena attracted little attention, and provoked no scientific research.
Vacant wonder was the most exalted sentiment they raised ; and they accord-
ingly remained, while twenty centuries rolled away, barren and isolated facts
upon the surface of human knowledge. The vein whence these precious frag-
ments were detached, and which, as we have shown, cropped out sufficiently
often to challenge the notice of the miner, continued unexplored and undiscov-
ered ; and its splendid treasures were reserved to reward the toil and crown
the enterprise of our generation.
The work of classification and generalization was first commenced upon the
phenomena of electricity by Gilbert, an English physician, in a work entitled
De Magnete, published in the beginning of the seventeenth century. In this
treatise, the substances then known to be susceptible of electrical excitement
were enumerated, and several of the circumstances which affect the production
of electixca.. phenomena, such as the hygrometric state of the atmosphere,
were explained. Between that period and the earlier part of the last century
* "HA«Tj59i/, amber.
t Cajsar, de Bell. Afr. cap. vi. Liv. cap. xxxii. Plut Vita Lys. Plin. sec. Hist Mun. lib. ii.
I Eudtatk. in Iliad, E.
— >
ELECTRICITY. 105
the science was not advanced by any capital discoveries. In that interval,
however, Otto Guericke, celebrated as the inventor of the air-pump, contrived
the first electrical machine. This apparatus consisted of a globe of sulphur,
mounted upon a horizontal axis, from which it received a motion of rotation,
by means of a common handle or winch. The operator turned this handle
with one hand, while with the other he applied a cloth to the globe, the friction
of whiih produced thi, electrical state.
Aided by such apparatus, this philosopher discovered, that after a light sub-
stance has been attracted by and brought into contact with an electrified body,
it will not be again attracted, but, on the contrary, will be repelled by the same
body ; but that after it has been touched by the hand, its primitive condition is
restored, and it is again attracted. He also showed that a body becomes elec-
tric by being brought near to an electrified body without touching it ; but offer-
ed no explanation of this fact, which, as will be seen hereafter, indicated one
of the most important principles of electrical science.
Whether it was that all his attention was altogether engrossed by the re-
searches which he prosecuted with such splendid results in astronomy, the
higher mechanics, and optics, or that facts had not yet accumulated in sufficient
number and variety to impress him with a just notion of the importance of elec-
tricity as a general physical agent, Newton bestowed on it no attention. One
experiment only proceeding from him is recorded, in which he shows that when
one surface of a plate of glass is electrified, the attraction will be transmitted
through the glass, and will be manifested by its effect on any light substances
placed on the other side of it.
In the beginning of the eighteenth century, Hawkesbee made a series of
experiments on electrical light produced in rarefied air ; but as no consequences
were deduced from them affecting the progress of the science, we shall not
further iiotice them. In the construction of the apparatus for producing elec-
tricity, he substituted a glass sphere for the globe of sulphur proposed by Otto
Guericke. This was a considerable improvement ; and yet the experimental-
ists who followed abandoned it, and used no more convenient apparatus than
glass tubes, which were held in one hand, and rubbed with the other. To
this circumstance Dr. Priestley ascribes in a great degree, the slow progress
made by the immediate successors of Hawkesbee in electrical discoveries.
About the year 1730 commenced that splendid series of discoveries which
has proceeded with accelerated speed to the present day, and now forms the
body of electrical science. Mr. Stephen Grey, a pensioner of the Charter
House, impelled by a passionate enthusiasm, engaged in a course of experi-
mental researches, in which were developed some general principles, which
produced important effects on subsequent investigations.
The most considerable discovery of Mr. Grey was, that all material substan-
ces might be reduced, in reference to electrical phenomena, to two classes,
electrics and non-electrics ; the former, including all bodies then supposed to be
capable of electric excitation by friction ; and the other, those which were in-
capable of it. He also discovered that non-electrics were capable of acquiring
the electric state by contact with excited electrics. As the experiments
which led to these conclusions were of the highest interest, we shall hero
state them.
Desiring to make some experiments with an excited glass tube, he procured
one about three feet and a half long, and an inch and a quarter in diameter. To
keep the interior free from dust, he stopped it at the ends with corks. When
this tube was excited, he happened to present one of the corks to a feather,
and was surprised to observe that the feather was first attracted, and then re-
\ polled by the cork, in the way it was wont to be by the glass tube itself. He
ELECTRICITY.
concluded from this, that the electric virtue conferred on the tube by friction
passed spontaneously to the cork.
It then occurred to him to inquire whether this transmission of electricity
would be made to other substances besides cork. With this view he obtained
a deal rod about four inches in length, to one end of which he attached an ivory
ball, and inserted the other in the cork, by which the glass tube was stopped. On
exciting the tube, he found that the ivory ball attracted and repelled the feather
even more vigorously than the cork. He then tried longer rods of deal ; next
rods of brass and iron wire, with like results. He then attached to one end
of the tube a piece of common packthread, and suspended from the lower end
of this thread the ivory ball and various other bodies, all of which he found
capable of acquiring the electric state when the tube was excited. Experi-
ments of this kind were made from the balconies of his house and other ele-
vated stations.
With a true philosophic spirit, he now determined to inquire what circum-
stances attending the manner of experimenting produced any real effect upon
the results ; and, first, whether the position or direction of the rods, wires, or
cords, by which the electricity was transmitted from the excited tube, affected
the phenomena. For this purpose he extended a piece of packthread in a ho-
rizontal direction, supporting it at different points by other pieces of similar cord,
which were attached to nails driven into a wooden beam, and which were there-
fore in a vertical position. To one end of the horizontal cord he attached the
ivory ball, and to the other he tied the end of the glass tube. On exciting the
tube he found that no electricity was transmitted to the ball, a circumstance
which he rightly ascribed to its escape by the vertical cords, the nails support-
ing them and the wooden beam.
Soon after this, Grey was engaged in repeating his experiments at the house
of Mr. Wheeler, who was afterward associated with him in these investiga-
tions, when that gentleman suggested that threads of silk should be used to
support the horizontal line of cord instead of pieces of packthread. It does
not appear that this suggestion of Wheeler proceeded from any knowledge or
suspicion of the electric properties of silk ; and still less does it appear that
Grey was acquainted with them ; for, in assenting to the proposition of Wheeler,
he observed, that " silk might do better than packthread on account of its small-
ness, as less of the virtue would probably pass off by it than by the thickness
of the hempen line which had been previously used."
They accordingly extended a packthread through a distance of about eighty
feet in a horizontal direction, supporting it in that position by threads of silk.
To one end of this packthread they attached the ivory ball, and to the other
the glass tube. When the latter was excited, the ball immediately became
electric, as was manifested by its attraction upon metallic leaf held near it.
After this, they extended their experiments to lines of packthread still longer
when the silk threads used for its support were found to be too weak, and were
broken. Being under the erroneous impression that the escape of the elec-
tricity was prevented by the fineness of the silk, they now substituted for it
thin brass wire, which they expected, being still smaller than the silk, would
more effectually intercept the electricity ; and which, from its nature, would
have all the necessary strength. The experiment, however, completely failed.
No electricity was conveyed to the ivory ball, the whole having escaped by
the brass wire, notwithstanding its fineness. They now saw that the silk
threads intercepted the electricity, because they were silk, and not because
they were small.
Having thus accidentally discovered the insulating property of silk, they
proceeded to investigate its generalization, and found that the same property
ELECTRICITY.
107
was enjoyed by resin, hair, glass, and some other substances. In fact, it soon
becams apparent that this property belonged in a greater or less degree to all
those substances which were then known to be capable of being rendered
electrical by friction, and which were denominated electrics.
Grey now extended his inquiry to fluids and animal bodies. Having at that
time no other test of the electrical state of a body than its attraction for light
substances placed on a stand under it, the application of such a test to liquids
presented at first some difficulty. This was soon surmounted by the expe-
dient of blowing a soap-bubble from the bole of a tobacco-pipe. The bubble
was held suspended over some leaf metal, and on bringing the excited tube to
the small end of the pipe, the bubble immediately became electrical.
It was in the prosecution of these experiments that he discovered that, when
the electrified tube was brought near to any part of a non-electric body, without
touching it, the part most remote from the tube became electrified. He thus
fell upon the fact which afterward led to the principle of INDUCTION. The
science, however, was not yet ripe for that great discovery, and Grey accord-
ingly continued to apply the principle of inductive electricity, without the most
remote suspicion of the rich mine whose treasures lay beneath his feet.
In another series of experiments, Grey was also unfortunate in missing a
subsequent discovery on which he just touched. He found that certain electric
bodies were capable of becoming permanently excited without the previous
process of attrition. He took nineteen different substances, among which were
resin, gum-lac, shell-lac, sulphur, and pitch, and the remainder of which were
various compounds of these. The sulphur he melted in a glass vessel, the
others in a spherical iron ladle. When they became solid, and cooled, and
were removed from the moulds in which they were, in this manner, cast, he
found them to be electrified, and that, on preserving them from exposure to the
air, by wrapping them in paper or wool, this electrified state continued for an
indefinite time. In the case of sulphur, he found that not only the sulphur
was electrical, but also the glass from which it was removed. Had he carried
these inquiries further, and looked carefully into the circumstances of the at-
traction exhibited by the sulphur and the glass, he could not have failed in
discovering the existence of the two opposite electricities, and would probably
have also found the reason why the iron ladle did not exhibit electrical signs
as well as the glass. This, however, escaped him, and the honor of the dis-
covery was reserved for a contemporary philosopher.
In his investigations respecting the power of liquids to receive electricity
from excited glass, Grey exhibited, in a manner which at that period appeared
striking, the attraction of the glass tube for liquids. We shall, however, pass
over these and some other experiments of less importance, since they did not
conduce to the development of any general principle.
Contemporary with Grey was the celebrated Dufaye, who, though not im-
pelled by the same enthusiasm, nor exhibiting the same unwearied activity in
multiplying experiments, was endowed with mental powers of a much higher
order, and consequently was not slow to perceive some important consequences
flowing from the experiments of Grey, which had eluded the notice of that
philosopher. Dufaye, in the first place, extended the class of substances called
electrics — showing that all substances whatever, except the metals and bodies
in the soft or liquid state, were capable of being electrified by friction with any
sort of cloth, and that, to secure the result, it was only necessary to warm the
body previously. He also showed that the property of receiving electricity
by contact with an excited electric was much more general than was supposed
by Grey, and that most substances exhibited that property in a greater or less
degree, when supported by glass well warmed and dried. Dufaye also showed
ELECTRICITY.
that the conducting power of the packthread used in the experiments of Grey
depended on the moisture contained in it, and that the conducting power \vas
considerably increased by wetting it. By this expedient he transmitted elec-
tricity along a cord to the distance of about thirteen hundred feet.
It had been previously ascertained that when any substance charged with
electricity communicated the electric principle to another body near it, but not
in contact with it, the electricity passed from the one body to the other in the
form of a spark, accompanied by a snapping or cracking noise, like that of a
slight explosion. It had also been discovered by Grey and Wheeler that the
bodies of men and animals would become charged with electricity if placed in
the usual manner in contact with an excited glass tube, provided they were
suspended by silk cords, so as to prevent the escape of the electricity. Du-
faye, therefore, reasoned that a man being so suspended by silk cords, the
electricity imparted to his person could not escape ; and being charged by the
excited glass tube, sparks of fire ought to issue from his body, if any body ca-
pable of receiving the electricity were presented to it. To reduce this to the
immediate test of experiment, Dufaye suspended his own person by silk lines ;
and being electrified, the Abbe Noflet, who assisted him in these experiments,
presented his hand to his body, when immediately a spark of fire issued from
the person of the one philosopher and entered the body of the other. Although
such a result had been predicted as a consequence of the arrangement, the as-
tonishment was not the less great at its occurrence. Nollet states that he can
never forget the surprise of both Dufaye and himself when they witnessed the
first explosion from the body of the former.
The celebrity of Dufaye rests, however, not on his experiments, but on the
sagacity which led him to evolve natural laws of a high degree of generality
from his own experiments, and from those of the philosophers who preceded
him. He reproduced in a more definite form the principles of attraction and
subsequent repulsion, which had previously been announced by Otto Guericke.
" I discovered," says Dufaye, " a very simple principle, which accounts for a
great part of the irregularities, and, if I may use the term, the caprices, that
seem to accompany most of the experiments in electricity." This principle
was, first, that excited electrics attract all bodies in their natural state ; second,
that after a body is so attracted, and has touched the excited electric, then such
body is repelled by the excited electric ; third, that if, after being so repelled,
such body touches any other, it will be again attracted, and again repelled «by
the excited electric, and so on.
But a discovery of a much higher order was due to Dufaye. " Chance,"
says he, " threw in my way another principle more universal and remarkable
than the preceding one, and which casts a new light upon the subject of elec-
tricity. The principle is, that there are^vo distinct kinds of electricity, very
difierent from one another ; one of which I shall call vitreous, and the other
resinous electricity. The first is that of glass, rock-crystal, precious stones,
hair of animals, wool, and many other bodies. The second is that of amber,
copal, gum-lac, silk-thread, paper, and a vast number of other substances. The
characteristic of these two electricities is, that they repel themselves and at-
tract each other. Thus a body of the vitreous electricity repels all other
bodies possessed of the vitreous, and, on the contrary, attracts all those of the
resinous electricity. The resinous also repels the resinous, and attracts the
vitreous. From this principle one may easily deduce the explanation of a
great number of other phenomena, and it is probable that this truth will lead
us to the discovery of many other things."
This was a discovery of the highest order, and in its consequences fully
justified the anticipation that " it would lead to the discovery of many other
ELECTRICITY.
109
things." It is the basis of the only theory of electricity which has been found
sullicient to explain all the phenomena of the science, and with the subsequent
hypothesis of Symmer, and the laws of attraction developed by the researches
of Coulomb, it has brought the most subtle and incontrollable of all physical
agents under the subjection of the rigorous canons of mathematical calcula-
tion.
A new question now arose respecting any body which has been rendered
electrical, whether by immediate excitation, or by contact with another body
already excited. It was not enough to ascertain that it was electrified ; but it
was necessary to know with which of the two kinds of electricity it was in-
vested. The test of this proposed by Dufaye was the same which has ever
since his time been adhered to. He electrified a light substance freely sus-
pended with a known species of electricity ; say, for example, with resinous
electricity. If this substance was repelled on bringing it near another electri-
fied body, then the electricity of that body was known to be resinous ; but if,
on the contrary, it was attracted, then the electricity of the other body was
known to be vitreous.
Dr. Desaguliers, whose works in other parts of physical science are well
known, devoted some attention to electricity from the close of the labors of
Grey till the year 1742, but the researches of this philosopher contributed
nothing to the extension of the science. He methodized the elements which
had already accumulated, and improved in some important instances the no-
menclature. He denominated all substances in which electricity may be ex-
cited electrics per se, and defined in a distinct manner their characters. He
also first applied the term conductor to bodies which freely transmitted electrici-
ty, and showed that animal substances owed this property to the fluids which
they contain. He however failed to discover that moisture was the conducting
agent in many other bodies which at that time were used to propagate elec-
tricity to a distance.
The subject of electricity now began to attract the attention of the Germans,
and the first consequence was considerable improvement in the power and effi-
ciency of electrical apparatus. The globe of glass revolving on a horizontal
axis, which had originated with Hawkesbee, but had, ever since that time,
greatly to the detriment of the science, been abandoned in favor of the glass
tube, was now resumed by Professor Boze of Wittemburg, who added, for the
first time, the prime conductor to the machine. This conductor consisted of an
oblong cylinder, or tube, of iron or tin. It was at first supported by a man,
who was insulated by standing on cakes of rosin ; but it was subsequently sus-
pended by silken cords.
The method of exciting the globe or tube hitherto generally practised, and,
indeed, long afterward persevered in, was to rub them with the hand, taking
care that it was dry -and warm. Winkler, a professor in the university of
Leipsic, substituted the more convenient expedient of a cushion fixed in con-
tact with the globe, and gently pressed upon its surface by springs, or any
similar means. Gordon, a Scottish Benedictine monk, who was professor of
philosophy at Erfurt, abandoned the use of the globe, and substituted for it a
cylinder of glass, having its geometrical axis horizontal, and supported on
pivots so as to revolve on that axis. The cylinders he used were eight inches
long, and four inches in diameter. Thus the electrical machine assumed a
form very nearly identical with the cylindrical machines of the present day.
The effects produced by these improved and powerful apparatus are related
to have been extraordinary. Various inflammable substances, such as spirits,
heated oil, pitch, and wax, were fired. Appearances of electrical light issuing
from points, and the experiment since known as the electrical bells, were the
110 ELECTRICITY.
productions of this epoch. The spark drawn from the conductor by the finger
is described as being so intense as to burst the skin, draw blood, and produce
a wound. Other effects on the animal system are related, in which there is
probably some exaggeration.
The year 1746 forms a remarkable epoch in the history of electricity, being
signalized by the invention of the LEYDEN PHIAL. The merit of this discovery
is disputed, being claimed for Professor Muschenbroek, Cuneus, a native of
Leyden, and Kleist, a monk of that place. Probably all these individuals were
engaged in the proceedings in which the discovery originated. Dr. Priestley,
a contemporary writer, gives an account of this invention, apparently obtained
by personal inquiry, of which the following is the substance : —
Professor Muschenbroek and his associates having observed that electrified
bodies exposed to the atmosphere speedily lost their electric virtue, which was
supposed to be abstracted by the air itself, and by vapor and effluvia suspended
in it, imagined that if they could surround them with any insulating substance,
so as to exclude the contact of the atmosphere, they could communicate a more
intense electrical power, and could preserve that power for a longer time.
Water appeared one of the most convenient recipients for the electrical influ-
ence, and glass the most effectual and easy insulating envelop. It appeared,
therefore, very obvious, that water enclosed in a glass bottle must retain the
electricity given to it, and that by such means, a greater charge or accumula-
tion of electric force might be obtained than by any expedient before resorted
to.
In the first experiments made in conformity with these views, no remarkable
results were obtained. But it happened on one occasion that the operator held
the glass bottle in his right hand, while the water contained in it communi-
cated by a wire with the prime conductor of a powerful machine. When he
considered that it had received a sufficient charge, he applied his left hand to
the wire to disengage it from the conductor. He was instantly struck with the
convulsive shock with which electricians are now so familiar, and which has
been since, and is at present, so frequently suffered from motives of curiosity
or amusement. \
It is curious to observe how much effects on the organs of sense depend on I
the previous knowledge of them, which may or may not occupy the minds of \
those who sustain them. Those who now think so lightly of the shock, pro- i
duced even by a powerful Leyden phial, would be surprised at the letter in )
which Muschenbroek gave Reaumer an account of the effect produced upon him <
by the first experiment. He states, that " he felt himself struck in his arms,
shoulders, and breast, so that he lost his breath, and was two days before he re-
covered from the effects of the blow and the terror." He declared, that " he
would not take a second shock for the whole kingdom of France."
Nor was Muschenbroek singular in his extraordinary estimate of the effects
of the shock. M. Allamand, who made the experiment with a common beer
glass, stated that he lost the use of his breath for some moments, and then felt
so intense a pain along his right arm that he feared permanent injury from it.
Professor Winkler, of Leipsic, stated, that the first time he underwent the ex-
periment he suffered great convulsions through his body ; that it put his blood
into agitation ; that he feared an ardent fever, and was obliged to have recourse
to cooling medicines ! That he also felt a heaviness in his head, as if a stone
were laid upon it. Twice it gave him bleeding at the nose, to which he was
not subject. The lady of this professor, who appears to have been as little
wanting in the curiosity which is ascribed to her own, as in the courage as-
sumed for the other sex, took the shock twice, and was rendered so weak by
it that she could hardly walk. In a week, nevertheless, her curiosity again got
ELECTRICITY.
Ill
the better of her discretion, and she took a third shock, which immediately '
produced bleeding at the nose.
No sooner were these experiments made known, than the amazement of '
all classes of people of every age, sex, and rank, was excited at what was re- \
gardcd as " a prodigy of nature and philosophy." Philosophers everywhere '
( repeated the experiment, but none succeeded in explaining its effects. After !
I the first emotions of astonishment had abated, the circumstances which influ-
< enced the force of the shock were examined. Muschenbroek observed that
if the glass were wet on the outer surface the success of the experiment was
impaired ; and Dr. Watson proved that the force of the shock was increased
by the thinness of the glass of which the bottle containing the water was made.
He also observed, that the force of the charge did not depend on the power of
the electrical machine by which the phial was charged. Dr. Watson also
showed that the shock could be transmitted, undiminished, through the bodies
of several men touching each other.
By further repeating and varying the experiment, Watson found that the force
of the charge depended on the extent of the external surface of the glass in
contact with the hand of the operator ; and it occurred to Dr. Bevis that the
hand might be efficient merely as a conductor of electricity, and in that case
the object might be more effectually and conveniently attained by coating the
exterior of the phial with sheet-lead or tin-foil. This expedient was completely
successful ; and the phial, so far as related to its external surface, assumed its
present form.
Another important step in the improvement of the Leyden jar was also due
to the suggestion of Dr. Bevis. It appeared that the force of the charge in-
creased with the magnitude of the jar, but not in proportion to the quantity of
water it contained. It was conjectured that it might depend on the extent of
the surface of glass in contact with water ; and that as water was considered
to play the part merely of a conductor in the experiment, metal, which was a
better conductor, would be at least equally effectual. Three phials were there-
fore procured and filled to the usual height with shot instead of water. A me-
tallic communication was made between the shot contained in them respectively.
The result was a charge of greatly augmented force. This was, in fact, the
first electric battery.
Dr. Bevis now saw that the seat of the electric influence was the surface of
contact of the metal and the glass, and rightly inferred that the form of a bot-
tle or jar was not in any way connected with the principle of the experiment.
He therefore took a common pane of glass, and having coated the opposite
faces with tin-foil, extending on each surface within about an inch of the edge,
he was able to obtain as strong a charge as from a phial having the same ex-
tent of coated surface. Dr. Watson being informed of this, coated large jars
made of thin glass both on the inside and outside surface with silver leaf, ex-
tending nearly to the top of the jars, the effects of which fully corroborated
the anticipations of Dr. Bevis, and established the principle that the force of
the charge was in proportion to the quantity of coated surface.
The results of all these experiments led to the inference that, in the dis-
charge of the phial, the electricity passed through the circle of conducting
matter which was extended between the inside and the outside coating of the
jar. If that circle were anywhere interrupted by the presence of non-conduct-
ing matter, or electrics per se, as they were then called, no discharge took place.
Also, if any portion of the circle were formed of living animals, each
animal sustained the shock. To carry the demonstration of this further,
Dr. Watson placed, at several points in the circuit, spoons filled with spirits
\ between the extremities of iron bars, but not in contact with them. In such
112
ELECTRICITY.
rases the spirits in all the spoons were inflamed apparently at the instant of the
discharge.
Many of these properties were simultaneously discovered by Mr. Wilson,
who experimented in Dublin. He coated the external surface of the jar in the
first experiments by plunging it in water. He also made several experiments
with a view to affect by a shock one part of the human body without affecting
the otner parts. But the most remarkable discovery of this electrician was
the Inttrnl shock. He observed, that a person standing near the circuit through
which the shock is transmitted, would sustain a shock if he were only in con-
tact with any part of the circuit, or even placed very near it.
Those who are conversant with the science, arid aware of the important
principle of induction, will see, with much interest, how nearly many of the
philosophers engaged in these researches touched, from time to time, on that
property, and yet missed the honor of its discovery. Without it, the explica-
tion of the phenomenon of the charge and discharge of the Leyden phial was
impossible. The lateral shock just adverted to, and observed by Wilson, was
almost a glaring instance of it; but a still more striking manifestation of the
theory of the Leyden phial was afforded by an experiment of Mr. Canton, who
showed that if a charged phial be insulated, the internal and external coat inns
would give alternate sparks, and then, by continuing the process, the phial
might be gradually discharged. Canton just touched on the discovery of dis-
simulated electricity.
While these investigations were proceeding in England, the philosophers of
France were not wanting in that zeal and activity which they have always
manifested for the advancement of physical science. The Abbe Nollet, M. de
Monnier, and others, prosecuted similar experimental researches, and arrived
at the knowledge of several of the important circumstances developed in Eng-
land. Nollet showed that a phial containing rarefied air admitted of being
charged as readily as one which contained water, and stated that the water
in the Leyden experiment served no purpose except to conduct the electricity
to the glass.
From this time to the period at which Dr. Franklin commenced his researches,
no important progress was made in the science, although at no former period
were experiments on so grand a scale projected and executed ; nor was public
attention ever before so powerfully attracted to any scientific subject. Nume-
rous and extensive experiments were made, both in England and France, to
determine the distance through which the electric shock could be transmitted,
the nature of the substances through which it could be propagated, and the
rate at which it moved. At Paris, M. Nollet transmitted it through a chain of
180 soldiers ; and at the convent of the Carthusians he formed a chain meas-
uring 5,100 feet, by means of iron wires extending between every two persons,
and the whole company gave a sudden spring, and sustained the shock at the
same instant.
But it was in England that the experiments on this subject were made on
the most magnificent scale. Mr. Martin Folkes, then president of the Royal
Society, Lord Charles Cavendish, Dr. Bevis, and several other fellows of the
Society formed a committee to witness these experiments, the chief direction
and management of them being undertaken by Dr. Watson. A circuit was
first formed by a wire carried from one side of the Thames to the other over
Westminster bridge. One extremity of this wire communicated with the in-
terior of a charged jar ; the ether was held by a person on the opposite bank
the river. This person held in his other hand an iron rod, which he dipped
into the river. On the other side, near the jar, stood another person, holding
in one hand a wire communicating with the exterior coating of the jar, and in
ELECTRICITY. 113
the oilier hand an iron rod. This rod he dipped into the river, when instantly
the shock was received by both persons, the electric fluid having passed over
the bridge, through the body of the person on the other side, through the wa-
tei across the river, through the rod held by the other person, and through his
body to the exterior coating of the jar. Familiar as such a fact may now ap-
pear, it is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the amazement, bordering
on incredulity, with which it was at that time witnessed.
The next experiment was made at Stoke Newington, near London, where a
circuit of about two miles in length was formed, consisting, as in the former
case, partly of water and partly of wire. In one case there were about 2,800
feet of wire, and 8,000 feet of water. The result was the same as in the case
of the experiment at Westminster bridge. In this case, on repeating the ex-
periment, the rods, instead of being dipped in the water, were merely fixed in
the soil at about twenty feet from the water's edge, when it was found that the
shock was equally transmitted. This created a doubt whether, in the former
case, the shock might not have been conveyed through the ground between the
two rods, instead of passing through the water, and subsequent experiments
proved that such was the case.
The same experiments were repeated at Highbury, and finally at Shooter's
Hill, in August, 1747. At the latter place the wire from the inside of the jar
was 6,732 feet, and that which touched the outside coating was 3,868 feet long.
The observers placed at the extremity of these wires, were two miles distant
from each other. The circuit, therefore, consisted of two miles of wire, and
two miles of soil or ground, the latter being the space between the two observ-
ers. The result of the experiment proved that no observable interval elapsed
between the moments at which each observer sustained the shock. In this
experiment the wires were insulated by being supported on rods of baked
wood.
We shall here pass over a variety of experiments made in England, France,
and Germany, on the effects of electricity on organized bodies, and on some
proposed medical applications of that agent ; such researches not having led
to any general principles affecting the real advancement of the science.
Passing from the analysis of the confused experimental labors of his imme-
diate predecessors, labors which contributed so little to the development of the
nature and laws of electrical phenomena, to the researches of Franklin, is like
the transition from the mists and obscurity of morning twilight to the unclouded
splendor of the noontide sun. It was in the summer of the year 1747, that a
fortuitous circumstance, happily for the progress of knowledge, first drew the
attention of this truly great and good man, and (as he afterward proved) acute
philosopher, to the subject of electricity. Mr. Peter Collinson, a fellow of the
Royal Society of London, and a gentleman who took much interest in scien-
tific affairs, made a communication to the Literary Society of Philadelphia, ex-
plaining what had been recently done in England in electrical experiments, and
with his letter he sent a present of one of the glass tubes then commonly used
to excite electricity, with directions for its use. Previous to this time, Frank-
lin does not appear to have ever given his attention to physical science. Never-
theless, he now commenced repeating the European experiments with all the
ardor of an enthusiast, and extending, varying, and adapting them to the de-
velopment of great general laws, with all the skill and sagacity of a practised
experimental philosopher. Within the brief period of four months after the
arrival of the tube, he commenced a series of letters to Mr. Collinson, in which
are related a body of discoveries, which for the high generality of the laws
they unfolded, the surpassing beauty and clearness of the experimental demon-
strations on which they were based, and their intimate connexion with the
114 ELECTRICITY.
uses of ife, are well worthy to be put in juxtaposition with the discoveries of
Newton respecting the analysis and properties of light. How different, how-
ever, was the position of these two great discoverers and benefactors of the
human race ! One brought to bear on the subject of his inquiry a mind early
disciplined in scientific investigation, a memory stored with profound mathe-
( matical erudition, faculties rendered more acute and strong by the severe studies '
' exacted from all aspirants to academical honor and office in the universities of
the old countries, zeal awakened, emulation stimulated, and enthusiasm kindled
by associates, among whom were included all that was most distinguished in
the physical sciences ; the other, first a tallow-chandler's apprentice, and next
a poor printer's boy, unschooled, undisciplined, self-informed, having nothing to
aid him but the inborn energy of his mind, separated by an ocean three thou-
sand miles wide from the countries which alone were the seats of the sciences,
and where alone those aids and encouragements derivable from the society of
others engaged in like inquiries could be obtained. Such was the individual
whose researches we must now briefly notice. The series of letters in which
he embodied the details of his experiments, and developed the laws which re-
sulted from them, were continued from 1747 to 1754, and were subsequently
collected and published.
" Nothing," says Priestley, " was ever written upon the subject of electricity
which was more generally read and admired in all parts of Europe than these
letters. There is hardly any European language into which they have not
been translated ; and, as if this were not sufficient to make them properly
known, a translation of them has lately been made into Latin. It is not easy
to say whether we are most pleased with the simplicity and perspicuity with
which these letters are written, the modesty Avith which the author proposes
every hypothesis of his own, or the noble frankness with which he relates his
mistakes when they were corrected by subsequent experiments."*
In the analysis of Franklin's discoveries, it is necessary to distinguish care-
fully fact from hypothesis, and to separate the great natural laws which he
brought to light, the truth and reality of which can never be shaken, based, as
they are, on innumerable observed phenomena, from the theory by which these
phenomena and their laws are attempted to be explained by him ; which latter,
though marked by great sagacity and ingenuity, and adequate to the explica-
tion of most of the ordinary effects of electricity, has been found insufficient to
represent the results of subsequent researches, and has been generally super-
seded by another theory, which will be noticed hereafter.
The first step made by this philosopher in the brilliant series of discoveries
by which he rendered his name so memorable, was one which produced a
material influence on his subsequent proceedings, since it formed the founda-
tion of his celebrated hypothesis of positive and negative electricity, which
served him as the link by which many scattered facts might be grouped and
connected, and as a clue to the development of new and unobserved phe-
nomena. To reduce to the most brief, simple, and general terms, the expres-
sion of the first fruit of his observations, it may be said to consist in the es-
tablishment of the general principle, that when electricity is excited by the
mutual friction or attrition of any two bodies, both these bodies become elec-
trified ; and if both are insulated they will continue to be so electrified. They
will, however, be in different electrical states, since, if moveable, they would
attract and not repel each other ; but, nevertheless, each of them will exhibit
in relation to other bodies not electrified, the same properties. Thus sparks
may be drawn indifferently from either ; and each of them may be de-ekctriscd,
ELECTRICITY.
or discharged of their electricity, by being put in metallic communication with
the ground. These general facts he proved by direct experiment.
He placed two persons, A. and B., on insulating supports. In the hand of
A. he put a glass tube, which being rubbed by A. became electrified. This
tube was then touched at every part of the rubbed surface by B. ; after which
the same process was several times repeated, the tube being deprived of its >
electricity as often as it was touched by B. A third person, C., not insulated,
now presented his ringer or a metallic sphere to B., from whom a spark was
drawn ; and by repeating this, or by touching the person of B., the latter was
deprived of the electricity he had received from the tube. This was no more
than was expected. But on subjecting A. to the same process, the very same
effects were produced. It appeared, therefore, that both A. and B. were elec-
trified.
Being again electrified, as before, by the friction of the tube, instead of A.
and B. being successively touched by C., they were made to touch each other,
both remaining insulated. After this both were found to be as completely
de-elcctrised and restored to their ordinary state as when they had been touched
by C.
A cork ball, suspended by a silk thread, being electrified by contact with the
excited glass tube, was repelled when brought near the person of B., but it was
attracted when brought near the person of A.
From these experiments it appeared the electrical states of A. and B. were
different. Franklin called the state of B., and consequently that of the glass
tube from which he drew the electricity, positive and that of A. negative. The
one was said to be positively, the other negatively electrified. The cloth with
which A. rubbed the glass tube was, like A., negatively electrified — it attracted
the cork ball ; and the glass tube, like B., was positively electrified — it re-
pelled the cork ball.
The generality of this result was established by a great variety of experi-
ments. In all cases it appeared that the opposite electrical charges of the two
bodies submitted to friction, or of any insulated bodies in communication with
them, had the same reciprocally neutralizing power ; in virtue of which, when
brought into contact, or when a metallic communication was established be-
tween them, all signs of electricity would disappear.
Such is a strict statement of the facts as evolved in the experiments. The
hypothesis proposed by Franklin for their explication was as follows : All
bodies in their natural state are charged with a certain quantity of electricity,
in each body this quantity being of definite amount. This quantity of elec-
tricity is maintained in equilibrium upon the body by an attraction which the
particles of the body have for it, and does not therefore exert any attraction
for other bodies. But a body may be invested with more or les? electricity
than satisfies its attraction. If it possess more, it is ready to give i,p the surplus
to any body which has less, or to share it with any body in its natural state ;
if it have less, it is ready to take from any body in its natural state a part of its
electricity, so that each will have less than their natural amount. A body
having more than its natural quantity is electrified positively or plus, and one
which has less is electrified negatively or minus.
When two bodies are submitted to mutual attrition and oecome electrified,
one parts with a portion of its proper electricity, which is received by the
other. The latter then has more than its natural amount, and is positively elec-
trified ; the former has less, and is negatively electrified.
In the instance above stated, when A. rubs the glass tube, he loses a portion
of his natural electricity, and is negatively electrified ; while the tube receives
what he loses, and becomes positively electrified. When B. touches the tube,
116
ELECTRICITY.
he takes from it nearly all the electricity with which it is charged over and
above its natural amount ; for his body being of so much greater magnitude
thnn the tube, the proportion which will remain on the tube will be insig-
nificant.
s If when A. nibs the tube he were not insulated, he would not be electrified,
because, as fast as his body would lose its proper amount of electricity, the
deficiency would be made up from the earth, with which he is in free electri-
cal communication ; whereas in the former case being insulated, this supply
could not be obtained. Hence, in this theory, the earth is regarded as the
common reservoir of electricity, from which bodies negatively electrified re-
ceive what they want, and to which bodies positively electrified give up their
surplus, except in the case in which the one or the other are insulated.
Such, in general, was the Franklinian theory; which, however, will be
more fully developed hereafter.
Assuming these hypothetical principles, Franklin next proceeded to analyze
the phenomena of the Leyden jar. His first experiments were directed to es-
tablish the fact, that when the jar is charged, the inside is electrified positively,
and the outside negatively. A charged jar was placed on an insulating sup-
port, and a metallic wire bent into the form of a circular arc was then placed
with one end in contact with the outer coating. The other end was capable
of being brought into contact with the hook of the wire inserted through the
cork, and thereby put in metallic communication with the water contained in
the jar. This bent wire being supported by a handle of sealing-wax was
itself insulated, and no electricity could pass in the experiment, otherwise than
between the inside of the jar and the coating on the outside. On bringing the
upper extremity of the bent wire into contact with the hook, the jar was in-
stantly discharged, both the inside and the outside being restored to their
natural state. Franklin inferred from this, that before the discharge the in-
terior of the jar was positively electrified, and the exterior coating negatively
electrified, in an equal degree ; that is to say, that the interior of the jar con-
tained an excess of electricity over and above its natural amount, and the ex-
terior coating fell short of its natural amount by a quantity equal to that excess.
Various other experiments were made to verify this doctrine. Two metallic
knobs were placed near each other, one communicating with the external
coating, and the other with the water within the jar. A small cork ball sus-
pended by a silk thread was placed between those two knobs. The ball was
alternately attracted and repelled, " playing incessantly from one to the other,
the bottle was no longer electrised ; that is, it fetched and carried fire from
the top (inside) to the bottom (outside) of the bottle, till equilibrium was re-
stored."*
i had been observed by electricians in Europe, that a jar could not be
charged if its external coating were insulated ; that, in fact, it was a necessary
condition that a communication between that coating and the ground should be
provided and maintaiaed by some conducting matter, such as a metallic wire.
Franklin assumes, that no electricity can be conveyed to the inside without
causing the expulsion of an equal quantity from the outside ; but if the jar be
insulated, no means of escape being left for the electricity on the outside, no
accumulation can take place on the inside. f
In these experiments, we find also a description of the method of charging
a series of jars, now called the charge by cascade. " Suspend two or more
phials on the prime conductor, one hanging on the tail of another, and a wire
irom the last to the floor. An equal number of turns of the wheel will charge .
them all equally, and every one as much as one alone would have been ; what i
* Franklin's Works (Letters), vol. v., p. 192. Boston. 1837. t Letters, p. 190.
~v-~-~ -^v^^^^^^v^^^ ^^x> ^-^S^-^^^^^^^^^^^^V^-N. I
ELECTRICITY.
117
is drawn out of the tail of the first serving to charge (the inside of) the second ;
what is driven out of the second charging the third, and so on."*
In this way he constructed an electrical battery. After charging a series
of jars he separated them, putting the insides in metallic communication with
each other, and the outsides, in like manner, in metallic communication. By
si;ch means he obtained discharges sufficiently powerful to kill the smaller
animals.
But the experiment which appeared to be most conclusive in the support
it gave to his hypothesis of the transfer of the electricity from the exterior to
the interior of the jar in the process of charging it, was the following : A jar
was suspended by its hook on the prime conductor of the machine, so that a
metallic communication was maintained between the conductor and the inside
of the jar. Meanwhile, the rubber was insulated. On working the machine,
the jar was found to receive no charge. A metallic wire was now rolled round
the outer coating of the jar, and carried thence to the rubber, so as to make a
communication between them, both being still, in other respects, insulated.
The jar was now charged with ease, which was explained by the supposition
that the electric fluid passed from the outside coating by the wire to the rubber,
and thence by the glass globe and prime conductor to the inside of the jar.f
According to the hypothesis above stated, there is no essential distinction,
so far as relates to the charge, between the external coating and the internal
contents of the jar ; the one ought to be as easily charged as the other. This
was accordingly found to be the case. A jar was placed on an insulating sup-
port, and while the external coating was put in communication with the prime
conductor of the machine, the wire extending from the interior was put in com-
munication with the rubber. The electricity of the outer coating was now
positive, and that of the inside negative ; and the jar was discharged, and pro-
duced the same effects as before.
The next important investigation was as to the place in which the electricity
of the jar was contained. To determine this, Franklin charged a jar, and in-
sulated it. He then removed the cork, and the wire by which the electricity
was conveyed from the machine to the inside of the jar. On examining these,
he found them free from electricity. He next carefully decanted the water
from the charged jar into another insulated vessel. On examining this it was
found to be free from electricity. Other water in its natural state was now
introduced into the charged jar to replace that which had been decanted ; and
on placing one hand on the outside coating, and the other in the water, he re-
ceived the shock as forcibly as if no change had been made in the jar since it
was first charged.^
A piece of glass was then placed between two plates of lead extending nearly
to its edge on every side. One of these plates of lead being touched by the
hand, the other was charged with electricity as usual. The plates were then
removed from the glass, and, being examined, were found to be in their natural
state. On presenting the finger to the glass where the lead had covered it,
little sparks were received ; and on displacing the lead and touching it at both
surfaces, a violent shock was received.
From this he inferred that the glass was the substance in which the electri-
city was deposited ; and the metallic coating, or the water, or other conductor,
applied to it, " served only, like the armature of the loadstone, to unite the
forces of the several parts, and bring them at once to any point desired ; it be
ing the property of a non-electric [conductor], that the whole body instantly re
ceivesj or gives, what electrical fire is given to, or taken from any one of its parts. "||
From a very early period of the progress of electrical observations, the anal
* Letters, p. 199. t Letters, p. 253. J Letters, p. 201. || Letters, p. 202.
ogy between electricity and lightning had been noticed, and conjectures as to
their identity were expressed ; and in some cases distinct predictions hazarded,
that the time would arrive which would fully establish their identity. Dr.
Wall, in a paper published in the " Philosophical Transactions," speaking of
the electricity of amber, said that he had no doubt, " that by using a longer and
larger piece of amber, both the cracklings and the light would be much greater.
This light and crackling seems in some degree to represent thunder and
lightning."*
Mr. Grey, whose experiments have been already referred to, says, speaking
of electrical effects : " These are at present but in minimi s. It is probable
that, in time, there may be found out a way to collect a greater quantity of elec-
tric fire, and consequently to increase the force of that power, which, by sev-
eral of these experiments, si licet magnis componere parva, seems to be of the
same nature with that of thunder and lightning."
But of all the anticipations which are pretended to of the grand discovery
of the philosopher of Philadelphia, that which is by far the most remarkable
proceeded from his contemporary and competitor, the Abbe Nollet. Immedi-
ately after the first exhibition of the experiments proving the identity of elec-
tricity and lightning, the abbe urged his claim to a share of the merit of having
suggested them. In a paper, dated Paris, June 6, 1752, the abbe, after noti-
cing the experiments, observes that he " is more interested than any one to
come at the facts, which prove a true analogy between lightning and electricity,
since these experiments establish incontestably a truth which he had conceived,
and which he ventured to lay before the public more than four years ago."
In the fourth volume of his Lecons de Physique is found the following pas-
sage : " If any one should undertake to prove, as a clear consequence of the
phenomenon, that thunder is, in the hands of nature, what electricity is in ours
— that those wonders which we dispose at our pleasure are only imitations on
a small scale of those grand effects which terrify us, and that both depend on
the same mechanical agents — if it were made manifest that a cloud prepared
by the effects of the wind, by heat, by a mixture of exhalations, &c., is in re-
lation to a terrestrial object, what an electrified body is in relation to a
body near it not electrified, I confess that this idea, well supported, would
please me much ; and to support it, how numerous and specious are the rea-
sons which present themselves to a mind conversant with electricity. The
universality of the electric matter, the readiness of its action, its instrumen-
tality, and its activity in giving fire to other bodies ; its property of striking
bodies externally and internally, even to their smallest parts (the remarkable
example we have of this effect even in the Leyden jar experiment, the idea
which we might truly adopt in supposing a greater degree of electric power) ;
all these points of analogy which I have been for some time meditating, begin
to make me believe that one might, by taking electricity for the model, form to
oneself, in regard to thunder and lightning, more perfect and more probable
ideas than any hitherto proposed."!
The volume containing this passage was printed and published toward the
close of the year 1748, as appears by the register of the Academy of Sciences,
in which the order to print it bears date on the 9th of August in 'that year. It
will presently appear that Franklin's first publication of the same views was
in a letter addressed to Mr. Collinson, despatched in 1749. So far, therefore,
as relates to these speculations, the priority of publication must be conceded
to » Nollet. It seems, however, improbable that Franklin, residing in Philadel-
phia, could have seen Nollet's volume between the date of its publication and
' Priestley, History of Electricity, p. 11.
t Nollet, Lemons de Physique, torn iv., p.
315, 8me. edition.
ELECTRICITY. 119
the despatch of his letter, an interval not exceeding a few months ; and the
probability is, therefore, that these views occurred simultaneously to the Amer-
ican and the French philosopher.
From the moment that Franklin first engnged in electrical inquiries, nis
views were constantly bent on the discovery of some useful purpose to which
the science could be applied. Cut lono? was a question never-absent from
his thoughts.* This craving after utility was the great characteristic of his
mind, and might be regarded as being carried almost to a fault. To bring the
properties of matter and the phenomena of nature into subjection to the uses
of civilized life, is undoubtedly one. of the great incentives to the investigation
of the laws of the material world ; but it is assuredly a great error to regard it as
either the only or the principal motive to such inquiries. There is in the per-
ception of truth itself — in the contemplation of connected propositions, leading
by the mere operation of the intellectual faculties, exercised on individual
physical facts, to the development of those great general laws by which the
universe is maintained — an exalted pleasure, compared with which the mere
attainment of convenience and utility in the economy of life is poor and mean.
There is a nobleness in the power which the natural philosopher derives from
the discovery of these laws, of raising the curtain of futurity, and displaying
the decrees of nature, so far as they affect the physical universe for count-
less ages to come, which is independent of all utility. There is a lofty and
disinterested pleasure in the mere contemplation of the harmony and order of
nature, which is above and beyond mere utility. While, however, we thus
claim for truth and knowledge all the consideration to which, on their own ac-
count, they are entitled, let us not be misunderstood as disparaging the great
•benefactors of the human race, who have drawn from them those benefits
which so much tend to the wellbeing of man. When we express the enjoy-
ment which arises from the beauty and fragrance of the flower, we do not the
less prize the honey which is extracted from it, or the medicinal virtues it
yields. That Franklin was accessible to such feelings, the enthusiasm with
which he expresses himself throughout his writings in regard to natural phe-
nomena abundantly proves. Nevertheless, rtstful application was, undoubtedly,
ever uppermost in his thoughts ; and he probably never witnessed any physical
fact, or considered for a moment any law of nature, without inwardly proposing
to himself the question, " In what way can this be made beneficial in the
economy of life ?"
The analogy and probable identity of lightning and electricity were first sug-
gested and demonstrated by Franklin in a letter addressed to Collinson, which
appears without a date, and which has by some been referred to the date (1750)
of that which immediately follows it in the published collection of letters. It
appears, however, by a subsequent letter,! addressed to the same gentleman in
1753, that he was occupied in the investigation of this question from 1747 to
* After he had succeeded in making the discoveries which have been already explained, and
beside* inventing- a little moving power, which he called an electrical jack, he expressed to Mr.
Collin=on. in his nsunl playful manner, his disappointment at being unable to find any application of
the science beneficial to mankind. " Chagrined a little that we ha\je hitherto been able to produce
nothing1 in this wav of nse to mankind, and the hot weather coming on when electrical experiments
are nrt an agreeable, it is proposed to put an end to them for this season, somewhat humorously, in a
partv of pleasure on the banks of the Schnvlkill. Spirits, at the same time, are to be fired by a
spark sent from side to side throueh the river without any other conductor than the water; an exper-
iment which we some time since performed to the amazement of many. A turkey is to be killed for
dinner bv tho electrical shock, and roasted by the electrical jack, before a fire kindled by the electri-
fied bof/Ic, when the healths of all the famo'us electricians of England, Holland, France, and Ger-
many, nre to bo drunk in electrified bumpers, under the discharge of guns from the electrical battery."
— l.r''erx. p. 210.
t " In my former paper on this subject, written first in 1747, enlarged and sent to England in 1749,
I considered the sea as the great source of lightning," dec. — Letters, p. 300.
120 ELECTRICITY.
] 749 ; that the paper now referred to was first written in the former year, but
that it was enlarged and improved and sent to England in 1749, which must,
therefore, be taken as its date. In this letter he enters very fully into his rea-
sons for considering the cause of electricity and lightning to be the same phys-
ical agent, differing in nothing save the intensity of its action ; and he truly
observes, that the difference in degree, however enormous, is no argument
against the identity of the agents, but that, on the contrary, an almost infinite
difference might be naturally looked for. " When a gun -barrel in electrical
experiments has but little electrical fire in it, you must approach it very near
with your knuckle before you can draw a spark. Give it more fire, and it will
give a spark at greater distance. Two gun-barrels united, and as highly elec-
trified, will give a spark at a still greater distance. But if two gun-barrels
electrified will strike at two inches distance, and make a loud snap, to what a
great distance may ten thousand acres of electrified cloud strike and give its
fire, and how loud must be that crack !"*
The analogies which he stated as affording presumptive evidence of the
identity of lightning and electricity may be briefly enumerated. The electrical
spark is zigzag, and not straight ; so is lightning. Pointed bodies attract elec-
tricity ; lightning strikes mountains, trees, spires, masts, and chimneys. When
different paths are offered to the escape of electricity, it chooses the best con-
ductor ; so does lightning. Electricity fires combustibles ; so does lightning.
Electricity fuses metals ; so does lightning. Lightning rends bad conductors
when it strikes them ; so does electricity when rendered sufficiently strong.
Lightning reverses the poles of a magnet ; he proved by direct experiment that
electricity had the same effect. A stroke of lightning when it does not kill, c
often produces blindness ; he rendered a pigeon blind by a shock of electricity
intended to kill it. Lightning destroys animal life ; he killed a hen and a tur-
key by electrical shocks.
Having ascertained by experiment the property of points in attracting and
discharging electricity, Franklin, acknowledging his inability to give a satis-
factory theory of this effect, set himself to inquire how " this power of points
might possibly be of some use to mankind." To discover this, he suspended
a large conductor, by silk lines, from the ceiling, and charged it with electricity,
so as to enable it to give a spark at the distance of two inches, " strong enough
^ to make one's knuckle ache." Under these circumstances, he found that if a
I person presented the point of a needle to the conductor at more than a foot
1 distance, no electricity could be retained upon it, all passing off by the needle
as fast as it was supplied. He also found, that if, after it was strongly electri-
fied, the needle was presented at the same distance, the conductor would in-
stantly lose its electricity. That the electricity, in this case, really passed off
by the point, he ascertained by observing that, in the dark, the light was visi-
ble on the point of the needle ; and also because, when the person presenting
the needle was himself insulated, or stuck the needle in a bundle of sealing
wax, the electricity no longer escaped.
The next experiment is so remarkable in itself, and so characteristic of the
mind of Franklin, that we shall give it in his own words : —
" Take a pair of large brass scales, of two or more feet beam, the cords of
the scries being silk. Suspend the beam by a packthread from the ceiling, so
that the bottom of the scales may be about a foot from the floor ; the scales
will move round in a circle by the untwisting of the packthread. Let an iron
punch (a silvfrsinith's iron punch, an inch thick, is what I use) be put on the
end upon the floor, in such a place as that the scales may pass over it in ma-
king their circle ; then electrify one scale by applying the wire of a charged
* Letters, p. 218.
ELECTRICITY. 121
phial to it. As they move round, you see that scale draw nigher to the floor,
and 'lip more when it comes over the punch ; and, if that be placed at a proper
distance, the scale will snap, and discharge its fire into it. But if a needle be
stuck on the end of the punch, its point upward, the scale, instead of drawing
nigh to the punch and snapping, discharges its fire silently through the poin|,
and rises higher from the punch. Nay, even if the needle be placed upon the
floor near the punch, its point upward, the end of the punch, though so much
higher than the needle, will not attract the scale and receive its fire ; for the
nrcille will get it, and convey it away, before it comes nigh enough for the
punch to act.
" Now, if electricity and lightning be the same, the conductor and scales
may represent electrified clouds. If a tube (conductor) of only ten feet long
will strike and discharge its fire on the punch at two or three inches distance,
and electrified cloud of perhaps ten thousand acres may strike and discharge
on the earth at a proportionally greater distance. The horizontal motion of the
scales over the floor may represent the motion of the clouds over the earth, and
the erect iron punch a hill or high building ; and then we see how electrified
clouds, passing over hills or high buildings at too great a height to strike, may
be attracted lower till within their striking distance. And, lastly, if a needle
fixed on the punch with its point upright, or even on the floor below the punch,
will draw the fire from the scale silently at a much greater than the striking
distance, and so prevent its descending toward the punch ; o-r if in its course
it would have come nigh enough to strike, yet, being first deprived of its fire,
it cannot, and the punch is thereby secured from the stroke : / say, if these
things are so, may not the knowledge of this power of points be of use to mankind
in preserving houses, churches, ships, <$fc.,from the stroke of lightning, by direct-
ing us to fix, on the highest parts of those edifices, upright rods of iron, made
sharp as a needle, and gilt to prevent rusting ; and, from the foot of those rods,
a wire down the outside of the building into the ground, or down round one of the
shrouds of a ship, and down her side till it reaches the water? Would not these
pointed rods probably draw the electrical fire silently out of a cloud before it came
nigh enough to strike, and thereby secure us from that most sudden and terrible
mischief?
" To determine this question, whether the clouds that contain lightning
be electrified or not, I would propose an experiment to be tried, where it
may be done conveniently. On the top of some high tower or steeple, place a
kind of sentry-box, big enough to contain a man and an electrical stand. From
the middle of the stand let an iron rod rise, and pass, bending, out of the door,
and then upright twenty or thirty feet, pointed very sharp at the end. If the
electrical stand be kept clear and dry, a man standing on it, when such clouds
are passing low, might be electrified, and aflbrd sparks, the rod drawing fire to
him from a cloud. If any danger to the man be apprehended, let him stand
on the floor of his box, and now and then bring near to the rod the loop of a
wire that has one end fastened to the leads, he holding it by a wax handle ; so
the sparks, if the rpu is electrified, will strike from the rod to the wire, and not
afl'ect him."*
When this and other papers by Franklin, illustrating similar views, were
sent to London, and read before the Royal Society, they are said to have been
considered so wild and absurd that they were received with laughter, and were
not considered worthy of so much notice as to be admitted to a place in the
" Philosophical Transactions."! They were, however, shown to Dr. Fother-
gill, who considered them of too much value to be thus stifled ; and he wrote a
Letters, p. 235. t Franklin's works (memoirs), vol. L, p. 299.
122 ELECTRICITY.
t
preface to them, and published them in London. They subsequently went
through five editions.
After the publication of these remarkable letters, and when public opinion
in all parts of Europe had been expressed upon them, an abridgment or ab-
stract of them was read to the society on the 6th of June, 1751. It is a re-
markable circumstance that, in this notice, no mention whatever occurs of
Franklin's project of drawing lightning from the clouds. Possibly this was the
part which had before excited laughter, and was omitted to avoid ridicule.
Franklin was under an impression that a pointed rod could not be ex-
pected to attract the lightning, unless it were placed at a very great height in
the atmosphere ; and to render the result of his projected experiment more cer-
tain, he determined to wait for the completion of a spire then being erected in
Philadelphia: Meanwhile, however, a different and more promising expedi-
ent occurred to him ; which was, to send up the pointed wire upon a kite, by
the string of which the lightning might be brought within his reach. He soon
succeeded in realizing this, the most bold and grand conception which ever
presented itself to the imagination of an experimental philosopher.
He prepared his kite by making a small cross of two light strips of cedar,
the arms of sufficient length to extend to the four corners of a large silk hand-
kerchief stretched upon them. To the extremities of the arms of the cross he
tied the corners of the handkerchief. This being properly supplied with a
tail, loop, and string, could be raised in the air like a common paper kite, and.
being made of silk, was more capable of bearing rain and wind. To the up-
right arm of the cross was attached an iron point, the lower end of which was
in contact with the string by which the kite was raised, which was a hempen
cord. At the lower extremity of this cord, near the observer, a ke\ was fast-
ened ; and, in order to intercept the electricity in its descent, and prevent it
from reaching the person who held the kite, a silk riband was tied to the ring
of the key, and continued to the hand by which the kite was held.
Furnished with this apparatus, on the approach of a storm, he went out upon
the commons near Philadelphia, accompanied by his son, to whom alone he
communicated his intentions, well knowing the ridicule which would have at-
tended the report of such an attempt, should it prove to be unsuccessful. Hav-
ing raised the kite, he placed himself under a shed, that the riband by which
it was held might be kept dry, as it would become a conductor of electricity
when wetted by rain, and so fail to afford that protection for which it was pro-
vided. A cloud, apparently charged with thunder, soon passed directly over
the kite. He observed the hempen cord, but no bristling of its fibres was ap-
parent, such as was wont to take place when it was electrified. He presented
his knuckle to the key, but not the smallest spark was perceptible. The agony
of his expectation and suspense can be adequately felt by those only who have
entered into the spirit of such experimental researches. After the lapse of
some time, he saw that the fibres of the cord near the key bristled, and stood on
end. He presented his knuckle to the key, and received a strong bright spark.
It was lightning. The discovery was complete, and Franklin felt that he was
immortal.
A shower now fell, and, wetting the cord of the kite, improved its conducting
power. Sparks in rapid succession were drawn from the key, a Leyden jar
was charged by it, and a shock given ; and, in fine, all the experiments which
were wont to be made by electricity were reproduced identical in all their con-
comitant circumstances.
This experiment was performed in the month of June, 1752. It will be re-
membered that Franklin's letters to Mr. Collinson had been previously pub-
lished, translated, and widely circulated in different languages throughout Eu-
ELECTRICITY.
123
rope ; and in these letters, not only the object of the experiment and the prin-
ciple it was designed to establish were fully explained, but minute and circum-
stantial directions were given as to the manner of executing it. Persons en-
gaged in physical inquiries in different parts of Europe were invited, and pre-
pared to submit it to a trial when convenient opportunities offered. Among
these was a French electrician, M. Dalibard, who, in the spring of 1752, pre-
pared means of making the experiment, at Marly-la- Ville, a place situate about six
leagues from Paris. He succeeded on the 10th of May, about a month before
th<5 experiment of Franklin, and made a report of his proceedings to the Acad-
emy of Sciences at Paris on the 13th, in which he states that the experiment
had been made at the suggestion and according to the method laid down by
Franklin.* The experiment of Franklin, in Juno, was made before he could
have been informed of that of Dalibard. The same experiment was repeated
on the 18th of May by M. de Lor. at his house in the Estrapade, at Paris ; and
an account of it, as well as that of M. Dalibard, was communicated to the
Royal Society of London by the Abbe Mazeas, in a letter dated 20th May, two
days after the latter experiment, in which the abbe ascribes all the credit of
the experiment to Franklin. f
The right of Franklin to the credit of having established the identity of light-
ning and electricity has been denied, and the honor claimed for the French
philosophers Nollet and Dalibard. This claim was advanced, not when Eu-
rope from east to west, and from north to south, was filled with amazement
and admiration at the philosophic boldness of the " Philadelphian experiment"
(as it was universally called), or the profound sagacity with which it was con-
ceived, with which its minute details were prescribed, and its results foretold
— not when its illustrious author was elected by acclamation a member of the
learned societies of Europe, and received the academical degree from the most
ancient and honored of universities — but after the lapse of nearly a century, after
the story of Franklin's kite had passed from the transactions of philosophical so-
cieties, and the memoirs of institutes of sciences, into the primers of children.
In short, it was so recently as the year 1831, that, in his admirable Eloge of
Volta, M. Arago, taking a retrospect of electrical discovery, maintained that
after the conjecture of Nollet, on the identity of lightning and electricity, an
experiment to ascertain the fact was almost useless. And the reasons he as-
signed for such inutility were, that the experiment had been first made when
flame appeared on the spears of soldiers, and the masts of ships ;J but that, if
any credit be claimed for the actual exhibition of the fact by immediate experi-
ment, that credit is due to M. Dalibard.
if such a statement, supported by such a reason, had proceeded from a quar-
ter less entitled to respect than the " perpetual secretary of the Academy of
* " En suivant la route que M. Franklin nous a tracee, j'ai obtenu one satisfaction complete." —
Memoir de M. Dalibard, quoted in Franklin's works, vol. v., p. 288.
t See Phil. Trans., vol. xvii. 1752.
t " Les premieres vues de Franklin sur 1'analogie de I'electricite et dn tonnerre n'etaient, comme
l«s idees anterieures de Nollet que de simples conjectures. Toute la difference, entre les deux phy-
Biciens, se reduisait alors a un projet d'experience, dont Nollet n'avait pas parler Sans por-
ter attaint a la gloire de Franklin, je dois remarquer que I'experisnce proposee etait prcsque inutile.
Les soldats de la cinquieme legion Romaine 1'avaient deja faite pendant la guerre d'Atrique. le jour
ou, comme Cesar le rapporte, le fer de tous les javelots parut en feu a la suite d'un orage. 11 en e*i
de m&me des nombreux navigateurs a qui Castor et Pollux s'fitaient montres, soil aux pointes me-
talliques des mats ou des vergues, soil sur d'autres parties saillantes de leurs navires Au
reste, soil que plusieurs de ces circonstances fusseut ignorees, soil qu'on ne les trouvat pas demon-
stratives, des essais directs semblereut necessaires, et c'est a Dalibard, notre compatriote, que la sci-
ence en a eteredevable. Le 10 Mai, 1752, pendant un orage, la grande tige de metal pointue qu'il
avail etablie dans un jardin de Marly-la- Ville donuait de petites etincelles, comme le fait le conduc-
teur de la machine feiectrique ordinaire, quand on en approche un fil de fer. Franklin ne realisa
eotte meme expferience aux Etats-Unis, a 1'aide d'un cerf volant, qu'un mois plus tard." — Eloge de
Volta, p. 12.
Sciences," the astronomer royal of France, the man who stands, if not first, in-
contestably in the first rank of living meteorologists — in a word, than M. Arago
— no one would think it entitled to a serious answer. It would be classed
among those strange obliquities of historic vision which have led some persons
to see in Richard and Macbeth, not tyrants and murderers, but mild and virtu-
ous princes, cruelly wronged by the calumnies of tradition.
Nollet conjectured the probable identity of lightning and electricity, but gave
not the most distant hint of any possible method by which the probability could
he experimentally tested. Franklin boldly maintained the identity of these
agents, gave numerous and cogent reasons to support that position, and more-
over prescribed with minute details two distinct methods by which lightning
could be brought into the hands of the observer, and submitted to the same ex-
perimental examination as electricity had undergone. One of these two meth-
ods was, in scrupulous accordance with his directions, applied in France ;
and the other, within a few weeks, was adopted by himself in America. The
results of both were precisely what Franklin had foretold. Both were com-
pletely successful.
But, rejoins M. Arago, the whole affair of the experiment was useless, for
it had already been effected. The flame on the javelins of the Roman senti-
nels of the fifth legion was sufficient as an experiment, not to mention Castor
and Pollux, so often seen by sailors on their mast-tops ! What would so se-
vere a reasoner as M. Arago say to another who should maintain, without fur-
ther experiment, that either of these luminous appearances was identical with
lightning 1 — and if that were conceded, where would have been found the
proof that these meteors, and the lightning with which they would be granted
to be identified, were due to the same physical agent as that manifested by the
friction of glass and resin ?
If however, says M. Arago again, the experiment were necessary or useful,
science owes it to M. Dalibard, who executed it at Marly-la- Ville a month be-
fore Franklin, with his kite, made it at Philadelphia. This statement is not
attended with the circumstantial accuracy which M. Arago is accustomed to
observe. The fact, as stated by M. Dalibard himself, was, that he took Frank-
lin's printed directions as to the manner of performing his (Franklin's) project-
ed experiment, and followed them to the letter in preparing his apparatus at
Marly-la-Ville. Having accomplished this, he put the directions for making
the observations into the hands of one Coiffier, an old retired soldier, who fol-
lowed the trade of a carpenter, and who probably also erected the apparatus
itself, and desired Coiffier to make the experiment in the manner prescribed
by Franklin, if a storm should occur at a time when he (Dalibard) was absent.
The first storm did occur when Dalibard was at Paris. Coiffier presented a piece
of metal to the rod, and received several sparks. He then ran for the cure,
who, with him, repeated the experiment, and immediately wrote a full descrip-
tion of it, with which he despatched Coiffier himself to Paris to M. Dalibard.
Thus it appears that so far from science being indebted to M. Dalibard for
the earliest exhibition of this capital experiment, that philosopher had no other
share in it, save that of having caused the erection of the conducting rod and
other apparatus according to Franklin's directions. In the actual performance
of the first experiment, he had no share whatever.
Let us now see how the account of credit stands on the score of this memo-
rable discovery : —
In 1708, Dr. Wall mentions a resemblance of electricity to thunder and light-
ning.
In 1735, Mr. Grey conjectures their identity, and that they differ only in \
degree.
ELECTRICITY.
In 1748, the Abbe Nollet reproduces the conjecture of Grey, attended with
more circumstantial reasons.
In 17-19, Franklin strongly maintains their identity, and accurately describes
two ways of experimentally testing it, and sends his instructions to Eu-
rope, to enable others with better local opportunities than he possessed to
try it.
In 1752, MM. Dalibard and Delor, in France, make the preparations prescri-
bed according to one of Franklin's methods ; and Franklin makes in Phil-
adelphia preparations according to the other method.
On lOlh May, 1752, Coiffier and the curate make the experiment as directed
by Franklin, and obtain the results foretold by Franklin.
In June, 1752, Franklin makes the same experiment in Philadelphia, ac-
cording to the other method, with like results.
If the credit of the discovery is due to him who first conjectured the identity
of lightning and electricity, then it is due to Mr. Stephen Gray.
If it be due to him who showed the method of making the capital experi-
ment by which the identity must be either established or refuted, it belongs to
Franklin.
If it be due to the persons at whose expense Franklin's apparatus was
first constructed, then it must be shared between Franklin, Dalibard, and
Delor.
If it be due to him who first, in person, performed the experiment proposed
by Franklin, it must be accorded to the carpenter and dragoon Coiffier.
We shall now dismiss this matter, to which more space has been allotted
than it is entitled to, merely observing, that much as living philosophers must
be surprised at the claim advanced in favor of M. Dalibard, that electrician
himself, could he rise from his tomb, would see with infinitely more astonish-
ment an honor sought for him to which he never himself aspired, or supposed
he had the slightest title.
Franklin having established, beyond the possibility of dispute, the identity
of lightning and electricity, proceeded, in accordance with that characteristic
attribute of his mind already noticed, to turn this discovery to the benefit of
mankind, and proposed the general adoption of those pointed metallic rods now
so commonly erected at the summits of buildings to protect them from the effects
of lightning. The principle of this apparatus, as now constructed for edifices
and ships, differs in nothing essential from that proposed by its celebrated in-
ventor.
This part of the labors of Franklin in electricity cannot be dismissed with-
out a passing notice of the dispute which was maintained in England respect-
ing the comparative advantages of conductors with pointed ends as proposed by
Franklin, or with round or blunted ends as suggested by some others. It were
for the honor of science that this discreditable controversy had never taken
place. It forms, a rare, if not a solitary example, of the prostitution of philos-
ophy to gratify the meanest passions of an obstinate and imbecile prince. The
persevering tenacity with which the British monarch fastened his last grasp
on his American subjects about to wrest themselves from his power, and assert
their independence, is well known. By his pursuit of that object, after all
reasonable hope of securing it had expired, the treasures of his kingdom were
lavished, and the blood of his people flowed in mutual slaughter. Bad as were
these consequences, they were nevertheless the ordinary consequences of war.
But the vindictive spirit of the court passed from the field and council-board to
the peaceful halls of science ; and because Franklin, the agent, representative,
and counsellor of the American people, had proposed the use of pointed con-
ductors, a party of parasites was found, who, to gratify George III., advocated
126 ELECTRICITY.
b/unt conductors ; and to crown this most egregious absurdity, blunt conductors
were actually erected upon the royal palace ! *
Franklin next directed his inquiries to the quantity and nature of the elec-
tricity with which the clouds in various states of the atmosphere were charg-
ed. To facilitate his experimental inquiries on this subject, he erected in his
house in Philadelphia a pointed iron rod, which he was enabled to insulate at
pleasure. This rod was put in communication with a system of bells, which
alternately attracted and repelled their hammers when electrified. Whenever
a cloud charged with electricity passed over the house within such a distance
as to affect the conductor, these bells would ring and inform him of the oppor-
tunity of prosecuting his experiments.
Having satisfied himself that the clouds were frequently in an electrified
state when there was no thunder or lightning, his next inquiry was, whether
they were electrified positively or negatively. This was a question of more
interest to him, because, according to his theory, if their .electricity were neg-
ative, the earth, "in thunder-strokes, would strike into the clouds, and not the
clouds into the earth." To determine this, he "took two phials and charged
one of them with lightning from the iron rod, and gave the other an equal
charge (of electricity) from the prime conductor. When charged he placed
them on a table within three or four inches of each other, a small cork ball
being suspended by a fine silk thread from the ceiling, so as to play between
the wires. If both bottles then were electrified positively, the ball being attract-
ed and then repelled by the one must be repelled by the other. If the one
positively and the other negatively, then the ball would be attracted and repel-
led by each, and continue to play between them, so long as any considerable
charge remained.''!
From experiments with this apparatus lie concluded that clouds were some-
times positively and sometimes negati' ny electrified, but oftener negatively.
Electrical instruments had not yet, however, advanced to such a state of im-
provement as to enable a mind, even acute as his, to make much further dis-
covery in atmospheric electricity ; a> d although the details of his experiments
arid his theoretical speculations regarding them must always be read with
profound interest, yet no further principles of importance appear to have been
evolved from them.
If it be true that the Royal Society laughed at his speculations and refused
to them a place in their Transactions, they were not slow to retract and repair
their error. They conferred upon him their highest honor (the Copley medal),
and unanimously elected him an honorary member of their society, in 1753.
An experiment so remarkable as the attraction of lightning from the clouds,
could not fail to be verified and repeated by many enthusiastic lovers of science.
One of the first instances of this zeal was rendered memorable by its fatal re-
sult. Professor George William Richmann, of St. Petersburg, was preparing
an essay on electricity ; and in order to obtain the most certain and accurate
knowledge of the phenomena, he placed a conductor on his house, making a
metallic communication between it and his study, where he provided means for
repeating Franklin's experiments. On the 6th of August, 1753, while Rich-
inann attended a meeting of the Petersburg Academy of Science, distant thun-
der was heard, on which he went to his house, accompanied by Sokolow, the
engraver, who being engaged to illustrate his work, desired to see those elec-
* " The king's changing his pointed conductors for lihinf. ones is a matter of small import;)
me. II 1 Lad a wish about them, it would l>o, that he would reject them altogether a.s mvIl.x-Ma
For it is only since he thought himself and his family sale from the thunder of heaven that he ha
dared to use his own thunder in destroying his innocent subjects." — Franklin's Works viii 227
t Lclterb, p. 302.
ELECTRICITY.
127
trical appearances which he would have to represent in the plates. While
Richmann was describing to Sokolow the nature of the apparatus, a thunder-
clap was heard louder and more violent than any which had been remembered
at St. Petersburg. Richmann stooped toward the electrometer of the appara-
tus to observe the force of the electricity, and " as he stood in that, posture, a
great white and bluish fire appeared between the rod of the electrometer and
his head. At the same time a sort of steam or vapor arose, which entirely be-
numbed the engraver, and made him sink on the ground." Several parts of
the apparatus were broken in pieces and scattered about. The doors of the
room were torn from their hinges, and the house shaken in every part. The
wife of the professor, alarmed by the shock, ran to the room, and found her
husband sitting on a chest, which happened to be behind him when he was
struck, and leaning against the wall. He appeared to have been instantly
struck dead.*
During 1752 and the succeeding years the subject of atmospheric electricity
engaged the attention of persons devoted to physical science in different parts
of Europe. The climate of England being less favorable to such researches
than more southern latitudes, fewer opportunities of observation were offered ;
nevertheless, Canton, Wilson, and Bevis, soon repeated and verified the Phila-
delphia experiments. Canton showed that the clouds were electrified, some-
times negatively and sometimes positively, and carried such observations fur-
ther than Franklin. A
But the most acute and indefatigable follower of Franklin at this time, in at-
mospheric electricity, was Beccaria, who, in 1753, published a treatise on
electricity at Turin, and a series of letters on the same subject, at Bologna, in
1758. He erected numerous conducting rods in different places of observa-
tion, and elevated kites according to Franklin's method. By raising these to
various heights, he observed the electricity of different atmospheric strata, and
he improved this mode of observation by interlacing the strings with metallic
wire. To keep his kites constantly insulated, and at the same time to give
them more or less string, he rolled the string upon a reel, which was supported
by pillars of glass, and his conductors were placed in metallic communication
with this reel.
This profound philosopher, and acute and accurate observer, has left in the
history of electricity traces of his genius second only to those with which
Franklin and Volta impressed it. Beccaria was the first who diligently studied
and recorded the circumstances attending the phenomena of a thunder-storm.
He observes that the first appearance of a thunder-storm (which generally hap-
pens when there is little or no wind) is one dense cloud or more, increasing
rapidly in magnitude, and ascending into the higher regions of the atmosphere.
The lower edge is black and nearly horizontal, but the upper is finely arched
and well defined. Many of these clouds often seem piled one upon the other,
all arched in the same manner ; but they keep constantly uniting, swelling, and
extending their arches. When such clouds rise, the firmament is usually
sprinkled over with a great number of separate clouds of odd and bizarre forms,
which keep quite motionless. When the thunder-cloud ascends, these are
drawn toward it ; and as they approach they become more uniform and regular
in their shapes, till, coming close to the thunder-cloud, their limbs stretch mu-
tually toward one another, finally coalesce, and form one uniform mass. But
sometimes the thunder-cloud will swell and increase without the addition of
these smaller adscititious clouds. Some of the latter appear like white fringes
a', the skirls of the thunder-cloud or under the body of it, but they continually
grow darker and darker as they approach it.
* Phil. Trans., vol. xlix., p. Cl.
128 ELECTRICITY
When the thunder-cloud, thus augmented, has attained a great magnitude,
its lower surface is often ragged, particular parts being detached toward the
earth, but still connected with the rest. Sometimes the lower surface swells
into large protuberances, tending uniformly toward the earth ; and sometimes
one whole side of the cloud will have an inclination to the earth, which the
extremity of it will nearly touch. When the observer is under the thunder-
cloud after it has grown large and is well formed, it is seen to sink lower and
to darken prodigiously, and, at the same time, a great number of small clouds
are observed in rapid motion, driven about in irregular directions below it.
While these clouds are agitated with the most rapid motions, the rain generally
falls in abundance ; and if the agitation be very great, it hails.
While the thunder-cloud is swelling and extending itself over a large tract
of country, the lightning is seen to dart from one part of it to another, and often
to illuminate its whole mass. When the cloud has acquired a sufficient ex-
tent, the lightning strikes between the cloud and the earth in two opposite
places, the path of the lightning lying through the whole body of the cloud and
its branches. The longer this lightning continues, the rarer does the cloud
grow, and the less dark in its appearance, till it breaks in different places and
shows a clear sky. When the thunder is thus dispersed, those parts which
occupy the upper regions of the atmosphere are spread thinly and equally, and
those that are beneath are black and thin also, but they vanish gradually with-
out being driven awayAp the wind.
The instruments for electrical observation used by Beccaria never failed to
give indications corresponding to the successive changes in progress in. the
atmosphere above his observatory. The stream of fire from his conductor was
generally uninterrupted while the thunder-cloud was directly above it. The
same cloud in its passage electrified his conductor alternately with positive and
negative electricity. The electricity of the conductor continued to be of the
same kind so long as the thunder-cloud was simple and uniform in its direc-
tion ; but when the lightning changed its place, a change in the species of
electricity ensued. A sudden change of this kind would also happen after a
violent flash of lightning ; but the change would be gradual when the lightning
was moderate, and the progress of the thunder-cloud slow.*
But among the labors of this philosopher, that rendered by modern discov-
eries most memorable was one which by his contemporaries and their imine.-
diate successors was regarded as an ingenious and over-refined conjecture,
rather than what it afterward proved to be, the distant shadow of a coming dis-
covery detected by the far-sighted rrh'nd of this acute and extraordinary man.
Franklin had been the first to magnetize fine sewing-needles by the electric
spark. Dalibard observed that the extremity of the needle at which the spark
from the excited glass entered had northern polarity, and both Franklin and
Dalibard discovered that a spark of equal force given to the other end of the
needle deprived it of the magnetic virtue. From these and from similar ex-
periments made by himself, Beccaria inferred that the polarity of the magnetic
needle was determined by the direction in which the electric current had
passed through it. He assumed the magnetic polarity acquired by ferrugin-
ous bodies which had been struck by lightning, as a test of the direction of the
electric current in passing through them, and thence inferred the species of
electricity with which the thunder-cloud had been charged. f
Extending this analogy to the earth itself, Beccaria conjectured that terres-
trial magnetism was, like thai of the needle magnetized by Franklin and Dali-
* Beccaria, Lcttere dell' Elettricismo. Bologna, 1758 .- p. 146, et seq.
t " I poli del mattoue teste descritto, provano che anche in certi corpi che abbiano certa porzione \
di ferro, ilfulmine imprime un scgiio jxrmanente della sua direzione."— Beccaria, Lettere, p. 261. I
ELECTRICITY. 121 '
bard, the mere effect of permanent currents of natural electricity, established
and maintained upon its surface by various physical causes ; that, as a violent
current, like that which attends the exhibition of lightning, produces instanta-
neous and powerful magnetism in substances capable of receiving that quality,
so may a more gentle, regular, and constant circulation of the electric fluid
upon the earth impress the same virtue on all such bodies as are capable of
it. Observation proves that a vast quantity of this fluid circulates between
different parts of the atmosphere in storms ; that a quantity not inconsiderable
circulates in the time of ordinary rain ; and that even when the weather is se-
rene arid the heavens unclouded, some quantity is still observable. " Of such
fluid, thus ever present," observes Beccaria, " I think that so'me portion is con-
stantly passing through all bodies situate on the earth, especially those which
are metallic and ferruginous ; and I imagine it must be those currents which
impress on fire-irons, and other similar things, the power which they are known
to acquire of directing themselves according to the magnetic meridian when
they are properly balanced."*
He observed, that to say we are insensible to this current around us, is no
good argument against its existence ; for that its uniformity, constancy, and
universality, would necessarily render it imperceptible, since all bodies must
partake of it in common. His hypothesis to account for the variation and dip
is not the least remarkable part of this extraordinary anticipation. He consid-
ers that the electro-magnetic currents have not all a pommon centre, but may
have several situate in our northern hemisphere. The aberration of their com-
mon centre from the true terrestrial pole may probably be the cause of the
variation of the compass. The periodical change to which the position of this
common centre is subject would correspond with and cause the periodical
change of that variation, and the obliquity of these currents may be the cause
of the dip.f
That the anticipation of the fundamental principle of electro-magnetism, and
terrestrial magnetism, should have been complete in all its details, could scarce-
ly have happened at that epoch without something approaching to inspiration ;
but it will be readily admitted that these guesses of Beccaria, when compared
with the discovery of Orested and the theory of Ampere, form one of the most
striking episodes in the history of science.
The analogy between lightning and the electric spark, arising from the pe-
culiar noise or explosion with which each was attended, had been noticed by
many electricians. Beccaria. however, investigated and demonstrated its cause, ;
by showing that it proceeded from a pulsation produced in the air by the sudden
displacement of that portion of it through which the electric fluid passes. This
displacement being transmitted through the atmosphere in exactly the same
manner as vibrations are produced by a sonorous body, the sound accompany-
ing an electric discharge, and the thunder which attends the atmospheric elec-
* " Di tale fuoco, io penso che alcana parte perpetuamente discorra per tutti i corpi situati sopra
la terra, massimamente per i metallic! e ferigni. Penso che esso sia, il quale attraversando le padelle,
Is aiolle, le palette ed altri si fatti bislnnghi ferri, i quali d'ordinario pendono o posano verticalmente, j
imprima loro la virtil di situarsi nella meridiana rnagnetica, allora che sono convenientemente bili- >
cati." — Lettere, p. 266.
t " Questa sistematica elettrico-magnetica circolazione, secondp me, non procederebbe da an solo
panto setteiHrionale, ma avrebbe infinite sorgenti in divers! punti del nostro settentrionale emisfero,
forse successivamente. pill folte ne luoghi piu vicini ad alcun panto settentrionale ; e la frequenza, la
posizione, o piuttosto la direzione del corso loro mi si rappresenterebbono dalla posizione, frequen-
za, e diverzione, con che si dispongono intorno alii emisferi di una sferica calamita le ordinatissime
fiize della limitura di ferro. E giasta ana tale ipotesi, 1'aberrazione del centro comane di tutte le
varie sorgenti, che estenderebbono la loro azione ad una data ragione, dal \ero punto settentrionale
mi spiegherebbe 1'aberrazione della calaraita ; il periodo di quella aberrazione mi spiegherebbe il
periodo di questa declinazione ; i'obbliquita, con che qaelle sorgenti spiccierebbono da terra, e si
direggerebbono verso mezzo di, mi spiegherebbe e la inclinazione degli aghi, e la particolare fa-
ciliti con che si calamitano i ferri si fattamente inclinati." — Lettere, p. 268.
9 ^ j
130 ELECTRICITY.
tricky, ensue. Beccaria verified this hypothesis by experiment. He con-
structed a glass siphon, in one leg of which air was enclosed above a column
of mercury, and compressed by the column in the other leg of the siphon. On
discharging a Leyden jar through the air thus enclosed, the column of mercury
in the other leg was suddenly elevated, and recovered its position after several
oscillations.* This fact was also noticed by Kinnersley, the friend and asso-
ciate of Franklin, but not until a later period.
This was afterward corroborated by Bouguer and De la Condamine, when
they encountered a violent thunder-storm on one of the highest mountains of
Peru. The cloud from which the thunder proceeded was placed at but a small
distance above their heads. The thunder heard by them consisted only of
single cracks, or explosions, like those which attend the discharge of electric
batteries ; an effect manifestly produced by the proximity of the cause of the
sound, and the highly rarefied state of the air at that great elevation.
Contemporaneously with Beccaria, Franklin, and Canton, the subject of at-
mospheric electricity engaged the attention of Lemonnier, who erected an ap-
paraWis according to Franklin's method at St. Germain-en-Laye, with which he
showed that sparks were received from the conductor not only in times of
storm, but also when the heavens were cloudless. He also first showed that
the electricity of the air underwent every twenty-four hours periodical varia-
tions of intensity.
Beccaria determined the law of these variations, and was the first who dem-
onstrated that at all seasons, at all heights, and in every state of the wind, the
electricity of an unclouded atmosphere is positive. He found no indications
of electricity in the air in high winds, when the firmament was covered with
black and scattered clouds, having a slow motion in a humid state of the air ;
but in the absence of actual rain, he found that in changeable squally weather,
attended with occasional showers of snow, hail, or rain, the electricity was very
variable, both as to its quantity and quality, being sometimes feeble and some-
times intense, sometimes positive and sometimes negative.
Contemporaneously with Beccaria in Italy, Canton prosecuted inquiries in
many respects similar in England, and in various matters of minor importance
these philosophers arrived at the same results. The most considerable dis-
covery due to Canton was, that the electricity developed in the friction of the
same substance is not always of the same kind. It will be remembered that
Duiaye gave the names vitreous and resinous to the two fluids, on the supposi- i|
tion that each was invariably produced by the friction of the classes of bodies Ji
signified by these terms. Canton, however, showed that glass itself was ca- i
pahle of being electrified negatively, and would be always so electrified, if the
rubber used were the fur of a cat. Canton also (as well as Beccaria) proved
that a volume of air in a quiescent state might be charged with electricity. To
Canton is also due the discovery of the virtue of the amalgam of tin and mer-
cury, still used with so much effect to augment the development of electricity
on glass.
The progress of the science had now attained a point at which the great
principle of induction could scarcely fail to force itself upon the notice of those
engaged in electrical researches. A natural law of the highest order, embra-
cing within the range of its application nearly the whole domain of electrical
phenomena, its discovery and development, forms an epoch in the history of
the science, scarcely second in importance even to that by which Franklin
brought meteorology within the legislation of electricity. How much, then,
will the veneration in which the memory of the philosopher of the West is
* Beccaria, Elettricismo Artificiale. Turin, 1753 : p. 227.
^**»~s^t*t
ELECTRICITY.
held be increased, if it can be demonstrated, contrary to what has been gener-
ally maintained by the historians of the science, that to him is justly owing the
honor of the discovery of this physical principle !
Some of the more obvious phenomena of induction were noticed so early in
the progress of electrical science as the researches of Mr. Grey ; and many
other effects proceeding from it presented themselves to subsequent experi-
mental inquiries, but attracted no attention, and led to no consequences. Tho
first series of experiments, conducted so as to develop in an unequivocal man-
ner this principle, were laid before the Royal Society by Canton, on the Gth
of December, 1753.* They consisted chiefly in rendering insulated conduc-
tors electrical, by bringing near to one end an excited glass tube, or stick of
wax, and exhibiting the varying state of cork-balls suspended on the conductor
by the alternate approach and removal of the excited electric.
These experiments having been communicated to Franklin, he pursued the
inquiry, and succeeded in expressing, in clear and unequivocal terms, the prin-
ciple of induction ; that is to say, in demonstrating that a body charged with
either kind of electricity will, on approaching a conductor in its natural state,
render that part of such conductor which is nearest to it electrical ; that its
electricity will be contrary to that of the approaching electrified body ; that on
removing the electrified body, the conductor would be restored to its natural
ftate : all which effects Franklin showed would follow from his theory, by as-
suming that the electric fluid is self-repulsive, and attracted by the matter of
the conductor.
The experiments and reasoning which appear to establish Franklin's right
to the honor of this discovery are so concise, that they may be stated here
nearly in his own words.
Let a metallic conductor, about five feet long and four inches in diameter,
be suspended by dry silk lines, so as to be insulated. From one end of it sus-
pend a tassel consisting of fifteen or twenty threads in a damp state, so as to
give them a conducting power. Present an electrified glass tube within five
or six inches of the opposite end, and keep it in that position for a few sec-
onds. The threads of the tassel will diverge, and when the tube is withdrawn
they will collapse.
While the tube is held near the opposite end of the conductor and the
threads are divergent, present the finger to the end of the conductor at which
the tassel is suspended. A spark will be received, and the threads of the
tassel will collapse.
Let the tube be then removed. The threads of the tassel will again di-
Terge.
Let the tube be again presented as before. The threads will again collapse,
and so on.
Finally, let the tube be presented to the tassel. The divergence of the
threads will immediately increase, and continue to increase, as the tube is
brought nearer to the tassel.
These phenomena are accounted for by Franklin in the following manner:
' By taking the spark from the end of the conductor, you rob it of part of its
natural quantity of electrical matter, which part so taken away is not supplied
by the glass tube, and the conductor remains negatively electrified. On with-
drawing the tube, the electric matter on the conductor recovers its equilibrium,
or equal diffusion ; and the conductor having lost some of its natural ••luctricity,
the threads connected with it lose part of theirs, and so are electriiiod nega-
tively, and repel each other.
• Phil. Trana., vol. xlviii., p. 350.
132
ELECTRICITY.
" When the tube is again presented to the opposite end of the conductor, the
part of the natural electricity which the threads had lost is again restored to
them by the repulsion of the tube forcing the electric fluid toward them from
other parts of the conductor, and thus restoring them to their natural state.
When the tube is once more withdrawn, the fluid is again equally diffused, and
tho threads, as before, are negatively electrified.
" Finally, when the tube is presented to the threads already diverging with
negative electricity, still more of their natural electricity is repelled by the ex-
cited tube, and the threads are more strongly negative than before, and their
divergence is consequently augmented."
Pursuing the principle thus developed still further, Franklin now having re-
stored the conductor to its natural state, presented the excited glass tube to the
tassel. The threads immediately diverged.
Maintaining the tube in that position with one hand, he presented the finger
of the other to the tassel. The threads receded from the finger as if repelled
by it.
This was explained on the same principle. When the excited tube is pre-
sented to the tassel, part of the natural electricity of the threads is driven out
of them into the conductor, and they are negatively electrified, and therefore
repel each other. When the finger is presented to the tassel (being then close
to the glass tube), part of its natural electricity is driven back through the
hand and body, and the finger becomes, as well as the threads, negatively elec-
trified, and so repels, and is repelled by them. To confirm this, hold a slender
light lock of cotton, two or three inches long, near a conductor positively elec-
trified. You will see the cotton stretch itself out toward the conductor. At-
tempt to touch it with the finger of the other hand, and it will be repelled by
the finger. Approach it with a positively-charged wire of a bottle, and it will
fly to the wire. Bring it near a negatively-charged wire of a bottle, it will
recede from that wire in the same manner that it did from the finger, which
demonstrates that the finger was negatively electrified as well as the cotton.*
The great principle thus thrown before the scientific world by Franklin, was
immediately taken up and pursued through its consequences by Wilke and
^Epinus, who carried on their researches together at Berlin. The most im-
portant result of their combined labors was the invention of the instrument,
which, as subsequently improved under the hands of Volta, became the CON-
DENSER now so useful in electroscopical investigations.
In applying the principle of induction to the phenomena of the Leyden jar,
and to the same effects as exhibited by the oppositely electrified surfaces of a
coated plate of glass, these philosophers saw that the negative state of one sur-
face of the glass was, according to the Franklinian theory, the necessary con-
sequence of the positive state of the other. This contrary state of the elec-
tricities could only be maintained on the supposition that glass was imperme-
able by the electric fluid ; and Wilke and jEpinus reasoned, that to whatever
extent air or any other body might be similarly impermeable, to the same ex-
tent might it be charged on its opposite surfaces. To realize this conception
with a plate of air, they coated two large boards of equal size with tin-foil, and
suspended them one over the other, leaving a space of about an inch in thick-
ness between them. This space was, in fact, a plate of air, of which the up-
per and lower surfaces were in contact with the metallic coating of the boards.
The lower board communicated with the ground, and a charge of positive
electricity was given to the upper one. The lower one then became charged
with negative electricity ; and when a person touched at the same time the
ELECTRICITY. 133
coating of the two boards, the equilibrium was re-established, and he received
the shock produced by the passage of the electric fluid from the one to the other.
Many curious experiments were exhibited with this apparatus. They found
that the two boards, when electrified, strongly attracted each other, and would
have rushed together if they had not been prevented by the strings. Some-
times, when the charge was strong, the intervening plate of air was not suf-
ficiently impermeable to resist the mutual attraction of the opposite electricities,
and a spontaneous discharge would take place through it. They considered
these two plates to represent the state of the clouds and the earth during a
thunder-storm ; the clouds being always charged with one kind of electricity,
and the earth with the other, while the body of atmosphere between them was
analogous to the stratum of air between the two boards. When the charges
of the earth and clouds become so strong that the air can no longer resist the
passage of the electric fluid through it, a spontaneous discharge ensues, the
fluid is seen in its passage by the light it evolves, and the violent displacement
of the air produced in its passage causes the thunder.
From these experiments, ./Epinus inferred that the phenomena of the Leyden
jar was not owing, as Franklin supposed, to any peculiar attraction of the
glass for the electric fluid ; for, since a plate of air might be charged as well
as a plate of glass, that property must be common to them, and was not pecu-
liar to the glass. He inferred, therefore, that this impermeability was a prop-
erty of all non-conductors ; and, since they can all receive electricity to a cer-
tain degree, it must consist in the difficulty and slowness with which the elec-
tric fluid moves in their pores, whereas, in perfect conductors, it meets with
no obstruction at all.*
./Epinus brought to the investigation of the Franklinian theory of electricity
those mathematical attainments in which its illustrious founder was deficient.
The manner in which that theory had been assailed by its opponents, and de-
fended by its partisans, was such as might have allowed interminable contro-
versy. ./Epinus first reduced its principles to exact mathematical statement,
with a view to ascertain whether the consequences deducible from them, by
rigorous calculation, should be in accordance with the observed phenomena,
not only in their general character, but in their numerical quantity. He as-
sumed, according to Franklin's hypothesis, that the molecules of the electric
fluid were self-repulsive, and that they were attracted by those of the bodies
on which they were diffused. He found, however, that the phenomena could
not be explained on these suppositions, unless it were also assumed that be-
tween the matter composing the masses of different bodies there existed a mu-
tually repulsive force, acting at sensible distances. At first he recoiled from an
assumption in direct opposition to the known properties of matter ; but the ne-
cessity of its admission, in order to give consistency and validity to the Frank-
linian theory, appears at length to have reconciled him to it.
Ths investigation of the physical relation between the principle of heat and
that of electricity, had attracted the attention of experimental philosophers at a
very early period in the history of electrical research. Beccaria suspected
that heat might itself be an immediate means for the development of electricity,
and made some experiments to illustrate this. He soon, however, relinquished
the inquiry, concluding that, in cases where the appearance of electricity fol-
lowed the application of heat, the effect was due to evaporation, or other
physical agents, which ensued. Priestley observed that heat had some relation
to the conducting power of bodies, since, by the elevation of temperature, that
quality was improved.
* jEpini Tentamcn, &c. Petersburg, 1759, p. 82, 83.
134 ELECTRICITY.
A mineral substance, brought from the east by the Dutch navigators, called
S by the natives of Ceylon, where chiefly it was found, Tournamal, and since
? known as Tourmaline, exhibited, under certain circumstances, a property
\ similar to that of amber, and other electrics. But the power was excited in it
/ by mere elevation of temperature. Lemery, the Due de Noia, Wilson, Priestley,
s and others, made experiments on this mineral, and published results, in which
/ there were much discordance and contradiction. ./Epinus first showed that the
( attraction and repulsion exerted by this gem when exposed to heat were owing
) to the development of electricity upon it ; and that, when so excited, its op-
S posite sides or ends had contrary kinds of electricity, one being always nega-
? tive and the other positive. This was the first case of the distinct exhibition
S of electrical polarity. Canton observed that the development of the electric
/ fluid upon it was produced only by change of temperature, and that whenever
S the gem was broken each fragment exhibited the same electrical polarity.
} At this period effects were observed, which, if chemical science had attained
\ a sufficiently advanced state, could not fail to have led to the discovery of
( electro-chemistry. Beccaria, by the electric spark, decomposed the sulphuret
) of mercury, and recovered the metals, in some instances, from their oxides.*
c Watson found that an electric discharge passing through fine wire rendered it
5 incandescent, and that it was even fused and burned. Canton, repealing these
< experiments with brass wire, found that, after the fusion by electricity, drops
> of copper only were found, the zinc having apparently evaporated. Beccaria
< observed that when the electric spark was transmitted through water, bubbles
) of gas rose from the liquid, the nature or origin of which he was unable to de-
< termine. Had he suspected that water was not what it was then supposed to
> be, a simple elementary substance, the discovery of its composition could
< scarcely have eluded his sagacity.
) After general laws have once been developed, and their application to par-
( ticular phenomena has become familiar, it appears wonderful that even quick-
> sighted and acute observers should have had such effects continually repro-
( duced under their eyes, without even making an approach to the discovery of
> their causes. Franklin found that the frequent application of the electric spark
< had eaten away iron ; on which Priestley' observed, that it must be the effect
) of some acid, and suggested the inquiry, whether electricity might not probably
< redden vegetable blues ? Priestley also observed that in transmitting electricity
) through a copper chain, a black dust was left on the paper which supported
< the chain at the points where the links touched it ; and, on examining this
) dust, he found it to contain copper.
< Some years after the invention of the Leyden jar, when the necessity of
> some sufficient indicator of the presence of electricity, and some visible meas-
( ure of its power became apparent, the invention of electrometers engaged the
/ attention of electricians. After several abortive attempts on the part of others,
^ the Abbe Nollet proposed the simple expedient of suspending two threads,
? which, when electrified, would separate by their mutual repulsion. Cavallo
S afterward improved upon this, by substituting two pith balls, suspended in con-
j tact by fine metallic wires— an apparatus still used. After this, various formr
j of electroscopic instruments were suggested and constructed by Volta, Saus-
? sure, and others, all depending on the principle that the intensity of the elec
S trie fluid was manifested by the force of its attraction or repulsion exerted upon
? light substances to which it was imparted.
j The principle of induction applied to the air-condenser by Wilke and ^Epi-
? nus, was taken up by Volta, and applied, first, to the constructor of the ELEC-
* Leltere del Elettricismo, $ 341, p. 282.
ELECTRICITY.
135
TROPHORUS, and subsequently to the common CONDENSEK, which, combined
with the electroscope, became in electricity an instrument of investigation
analogous in its character and importance to the compound microscope in optics.
The manner in which the electrified fluid is distributed upon insulated elec-
trified conductors next became the subject of inquiry. Beccaria showed that
its distribution is superficial, and that the internal parts of the electrified body
are in their natural state. It was shown that, whether the electrified conduc-
tor were hollow or solid, the electricity contained on it was the same. Le-
monnier first showed that the form of the conductor had an influence on the quan-
tity and the distribution of the fluids.
In 1778 Volta published a memoir on this subject, in which he proved, that
of two cylinders of equal superficial dimensions, that which had the greater
length would receive, cater is paribus, the stronger charge, and inferred that
great advantage would arise from the substitution of a system of small cylin-
ders for the large conductors of electrical machines. About the same period,
he showed how inflammable gases could be ignited in close glass receivers by
the electric spark, the apparatus for which purpose soon grew into his eudiom-
eter, for the analysis of gases. Soon after this, the same apparatus supplied
the means of inflaming a mixture of oxygen and hydrogen gas, which led to
the discovery of the composition of water.
In the year 1759 appeared, in the " Philosophical Transactions," a series of
papers by Mr. Robert Symmer, which are entitled to be recorded in the histo-
ry of electricity ; not so much on account of what they describe, as for the
theoretical views developed in them. The experiments of Symmer consisted
chiefly in exhibiting, by striking examples, the effect of the mutual attraction
of bodies electrified by opposite kinds of electricity. These results led him
to doubt the sufficiency of the Franklinian theory, then and long afterward uni-
versally received, to explain satisfactorily the phenomena ; and he was led to
consider whether the hypothesis of Dufaye might not be so modified as to ex-
plain them more adequately. Dufaye, as has been already stated, assumed the
existence of two independent electric fluids, which he supposed to be latent
in two distinct classes of bodies, the one in bodies of a vitreous, and the other
in bodies of a resinous nature ; and that these fluids, while they were each
self-repulsive, were mutually attractive of each other.
It was obvious that such an hypothesis was quite inconsistent with the known
phenomena of electricity, even limited as they were in variety at the period
now referred to. Symmer retained the supposition of Dufaye so far as regard-
ed the assumed existence of two distinct fluids mutually attractive, but he main-
tained that these fluids were not independent of each other. On the contrary,
he assumed that they were always co-existent in bodies not electrified ; that,
by their natural attraction, they held each other in subjection ; that every body
in its natural state contained equal quantities of these fluids, each molecule of
the vitreous fluid being combined with a molecule of the resinous fluid, the
compound molecule thus formed exciting neither attraction nor repulsion on the
other parts of the natural fluid.
This theory of two fluids was left by its author unsupported by any exten-
sive application to the phenomena which could be expected to shake the con-
fidence then generally given to the hypothesis of Franklin ; and although it is
noticed at some length in his history of electricity by Dr. Priestley, it obtained
no countenance or support until further advances in electrical experiments ren-
dered apparent the defects of the theory of a single fluid. It may be here ob-
served, that the French writers generally ascribe the theory of two fluids to
Dufaye, and are silent as to Symmer's share in it ; with what justice will be
apparent from what has been above stated.
136 ELECTRICITY.
In the year 1770, Dr. Priestley published his works on electricity. This
philosopher did not contribute materially to the advancement of the science by
the development of any new facts ; but in his History of Electricity he collected
and arranged much useful information respecting the progress of the science.
At this period the Honorable Henry Cavendish, whose name has been distin-
guished in other departments of physics, engaged in some original investiga-
tions respecting electricity. The discovery of the composition of water, by
transmitting an electric spark through a mixture of oxygen and hydrogen gases,
has been generally ascribed to him.* Cavendish conceived the notion of re-
ducing the phenomena of electricity to mathematical analysis, and had pro-
ceeded with a memoir on that subject, which was completed before he learned
that ^Epinus had produced a work with the same object. On comparing his
own paper with the Tentamen of ^Epinus, he found that they were nearly simi-
lar. Nevertheless, Cavendish published his memoir.
The year 1785 formed an important epoch in the history of electrical sci-
ence, marking, as it did, the commencement of those labors by which Coulomb
i;iid the foundations of ELECTRO-STATICS. This great experimental philoso-
pher was the first who really brought the phenomena of electricity within
the reach of numerical calculation, and thereby prepared the way for his fol-
lowers in the same field to reduce this most subtle of all physical agents to the
rigorous sway of mathematics. It is to Coulomb we owe it that statical elec-
tricity is now a branch of mathematical physics.
The immediate instrument by which this vast object was attained was the
balance of torsion, which he had already used with signal success in other deli-
cate physical inquiries. This apparatus, which will be fully explained in the
following pages, consisted of a needle suspended in a horizontal position by an
exceedingly fine wire or filament of silk attached to its centre of gravity. The
attraction, or other force of which the intensity is to be measured, is made to
act on one end of this needle, so as to twist the filament by which it is sus-
pended ; and it is resisted in its effort to effect this by the reaction proceeding
from the torsion so produced. This reaction, and therefore the force which
produces it, and is in equilibrium with it, was proved by Coulomb to be pro-
portionate to the angle described by the needle round its centre of motion.
Such was the sensibility of this exquisite instrument, that it was found to be
perceptibly affected by a force not exceeding the twenty-millionth part of a
grain.
"With this instrument Coulomb measured the force with which electrified
bodies attract and repel each other ; and the first result of this investigation
was the discovery, that the law of this attraction and repulsion was the same
which Newton showed to prevail among the great bodies of the universe. In
fact, he showed that two bodies, oppositely electrified, attract each other with
a force which, c&teris paribus, is the same at equal distances, and which aug-
ments in the same proportion as that in which the square of the distance is di-
minished. Also if two bodies be similarly electrified, they will repel each
other by a force which increases according to the same proportion when the
distance between them is diminished.
By attaching a very small circular disk of paper coated with metallic foil to
an insulating handle, Coulomb found that by touching with the face of the disk
an electrified surface, and then submitting the disk itself thus electrified by
contact to the test of the balance of torsion, he could determine the depth of
the electric fluid on the surl'ace'touched by the disk. In this manner was he
enabled to gauge or sound the electricity on the surface of bodies, so as to com-
• This claim has been recently called in question.— See Larduer on the Steam-Engine. Seventh
Edition, p. 303.
ELECTRICITY.
137
pare numerically its depth on different bodies, or on different parts of the same
body.
With this instrument he measured the proportion in which electricity was
shared between insulated conductors when brought into contact, and also the
law according to which its depth varied on different parts of the same insulated
conductor. These results acquired, at a later period, still greater importance,
supplying, as they did, tests by which the mathematical analysis of the science
could be tried.
The same apparatus supplied the means of investigating the law according to
which an insulated electrified conductor had its charge gradually diminished by
dissipation in the surrounding air, and by the escape of the fluid by the imper-
fect insulation of the supports.
The results of the observations of Coulomb on the distribution of the elec-
tric fluid on the surfaces of conductors illustrated satisfactorily the doctrine of
points, which formed so prominent a part of Franklin's researches. The the-
oretical solution of this problem was not, however, effected till a later period.
The demonstration of the identity of lightning and electricity naturally di-
rected the attention of philosophers to the solution of other meteorological phe-
nomena by means of the same agency. The explanation of the aurora borealis
had long exercised the sagacity and baffled the attempts of those devoted to
physical researches. Some ascribed this appearance to solar light refracted
in the higher regions of the air, others assigned it to the agency of the mag-
netic fluid. Euler imagined it to proceed from the same ether which formed
the tails of comets ; Mairan conceived it to arise from the mixture of the at-
mosphere of the sun with that of the earth ; but when the properties of elec-
tric light became known, and when its appearance in rarefied air had been ob-
served, all these hypotheses were by common consent abandoned, and no
doubt was entertained that, whatever might be the details of the natural process
by which it was produced, the aurora borealis was an effect of atmospheric
electricity. Eberhart, professor at Halle, and Paul Frisi at Pisa, were the first
who proposed an explanation of it, founded on the following facts : "1. Elec-
tricity transmitted through rarefied air exhibits a luminous appearance, precise-
ly similar to that of the aurora borealis." — " 2. The strata of atmospheric air
become rarefied as their altitude above the surface of the earth is increased."
Hence they argued that the aurora is nothing more than electrical discharges
transmitted through parts of the upper regions of the atmosphere, so rarefied
as to produce that peculiar luminous appearance which they exhibit. This
theory, which was embraced and improved in its details by Canton, Beccaria,
Wilke, Franklin, and other contemporary electricians, has received further
countenance from more recent researches.
Attempts were also made to explain on electrical principles other meteorolo-
gical effects ; such as waterspouts, whirlwinds, rain, fogs, hail, &c., but no
satisfactory conclusions resulted from these investigations, and the discussion
of such phenomena forms a part of the meteorological inquiry of the present
time.
While the series of experimental researches which have just been related
were in progress, many attempts were made to trace electricity in the phenom-
ena of vegetable and animal life, and more especially to apply it as a medical
agent in cases of organic disease in the animal system. None of these at-
tempts, however, led to any consequences sufficiently important to entitle them
to attention in this brief sketch.
After electroscopes had been much improved, and in their application to at-
mospheric electricity had derived great power from the addition of a long
pointed conductor, extending from the diverging balls to a height of several
138 ELECTRICITY.
feet, Volta engaged in the investigation of the electric state of the air. He
substituted for the suspended balls two blades of dry straw, hanging in contact
and communicating with the lower end of the conducting rod. In addition to
this, he had recourse to another apparently strange and unusual expedient. He
placed on the point of the rod a taper, so as to cause this conductor to termi-
nate in a flame. He contended that the flame attracted to the point of the
conductor three or four times as much electricity as would be collected in
its absence. This was explained by the effect of the vertical current of air
which the flame maintained directly over it, which established a better com-
munication between the metallic conductor and the strata of air above it.
Assuming this property of flame, Volta argued, that since fires robbed the at-
mosphere above them of electricity faster and more effectually than metallic
points, it must follow that, to prevent coming storms, or to mitigate their force,
the best expedient would be to light enormous fires in the middle of extensive
plains, or, better still, on elevated stations. If the effects of the lamp on the
atmospheric electrometer were admitted, there would be nothing unreasonable
in the supposition that large fires may, in a short interval of time, rob immense
volumes of air and vapor of their electricity.
Volta wished to submit this theory to an experiment on a large scale, but
Avas not able to carry the design into effect. M. Arago suggested, that by ma-
king suitable meteorological observations in those parts of Staffordshire and
other English counties which abound in vast iron furnaces, where fires of ex-
traordinary magnitude are maintained night and day, and comparing the results
with similar observations made in adjoining agricultural districts, the conjec-
ture of Volta might be tested.*
Observations of this kind have accordingly been recently made both in Eng-
land arid in certain parts of Italy, the results of which will be explained at the
proper place in this volume.
It has been already stated, that direct observations proved that the atmo-
sphere, in its ordinary condition, is always charged with positive electricity.
The beginning of the year 1780 was signalized by a capital experiment, by
which it was proved that the source whence this vast amount of the electric
fluid was derived, or, to speak more correctly, the cause of the disturbance of
the general equilibrium of the globe, which gives a surplus of the positive fluid
to the air, and leaves the earth surcharged with negative fluid, and which, in its
effects, assumes all the terrific forms of the tempest and the hurricane, and
piobably of many other violent convulsions which are occasionally exhibited in
the war of the elements, is to be found in the process of natural evaporation,
which continually maintains its silent and imperceptible progress upon the sur-
faces of ocean, lake, and river, and even upon those of organized bodies. That
heat passes off in a latent form by such means, and equalizes and moderates
the general temperature around us, was well known ; but it was not suspected
that the elements of the storm, the coruscations of meteoric light, and the splen-
dors of he aurora, were due to the same cause.
Volta states, that in the year 1778 this idea occurred to him, and that he j
conceived the notion of an experiment by which it might be brought to an im- ]
mediate trial. Let a metallic dish filled with water be placed on an insulating )
support, and exposed in the open air until it evaporates, the dish being main- <
tained in communication with a sufficiently sensible condensing electroscope. |
If, in evaporating, the positive fluid be carried off, the dish will, after the evap-
^ oration, be negatively electrical, and the electroscope will show it ; if no!, the
( electroscope will give no sign. Various circumstances prevented Volta from
j trying this experiment until the month of March, 1780, when, being in Paris,
* Eloge de Volta, p. 18.
lw^
ELECTRICITY.
139
lie succeeded, in company with some members of the Academy of Sciences.
There appears, nevertheless, to remain some doubt as to the share which
Volta really had in this famous experiment, since, in the account of it pub-
lished by Lavoisier and Laplace, it is related as performed by them, and Volta
is mentioned incidentally as being present on the occasion.*
After the phenomena of electricity had, by the labors of Coulomb, been re-
duced to exact numerical estimation, this branch of physics was in a state to
permit its being brought within the pale of mixed mathematics. To accom-
plish this it was necessary to express, by mathematical formulae, the intensity
of the electric fluid on different parts of insulated conductors of given forms,
placed either separately, or in such a position as to exercise an electrical in-
fluence upon each other without contact, or, finally, when placed in actual con-
tact. To establish such formulae, it was necessary to assume some definite
hypothesis as the law of electrical action. The Franklinian theory of a single
fluid appeared to be incapable of affording the means of explaining, with numer-
ical precision, the state of such bodies. It is true that this long-received hy-
pothesis was sufficient to account, in a general way, for the electrical state of
bodies under the ordinary circumstances of their mutual action ; but when rig-
orous numerical accuracy was demanded — when not merely the general cir-
cumstances of the dense accumulation of electricity in one part of the surface,
its more feeble intensity at another, its total abstinence from a third place,
or the presence of negative electricity on a certain side of a conductor, and pos-
itive electricity on another, were severally demanded ; but when it was required
to determine the exact numerical measure of the depth of the fluid at each particu-
lar spot on a given insulated conductor, placed under given conditions with ref-
erence to others, so that such numerical measure, so obtained by calculation,
might be compared with the actual depth observed by the instruments invented
and applied by Coulomb, then this theory appeared to fail ; at least, none
of its advocates produced any such calculations. Laplace investigated, on
mathematical principles, the distribution of electricity on ellipsoids of revolu-
tion, assuming, as the basis of his reasoning, the hypothesis of two fluids. Biot
also investigated the same problem applied to spheroids of small eccentricity ;
but the general subjugation of this portion of electrical science to mathematical
analysis is due to Poisson.
This illustrious analyst took as the basis of his investigations the theory of
two fluids proposed by Symmer and Dufaye, with such modifications and addi-
tions as were suggested by the researches of Coulomb. He regarded the
mutual attractions and repulsions exhibited by electrified bodies, not as real
forces exercised by those bodies, but as altogether due to the electric fluids
with which they are charged. The laws of attraction and repulsion devel-
oped by Coulomb are therefore assumed as those of the electric fluids. The
particles of each of these fluids are assumed to repel each other with a force
varying according to that law, while the particles of each fluid attract those of
the contrary fluid by a force governed by the same law. These conditions
are sufficient to supply the mathematical formulae necessary to the determi-
nation of the depth and quality of the electric fluid on every part of the surface
of a body of given figure placed under any given electrical conditions. The
electric fluids of either kind would, by virtue of their self-expansive property,
escape from the surface of the body on which they rest ; but this is prevented
by the pressure of the surrounding air, which retains them in their position so
long as their expansive force is less than that pressure. On bodies of elonga-
ted forms, or those which have edges, corners, or points, it is shown, as a con-
sequence of this theory, that the electric fluid accumulates in greater depths
• Eloge de Volta, p. 21.
140 ELECTRICITY.
about the ends, edges, corners, or points, than in other places. Its expansive
force at such parts is therefore greater than elsewhere, and will exceed the
atmospheric pressure, and escape when at other parts of the surface it is
retained.
This theory will be explained in the present work, as far as its development
is consistent with the object of this volume. It will not, therefore, be need-
ful to enlarge upon it further in this place. It may, however, be asked why it
is, seeing that the theory of two fluids is sufficient for the explanation of all
the phenomena to which it has yet been applied, and that, on the other hand,
the theory of a single fluid fails to afford any satisfactory or accurate explana-
tion of so many phenomena, the latter theory, nevertheless, still has followers,
and that even among electricians, whose opinions cannot be regarded other-
wise than with sentiments of respect, it is still clung to as the hypothesis best
entitled to reception and confidence ? It is not easy to assign any sufficient rea-
son for this, unless one can be found in the profound and abstruse nature of the
mathematical principles by the aid of which alone the effects are capable of be-
ing expressed. When it is remembered that, until very recently, electricity was
regarded as exclusively a part of experimental physics ; that researches in it
were chiefly carried on by persons engaged in chemical investigations ; that,
from the nature of their studies and pursuits, such persons rarely cultivated
even the elements of mathematics, and almost never pursued analytical science
into those more profound parts which are now indispensable for the solution of
the class of problems which electricity has presented — it cannot be matter of
much surprise that reasoning which is incapable of being expressed save by
symbols of which the force and import must be unintelligible to the great mass
of such persons, should fail to carry conviction to their understanding. To
arrive at such conviction, they must either commence their education anew, or
be content to receive those new doctrines on their faith in the assurance of
those who are capable of investigating them. Either side of such an alterna-
tive is never very willingly embraced.
Having now followed the progress of discovery in this part of electrical sci-
ence to that point at which all subsequent researches must be regarded as the
labor of our contemporaries, the province of the historian ceases. Whatever
has been effected more recently will properly form a part of the subject matter
of the volume here presented to the reader, of which it is hoped that a brief
exposition and analysis of the researches of contemporary philosophers will
form not the least interesting and useful portion.
L.
THE MINOR PLANETS.
Classification of the Planets. — Mercury. — Transit over the Sun.— Relative Position with /egard to
the Sun. — Difficulty of observing it. — Venus. — Diurnal Motion of Venus and Mercury indicated
by the Shadows of Mountains. — Direction of the Axis of Rotation. — Seasons, Climates, and
Zones. — Orbits and Transits of Mercury and Venus. — Mountains on Mercury and Venus. — Influ-
ence of the Sun at Mercury and Venus. — Twilight on Mercury and Venus. — Mars. — Atmosphere
of Mars. — Physical Constitution of Mars. — Has Mars a Satellite ? — Appearance of the Sun at
Mars. — Its Close Analogy to the Earth.
.J
THE MOOR PLANETS.
THERE is no subject of inquiry to which the improved powers of the tel-
escope have been directed with greater effect than the investigation of the
physical condition of the several planets composing the solar system. We
shall on the present occasion take a review of some of these bodies, and shall
state the chief circumstances which have been discovered respecting them.
In a general survey of the system, the planets composing it will naturally
be classed in three distinct groups, the first of which we shall call the minor
planets, the second the new planets, and the third the major planets.
Proceeding from the sun outward in the system, the four planets which are
nearest to that luminary are Mercury, Venus, the Earth, and Mars. Between
these bodies there prevails a striking analogy. We find that they are not
very different in magnitude ; that they correspond closely, so far as we can
discover, in their geographical character ; that they receive in not very differ-
ent proportions the influence of the sun. The close alliance between them
has also occurred to other astronomical writers, inasmuch as they are some-
times called the terrestrial planets, from their analogy to the earth.
OF THE PLANET MERCURY.
The planet Mercury revolves at a distance from the sun of about thirty-six
millions of miles, completing his periodical revolution in about eighty-eight days,
or something less than three of our months. The diameter of this pl.-met is
about three thousand two hundred miles, or four tenths of that of the earth, and
consequently its volume or bulk is about a sixteenth of that of our jjlobe. As
Mercury revolves round the sun in an orbit enclosed within that of the earth, it
follows that his illuminated hemisphere, which is always presented to the sun
in the course of each revolution, must assume every possible variety of position
in regard to the earth. Thus when Mercury is between the sun and earth as
at A, in what is called inferior conjunction, his dark hemisphere is turned tow-
144
THE MINOR PLANETS.
ard us, and he is invisible, except in the case which sometimes occurs, in
which he is so exactly in line of the direction of the sun as to be between the
eye and some portion of the solar disk. In that case the planet is seen as a
circular black spot on the dislf of the sun, and the appearance of its motion
upon that disk is called a transit of Mercury,
When the planet, on the other hand, is on the opposite side of the sun, at
B, its illuminated hemisphere is presented directly in the line of vision ; but
in that case, the planet being in exactly the same quarter of the heavens as the
sun is, would necessarily rise and set with the sun, and its appearance being
obscured by the immeasurably superior splendor of the sun, it would not be
seen. When the planet is in an intermediate position on either side of the sun
in its periodical course, its illuminated hemisphere being presented as it always
is, directly to the sun, will only be partially turned to the earth, and the planet
THE MINOR PLANETS. 145
will he seen under a corresponding variety of phases, in short, it will undergo
all the changes which the moon presents in its monthly course round the earth,
as represented in the figure.
When near the point behind the sun, it will be nearly full, or gibbous ; and
when near the point where its dark hemisphere is turned to the earth, it will
be a crescent. In a certain intermediate position it will be halved, and will pass
through all the other phases.
In making its circuit round the sun, it will be seen alternately at the east and
at the west of that luminary, separating from it in each direction to an extent
limited by the magnitude of its orbit round the sun. When it is at the west of
the sun, it sets before the sun, and rises before the sun. It cannot, in that case,
be seen in the evening ; but if it be separated from the sun by a sufficient dis-
tance, it will rise so early as to anticipate the light of the morning which
precedes the sun's rays, and may then be seen as a morning star. On the other
hand, when it is at the east of the sun, it rises after the sun. and sets after it.
It cannot, therefore, be seen in the morning ; but provided it be sufficiently dis-
tant from the sun to remain above the horizon until the darkness is sufficient to
render it visible, it will be seen as an evening star.
The orbit of Mercury is so limited in its breadth, compared with the distance
of the earth from the sun, that even when that planet is at its greatest apparent
distance from the sun, it sets in the evening long before the end of twilight ; and
when it rises before the sun, the latter luminary rises so soon after it that it is never
free from the presence of so much solar light as to render it extremely difficult
to see the planet with the naked eye. In short, Mercury is seldom seen at all,
except with a telescope. It is said that Copernicus himself never saw this
planet.
OF THE PLANET VENUS.
The planet VEXUS is, on many accounts, more favorably circumstanced for
telescopic observation than Mercury. Its diameter is nearly equal to that of
the earth, and nearly three times as great as that of Mercury. Its distance
from the sun being about seventy millions of miles, it separates itself in its pe-
riodical course so widely from the sun, that when it is east of the sun it re-
mains above the horizon in the evening after night-fall ; and when it is west of
the sun' it rises in the morning so long before the hour of sunrise that it is dis-
tinctly visible. Owing to the absence of the solar light, it forms, therefore,
the object with whiofc every one is familiar, under the names of the morning and
evening star. It is subject, by the operation of the same causes, to the sajue
variety of appearances as Mercury. When it is nearly between the earth and
the sun it appears a thin crescent, and when beyond the sun it appears full ; ar.l
in the intermediate positions exhibits, like Mercury, all the variety of phases
of the moon.
DIURNAL MOTION OF VENUS AND MERCURY.
One of the most interesting objects of telescopic inquiry regarding the con-
dition of the planets is, the question as to their diurnal rotation. In general,
the manner in which we should seek to ascertain this fact would be, by exam-
ining with powerful telescopes the marks observable upon the disk of the planet.
If the planet revolves upon an axis, these marks, being carried round with it
would appear to move across the disk from one side to the other ; they would
disappear on one side, and, remaining for a certain time invisible, would reap-
pear on the other, passing, as before, across the visible disk. Let any one
10
146
THE MINOR PLANETS.
stand at a distance from a common terrestrial globe, and let it be made to re-
volve upon its axis : the spectator will see the geographical marks delineated
on it pass across the hemisphere which is turned toward him. They will suc-
cessively disappear and reappear. The same effects must, of course, be ex- $
pected to be seen upon the several planets, if they have a motion of rotation
resembling the diurnal motion of our globe. If this species of observation be
attempted with respect to the planets MERCURY and VENUS, we shall immedi-
ately find the investigation obstructed by an unexpected difficulty. Their disks
present no permanent marks or characteristics. They are, it is true, diversified
more or less by lights and shadows, but we soon discover that these varieties
of feature are not of a permanent kind ; but, on the contrary, that they are
continually shifting and changing, like the clouds that float in an atmosphere.
]t has, in fact, been ascertained, that these appearances in the inferior planets
are produced by clouds, with which the thick atmosphere that invest them are
continually loaded. These clouds are so continuous that they never permit us
to see the geographical character of the planets Mercury and Venus at all.
For a long period this circumstance seemed to render futile all attempts to
ascertain the rotation of these planets accurately. At length, however, a cir-
cumstance, apparently accidental, led CASSINI and SCHROTER to the discovery
of the fact of the rotation of VENUS on its axis.
This discovery was effected by observing that the points of the horns of the
crescent of Venus were at certain moments cut off square, and after a certain
time would recover their sharpness. This was found to take place nearly at
the same time each successive evening and morning. The cause was soon
ascertained. In a certain part of the surface of the planet a lofty mountain
flung its shadow across the region which formed a point to the horn. The
diurnal rotation of the planet soon carried this point into another position, so
that the shadow disappeared and allowed the horn of the crescent to recover its
sharpness. Each time that the horn became thus blunted, it was ascertained
that the mountain had returned to the same position, and consequently that the
planet must have completed one revolution on its axis.
It is a remarkable fact, that the same circumstance was found to take place
in the instance of the planet MERCURY, and the result has been, that these two
planets have been ascertained to have a diurnal rotation; that of MERCURY
being completed in 24 hours, 5 minutes, 28 seconds, and that of VENUS in 23
hours, 21 minutes, 7 seconds. Thus it appears the alternations of day and
night in these planets are regulated by the same intervals as the earth.
DIRECTION OF THE AXIS OF ROTATION. SEASONS, CLIMATES, AND ZONES.
The position of the axis on which a planet revolves, is ascertained by ob-
serving the direction of the apparent motion of the permanent marks upon its
disk — the axis being necessarily perpendicular to such motion. Since, how-
ever, the rotation of MERCURY and VENUS, as we have just explained, do not
show the apparent motion of any of these permanent marks, the circumstances
which led to the discovery of their rotation, did not indicate the position of the
axes on which they turned. It is said, however, that observations have been
made which justify the conclusion that the axis on which the planet VENUS
turns, has a position in reference to its orbit very different indeed from that of
the earth. Let it be remembered, that the axis of the earth leans from the
perpendicular through an angle of 231°, in consequence of which the polar cir-
cles and tropics have corresponding limits. It is this arrangement which
divides the surface of our globe into the temperate and frigid zones ; the tem-
perate being those which lie between the tropics and the polar circles, in which
THE MINOR PLANETS. 147
the sun is never vertical, on the one hand, nor, on the other hand, is ever absent
for twenty-four successive hours. How different must be the circumstances at-
tending the planet Venus, if it be true, as there seems reason to believe, that the
axis of that planet, instead of being inclined 23^° from the perpendicular, is
inclined 75° from it. The polar circles would include a portion of each hem-
isphere, the extent of which would be five sixths of its entire breadth. Thus
the greater portion of such a globe would be subject to vicissitudes somewhat
similar to those which are incidental to our frigid zone, but the changes would (
be much more complicated. Within a certain space of such a planet, the sun ]
would at one season of the year pass through the zenith, and the circumstances
of the day would resemble those between our own tropics ; while at another pe- 7
riod of the year, the sun would never rise for twenty-four hours. In fact, the !
polar circle would overlay the tropics, and the phenomena of each zone would
alternately prevail at different seasons.
The position of the axis of Mercury is not ascertained, but there is reason
to believe that, like that of Venus, it is inclined at a very large angle from the
perpendicular.
ORBITS AND TRANSITS OF MERCURY AND VENUS.
The motion of the planets Mercury and Venus, like that of the other bodies
of the system, is very nearly in the plane of the ecliptic. The orbit of Mer-
cury makes with the piane of the ecliptic an angle of 7°, and that of Venus
an angle of less than 4° ; the consequence of which is, that these planets are
never seen much above or below the ecliptic. The apparent diameter of the
sun is about half a degree ; consequently the greatest distance to which Venus
can depart from the ecliptic, will be less than eight diameters of the sun ; and
the greatest distance of the planet Mercury from it will be fourteen diameters
of the sun. The points at which these planets are seen upon the ecliptic are
called the NODES of the orbits ; and if at the time they pass near these nodes
they happen to be in inferior conjunction, they may be directly between the
eye of the observer on the earth and the sun's disk. In that case, they would
be seen as a black spot moving in the sun's disk. In order that this remarka-
ble phenomenon, which is called a transit, should take place, it is obviously
necessary that the distance of the disk of the planet from the place of the sun's
centre should be less than half the sun's apparent diameter ; that is, less than
fifteen minutes of a degree. If, then, the distance of either of the inferior
planets from the ecliptic at the time they are in inferior conjunction be less than
fifteen minutes, there must be a transit ; and the less that distance is, the greater
the extent of the sun's disk over which the planet will be seen moving. If the <
planet be exactly in its node at the time of the inferior conjunction, then it will )
/ be passing directly across the centre of the sun.
It will be evident that the part of the sun's disk in which the planet is seen j
i projected in a transit, will also depend on the position of the observer upon the
I earth. It may happen that, from some parts of the earth, the planet would not
| be projected upon the solar disk at all ; and, in short, at different parts of the
! earth, the line of its projected course will necessarily be different. These
effects will depend on the extent of the earth, and its distance from the sun
and the planet.
These phenomena have, therefore, supplied a very happy expedient by
which the distance of the sun from the earth may be exactly ascertained. The-
transit of Venus is especially applicable to this investigation, and has been
used with signal success. When the transit of the planet occurred in 1765,
) observers were sent by different European governments to the most favorable (
148
THE MINOR PLANETS.
parts of the earth for observing it : some to Otaheite, some to Cajaneburgh in
Swedish Lapland, and elsewhere. The result of their observations proved
that the distance of the sun from the earth is ninety-five millions of miles.
The intervals between the successive transits at each node are 8 and 113
years. The following are the series of transits to take place for the next four
centuries : —
1874.
1882.
2004.
2012.
.Dec. 9 4 8 A. M.
.Dec. 6 4 16 P. M.
.June 8 8 51 A. M.
.June 6 1 17 A. M.
2117 Dec. 11 2 57 A. M.
2125 Dec. 18 3 9 p. M.
2247 June 11 0 21 P. M.
2255 June 9 4 44 A . M.
The duration of a transit depends on the part of the sun's disk on which the
planet is projected. It may last so long as seven hours, if the planet pass
across the centre of the disk of the sun.
The last transit of Mercury took place on the 7th of November, 1835. It
was visible in this country but not in Europe, the sun having set there before
its commencement. The next transit will happen in the present year, 1845,
on the 8th of May : it will commence at nineteen minutes past four in the
afternoon, and will terminate at nine minutes before eleven at night, Green-
wich time. At New York it will begin and end four hours and fifty-six min-
utes earlier ; it will therefore begin at twenty-three minutes past eleven in the
forenoon, and will terminate at five minutes before six in the afternoon. The
entire transit will therefore be visible in the United States.
The transits of Mercury during the present century will be as follows : —
1845 May 8 7 54 P. M.
1848 Nov. 9 1 38 P. M.
1S61 Nov. 12 7 20 P. M.
< 1862 Nov. 5 6 44 A. M.
187S May 6 6 38 p. M.
1881 Nov. 8 0 40 A. M.
189 1 May 10 2 45 A. M.
1894 Nov. 10 6 17P.M.
The times here given are the mean times at Greenwich of the middle of the
( transit.
MOUNTAINS ON MERCURY AND VENUS.
It is supposed that mountains of extraordinary elevation prevail both in
Mercury and Venus. Those upon Venus are estimated to be about four times >
higher than upon the earth.
Sir William Herschel was unable to distinguish any permanent marks on
Mercury. Schroter, however, has been more successful. This astronomer
has discovered mountains on the surface of the planet, and has even succeeded
in ascertaining the height of some of them. One of them he found to rise to
an altitude of 5,600 feet, and another to the scarcely credible height of nearly
eleven miles, being nearly four times the height of JElna. or the peak of Ten-
eriffe, and more than double the height of the loftiest mountain on the earth.
It is remarkable that the highest mountains in Mercury are situated in the
southern hemisphere of the planet.
Schroter, to whose observations we are indebted for much of the knowledge
THE MINOR PLANETS.
149
that we possess of the planet Venus, showed the existence of several mount-
ains on that planet, the height of some of which he estimated to amount to >
twenty-two miles. There were three which he estimated : the first at nineteen
miles, or five times the height of Chimborazo ; the second at eleven and a half
miles ; and the third at ten and three quarters miles.
INFLUENCE OF THE SUN AT MERCURY AND VENUS.
The distance of the earth from the sun being greater than that of Mercury
in the ratio of 100 to 39, or nearly 5 to 2, the apparent diameter of the sun as
seen from Mercury will be greater than as seen from the earth in the same
ratio. If E represent the apparent magnitude of the sun as seen from the
earth, M will represent it as seen from Mercury.
The intensity of the sun's light being in the proportion of the area of its ap- t
parent disk, will be greater at Mercury than at the earth in the ratio of 25 to '
> 4, or nearly as 6 to 1. If the heat depended solely on the sun's rays, it would <
be in the same proportion greater than at the earth, but this may be modified (
by many causes in operation on the planet and in its atmosphere.
The distance of the earth from the sun is greater than that of Venus in the
ratio of 10 to 7 nearly, and consequently the apparent diameter of the sun as
seen from Venus will be greater in the same ratio than as seen from the earth.
If E represent the apparent magnitude of the sun as seen from the earth, V will
represent its apparent magnitude as seen from Venus.
The intensity of the sun's light at Venus will be about twice its intensity at
the earth.
TWILIGHT ON VENUS AND MERCURY.
The existence of an extensive twilight in these planets has been well ascer-
tained. By observing the concave edge of the crescent which corresponds to
the boundary of the illuminated and dark hemispheres of the planets, it is found
that tl e enlightened portion does not terminate suddenly, but there is a grad-
THE MINOR PLANETS.
151
ual fading away of the light into the darkness, produced by the band of atmo-
sphere illuminated by the sun which overhangs a part of the dark hemisphere,
and produces upon it the phenomena of twilight.
When we examine the dark hemisphere of the planet Venus, there is ob-
served upon occasions a faint reddish and grayish light, which is visible on
parts too distant from the illuminated hemisphere to be produced by the light
of the sun. It is supposed that these effects are indications of the play of some
atmospheric phenomena in this planet similar to the aurora borealis.
OF THE PLANET MARS.
Proceeding outward in the solar system from the sun, the first planet which
we find revolving beyond the earth and including the annual path of the earth
within its periodical course is the planet MARS. This body makes its revolu-
tion round the sun at a distance of nearly one hundred and fifty millions of
miles from that luminary, and completes its revolution in six hundred and eighty-
six days, or a little less than two years.
When the earth is between Mars and the sun, the distance of the planet
from the earth is less than fifty millions of miles, and as it is then seen in the
meridian at midnight, the circumstances are extremely favorable to telescopic
observation. Although its distance from the earth at that epoch is greater than
that of Venus when near inferior conjunction, yet as Venus in that position
has her dark hemisphere turned to the earth, while the enlightened hemisphere
of Mars is turned fully toward us, the observations made on the latter are more
satisfactory.
The diameter of Mars is about half that of our globe, and it has been found
by the observations of Arago that its polar diameter is little less than its equa-
torial, and that consequently, like the earth, it is an oblate spheroid.
As the planet includes the orbit of the earth within its periodical course
round the sun, the hemisphere which it presents to the sun is always very
nearly, although not exactly, presented to the earth ; the consequence of which
is that Mars is always seen with a full phase, or very slightly gibbous. It has
the appearance of a reddish star
DIURNAL ROTATION OF MARS.
On examining with a sufficiently powerful telescope the disk of Mars, it is
found to be characterized by features of lights and shadows, like those which
prevail on the other planets. These were observed at a very early period in
the progress of astronomical discovery. There are diagrams given in the first
volume of the "Philosophical Transactions," showing telescopic views of this
planet.
By attentively watching these marks, they have been observed to move in
parallel lines east and west — to disappear at one side of the disk, and to re-
appear after equal intervals at the other side. Hence it was discovered at a
very early epoch by CASSINI that Mars has a diurnal motion upon its axis in a
time very little different from that of the earth. Cassini's estimation of the
time of rotation of this planet was twenty-four hours and forty minutes. A
more accurate estimate proves it to be twenty-four hours thirty-nine minutes,
and twenty-one seconds. The axis on which it turns, and which is perpen-
dicular to the lines in which the marks on the disk move, is at an angle of
about thirty degrees from the perpendicular to its orbit. Wher it is remem-
bered that the earth's axis is inclined at an angle of twenty-three and a half
degrees, and that it is this inclination which produces the succession of sea-
152
THE MINOR PLANETS.
sons, and which divides the earth into zortes and climates, it will be easily in-
ferred that the same phenomena prevails in Mars — the limits of the seasons
being little more extreme than those which prevail in the earth.
ATMOSPHERE OF MARS.
The existence of an atmosphere upon Mars is proved by the gradual dimi-
nution which the light of a star suffers as his disk approaches it, and by the
variable character of the lights and shadows apparent upon the disk. The
ruddy appearance of the planet has been explained by the supposition of an
atmosphere of great density around it ; but more accurate telescopic observa-
tions have led Herschel and others rather to incline to the opinion that this
redness must be ascribed to a peculiar color prevailing on the surface of the
planet, like that of the red sandstone districts upon the earth. A slight appear-
ance of belts has always been noticed on this planet, which affords another
indication of an atmosphere, as will be more clearly understood when the belts
of Jupiter and Saturn shall be explained.
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF MARS.
Telescopic inquiry has been directed to determine the physical condition of
this planet, and with a degree of success greater perhaps than that which has
attended similar inquiries respecting any other body in the solar system, except
the sun and moon. Sir William Herschel, and after him his son, Sir John
Herschel, ascertained the form and position of a variety of the features of light
and color on the disk ; but it has been reserved for the Prussian astronomers,
BEER and MADLER, to carry this inquiry to a much greater degree of detailed
accuracy.
Sir John Herschel made a series of observations on Mars within the last
fourteen years, and supplied a telescopic drawing of one hemisphere of the
planet. We annex a figure exhibiting this sketch.
He stated that the outlines here exhibited were found to be permanent and
unvariable, and must therefore be regarded as geographical and not atmospheric
features. It is true that they were not always visible, being sometimes obscured,
or varied by what seems to be clouds ; but when visible they were always the
same. Some portions appeared of a rsddish color, while others had a greenish
tint. He supposes the red portions to be land whose geological character im-
THE MINOR PLANETS.
parts to them that peculiar color. The greenish portions he inferred to be
seas.
Among the features apparent on this planet, what attracted most attention
are certain white spots seen around the polar regions. These were among the
very first permanent marks discovered on the planet, and are represented even
in the first rude drawing given of its telescopic appearances in the proceedings
of the Royal Society. In the observations of Herschel — both father and son — •
they have, however, been more rigorously examined and described ; and still
more so in the investigations of Beer and Madler.
It has been ascertained from the changes they undergo that they must be
produced by deposites of snow in the polar regions. Herschel observed that
when the pole had been turned from the sun during the winter, and first re-
appeared in the spring of the planet, the whiteness was most extensive and
vivid ; and that when the same pole was exposed to the influence of the sun
during the summer, which is double the length of the summer upon the earth,
this whiteness gradually diminished, and always disappeared. Such indica-
tions cannot be mistaken, and admit of no other explanations save what I have
now adverted to.
The elaborate observations of Beer and Madler have supplied various tele-
scopic views of this planet. In their work upon this subject they have pub-
lished forty views of hemispheres made by planes passing nearly through the
poles, which is the only view presented to the observer by the planet. Hav-
ing, by combining together many observations, made as it were a survey of
the entire surface of the globe of Mars, they have given two views, one of its
northern and the other pf its southern hemisphere.
We have obtained copies of these views, and have affixed them here.
Two of the views of this planet, bounded by a circle passing nearly through
its poles, are annexed. The views of the hemispheres are given on page 12.
HAS MARS A SATELLITE ?
Analogy naturally suggests the probability that the planet Mars might have
a moon. These attendants appear to be supplied to the planets in augmented
numbers as they recede from the sun ; and if this analogy were complete, it
would justify the inference that Mars must at least have one, being more re- i
mote from the sun than the earth, which is supplied with a satellite. No \
< moon has ever been discovered in connexion with Mars. It has, however, *
been contended that we are not therefore to conclude that the planet is desti- <
tute of such an appendage ; for as all secondary planets are much less than )
their primaries, and as Mars is by far the smallest of the superioi planets, its <
satellite, if such existed, must be extremely small. The second satellite of |
Jupiter is only the forty-third part of the diameter of the planet ; and a satellite ^
which would only be the forty-third part of the diameter of Mars, would be S
under one hundred miles in diameter. Such an object could scarcely be dis- (
^^ ^^•^^>-V^^~^V^^^N.^^^^>^~^^X.V^-V^^^^X^^V^V^^^>^VXX>^>W. ^fj
THE MINOR PLANETS.
155
covered, even by powerful telescopes, especially if it did not recede far from
the disk of the planet.
APPEARANCE OF THE SUN AT MARS.
M
The distance of Mars from the sun being greater than that of the earth in
the proportion of three to two, it follows that the apparent magnitude of the sun
to the inhabitants of Mars will be less than to the inhabitants of the earth in
the same proportion. In the annexed diagram, if E represents the appearance
of the sun to the earth, M will represent its appearance at Mars.
The light which it affords will be in the same proportion as its apparent
magnitude ; and as the superficial magnitude of the disk will be about half
that which it presents to the earth, it follows that the intensity of the sun's
light at Mars will be less in the same proportion. But, for the reasons which
have been elsewhere stated, no safe inference can be made respecting the
effect of the sun on the temperature of the planets.
The close analogy in which this planet stands to the earth will be apparent (
156
THE MINOR PLANETS.
to those who have considered the facts and phenomena now described. It is
a globe whose diurnal motion is such as to give it days of the same length ;
its seasons succeeding each other in the same manner, and are limited by the
same extremes of temperature. Its latitudes are diversified by the same torrid,
temperate, and frigid zones, and the same varieties of climate. Its surface is
characterized by a like distribution of land and water ; and, like the earth, it
has its continents, islands, and seas. It is invested with an atmosphere, sup-
plying doubtless all the interesting objects and advantages which result from
our own.
WEATHER ALMANACS
Merits of Weather Almanacs. — Excitability of the London Public. — Frighi troiaced by Biela's
Comet. — London Water Panic. — London Air Panic. — London Bread Panic. — Rage for Weather
Almanacs — Patrick Murphy's Pretensions. — Examination of the Predictions of the Weather Al-
manac.— Their Absurdity. — Comparison of the Predictions with the Event — Morrison's Weather
Almanac — Charlatanism of these Publications. — Great Frost of 1838 in London. — Other Visita
tiocs of Cold.
159
WEATHER ALMANACS.
NOTE. — The subject of weather almanacs having occasionally been introduced in an abridged
fo.-m in my lectures, I have thoueht it best to give it here in the form in which I originally presented
•; in London, when a rage for this sort of scientific charlatanism prevailed in an extraordinary de-
gree. The following appeared in the spring of if 38.
IF the weather almanacs presented no other claims to our attention than
those which rest upon their intrinsic importance, they would assuredly never
have been noticed by us. We should as soon think of discussing their merits
among our scientific discourses, as of reviewing the performances of the
penny theatres, or the buffoonery of the booths at Bartholomew fair. When,
however, we are told that the circulation of some of these publications is
reckoned by hundreds of thousands, and that at a price which would im-
pose a narrow limit on the sale on any ordinary brochure of equal bulk —
and when we know, as we do, that this enormous circulation is not either
exclusively or principally confined to the lower and less-informed clas-
ses, but extends to those who are, or ought to be, the best educated and most
enlightened — we feel that, however much beneath scientific criticism such
productions may be, they have acquired some claims to attention from the suc-
cess with which they have wrought upon the credulity of the " most thinking
people" in the world.
It is astonishing, in this age of the diffusion of knowledge, how susceptible
the public mind is of excitement on any topic, the principles of which do not
lie absolutely on the surface of the most ordinary course of elementary educa-
tion. It was only in the year 1832 that a general alarm spread throughout
France, lest Biela's comet, in its progress through the solar system, should
strike the earth ; and the authorities in that country, with a view to tranquillize
the public, induced M. Arago, the astronomer royal, to publish an essay on
comets, written in a familiar and intelligible style, to show the impossibility
of such an event.
Several panics in England, connected with physical questions, have oc-
curred within our memory. There prevailed in London a " water panic," during
160
WEATHER ALMANACS.
•which the public was persuaded that the water supplied to the metropolis was
destructive to health and life. While this lasted, the papers teemed with an-
nouncements of patent filtering machines ; solar-microscope makers displayed
to the terrified Londoners troops of thousand-legged animals disporting in their
daily beverage ; publishers were busy with popular treatises on entomology ;
and tl-fi public; was seized with a general hydrophobia. It was in vain that
Bra? df analyzed the water at the Royal Institute, and Faraday attempted to
rea«- r Londor into its senses. Knowledge ceased to be power ; philosophy
lost u authoilty. Time was, however, more efficacious than science ; and the
parcrysms of the disease having passed through their appointed phases, the
peop!^ WC:P convalescent. There was at another time a panic against atmo-
spV.^'tc air> cuiing which the inhabitants of the great metropolis (in a literal
sei «-B) scarcely dared to breathe. The combustion of coal was denounced as
tl."} ^reat erl in this case. Calculations were circulated of the number of
cub'.c feet if sulphurous gas taken into the lungs of each adult inhabitant per
annum ; ',h j pioperties of carbonic acid were discussed behind counters ; patent
furnacec v^srs plentifully invented and advertised for sale ; and parliament was
urged to pass a bill for the purification of the atmosphere, and to compel all
who used files to consume their own smoke.
A few years ago, the people of London were seized with a persuasion that
bakers used a poisonous substance to bleach the necessary article of food
which they manufactured, and forthwith a bread panic arose. A joint-stock-
digestive-brown-bread company was immediately formed. " Fancy baker," a
title previously assumed as a recommendation to their customers' favor, was
painted over ; brown loaves usurped the place of French rolls ; and the lacquey,
whose master adhered to his old taste in defiance of poison, as he sought for
white loaves, hummed — •
" Tell me where is fancy bread."
In 1838, the public turned its attention to meteorology, and the causes
which govern the changes of weather was the all-absorbing topic. Some of
the intelligent conductors of the daily and weekly press seriously descanted
on the great advantages which would accrue to the farmer, the gardener, the
manufacturer, the mariner, and others, from the certain prediction of the weather,
and looked forward, evidently not without hope, to an early period when, by a
new principle of science discovered by a Mr. Murphy, and he said, " probably
known only to himself" —
" Careful observers may foretell the hour,
By sure prognostics, when to dread a shower."
Among the gifted individuals to whom it has been vouchsafed to see the
shadows which coming events cast before them, and who have conferred on
the public the inestimable benefit of their knowledge, the most conspicuous was
a gentleman who took the appellation and appendages of P. Murphy, Esquire,
M. N. S. What praenomen is indicated by P., we are not certainly informed,
but we believe it to be that of the patron saint of the Emerald isle, of which
this weather-seer is said to be a native. Indeed, there is abundant proof of his
country, in the prevalence throughout his writings of that peculiar species of
modesty which is generally considered characteristic of the " Land of Song."
We have, however, looked in vain among the many combinations of letters
expressing the various learned societies in this and other countries for the sig-
nification of M. N. S. We have found societies designated by every letter in
WEATHER ALMANACS.
161
the alphabet, from the Astronomical to the Zoological, the letter N alone ex-
cepted.
After all, the name of Patrick Murphy may be unwarrantably assumed.
Francis Moore, physician, has long been so ; and a table, miscalled Herschel's
weather-table, obtained confidence from its unauthorized adoption of the name
of that eminent astronomer. Perhaps the weather almanac has as little rela-
tion to the veritable Patrick Murphy as Herschel's weather-table had to the
great telescopic observer ; and as it was beneath the dignity of Sir William
even to disavow such trash as the weather-table, so Sir Patrick may possibly
rely on the dignity of his station, and his reputation among the numerous mem-
bers of the N Society, as a sufficient refutation of this imposture.
Until the appearance of the weather almanac, the pretenders to prediction
confined their forebodings to the general character of the weather at particular
epochs. In the weather almanac there was, however, a distinct prediction for
every successive day of the year. Every possible variety of weather was re-
duced under one or other of three denominations — -fair, rain, and changeable ;
one or other of these words being affixed to each day of the year. For some
days there was added one or other of the words frost, wind, storm, or thunder.
A precaution was taken in the preface to explain the meaning in which these
several terms are intended to be received.
Fair, means a day in which drought is expected to predominate.
Rain, a day in which rain is expected to predominate.
Changeable, a day in which it is uncertain whether drought or rain will pre-
dominate.
To be enabled fairly to compare the predictions with the facts, it is necessary
that these explanations of the terms fair, rain, and changeable, be clearly un-
derstood.
Does rain, we would ask, include snow, hail, and sleet 1 We must presume
that it does, since these vicissitudes are not otherwise expressed in the al-
manac.
Does drought signify anything more than the absence of rain, snow, or sleet ?
We shall presume that it does, because otherwise this very common state of
the weather would have no designation in the nomenclature of the weather
almanac, and we should have a prediction of a severe frost in January, without
any prediction of the thaw which follows it.
The term " predominate," used in these explanations, we take to refer to
duration. Thus, if in twenty-fours, rain fall for less than twelve hours, the
day is to be designated fair, since drought predominates ; and if rain fall for
more than twelve hours, then the day is to be designated rain, since rain pre-
dominates.
The causes which govern the phenomena of weather being physical agen-
cies independent of the will or interference of any being save of Him " who
rules the storm," are as fixed and as certain in their operation, and as regular
in the production of their effects, as those which maintain and regulate the
motions of the solar system. The moment of the rising or setting of the sun
on any given day of the ensuing year is therefore, in the nature of things, not
more certain than the atmospheric phenomena which will take place on that
day. The doubt and uncertainty which attend these events belong altogether
to our anticipations of them, and not to the things themselves. If our knowl-
edge of meteorology were as advanced as our knowledge of astronomy, we
should be in a condition to declare the time, duration, and intensity, of every
shower which shall fall during the ensuing year, with as much certainty and
precision as we are able to foretell the rising, setting, and southing, of the sun
and moon, or the rise and fall of the tides of the ocean. When it is said, there-
11
fore, that drought or rain is expected to predominate, the uncertainty implied by
the term expected must be understood to belong to the knowledge, or rather
ignorance, of him who makes the prediction, and not to the event, which, as
we have shown, is necessary, and not contingent.
But the most absurd of these explanations is that of the word changeable,
which is here used in a most novel sense. Changeable weather, in the ordi-
nary use of the word, is applied to weather which changes frequently and sud-
denly at short intervals, from fair and clear to cloudy and wet. But the weather-
almanac sense of this term is, weather in which it is uncertain whether drought
or rain will predominate. Now, as we have already shown that no uncertainty
can attend the weather itself, but that the uncertainty belongs only to the mind of
the author of the weather almanac, it will be necessary to remember that change-
cable weather is weather about which the said author confesses that he has no
foreknowledge ; thus, though for a week the face of the heaArens continue clear
and cloudless, the temperature of the air mild and uniform, and the atmosphere
calm and still, yet the weather during such week might be changeable, accord-
ing to the weather almanac, and its author would claim the credit of a predic-
tion fulfilled. In fact, every day in the year to which he has annexed the
word changeable, must fulfil his prediction, whatever be the state of the
weather ; since, happen what will, no one can doubt the uncertainty of the
author's own mind as to the event, when that uncertainty is itself the essence
of his prediction.
The author states, that by wind he means a gale, excluding' from this term (
light winds ; also, that by storm he means a more violent gale ; and that tJiun-
der and storm are to be considered to a certain extent synonymous, it being not
always possible to decide in which way these phenomena will develop them-
selves.
To these explanations we have nothing to object, and have only to say, that
it were better for the author's reputation for honesty or sanity, if he had car-
ried his indecision to a much greater extent. We are told in the preface, that —
" When it is taken into account that, as connected with the principles and
laws of movement, of temperature, &c., in the sun and planets — a totally new
class of proofs — never, perhaps, so much as supposed to exist by the immortal
Newton, nor by any other, is proposed ly the present work ; and which, if found,
to a certain extent, correct, will have the effect of placing these departments
of science a century in advance ; it will be allowed that, independent of its
utility in other respects, this should be sufficient to secure it a favorable recep-
tion from an enlightened public.
" In regard to the principles themselves on which the calculations of the
weather are founded, it will be sufficient to say that, as, according to any prin-
ciples hitherto known or recognised, calculations of the kind could not be
mad;,, the circumstances necessarily presupposes the discovery of others ; and
as snowing the connexion of the latter with, it may be said every department
of the physical sciences, and, consequently, with the interests of every class
of society — a scientific notice is subjoined by the editor, in order that such of
the patrons of the almanac as may feel disposed to obtain information on the
subject, may have the opportunity to consult his views."
( )n reading this, we turned with strong feelings of curiosity to the scientific
, in the hope of being informed of the " totally new class of proofs, never
•>sod to exist by the immortal Newton, nor by any other." But alas! so
imperfect was our intellectual vision, that we looked in vain, and we forced our-
selves with those others who, in common with "the immortal Newton," not only
never supposed such proofs to exist, but cannot persuade ourselves even now
of their existence. In truth, were it not for the high scientific reputation of
WEATHER ALMANACS. 163
Mr. Murphy, and the respect we entertain for the discrimination of the mem-
bers of the N society, who elected him into their body, we would pro-
nounce the said scientific notice to be as sheer and unmitigated nonsense as it
has ever been our fortune to encounter. As matters stand, however, we must
ascribe all to the feebleness of our own powers compared to those of Mr. Murphy.
Having thus candidly acknowledged our inability to comprehend the author's
theory of meteoric action, the sublimity of which we shall not be so presump-
tuous as to doubt, much less to dispute, we must be content with the more
humble office of comparing the predictions of the Weather Almanac with the
actual phenomena, so far as time has converted the future into the past.
We have the less hesitation in adopting this test of the validity of the author's
principles, as it is one which he has himself courted.
"The event in reference to these predictions being thus admitted to be in
some decree contingent, it may be asked — If certainty cannot be attached to
the prediction, of what use can it be ? To this we answer, that the exceptions
in reference to the predictions as marked in the tables, will, it is anticipated,
be found to bear but a small proportion to the remainder; and in our turn we
shall demand, if, in nine cases out of ten, the event be found to correspond
» with the prediction, does it follow, because one of the anticipated effects, as
set down in the table, does not take place, that the public is to remain ignorant
of the remaining nine ? For if an objection such as this were valid, it were
the same to say, because the quadrature of the circle cannot be found, that the
practical parts of mathematics should be abandoned : such exceptions, as in
other cases, serve but the more fully to prove the rule, as to the correctness
of the principles of calculation on which the predictions in the tables are
founded."
Undoubtedly nothing could be more unreasonable or unphilosephical ; nay,
we will go further, and will admit that the author must be classed among the great
lights of the age, if his predictions be fulfilled even in a much smaller ratio
than that which he proposes. Nothing can be more true than the observation
with which he concludes his preface : —
" It may not, however, be amiss to add, in regard to these principles of cal-
culation, that, though by chance the state of the weather at any particular time
might possibly be predicted, that it is quite different as refers to a number of
facts : as to attempt to follow the sinuosities of the weather (as in the present
almanac) from fair to rain and from rain to fair, even for seven days consecu-
tirply, without the aid of correct principles, were about the same as to attempt
a discourse in an unknown tongue ; the thing never having been done before,
and for a sufficiently simple reason, because it was utterly impossible."
Let us see whether the author has "followed the sinuosities of the weather"
even for three days successively.
We have before us, on the one hand, the predictions of the Weather Alma-
nac for the first forty-eight days of the present year, and on the other, the Me-
teorological Journal, kept by order of the council of the Royal Society during
that time. We shall resolve these forty-eight days into three classes: Is'.,
Those on which the weather fulfilled the prediction ; 2d, Those on which the
weather did not fulfil the prediction; and, 3d, Those for which no prediction
was made, which, as we have already shown, is the case of all those days to
which changeable is annexed.
In deciding whether the prediction has been fulfilled or not, we have been
careful to follow those explanations of his terms which the author has very
properly given in his preface ; and when the character of the day, as recorded
in the journal of the Royal Society, has been doubtful, as compared with the
prediction, we have given the author the benefit of it : —
164 WEATHER ALMANACS.
) 164
Prediction fulfilled— Jan. 7, 8 12, 13, 19, 20, 26, 27, 28 ; Feb. 1, 6, 9, 10,
13. Number of days, 14.
Prediction not fulfilled— Jan. 1, 2, 3, 9, 10, 11, 15, 16, 17, 18, 24, 25, 30,
31 ; Feb. 3, 8, 12, 14, 16, 17. Number of days, 20.
No prediction made— Jan. 4, 5, 6, 14, 21, 22, 23, 29; Feb. 2, 4, 5, 7, 11,
15. Number of days, 14.
? Thus it appears that, of forty-eight days, the weather corresponded with the
$ prediction on fourteen ; it did not correspond with it on twenty ; and on the
^ fourteen remaining days no prediction was made.
) Now, we will ask, if any person of common observation acquainted with the
f climate of the country, were to annex to each of the first forty-eight succes-
> sive days of the year at hazard, the characters of weather generally found to
^ prevail at that season, whether he would not, according to all probability, be
> right in a greater number of cases than fourteen in forty-eight, that is, one case
' in three and a half?
The predictions of the Weather Almanac, then, fail in seventeen cases
) out of twenty-four! yet this is the production which the public bought, at a
> high price, by the hundred thousand ! This is the production for which the
/ demand was so urgent, and for which the public impatience was so irrepressi-
) ble, that the shop of the bookseller, like those of bakers in a famine, was
? obliged to be protected by the police, so violent was the demand of the thou-
) sands who flocked to obtain it !
J By reference to the above table it will be seen, that there is no case in which
i the predictions have been fulfilled, even for three successive days, except from
' the 26th to the 28th of January inclusive. Even in that case, the prediction
) for the 26th agrees but imperfectly with the event; the prediction being fair,
without mention of wind or frost, while the Meteorological Journal says over-
cast ; brisk wind the whole day ; sharp frost. Much of the attention this pub-
lication received has been ascribed to the supposed fulfilment of the pre-
diction for the 20th of January, which is marked in the Weather Almanac as
the lowest winter temperature. This was a fortuitous coincidence, such as
) happens frequently in other cases, as in the fulfilment of dreams, &c. We
, shall not insist here on the fact, that the 20th was not the day of the greatest
) cold by the diary of the Royal Society, since the thermometer fell a little lower
I on the 16th, because we think it really unimportant.*
; But it may be said, that, although the prediction has failed as to the exact
j time at which the several changes took place, yet, in the main, the changes
> predicted did take place, and that the prediction " followed the sinuosities of
I the weather."
Let us, then, see how far the predictions in the Weather Almanac will bear
) a comparison with the actual succession of changes.
i
' Actual succession of changes. Succession of changes predicted.
Number of days. Number of days.
6 Mild and warm. 3 Frost.
14 Frost. 3 Changeable.
3 Thaw. 7 Frost.
4 Frost. 1 Changeable.
4 Thaw. 6 Frost.
6 Frost. 3 Changeable.
3 Thaw. 2 Rain.
• The thermometer at the Horticultural Society is said to have been four degrees below zero on (
tbe night of the 19th and 20th. This is BO much at variance with the journal of the Koy:il fck-ri. iv ;
that \V3 doubt the accuracy of the observation.
WEATHER ALMANACS.
165
8 Frost.
48
Frost.
Changeable.
Rain.
Frost.
Changeable.
Rain.
2 Changeable.
1
1
2
1
1
1
1
1
1
1
1
48
Fair.
Changeable.
Rain.
Fair.
Changeable.
Rain and wind.
Fair.
Rain and wind.
Changeable.
Rain.
Fair and frost.
We shall leave it to the skill of our readers to discover where the correspond-
ence lies between " the sinuosities of the weather," and the sinuosities of Mr.
Murphy's predictions. Dismissing this very absurd publication, to which we
have given more space than it deserves, we shall merely add, that it is not the
only production of the kind which public credulity fostered into life. Be-
sides the eternal Francis Moore, physician, we had also the Meteorological
Almanac, and Farmers' and Shipmasters' Guide, containing the general charac-
ter of the weather all through the year 1838, by Lieutenant Morrison, R.N.,
Member of the London Meteorological Society, and numerous others.
Without further discussing the prognostications of such persons, or compar-
ing them with facts, we shall merely ask those who appear to afford them so
i easy faith, to consider the nature of the physical questions pretended to be
[ solved, and the qualifications of those who profess to have solved them. The
investigation of the causes which affect the atmosphere and produce the vicis-
situdes of temperature and of drought, is a problem of transcendent difficulty,
to the solution of which even the most extensive powers of modern science are
inadequate. It is a problem to which, hitherto, scarcely an approximation has
been made, even by the most eminent natural philosophers ; and, as it is one of
the details of which the public in general cannot be expected to understand,
they can only regulate the confidence which they will place in its pretended
solutions by the reputation and authority of those who propound them.
Who, then, it may be asked, are the persons that put forth those predictions ;
and on what grounds do they ask the faith of the public ? Among these prog-
nosticators, is any name found holding a respectable rank in the community of
science ? What have the labors and researches of these persons contributed
to the actual advancement of our knowledge of nature ? What are the works
on which their reputations are founded ? Do these weather-prophets possess
any of the recognised qualifications, founded on education and previous attain-
ments' which would fit them for encountering such a problem ? What learned
societies in Europe have these pretenders enriched by their labors ? Where
are the transactions in which their investigations and discoveries have appeared I
These questions would be answered by a mere enumeration of their names —
names utterly unknown in philosophy or letters. It would be answered that among
them there is found not one individual whose presence would be tolerated in
f — —
< 166 WEATHER ALMANACS.
any scientific reunion in Europe. Such are the class of persons to whom the
public, in the contemptuous silence of the great leaders and guides of science
in every part of the world, surrendered their faith.
As the subject of this article has given us occasion to notice the late visita-
tion of cold, it may be not uninteresting to compare the particulars of that part
of the season with similar events in former years.
The weather in London, from last Christmas until the seventh of January,
was remarkably fine and mild. During the first four days of January, the ther-
mometer was never lower than 40 degrees, and ranged between that and 50 de-
grees. On the 6th it fell to 32 degrees, between which and 38 degrees it ranged
on that day. On the 7th the severe frost commenced, the thermometer, how-
ever, being rather higher on that than on the preceding day. But on the fol-
lowing day (the 8th) the frost became rigorous, the thermometer falling more
than four degrees below the freezing point. The temperature continued to fall
until the 16th, when it attained the minimum — the thermometer then having
descended to 11 -4 degrees, which is twenty degrees and a half below the freez-
ing point. A very slight increase of temperature succeeded for the next three
days, when, on the 20th, the temperature again fell to 11^ degrees of the ther-
mometer. On that day the thermometer ranged between that temperature and
21 degrees (eleven degrees below the freezing point). This was the day of
greatest average cold, though, strictly speaking, it was not the day on which
the temperature was lowest. On the 22d and 23d, the thermometer rose to
above 40 degrees, and a rapid thaw ensued ; which, however, was succeeded
by a return of frost — the thermometer again falling seven or eight degrees be-
low the freezing point. On the 29th commenced a rapid thaw, the thermome-
ter rising to 44 degrees on the 30th. Frost succeeded this on the 1st of Feb-
ruary, which continued until the 6th, when it was succeeded by a thaw, which
continued through the 7th, 8th, and 9th. On the ] Oth the frost recommenced,
and has continued to the moment of writing these observations (the 17th).
Thus between the 7th of January and the 17th of February, the lowest point
to which the temperature fell was 111 degrees, which it attained twice — name-
ly, on the 16th and 20th. The average of the lowest daily temperature
throughout this periods was 25£ ; the average of the highest daily temperature
was 36-J.
Throughout this frost there was so little snow that the face of the ground was
not covered and protected, and vegetables were, consequently, exposed to a
temperature so rigorous as to occasion extensive destruction of the products of
the garden.
The last severe frost with which this can be compared occurred in January,
1826. On the 8th of that month the thermometer fell one degree below the
freezing point, and on the 16th it stood at 17 degrees at 9 in the morning — be-
ing fifteen degrees below the freezing point, the lowest temperature recorded
since that day to the present time. The frost terminated on the 18th, the ther-
mometer then rising to 36 degrees.
This frost of 1826 can only be compared to the recent cold in the extreme
of its temperature, its duration having been only ten days.
A severe frost took place in January, 1814, which continued throughout that
month, and did not terminate until the 6th of February. The lowest tempera-
ture recorded during this frost is 17 degrees, which was the temperature at 8
in the morning on the ] Oth. The greatest height of the thermometer through-
out the month of January was 40 degrees, and the mean temperature of the
month was 28-08. This frost, therefore, in its duration, was less than the late
f frost ; the lowest and mean temperatures were also lower in the present year
than in 1814
WEATHER ALMANACS. 167
In January, 1795, there occurred a frost which, for rigor and continuance,
exceeded the present. The mean temperature during that month was about 2G
degrees, and on the 25th of the month the thermometer stood at 7 degrees —
being 25 degrees below the freezing point. The mean temperature during the
frost was about the same as during the present, but the extreme temperature
was four degrees lower. Since 1795 till the present time — a period of forty-
two years — there has been no cold of intensity and duration equal to the pres-
ent.
Since the preceding observations were sent to press, we have received a
journal of the state of the weather during the last month in Paris, the particu-
lars of which may not be uninteresting to compare with the corresponding phe-
nomena in London. As in London, the first days of the month were mild and
fair, the thermometer ranging from the first to the sixth between 33^ degrees
and 29 degrees. On the seventh, as in London, the frost commenced, and the
thermometer gradually fell until the fourteenth, on which day the maximum
temperature was 13 degrees, and the minimum 4 degrees.
The thermometer rose on the fifteenth, but afterward gradually fell until the
twentieth, when it attained the lowest temperature of the month. On that day
the highest temperature was 21 degrees below the freezing point, and the low-
est was 34 degrees below it.
The mean maximum temperature from the first to the tenth was 33^ degrees,
and the mean minimum was 27 degrees.
The mean maximum temperature from the eleventh to the twentieth was 19
degrees, and the mean minimum temperature was 8 degrees.
The mean maximum temperature from the twenty-first to the thirty-first was
35 degrees, and the mean minimum temperature was 21 degrees.
The mean maximum temperature throughout the month was 35 degrees, and
the mean minimum temperature was 18 degrees.
The absolute mean temperature of the month was a little under 24 degrees.
The fourth and fifth of the month were attended with a thick fog, followed
by a clouded sky on the sixth and seventh. Between the seventh and twelfth
there occurred a fall of snow, followed by almost continuous fair weather
till the twenty-fifth. The last six days of the month were cloudy.
From a comparison of these particulars with those of the weather in London,
it will be perceived that the day of the greatest cold was the twentieth in both
places, but that the minimum temperature was much lower in Paris. In London
the thermometer fell on the twentieth 20 degrees below the freezing point, but
| in Paris it fell on the same day 34 degrees below it. In London, the highest
< temperature on the twentieth was 1 1 degrees below the freezing point ; in Paris
£ the highest temperature on the same day was 31 degrees below it. In London
( the mean temperature of the month was 1 degree above the freezing point ; in
^ Paris it was 8 degrees below it.
It will be perceived that the severity of cold in Paris was in every point of
view greater than that in London.
It is remarkable, also, that the frost not only commenced on the same day in
Paris as in London, but the cold varied in very nearly the same manner, though
in different degrees. The increase of temperature perceptible in London on
the sixteenth, commenced in Paris on the fifteenth, and was of the same dura-
tion. On the twenty-second and twenty-third in London, the thermometer
) rose to above 40 degrees ; and on the same day in Paris it likewise rose to
j above 40 degrees. This increase of temperature was in like manner followed
; by a return of frost, which continued till the twenty-ninth, when the thermom-
eter rose to 44 degrees in both places.
1G8
WEATHER ALMANACS.
The subject of the weather, and the influences which are supposed to
affect it, will be noticed on another occasion, when I shall examine in all the
necessary detail the question of the supposed influence exerted by the
phases of the moon upon tb.3 changes of the weather.
• *"X_-^*-*
II ALLEY'S COMET.
Predictions of Science. — Structure of tho Solar System. — Motion of Comets. — How to identify them. —
Intervals of their Appearance. — Halley's Comet. — Its History. — Newton's Conjectures. — S.-<t.-:icity
of Voltaire. — Halley's Researches. — Foretells the Reappearance of the Comet in 1759. — Principle of
Gravitation applied to its Motion by Clairaut. — Researches of that Mathematician. — Anecdotes of
Lalunde and Madame Lepaute. — Minute and circumstantial Krediction of the Reappearance of
Halley's Comet.— Discovery of the Planet Herschel anticipated by Clairaut. — Reappearance of
the Comet at the predicted Time. — Second Prediction of its Return in 1830. — Prediction fulfill-
ed.— Observations on its Appearance in 1835.
HALLEY'S COMET.
171
HALLEY'S COMET.
FOR the civil and political historian the past alone has existence — the pres-
ent he rarely apprehends, the future never. To the historian of science it is
permitted, however, to penetrate the depths of past and future with equal clear-
ness and certainty ; facts to come are to him as present, and not unfrequently
more assured than facts which are passed. Although this clear perception of
causes and consequences characterizes the whole domain of physical science,
and clothes the natural philosopher with powers denied to the political and
moral inquirer, yet foreknowledge is eminently the privilege of the astronomer.
Nature has raised the curtain of futurity, and displayed before him the succes-
sion of her decrees, so far as they effect the physical universe, for countless
ages to come ; and' the revelations of which she has made him the instrument,
are supported and verified by a never-ceasing train of predictions fulfilled. He
" shows us the things which will be hereafter," not obscurely shadowed out in
figures and i-n parables, as must necessarily be the case with other revelations, but
attended with the most minute precision of time, place, and circumstance. He
converts the hours as they roll into an ever-present miracle, in attestation
of those laws which his Creator through him has unfolded ; the sun cannot
rise — the moon cannot wane — a star cannot twinkle in the firmament, without
bearing witness to the truth of his prophetic records. It has pleased the
" Lord and Governor" of the world, in his inscrutable wisdom, to baffle our
inquiries into the nature and proximate cause of that wonderful faculty of intel-
lect— that image of his own essence which he has conferred upon us ; nay,
the springs and wheelwork of animal and vegetable vitality are concealed from
our view by an impenetrable veil, and the pride of philosophy is humbled by
the spectacle of the physiologist bending in fruitless ardor over the dissection
NOTE.— A portion of the matter which forms my lectures on Comets, was formerly contributed
by me, on various occasions, to the Edinburgh Review, and other leading periodicals in England ; (
and a part was included among the additions to the late edition of Arago's Lectures, edited by me J
in America j
of the human brain, and peering in equally unproductive inquiry over the gam-
bols of an animalcule. But how nobly is the darkness which envelopes meta-
physical inquiries compensated by the flood of light which is shed upon the
physical creation! There all is harmony, and order, and majesty, and beauty.
From the chaos of social and political phenomena exhibited in human records — (
phenomena unconnected to our imperfect vision by any discoverable law, a war ;
of passions and prejudices, governed by no apparent purpose, tending to no ap- (
parent end, and setting all intelligible order at defiance — how soothing and yet j
how elevating it is to turn to the splendid spectacle which offers itself to the (
habitual contemplation of the astronomer ! How favorable to the development
of all the best and highest feelings of the soul are such objects ! The only
passion they inspire being the love of truth, and the chiefest pleasure of their
votaries arising from excursions through the imposing scenery of the universe —
scenery on a scale of grandeur and magnificence, compared with which whatever
we are accustomed to call sublimity on our planet, dwindles into ridiculous insig-
nificancy. Most justly has it been said, that nature has implanted in our bosoms
a craving after the discovery of truth, and assuredly that glorious instinct is
never more irresistibly awakened then when our notice is directed to what is
going on in the heavens. " Quoniam eadem Natura cupiditatem ingenuit homi-
nibus veri inveniendi, quod facillime apparet, cum vacui curis, etiam quid in }
cffilo fiat, scire avemus ; his initiis indued omnia vera diligimus ; id est, fidelia, <.
simplicia, constantia ; turn vana, falsa, fallentia odimus."*
Among the multitude of appearances which succeed each other in their ap- •,
pointed order, and of the times and manner of which the perfect knowledge ^
of the astronomer enables him to advertise us, there are some which mor; I
powerfully seize upon the popular mind, as well by reason of their infrequenc/ )
and the extraordinary circumstances which attend them, as by the imaginary >
consequences with which ignorance and superstition have, in times past and. '
present, invested them. Among these, Solar Eclipses had a prominent place ; ,
but a still more interesting position must be assigned to Comets.
It is well known that the solar system, of which our planet forms a part, con- ^
sists of a number of smaller bodies revolving in paths, which are very nearly )
circular, round the great mass of the sun placed in the centre. Thes3 paths, >
or orbits, are very nearly in the same plane ; that is to say, if the earth, for /
example, be conceived to be moving on a flat surface, extended as well beyond (
its orbit as within it, then the other planets never depart much above or below >
this plane. A spectator placed upon the earth keeps within his view each of <*
the other planets of the system throughout nearly the whole of its course. In-
deed, there is no part of the orbit of any planet in which, at some time or other, ',
it may not be seen from the earth. Every point of the path of each planet ,
can therefore be observed ; and although without waiting for such observation >
its course might be determined, yet it is material here to attend to the fact, that >
the whole orbit may be submitted to direct observation. The different planets ,
also present peculiar features by which each may be distinguished. Thus they >
are observed to be spherical bodies of various 'magnitudes. The surfaces of J
some are marked by peculiar modes of light and shade, which, although varia- >
ble and shifting, still, in each case, possess some prevailing and permanent \
characters by which the identity of the object may be established, even were \
there no other means of determining it. The sun is the common centre of at- <
traction, the physical bond by which this planetary family are united, and pre- /
vented from wandering independently through the abyss of space. Fach planet »
thus revolving in a circle, has the same tendency to fly from the centre that a <
• Cic. de Fin. Bon. et Mai. ii. 14.
HALLEY'S COMET.
173
stone has when whirled in a sling. Why, then, it will be asked, do not the
planets yield to this natural tendency ? What enables them to resist it ? To
this question no satisfactory answer can be given ; but the fact that the tendency
is resisted, being certain, the existence of some physical principle in which
the means of such resistance resides, is proved. As the tendency to fly off is
directed from the centre of the sun, the opposing physical influence must con-
sequently be directed toward that centre. This central influence is what has
been called gravitation. Although we are still ignorant of the nature or proxi-
mate cause of this force, and of its modus operandi, we have obtained a per-
fect knowledge of the laws by which it acts ; and this is all that is necessary
or material to enable us to follow out its consequences. By virtue of this force
of gravitation, then, the planetary masses receive a tendency to drop toward
the sun, which tendency equilibrates with the opposite tendency to fly away,
produced by their orbitual motion. On the exact equilibrium of these two op-
posite physical principles, depends the stability of the system. If the centrif-
ugal tendency proceeding from the orbitual motion were in excess, the planets
would fall off from the central body, and depart for ever into the depths of space ; ;
if, on the other hand, the central influence, or gravitation toward the sun, ex- <
isted in excess, these bodies would gradually approach that luminary, and finally
coalesce with his mass.
Besides these bodies, the greater part of which have been long known, and
the motions of most of which have been in some degree understood, even from
remote antiquity, there is a still more numerous class of objects, whose appear-
ances in the system were of such a nature as to defy the powers of philosophi-
cal inquiry, until these powers received that prodigious accession of force
which was conferred upon them by the discoveries of Newton. Unlike planets,
comets do not present to us those individual characters above mentioned, by
which their identity may be determined. None of them have been satisfacto-
rily ascertained to be spherical bodies, nor indeed to have any definite shape.
Ic is certain that many of them possess no solid matter, but are masses con-
sisting entirely of aeriform or vaporous substances ; others are so surrounded
with this vaporous matter, that it is impossible, by any means of observation
which we possess, to discover whether this vapor enshrouds within it any solid
mass. The same vapor which thus envelopes the body (if such there be with-
in it), also conceals from us its features and individual character. Even the
limits of the vapor itself are subject to great change in each individual comet.
Within a few days they are sometimes observed to increase or diminish some
hundred fold. A comet appearing at distant intervals, presents, therefore, no
very obvious means of recognition. A like extent of surrounding vapor would
evidently be a fallible test of identity ; and not less inconclusive would it be to
infer diversity from a different extent of nebulosity.
If a comet, like a planet, revolved round the sun in an orbit nearly circular,
it might be seen in every part of its path, and its identity might thus be estab-
lished independently of any peculiar characters in its appearance. But such
is not the course which comets are observed to take. These bodies usually
are observed to rush into our system suddenly and unexpectedly, from some
particular quarter of the universe. They first follow in a straight line, or nearly
so, the course by which they entered ; and this course is commonly directed
to some point not far removed from the sun. As they approach that luminary,
their path becomes curved; at first slightly, but afterward more and more ; the
curve being concave toward the sun. Having arrived at a certain least dis-
tance from the centre of our system, they again begin to recede from the sun,
and as their distance increases, their path becomes less and less curved ; until
at length they shoot off in a straight course, and make their exit from our sys-
tern toward some quarter of the universe wholly different from that from which
they came.
We have stated that none of the planets depart much above or below the
plane of the earth's orbit ; it is quite otherwise with comets, which follow no
certain law in this respect. Some of them sweep the system nearly in the
plane in which the planets move ; others rush through it in curves, oblique in
various degrees to this plane ; while some move in planes perpendicular to it.
The planets also move round the sun all in one direction. Comets, on ths other
hand, rebel against this law, and move, some in one direction and some in
another.
So far then as observation informs us, we are left to decide between two
suppositions : 1. That the comet has entered the system for the first time ; and
that having swept behind the sun, it has emerged in a different direction, never
to return : 2. That it moves in a large orbit, of which the sun is not the cen-
tre, but. on the contrary, is placed very near the path of the body itself; that
the comet is visible only in that part of its orbit which is in the immediate
neighborhood of the sun, but is invisible throughout that large part, which per-
haps extends, through depths of space, far beyond our most remote planet. If
the latter supposition be adopted, it would follow that the same comet, after
emerging from our system, would, after the lapse of a certain time, return to it,
arid pursue the same path, or nearly the same path, round the sun as before.
If then we find, after the lapse of a certain time, a comet following the same
path wrhile visible, as a former comet was observed to follow, we infer that
they also followed the same path during that much longer period in which they
were beyond the sphere of our observation, and consequently we infer, with a
high degree of probability, that the comets which thus follow precisely the
same track, must be the same comet. We say with probability, because there
is a possibility, although it be a bare possibility, that two different comets
should move precisely in the same orbit.
Now, let us suppose that, during the appearance of a comet, its path from
day to day, or perhaps from hour to hour, is so carefully observed, that we
could delineate it with a corresponding degree of accuracy in any plan or
model of the system. This path would, as we have seen, form a very small
fragment of its entire orbit ; but if the nature of that orbit were known, the
principles of geometry would also enable us to complete the curve. Thus, if
a small arc of a large circle be traced upon paper, every one conversant with
geometry will be able to complete the circle, even though he be not told with
what centre the small arc was described, or with what length of radius. It
is the same with other curves. Newton has proved that every mass of matter
which is moved through the system, under the attracting influence of the sun.
must, by its motion, trace one or other of those curves called conic sections:
and that the curve must be so placed, that the centre of the sun shall be in that
point which is called its focus. Now, conic sections are of three kinds ; the
ellipse, which is a curve of oval form, such that a point moving on it would re-
trace the same course every revolution. But the other two species (called the
parabola and hyperbola), consist of two branches diverging from their point of
connexion in two different directions, and proceeding in those directions with-
out ever again reuniting. If a body (as it might do by the established law of
! gravitation) entered our system by one branch of such a curve, it would, after
| sweeping behind the sun, emerge by the other branch never to return. Thus it
i appears, that either of the two suppositions which we have just made, would be
| compatible with the law of gravitation ; and it is possible that some comets misrht
i mov'e in ellipses, returning continually over the same path at stated intervals,
[ while others, moving in parabolas, or hyperbolas, entering our system for the first
J
HALLE Y'S COMET.
175
and only time, would emerge from it in another direction, and quit it for ever.
It will perhaps be asked, if the orbits must be conic sections, with the sun in the
focus, how is it that the planetary orbits are considered as circles ? The fact
is, the planetary orbits are not. strictly circular, though very nearly so ; they
are ellipses, which are so slightly oval, that, when exhibited in a drawing, they
would not be perceived to be so, unless their length and breadth were ac-
curately measured. The centre of the sun, also, is in their focus, and not in
their centre ; but owing to their slightly oval form, the distance of the focus
from the centre is very inconsiderable compared with their whole magnitude.
To obtain a correct notion of the form of an ellipse, let a flexible string be
attached to two points, such as A and B, and let a pencil be looped in it so
that when the string is stretched the pencil will be at D ; the string extending
from A to D, and from D to B. Let the pencil be moved, carrying the loop
with it. It will pass successively to the points C, E, M, &c., &c., describing
the oval curve, D, C, E, M, L. This curve is called an ellipse. The points
A and B are called its foci, and the point 0, at the middle of the distance A
B, is called its centre. The ellipse will be more or less oval as the string is
less or greater than the distance A B.
Such is the general form of the curves in which the comets move. If the
entire ellipse except the part D, L, G, were blotted out, it would be very dif-
ficult to distinguish the arc D, L, G, from that of a parabola or hyperbola.
On the appearance of a comet then, the first question which presents itself
to the astronomical inquirer is, whether the same comet has ever appeared be-
fore ? and the only means which he possesses of answering this inquiry is, by
ascertaining, from such observations as may be made during its appearance,
the exact "path it follows ; and this being known, to discover, by the principles
i of geometry, the nature of its orbit. If the orbit be found to be an ellipse, then
the return of the comet would be certain, and the time of the return would be
known by the magnitude of the ellipse. If the path, on the other hand, should
appear to be either a parabola or hyperbola, then it would be equally certain that
the comet had never been before in our system, and would never return to it.
176 HALLEY'S COMET.
But a difficulty of a peculiar nature obstructs the solution of this question.
It so happens that the only part of the course of a comet which ever can be
visible, is a portion such as D, L, G, throughout which the ellipse, the para-
bola, and hyperbola so closely resemble one another, that no observations can
be obtained with sufficient accuracy to enable us to distinguish one from the
other. In fact, the observed path of any comet, while visible, may indiffer-
ently belong to an ellipse, parabola, or hyperbola.
There is, nevertheless, a certain degree of definiteness in the observed
course of the body, which, although insufficient to enable us to say what the
nature of the entire orbit may be, is still sufficiently exact to enable us to rec-
ognise any other comet, which moves, while visible, nearly in the same course.
If then, after the lapse of a certain time, a comet should be found following
that course, there would be a strong presumption that it is the same comet re-
turning again to our system, after having traversed the invisible part of its
orbit. This probability would be strengthened, if, on the two occasions, the
body should present a similar appearance ; although this is not essential to the
identity, since, as has been stated, the same comet is observed to undergo con-
siderable changes, even during a single appearance.
The time between the appearances of comets following nearly the same path
being noted, the interval — the identity of the bodies being assumed — must
either consist of a single period, or of two or more complete periods. The
epoch which is usually taken as the commencement of a new revolution being
the instant of time at which the comet is at its least distance from the sun, the
place of the comet at that moment is called its perihelion. The period of a
comet may, therefore, be defined to be the interval of time between two suc-
cessive arrivals at its perihelion.
Having succeeded in identifying the path of any two comets, we are then
in a condition to predict with some degree of probability the time at which the
next appearance may be expected. It is certain — providing that it be the same
comet — that it will arrive at its perihelion after the same interval nearly ; also
that it may arrive at half the interval, or a third of the interval, or any other
fraction corresponding to the possible number of unobserved appearances which
may have taken place in the interval between those appearances from which
its return has been predicted. The times, therefore, at which the comet .may
be looked for with a probability of rinding it, may without difficulty be predicted ;
and if it has been a conspicuous body in the heavens on the occasion of its
former appearances, there is a probability that the whole interval between these
appearances constituted but one period, and that no return of the comet had
escaped observation.
Such are the circumstances which may have been conceived to have pre-
sented themselves when the idea first occurred of attempting to ascertain the
identity of former comets, and to discover the means of predicting their future
return. The Principia of Newton, which laid the foundation of all sound as-
tronomical science, had appeared soon after tie middle of the seventeenth
century ; and Halley, the contemporary and friend of Newton, had his atten-
tion naturally directed to the physical inquiries which that immortal book sug-
gested.
One of the most curious and interesting of these questions was that to which
we now allude. Halley, referring to the records of all former observers,
with a view to obtain means of determining, so far as possible, the course
of former comets, succeeded in identifying one which he had himself ob-
served in 1682, with comets which had appeared on several former occa-
sions , and found, that the interval between its successive returns was from
75 to 76 years. This discovery has since been fully confirmed, and the comet
HALLEY'S COMET. ]77
has received the name of Halley's comet. We now propose to lay before the
reader the history of this celebrated comet.
In retracing the history of a body of this nature so far as we can collect it
from ancient chroniclers and historians, it is necessary to bear in mind that ?
the terror which the appearance of comets inspired, had a tendency to produce
an exaggeration of their effects. The propensity to ascribe to supernatural
causes, effects which the understanding fails to account for, has rendered
comets peculiarly objects of superstitious terror. Thev have been accordingly
regarded in past ages as the harbingers of war, pestilence, and famine, and of
all the greatest scourges which have visited the human race. But more es-
pecially they have presided at the birth and death of the most celebrated
heroes. Thus, a conspicuous body of this kind appeared for several days suc-
ceeding 'be death of Julius Caesar, and was regarded as the soul of that illus-
trious f •*«. './transferred to the heavens. Another was seen at Constantinople
in the year o»f the birth of Mohammed. It is obvious, that under the influence
of such powerful prejudices, the circumstances attending these appearances
would naturally ba amplified and exaggerated ; and the probability of exag-
geration is inci eased by the fact that since science has shed its light upon the
civilized world, these terrible objects have, in a great degree, disappeared, and
comets have dwindled for the most part into very insignificant appearances.
One of the ill consequences of this exaggeration is, that it greatly increases
the difficulty of identifying the bodies which have been described with those
which have appeared in more recent times. In fact, we have little more to
guide us than the epochs of the respective appearances ; and, antecedently to
the fifteenth century, we possess absolutely no other evidence of the identity
of these bodies except the record of their appearance at the times at which we
know, from their ascertained periods, they ought to have appeared. Adopting
this test of identity, it would seem at least probable that the first recorded ap-
pearance of Halley's comet was that which was supposed to signalize the
birth of Christ. It is said to have appeared for twenty-four days ; its light is
described to have surpassed that of the sun ; its magnitude to have extended
over a fourth part of the firmament ; and it is stated to have occupied conse-
quently about four hours in rising and setting.
In the year 323, a comet appeared in the sign Virgo. Another, according
to the historians of the Lower Empire, appeared in the year 399, seventy five
years after the last ; this last interval being the period of Halley's comet.
The interval between the birth of Mithridates and the year 323 was four
hundred and fifty-three years, which would be equivalent to six periods of sev-
enty-five and a half years. Thus, it would seem, that in the interim there were
five returns of this comet unobserved, or at least unrecorded. The appearance
in the year 399 was attended with extraordinary circumstances. In the T/ie-
atrum Cumetarum of Lobienietski, it is described as cometa prodigiosa magni-
tudinis, hornbilis aspectu, comam, ad terrain usque demittere visus. The next
recorded appearance of a comet agreeing with the ascertained period, marks
the taking of Rome by Totila in the year 550 ; an interval of one hundred and
fifty-one years, or two periods of seventy-five and a half years, having elapsed.
One unrecorded term must, therefore, have taken place in this interim. The
next appearance of a comet coinciding with the assigned period is three hun-
dred and eighty years afterward, viz., in the year 930, five revolutions having
been completed in the interval. The next appearance is recorded in the year
1005, after an interval of a single period of seventy-five years. Three revo-
lutions would now seem to have passed unrecorded, when the comet again
makes its appearance in 1230. In this, as well as in former appearances, it is
to state once more, that the sole test of identity of these comets with that
L,
of Halley, is the coincidence of the times of their appearances, as nearly as
historical records enable us to ascertain, with the epochs at which the comet
of Halley might have been expected to appear. That such evidence, however,
must needs be imperfect will be evident, if the frequency of cometary appear-
ances be considered ; and if it be remembered that hitherto we find no recorded
observations which could enable us to trace even with the rudest degree of
approximation the paths of those comets, the times of whose appearances raise
a presumption of their identity with that of Halley. We now, however, de-
scend to times in which more satisfactory evidence may be expected.
In the year 1305, one of those in which the comet of Halley may have been
expected, a comet is recorded of remarkable appearance : Cometa horrendce
masnitudinis visus est circa ferias Pasckatis, quern secuta est pestileniia maxima.
Had the horrid appearance of this body alone been recorded, this description
might have passed without the charge of great exaggeration ; butVhen we find
the Great Plague connected with it as a consequence, it is impossible not to con-
clude that the comet was seen by its historians through the magnifying medium
of the calamity which followed it. Another appearance is recorded in the year
1380, unaccompanied by any other circumstance than its' mere date. This,
however, is in strict accordance with the ascertained period of Halley's
comet.
We now arrive at the first appearance at which observations were taken,
possessing sufficient accuracy to enable subsequent investigators to determine
the path of the comet : and this is accordingly the first comet, the identity of
which with the comet of Halley can be said to be conclusively established.
In the year 1456, a comet is stated to have appeared, of " unheard-of magni-
tude ;" it was accompanied by a tail of extraordinary length, which extended
over sixty degrees (a third of the heavens), and continued to be seen during
the whole of the month of June. The influence which was attributed to this
appearance renders it probable that in the record there exists more or less of
exaggeration. It was considered as the celestial indication of the rapid sue- \
cess of Mohammed II., who had taken Constantinople, and struck terror into \
the whole Christian world. Pope Calixtus II. levelled the thunders of the )
church against the enemies of his faith, terrestrial and celestial, and in the
same bull exorcised the Turks and the comets ; and in order that the memory
of this manifestation of his power should be for ever preserved, he ordained
that the bells of all the churches should be rung at midday — a custom which is
preserved in those countries to our times. It must be admitted that, notwith-
standing the terrors of the church, the comet pursued its course with as much
ease and security as those with which Mohammed converted the church of St.
Sophia into his principal mosque.
The extraordinary length and brilliancy which was ascribed to the tail upon
this occasion, have led astronomers to investigate the circumstances under
which its brightness and magnitude would be the greatest possible ; and, upon
tracing back the motion of the comet to the year 1456, it has been found that it
was then actually under the circumstances of position with respect to the
earth and sun most favorable to magnitude and splendor. So far, therefore
the results of astronomical calculation corroborate the records of history.
The next return took place in the year 1531. Pierre Appian, who first as-
certained the fact that the tails of comets are usually turned from the sun, ex-
amined this comet, with a view to verify his statement, and to ascertain the
true direction of its tail. He made accordingly numerous observations upon
its position, which, though, compared with the present standard of accuracy,
they must be regarded as of a rude nature, were still sufficiently exact to enable
Halley to identify this comet with that observed by himself in 1682.
The next return took place in 1607, when the comet was observed by the
celebrated Kepler. This astronomer, on his return from a convivial party, first
saw it on the evening of the 26th of September ; it had the appearance of a
star of the first magnitude, and, to his vision, was without a tail ; but the friends
who accompanied him, having better sight, distinguished the tail. Before
three o'clock the following morning, the tail had become clearly visible, and
had acquired great magnitude. Two days afterward the comet was observed
by Longomontanus ; he describes its appearance, to the naked eye, to be like
Jupiter, but of a paler and more obscure light ; that its tail was of considerable
length, of a paler light than that of the head, and more dense than the tails of
ordinary comets. He states that on the 24th of September following, the comet
was not apparent ; that on the 24th of October it was seen obscurely, and some
days afterward disappeared altogether.
The next appearance, and that which was observed by Halley himself, took
place in 1682, a little before the publication of the Principia. A comet of
frightful magnitude had appeared in 1680, and had so terrified all Europe, that
the subject of our present inquiry, though of such immense astronomical im-
portance, excited comparatively little popular notice. In the interval, however,
between 1607 and 1682, practical astronomy had made great advances ; instru-
ments of observations had been brought to a state of comparative perfection ;
numerous observatories had been established, and the management of them had
been confided to the most, eminent astronomers of Europe. In 1682, the sci-
entific world was, therefore, prepared to examine this visiter of our system
with a degree of care and accuracy before unknown. It was observed at Paris
by Lahire, Picard, and Dominique Cassini ; at Dantzic,by Hevelius ; at Padua.
by Alontonari ; and in England, by Halley and Flamstead.
In 1686, about four years afterward, Newton published his Principia, in
which ho applied to the comet of 1680 the general principles of physical in-
vestigation first promulgated in that work. He explained the means of deter-
mining, by geometrical construction, the visible portion of the path of a body
of this kina, and invited astronomers to apply these principles to the various
recorded comets — to discover whether some among them might not have ap-
peared at different epochs, the future returns of which might consequently be
predicted. Such was the effect of the force of analogy upon the mind of
Newton, that, without awaiting the discovery of a periodic comet, he boldly
assumed these bodies to be analogous to planets in their revolution round the
sun.
In the ifrird book of his Principia, he calls them a species of planets re-
volving in elliptic orbits, of a very oval form, and even remarks an analogy
observable between the order of their magnitudes and those of the planets. He
says, " As among planets without tails, those which revolve in less orbits, and
nearer to the sun, are of less magnitude, so comets which in their perihelia
approach still nearer to the sun than the planets, are much less than the plan-
ets, that their attraction may not act too strongly on the sun. But," he con-
tinues, '• I leave to be determined by others the transverse diameters and
periods, by comparing comets which return after long intervals of time to the
same orbits."
It is interesting to observe the avidity Avith which minds of a certain order
snatch at generalizations, even when but slenderly founded upon facts. These
conjectures of Newton were soon after adopted by Voltaire : " II y a quelque
apparence," says he, in an essay on comets, " qu'on connaitra un jour un cer-
tain nombre de ces autres planetes qui sous le nom de cometes tournent comme
nous autour du soleil, mais il ne faut pas esperer qu'on les connaissent toutes."
And again, elsewhere, on the same subject : —
'• Cometes, que Ton craint a 1'egal du tonnere,
Cessez d'epouvanter les peuples de la terre ;
Dans une ellipse immense achevez votre cours,
Itemoutez, descendez pres de 1'astre des jours."
Extraordinary as these conjectures must have appeared at the time, they
were soon strictly realized. Halley undertook the labor of examining the cir-
cumstances attending all the comets previously recorded, with a view to dis-
cover whether an\c and which of them, appeared to follow the same path.
Antecedently to the year 1700, four hundred and twenty-five of these bodies
had been recorded in" history ; but those which had appeared before the four-
teenth century had not been submitted to any observations by which their paths
could be ascertained — at least not with a sufficient degree of precision to afford
any hope of identifying them with those of other comets. Subsequently to the
year 1300, however, Halley found twenty-four comets on which observations
had been made and recorded, with a degree of precision sufficient to enable
him to calculate the actual paths which these bodies followed while they were
visible. He examined with the most elaborate care the courses of each of
these twenty-four bodies ; he found the exact points at which each of them
penetrated the plane of the earth's orbit ; also the angle which the direction of
their motion made with that plane ; he also calculated the nearest distance at
which each of them approached the sun, and the exact place of the body when
at that nearest distance. In a word, he determined all the circumstances
which were necessary to enable him to lay down, with sufficient precision,
the path which these comets must have followed while they continued to be
visible.
On comparing their paths, Halley found that one which appeared in 1661,
followed nearly the same path as one which had appeared in 1532. Suppo-
sing, then, these to be two successive appearances of the same comet, it would
follow that its period would be one hundred and twenty-nine years ; and
Halley accordingly conjectured that its next appearance might be expected
after the lapse of one hundred and twenty-nine years, reckoning from 1661.
Had this conjecture been well founded, the comet must have appeared about
the year 1790. No comet, however, appeared at or near that time following a
similar path.
In his second conjecture, Halley was more fortunate, as indeed might be
expected, since it was formed upon more conclusive grounds. He found that
the paths of comets which had appeared in 1531 and 1606, were very nearly
identical, and that they were in fact the same as the path followed by the
comet observed by himself in 1682. He suspected, therefore, that the appear-
ances at these three epochs were produced by three successive returns of the
same comet, and that consequently its period in its orbit must be about seventy-
five and a half years.
So little was the scientific world at this time prepared for such an announce-
ment, that Halley himself only ventured at first to express his opinion in the
form of conjecture ; but after some further investigation of the circumstances
of the recorded comets, he found three others which at least in point of time
agreed with the period assigned to the comet of 1682, viz., those of 1305,
1380, and 1456.* Collecting confidence from these circumstances, he an-
nounced his discovery as the result of combined observation and calculation,
and entitled to as much confidence as any other consequence of an established
physical law.
There were nevertheless two circumstances, which to the fastidious skeptic
* The path of the comet of 1456 was afterward fully identified with that of 1682.
might be supposed to offer some difficulty. These were, first, that the inter-
( vals between the supposed successive returns to perihelion were not precisely
equal ; and, secondly, that the inclination of the comet's path to the plane of the
earth's orbit was not exactly the same in each case. Halley, however, with a
degree of sagacity which, considering the state of knowledge at the time, can-
not fail to excite unqualified admiration, observed that it was natural to suppose
that the same causes which disturbed the planetary motions must likewise act
upon comets ; and that their influence would be so much the more sensible upon
these bodies because of their great distances from the sun. Thus, as the at-
traction of Jupiter upon Saturn was known to affect the velocity of the latter
planet, sometimes retarding and sometimes accelerating it, according to their
relative position, so as to affect its period to the extent of thirteen days, it
might well be supposed that the comet might suffer by a similar attraction, an
effect sufficiently great to account for the inequality observed in the interval
between its successive returns ; and also for the variation to which the direc-
tion of its path upon the plane of the eclipti,c was found to be subject. He
observed, in fine, that as in the interval between 1607 and 1682 the comet
passed so near Jupiter that its velocity must have been augmented, and conse-
quently its period shortened by the action of that planet, this period, therefore,
having been only seventy-five years, he inferred that the following period would
< probably be seventy-six years or upward ; and consequently that the comet
> ought not to be expected to appear until the end of 1758, or the beginning of
$ 1759. It is impossible to imagine any quality of mind more enviable than that
which, in the existing state of mathematical physics, could have led to sucli a
prediction. The imperfect state of mathematical science rendered it impossible
for Halley to offer to the world a demonstration of the event which he foretold.
" He therefore," says M. de Pontecoulant, " could only announce these felicitous
conceptions of a sagacious mind as mere intuitive perceptions, which must be
received as uncertain by the world, however he might have felt them himself,
until they cculd le verified by the process of a rigorous analysis."
The theory of gravitation, which was in its cradle at the time of Halley's
investigations, had grown to comparative maturity before the period at which
his prediction could be fulfilled. The exigencies of that theory gave birth to
new and more powerful instruments of mathematical inquiry : the differential
and integral calculus was its first and greatest offspring. This branch of sci-
ence was cultivated with an ardor and success by which it was enabled to an-
swer all the demands of physics, and consequently mechanical science ad-
vanced, pari passu. Newton's discoveries having obtained reception throughout
the scientific world, his inquiries and his theories were followed up ; and the
consequences of the great principle of universal gravitation were rapidly de-
veloped. Among these inquiries one problem was eminently conspicuous for
the order of minds whose powers vrere brought to bear upon it. One of the
first and simplest results of the theory of gravitation was, that if a single planet
attended the sun (its mass being insignificant compared with that of the sun),
that planet must revolve in an "ellipse, the focus of which must be occupied by
the centre of the sun ; but, if a second planet be admitted into the system, then
the elliptic form of their paths round the sun can be preserved only by the sup-
position that the two planets have no attraction for each other, and that, no
physical influence is in operation, except the attraction of the solar mass for
each of them. But the law of universal gravitation is founded upon the prin-
ciple that every body in nature must attract and be attracted by every othr.r body.
Thus, the elliptic character of the orbit is effaced the moment a second planet
is introduced. But let us remember that in this case each of the two supposed
planets are in mass absolutely insignificant co.npared with the sun. The
f
182
HALLEY'S COMET.
amount of attraction depending on the greatness of the attracting body, the in-
tensity of the solar attraction of each of the planets must predominate enormously
over the comparatively feeble influence of their diminutive masses on each other.
The tendency of the solar attraction to impress the elliptic form on the paths
of those planets, must therefore prevail in the main ; a4id although their mutual
attraction, however feeble, cannot be wholly ineffective, their orbits will, in
obedience to the solar mandate, preserve a general elliptic form, subject to
those very slight deviations, or disturbances, due to their reciprocal attraction.
The problem to discover the nature and amount of these disturbances is one of
paramount importance in astronomy, and has been called the " problem of
three bodies ;'' and its extension embraces the effects of the mutual gravitation
of all the planets of the system upon each other. This celebrated problem
presented enormous mathematical difficulties. A particular case of it, which,
from the comparative smallness of the third body considered, was attended
with greater facility, was solved by Euler, D'Alembert, and Clairaut. This
was the case in which the single planet, revolving round the sun, was the
earth, and the third body the moon.
Clairaut undertook the difficult application of this problem to the case of the
comet of 1682, with a view to calculate the effects which would be produced
upon it by the attraction of the different planets of the system; and by such
means to convert the conjecture of Halley into a distinct astronomical predic-
tion, attended with all the circumstances of time and place. The exact verifi-
cation of the prediction would, it was obvious, furnish the most complete dem-
onstration of the principle of universal gravitation ; which, though generally re-
ceived, was not yet considered so completely demonstrated as to be independ-
ent of so remarkable a body of evidence as the fulfilment of such a calculation
would afford.
To attain completely the end proposed, it was necessary to solve two very
different classes of problems, requiring different powers of mind, and different
habits of thought and application. The mathematical part of the inquiry,
strictly speaking, consisted in the discovery of certain general analytical for-
mulae, applicable to the case in question ; which, when translated into ordinary
language, would become a set of rules expressing certain arithmetical proces-
ses, to be effected upon certain give* numbers ; and when so effected would
give as the final results, numbers wnich would determine the place of the
comet, under all the circumstances influencing it from hour to hour. The ac-
tual place of the body being thus determined, it became a simple question of
practical astronomy to ascertain its apparent place in the firmament, at corre-
sponding times. A table exhibiting its apparent place thus determined in the
firmament for stated intervals of time, is called its Ephemeris ; it is the final
result to which the whole investigation must tend, and is that whose verifica-
tion by observation would ultimately decide the validity of the reasoning, and
the accuracy of the computations. Clairaut, a mathematician and natural phi-
losopher, was eminently qualified to conduct such an investigation, as far as
the attainment of those general analytical forntulae which embodied the rules
by which the practical astronomer and arithmetician might woxk out the final
results ; but beyond this point neither his habits nor his powers would conduct {
aim. Lalande, a practical astronomer, no less eminent in his own department,
and who, indeed, first urged Clairaut to this inquiry, accordingly undertook the
management of the astronomical and arithmetical part of the calculation. In
this prodigious labor (for it was one of most appalling magnitude) he was as-
sisted by the -wile of an eminent watchmaker in Paris, named Lepaute, whose
exertions on this occasion have deservedly registered her name in astronom-
ical history.
HALLEY'S COMET.
183
It is difficult to convey to one who is not conversant with such investiga-
tions, an adequate notion of the labor which such an inquiry involved, 'ihe
calculation of the influence of any one planet of the system upon any other, is
itself a problem of some complexity and difficulty ; but still, one general com-
putation, depending upon the calculation of the terms of a certain series, is
sufficient for its solution. This comparative simplicity arises entirely from two
circumstances which characterize the planetary orbits. These are, that though
they are ellipses, they differ very slightly from circles ; and though the plan-
ets do not move in the plane of the ecliptic, yet none of them deviate consider-
ably from that plane. But these characters do not, as we have already stated,
belong to the orbits of comets, which, on the contrary, are highly eccentric,
and depart from the ecliptic at all possible angles. The consequence of this
is, that the calculation of the disturbances produced in the cometary orbit by
the action of the planets, must be conducted, not like the planets, in one gen-
eral calculation applicable to the whole orbit, but in a vast number of separate
calculations, in which the oifeit is considered, as it were, bit by bit, each bit
requiring a calculation similar to that of the whole orbit of the planet. In
fact, for a very small part of its course, we treat the comet as we would a
planet ; making our calculations, and completing them, nearly in the same
manner ; but for the next part we are obliged to enter upon a new calculation,
starting with a different set of numbers, but performing over again similar
arithmetical operations upon them. When it i-s considered that the period of
Halh-y's cornet is about seventy-five years, and that every portion of its course,
for two successive periods, was necessary to be calculated separately in this
way, some notion may be formed of the labor encountered by Lalande and
Madame Lepaute. " During six months," says Lalande, " we calculated from
morr.ing till night, sometimes even at meals, the consequence of which was,
that I contracted an illness which changed my constitution for the remainder
of my life. The assistance rendered by Madame Lepaute was such, that with-
out her we never could have dared to undertake this enormous labor, in which
it was necessary to calculate the distance of each of the two planets, Jupiter
and Saturn, from the comet, and their attraction upon that body, separately, for
every successive degree, and for 150 years."*
These elaborate calculations having been completed, Clairaut, fearing that the
comet would anticipate his announcement, presented his first memoir to the
Academy on the 14th of November, 1758. In this memoir he was compelled to
adopt the path of the comet upon its former appearance, as determined by the
observations of Appian. These, however, were made at a time when little at-
tention was paid to comets ; and were made, moreover, without that conscious-
ness on the part of the observer of their future importance, which would doubt-
less have produced greater accuracy. In calculating the effect of the attrac-
tion of Jupiter and Saturn upon the comet, in its two periods between 1707
and 1682, and between the latter period and the expected return, Clairaut pro-
ceeded upon the supposition that the masses of these planets were each what
they were ther. supposed to be. It has, Eowever, since appeared, that the es-
timates cf these masses were incorrect, more especially that of Saturn. The
planet Hcrschel being then unknown, its influence upon the comet was, of
* The name of Madame Lepante does not appear in Clairaut' s memoir ; a suppression which La-
lande attributes to the influence exercised by another lady to whom Clairaut was attached. La-
lande, however, quotes letters of Clairaut, in which he speaks in terms of high admiration of " la
savante calculatrice." The labors of this lady in the work of calculation (for she also assisted La-
lande in constructing his Ephemeridcs) at length so weakened her sight, that she was compelled to
desist. She died in 1788, while attending on her husband, who had become insane. See the arti-
cles on comets, written with considerable ability, in the Companion to the British Almanac for the
rear 1833. They are understood to be the production of Mr. De Morgan, secretary of the Astro-
aomical Society.
184
HALLEY'S COMET.
course, wholly omitted. Neither did Clairaut take into account the action of
the earth. Encumbered with the disadvantages of precision in his data, he
predicted, in his first memoir, that the comet would arrive at its nearest point
to the sun on the 18th of April, 1759 ; but he stated at the same tirre that the
imperfection of some of the methods of calculation he was compelled to adopt,
was such as to leave a possibility of his prediction being erroneous to the ex-
tent of a month. After presenting this memoir he resumed his calculations,
and completed some which he had not time to execute previously. He then
announced that the 4th of April would be the day of the comet's arrival at the
nearest distance to the sun.
This wonderful astronomical prediction was accompanied by a circumstance
still more remarkable and interesting than that which we have noticed in the
conjectures of Halley as to the disturbing effects of the planets upon the com-
et's period. Clairaut stated that there might- be very many circumstances
which, independently of any error either in the methods or process of calcula-
tion, might cause the event to deviate more ordess from its predicted occur-
rence ; one of which was the probability of an undiscovered planet of our ays-
tern revolving beyond the orbit of Saturn, and acting by its gravitation upon the
comet. In twenty-two years after this time this conjecture was accurately
fuVilled by the discovery of the planet Herschel,by the late Sir William Her-
schel, revolving round the sun one thousand millions of miles beyond the orbit
of Saturn !
In the successive appearances of the comet subsequent to 1456, it was found
to have gradually decreased in magnitude and splendor. While in 1456 it
occupied two thirds of the firmament, and spread terror over Europe, in 1607
its appearance, when observed by Kepler and Longomontanus, was that of a
star of the first magnitude ; and so trifling was its tail, that Kepler himself,
when he first saw it, doubted if it had any. In 1682 it excited little attention
except among astronomers. Supposing this decrease of magnitude and bril-
liancy to be progressive, Lalande entertained serious apprehensions that on
its expected return it might escape the observation even of astronomers ; and
thus that this splendid example of the power of science, and unanswerable
proof of the principle of gravitation, would be lost to the world. It is not un-
interesting to observe the misgivings of this distinguished astronomer with re-
spect to the appearance of the body, mixed up with his unshaken faith in the
rce.ult of the astronomical inquiry. " We cannot doubt," says he, " that it will
return ; and even if astronomers cannot see it, they will not therefore be the
less convinced of its presence ; they know that the faintness of its light, its great
distance, and perhaps even bad weather, may keep it from our view ; but the
world will find it difficult to believe us ; they will place this discovery, which
has done so much honor to modern philosophy, among the number of chance
predictions. We shall see discussions spring up again in the colleges, con-
tempt among the ignorant, terror among the people, and seventy-six years will
roll away before there will be another opportunity of removing 'all doubt."
Fortunately for science, the arrival of the expected visiter did not take place
under such untoward circumstances. As the commencement of the year 1759
approached, " Les Astronomes," says Voltaire, " ne se coucherent pas."
The honor, however, of the first glimpse of the stranger was not reserved
for the possessors of scientific rank, nor the members of academies or univer-
sities. On the night of Christmas day, 1758, George Palitzch of Prolitz, near
Dresden, " a peasant," says Sir John Herschel, " by station, an astronomer by
nature," first saw the comet. He possessed an eight-foot telescope, with
which he made the discovery ; and the next day communicated the fact to Dr.
Hoffman, who immediately went to his cottage, and saw the comet on the even-
HALLEY'S COMET. 185
1
ings of the 27th and 28th of December. An astronomer of Leipzic observed s
it immediately afterward; " but," says M. de Pontecoulant, "jealous of his /
discovery, as a lover of his mistress, or a miser of his treasure, he would not
share it, and gave himself up to the solitary pleasure of following the body in its
course from day to day, while his contemporaries throughout Europe were vainly
directing their anxious search after it to other quarters of the heavens." A*t
this time Delisle, a French astronomer, and his assistant, Messier, who, from
his unwearied assiduity in the pursuit of comets, received from Louis the Fif-
teenth the appellation of La Fttret de Comctes(tho comet-ferret), had been con-
stantly engaged for eighteen months in watching for the return of Halley's
comet. It would seem that La Caille, and other French astronomers at that
time, considering that Delisle and Messier, from the attention which they had
given to such objects, and more especially from the ardor and indefatigable
perseverance of the latter, could not fail to detect the expected body the mo-
ment it came within view, did not occupy themselves in looking for it. Delisle
computed an Ephemeris, and made a chart of its supposed course in the heav-
ens, and placed it in the hands of Meisser to guide him in his search. This
chart was erroneou»and diverted the attention of Meisser to a quarter of the
firmament through wnich the comet did not pass, and thus, most probably, de-
prived that zealous and assiduous observer of the honor of first discovering its
return to our system. He succeeded, nevertheless, in observing it on the 21st
of January, 1759; nearly a month after it had been seen by Palitzch and
Hoffman, but without knowing that it had been already observed.* The comet
was now observed in various places. It continued to be seen at Dresden, also
at Leipzic, Boulogne, Brussels, Lisbon, Cadiz, &c. Its course being observed,
it was found that it arrived at its perihelion, or at its nearest point to the sun,
on the 13th of March, between three and four o'clock in the morning ; exactly
thirty-seven days before the epoch first assigned by Clairaut, but only twenty-
three days previous to his corrected prediction. The comet on this occasion
appeared very round, with a brilliant nucleus, well distinguished from the sur-
rounding nebulosity. It had, however, no appearance of a tail. About the
middle of the latter month, it became lost in the rays of the sun while ap-
proaching its perihelion ; it afterward emerged from them on its departure
from the sun, and was visible before sunrise in the morning on the 1st of April.
On this day it was observed by Messier, who states that he was able to dis-
tinguish the tail by his telescope. It was again observed by him on the 3d,
15th, and 17th of May. Lalande, however, who observed it on the same oc-
casions, was not able to discover any trace of the tail.
Although it is certain that the splendor and magnitude of the comet in 1759
were considerably less than those with which it had previously appeared, yet
we must not lay too much stress upon the probability of its really diminished
magnitude. In 1759 it was seen under the most disadvantageous circumstan-
ces— it was almost always obscured by the effect of twilight, and was in situ-
ations the most unfavorable possible for European observers. It had been
observed, however, in the southern hemisphere at Pondicherry by Pere Coeur-
Doux, and at the isle of Bourbon by La Caille, under more favorable circum-
* An interesting memoir of Messier may be found in the Histoire de V Astronomic an dixhuitilme
Silcle, by Delambre. La Harpe (Correspondence Litteraire, Paris, 1801, torn, i., p. 97) says, that
"he passed his life in search of comets. The ne plus ultra of his ambition was to be made a mem-
ber of the Academy of Petersburg!!. He was an excellent man, but had the simplicity of a child.
At a time when he was in expectation of discovering a comet, his wife took ill and died. While
attending upon her, being withdrawn from his observatory, Montagne de Limoges anticipated him
by discovering the comet. Messier was in despair. A friend visiting him began to offer some con-
solation for the recent affliction he had suffered : Messier, thinking only of his comet exclaimed : '/
hud discovered twelve. Alas, that I should be robbed of Ike thirteenth by Montnzne !' and his eyes
filled with tears. Then, remembering that it was necessary to mourn tor his wife, whose remains
were still in the house, he exclaimed, ' Ah I cette pauvre fernine,' and again wept for his comet."
186 HALLE Y'S COMET.
stances ; and both of these astronomers agree in stating that the tail was dis-
tinctly visible by the naked eye, and varied in length at different periods from
ten degrees to forty-seven degrees.* These circumstances are obviously in
perfect accordance with the former appearances of the same be Jy.
On its departure from the sun it continued to be observed until the middle
of April, when its southern position caused the time of its rising to follow that
of the sun ; consequently it ceased to be visible in the morning. By a further
change in its position, however, it again appeared after sunset on the 29th, and
Messier then describes it as having the appearance of a star of the first mag-
nitude. But here again unfortunately another circumstance interposed a dif-
ficulty— the light of the moon was at that time so strong as in a great degree
to overcome the effect of the comet. The body disappeared altogether in the
beginning of June.
The comet had now commenced a new period under circumstances far more
favorable than had ever before occurred. An interval of seventy-six years
would throw its return into the year 1835. But during that interval, the
science of analysis, more especially in its application to physical astronomy,
has made prodigious advances. The methods of investigation have acquired
greater simplicity, and have likewise become more general and comprehensive ;
and mechanical science, in the large sense of that term, now embraces in its
formularies the most complicated motions and the most minute effects of the
mutual influences of the various members of our system. These formulre ex-
hibit to the eye of the mathematician a tableau of all the evolutions of these
bodies in ages past, and of all the changes they must undergo (the laws of na-
ture remaining unchanged) in ages to come. Such has been the result of the
combination of transcendent mathematical genius and unexampled labor and
perseverance for the last century. The learned societies established in the
various centres of civilization, have more especially directed their attention to
the advancement of physical astronomy : and have stimulated the spirit of in-
quiry by a succession of prizes offered for the solution of problems arising out
of the difficulties which were progressively developed by the advancement of
astronomical knowledge. Among these questions the determination of the re-
turn of comets, and the disturbances which they experience in their course, by
the action of the planets near which they happen to pass, hold a prominent
place. The French Academy of Sciences, in the year 1778, offered a high
mathematical prize for an essay on this subject, which was the means of call-
ing forth the splendid Memoir of Lagrange, which formed at once a complete
solution and a model for all future investigations of the same kind. Lagrange's
•investigation was, however, of a general nature, and it remained to apply it to
the particular case of Halley's comet, the only one then known to be periodic.
In 1820, the Academy of Sciences at Turin offered a prize for this application
of Lagrange's formula, which was awarded to M. Damoiseau. In 1826, the
French Institute proposed a similar prize, having twice before offered it with-
out calling forth any claimant. On this occasion M. de Pontecoulant aspired
to the honor. " After calculations," says he, " of which those alone who have
engaged in such researches can estimate the extent and appreciate the fatigue-
ing monotony, I arrived at a result which satisfied all the conditions proposed
by the Institute. I determined the perturbations of Halley's comet by taking
into account the simultaneous actions of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus (Herschel),
and the earth; the comet having passed in 1759 sufficiently near our planet to
produce in it (the comet) sensible disturbances ; and I then fixed its return to
its nearest point to the sun for the 7th of November, 1835." Subsequently to
this, however, M. de Pontecoulant made some further researches, which have
* Mcmoires de 1' Academic des Sciences, 1760.
HALLEY'S COMET.
187
led him to correct the former result ; and he has since announced that the
time of its arrival at its nearest point to the sun will be on the morning of the
14th November.
The comet appeared in the heavens in August, 1835, exactly in the position
it was predicted to have, and passed its perihelion, on the 16th November,
within 48 hours of the predicted epoch.
The drawing of this comet usually given is here subjoined.
One of the circumstances, not the least surprising, connected with this
comet, is the magnitude of its orbit. It is a very oblong oval, the total length
of which is about thirty-six times the earth's distance from the sun ; and the
greatest breadth about ten times that distance. The nearer extremity of the
oval is at a distance from the sun equal to about half the earth's distance ; and
the more remote extremity at a distance equal to thirty-five and a half times the
earth's distance from the sun. The earth's distance from the sun, is, in round
numbers, one hundred millions of miles ; the comet's least distance then will
be fifty millions of miles, and its greatest distance three thousand five hundred
and fifty millions of miles. Also, since the heat and light supplied by the sun
to bodies which surround it, diminish in the same proportion as the square of
the distance increases, it follows, that at the nearest distance of the comet, the
heat and light of the sun will be four times the heat and light at the earth, and
at the greatest distance they will be about twelve hundred times less. Also
the heat and light at the more remote extremity of the orbit, will be nearly live
thousand times less than at the nearer extremity ; so that while the sun
HALLEY'S COMET.
from the comet will appear four times as large as it appears at the earth at the
nearer extremity, it will be reduced to the magnitude of a star at the more
remote extremity. The vicissitudes of temperature, not to mention those of
light, consequent upon this change of position, will be sufficiently obvious. If
the earth were transported to the more remote extremity of the comet's orbit,
every liquid substance would become solid by congelation ; and it is extremely
probable that atmospheric air and other permanant gases might become liquids.
) If the earth was, on the other hand, transferred to the nearer extremity of the
; comet's orbit, all the liquids upon it would be converted into vapor, would form
permanent gases, and would either by their mixture constitute atmospheric air,
or would arrange themselves into strata, one above the other, according to their
specific gravities. All the less refractory solids would be fused, and ^ould
form in the cavities of the nucleus, oceans of liquid metal.
The following observations of Dick on this comet will be read with
interest : —
" Soon after the middle of September, as I was taking a sweep with a two-
feet telescope over the northeastern quarter of the heavens, near the poiat
where I expected its appearance, I happened to fix my eye on this long-expected
visiter, which appeared very small and obscure. I immediately directed an
excellent three and a half feet achromatic telescope, with a diagonal eye piece,
magnifying about thirty-four times, to the comet, when it was distinctly seen,
and appeared of a considerable diameter, but still somewhat hazy and obscure.
I afterward applied a power of forty-five, and another of ninety-five ; but it was
seen most distinctly with the lower power. With ninety-five it appeared
extremely obscure, and nearly of the apparent size of the moon.*
" There appeared at this time nothing like a tail, but the centra] part was
much more luminous than the other portions of the comet, and presented some-
thing like the appearance of a star of the third or fourth magnitude, surrounded
with a haze. In some of the views I took of this object, the luminous part, or
nucleus, appeared to be considerably nearer one side than another. At this
period, and for a week or ten days afterward, the comet was Altogether invisible
to the naked eye. Many subsequent observations were made and published in
the provincial newspapers, but which my present limits prevent me from
inserting.
" After the comet became visible to the naked eye, the tail began to appear,
and increased in length as it approached its perihelion, and at its utmost extent
was estimated to be above thirty degrees in length. On the 13th of October,
according to the observations of Arago, a luminous sector was visible in its
head ; on the day following, this sector had disappeared, and a more brilliant
one, and of greater longitudinal extent, was formed in another place. This
second sector was observed on the 17th, when it appeared less bright ; and on
the 1 8th its weakness had decidedly increased. This comet was concealed
till the 21st, but on that day three distinct sectors were visible in the nebulosity.
On the 23d, all traces of these sectors had disappeared, the nucleus, which
had previously been brilliant and well defined, having become so large and
diffuse that the observer could scarcely believe in the reality of such a sudden /
and important alteration, till he satisfied himself that the appearance was not <
occasioned by moisture on the glasses of hifc instrument. It appears, likewise, '
that one of these uiminous fans or sectors was observed by Sir J. Herschel, at
the Cape of Good Hope, after the comet had passed its perihelion. The nebu-
losity of this comet appears to have increased in magnitude as it approached
* In viewing comets, telescopes with large apertures, and comparatively low magnifying power?,
should generally be used, as the faint li-lit emitted by comets, whether it be inherent or reflected,
will not permit the use of to high magnifying powers as may be applied to the planets.
j HALLEY'S COMET.
; the sun, but its changes were sometimes unaccountably rapid : on one occasion
it was observed to become obscure and enlarged in the course of a few hours,
though a little before, its nucleus was clear and well defined. On the llth of
October, the Rev. T. W. Webb and two other observers remarked corusca-
tions in the tail. On that evening, at seven hours and thirty minutes, the tail
was very conspicuous, extending between x and y Draconis, and evidently
fluctuated, or rather coruscated, in length, being occasionally short, and then
stretching in the twinkling of an eye to its full extent, which was at least equal
to ten degrees. Its changes were extremely similar to the kindling and fading
of a very faint streamer of the auroia borealis.
" The influence of the ethereal medium on the motion of Halley's comet will
be known after another revolution, and future astronomers will learn, by the
accuracy of its returns, whether it has met with any unknown cause of distur-
bance in its distant journey. Undiscovered planets beyond the visible boundary
of our system may change its path and the period of its revolution, and thus
may indirectly reveal to us their existence, and even their physical nature and
orbit. The secrets of the yet more distant heavens may be disclosed to future
generations by comets which penetrate still further into space, such as that of
1763, which, if any faith may be placed in the computation, goes nearly forty-
three times further from the sun than Halley's does, and shows that the sun's
attraction is powerful enough at the distance of 144,600,000,000 of miles to
recall the comet to its perihelion. The periods of some comets are said to be
many thousand years, and even the average time of the revolution of comets
generally is about a thousand years ; which proves that the sun's gravitating
force extends very far. La Place estimates that the solar attraction is felt
throughout a sphere whose radius is a hundred millions of times greater than
the distance of the earth from the sun."
" The orbit of Halley's comet is four times longer than it is broad ; its length
is about three thousand four hundred and twenty millions of miles — about
thirty-six times the mean distance of the earth from the sun. At this perihe-
lion it comes within fifty-seven millions of miles of the sun, and at its aphelion
it is sixty times more distant. On account of this extensive range, it must
experience three thousand six hundred times more light when nearest to the
sun than in the most remote point of its orbit. In the one position the sun will
seem to be four times larger than he appears to us, and at the other he will
not be apparently larger than a star." *
The appearance of this comet so near the time predicted by astronomers,
and in positions so nearly agreeing with those which were previously calcu-
lated, is a clear proof of the astonishing accuracy which has been introduced
into astronomical calculations, and of the soundness of those principles on
which the astronomy of comets is founded. It likewise shows that comets in
general are -permanent bodies connected with the solar system, and that no very
considerable change in their constitution takes place while traversing the
distant parts of their orbits.f
* Mrs. Somerville's " Connexion of the Physical Sciences," a work which, though written in a
popular style, would do honor to the first philosophers of Europe. Of this lady's profound mathe-
matical work on the "Mechanism of the Heavens," the Edinburgh Reviewers remark: "It is
unquestionably one of the most remarkable works that female intellect ever produced in any age or
country ; and with respect to the present day, we hazard little in saying, that Mrs. Somerville is the \
only individual of her sex in the world who could have written it" }
t The most particular observations on Halley's comet, during its appearance in 1835, which I
have seen, are those which were made by the Rer. T. W. Webb, of Tretire, near Ross, an account
of which, with deductions and remarks, was read to the Worcestershire Natural History Society.
The observations were made with an excellent achromatic telescope, by Tnlley, of 5 feet 6 inches
focal length, and 37-10 inches aperture. Through the kindness of this gentleman, I was favored
wii'a a manuscript copy of these observations, and would have availed myself of many ol his
judicious remarks, had my limits permitted.
190 HALLEY'S COMET.
Among the circumstances attached to the comet, of Halley, which will at-
tract attention, is the fact of its gradually decreasing brightness. \Ye have seen J
that oh some occasions of its recorded visits at remote periods, it pre-sented an I
appearance which filled the people with terror. Every one knows how insig- £
nifieant an object it was on its return in 1835. If it be true that comets thus
waste themselves away, new data will be afforded to aid in forming a physi-
cal theory for their explanatioa.
1
I
L
THE ATMOSPHERE.
.Atmospheric Air is Material. — Its Color. — Cause of the Blue Sky. — Cause of the Green Sea. — Air
lius Weight. — Experimental Proofs. — Air has Inertia. — Examples of its Resistance. — It acquires
Moving Force. — Examples of its Impact. — Air is Impenetrable. — Experimental Proofs. — Elastic
and compressing Forces equal. — Limited Height of the Atmosphere. — Elasticity proportioned to
the Density. — Experimental Proofs. — Internal and External Pressure on close Vessels containing
Air.
THE ATMOSPHERE.
193
THE ATMOSPHERE.
THE Atmosphere is the thin transparent fluid which surrounds the earth to
a considerable height above its surface and which, in virtue of one of its con-
stituent elements, supports animal life by respiration, and is necessary, also,
to the due exercise of the vegetable functions. This substance is generally,
but erroneously regarded as invisible. That it is not invisible may be proved
by turning our view to the firmament : that, in the presence of light, appears a
vault of an azure or blue color. This color belongs not to anything which
occupies the space in which the stars and other celestial objects are placed,
but to the mass of air through which these bodies are seen. It may probably
be asked, if the air be an azure-colored body, why is not that which immedi-
ately surrounds us perceived to have this azure color, in the same manner as a
blue liquid contained in a bottle exhibits its proper hue ? The question is
easily answered.
There are certain bodies which reflect color so faintly, that when they exist
in limited quantities, the portion of colored light which they reflect to the
eye is insufficient to produce sensation ; that is, to excite in the mind a per-
ception of the color. Almost all semi-transparent bodies are examples of this.
Let a champagne glass be filled with sherry, or other wine of that color. At the
thickest part, near the top of the glass, the wine will strongly exhibit its pecu-
liar color, but as the glass tapers, and its thickness is diminished, this color
will become more faint and, at the lowest point, it will almost disappear, seem-
ing nearly as transparent as water.
Now let a glass tube, of very small bore, be dipped in the same wine, and
the finger being applied to the upper end, let it be raised from the liquid, the
wine will remain suspended in the tube, and if it be looked at through the tube
it will be found to have all the appearance of water and to be colorless. In
this case there can be no doubt that the wine in the tube has actually the same
color as the liquid of which it originally formed a part, but existing only in a
13
small quantity, that color is transmitted to the eye so faintly as to be inefficient j
in producing perception.
The water of the sea exhibits another remarkable example of this effect, i
If we look into the sea where the water has considerable depth, we find that ]
its color is a peculiar tint of green ; but if we take up a glass of the water i
which thus appears green, we shall find it perfectly limpid and cold-less. The )
reason is, that the quantity of the color is too small to be perceivable ; while the
great mass of water, viewed when we look into the deep sea, throws up the
color in such abundance as to produce a strong and decided perception of it.
The atmosphere is in the same circumstances ; the color, from even a con-
siderable portion of it, is too faint to be perceptible. Hence the air which
fills an apartment, or which immediately surrounds us when abroad appears
colorless and transparent. But when we behold the immense mass of atmo-
sphere through which we view the firmament, the color is reflected with suffi-
cient force to produce distinct perception. But it is not necessary for this that
so great an extent of air should be exhibited to us as that which forms the
whole depth or thickness of the atmosphere. Distant mountains appear blue,
not because that is their color, but because it is the color of the medium through
which they are seen.
Although the preceding observations belong more properly to optics than to
mir present subject, yet still, since the exhibition of color is one of the mani-
festations of the presence of body, they may not be considered as foreign to
an investigation of the mechanical properties of atmospheric air. The mind un-
accustomed to physical inquiries finds it difficult to admit that a thing so light,
attenuated, impalpable, and apparently spiritual as air, should be composed of
parts whose leading properties are identical with those of the most solid and ada-
mantine masses. The knowledge that we see the air must, at least, prepare
the mind for the admission of the truth of this proposition that " air is a body."
WEIGHT OF AIR.
Among the properties which are observed to appertain to natter, and which
as far as we know are inseparable from it, in whatever form, and under what-
ever circumstances it exists, weight and inertia hold a conspicuous p-lace. To
be convinced, therefore, that air is material, we ought to ascertain whether it
possesses those properties. We shall have frequent and numerous proofs of
this ; but it will at present be convenient to demonstrate it in such a manner
that we shall be warranted in assuming it in some of the explanations which
we shall have to offer.
The most direct proof that air has weight, is the fact that if a quantity of it
be suspended from one arm of a balance, it will require a definite weight to
counterpoise it in the opposite scale. By the aid of certain pneumatical en-
gines, the nature of which will be explained hereafter, but the operation and
effects of which will for the present be assumed, this may be experimentally
established.
Let a vessel containing about two quarts, be formed of thin copper, with a
narrow neck, in which is placed a stop-cock, by turning which the vessel may
be opened or closed at pleasure. Let two instruments be provided called syr-
inges ; one, the exhausting syringe, and the other the condensing syringe.
Let the exhausting syringe be screwed upon the neck of the vessel and let the
stop-cock be opened so that the interior of the vessel shall have free communica-
tion with the bottom of the syringe ; if the syringe be now worked, a large portion
of the air contained in the vessel may be withdrawn from it. When this has
been done, let the stop-cock be closed to prevent the re-admission of air, and lot
THE ATMOSPHERE.
^•N^VX~*ta^-^
195 /
the vessel be detached from the syringe. Let it then be placed in the dish of
a well-constructed balance and accurately counterpoised by weights in the op-
posite s,cale. The weight which is thus counterpoised is that of the vessel,
and the small portion of air which remains in it, if the latter have any weight.
Let the stop-cock be now opened and the external air will be immediately heard
rushing into the vessel.
When a small quantity has been thus admitted let the stop-cock be again
closed. It will be found that the copper vessel is now heavier, in a small de-
gree, than it was before the air was admitted, for the arm of the balance from
which it is suspended will be observed to preponderate. Let such additional
weights be placed in the opposite scale as will restore equilibrium, the stop-
cock being now once more opened, the air will be observed to rush in as be-
fore, and will continue to do so until as much has passed into the vessel as it
contained before the exhausting syringe was applied. The weight of the ves-
sel will now be observed to be further increased, the end of the beam from
which it is suspended preponderating.
These facts are, perhaps, sufficient proofs that air has weight ; but the ex-
periment may be carried further. Let the condensing syringe be now attached
to the neck of the vessel, and let the stop-cock in the neck be opened so as to
leave a free communication between the vessel and the bottom of the syringe.
The construction of this instrument is such that by working it an increased
quantity of air may be forced into the vessel to any extent which the strength
of the vessel is capable of bearing. A considerably increased quantity of air
being thus deposited in the vessel, let the stop-cock be closed so as to pre-
vent its escape. The vessel being detached from the syringe, is restored to
the dish of the balance : the weights which counterpoised it before the in-
creased quantity of air was forced in still remaining unchanged in the opposite
scale. The vessel will now no longer remain counterpoised, but will prepon-
derate, and will require an increased weight in the opposite scale to restore
it to equilibrium.
In this experiment, we see that every increase which is given to the quan-
tity of air contained in a vessel produces a corresponding increase in its
weight, and that every diminution of the quantity of air it contains produces a
corresponding diminution in its weight. Hence we infer that the air which is
introduced into or withdrawn from the vessel has weight, and that it is by the
amount of its weight that the weight of the vessel is increased or diminished.
We shall hereafter have many other instances of the gravitation of atmo-
spheric air, but we shall for the present assume the principle that air has
weight, founded on the experimental proof just given.
INERTIA OF AIR.
That air, in common with all other bodies, possesses the qualify of inertia,
numerous familiar effects make manifest. Among the effects which betray this
quality in solid bodies, is the fact that when one solid body puts another in
motion, the former loses as much force as the latter receives. This loss of
force is called resistance, and is attributed to the quality of inertia, or inability
in either the striking or struck body to call into existence more force in a given \
direction than previously existed. When the atmosphere is calm and free from
wind, the particles of air maintain their position, and are in a state of rest. If
a solid body, presenting a broad surface, be moved through the air in this
state, it must, as it moves, drive before it and put in motion those parts of the
air which lie in the space through which it passes. Now, if the air had no
inertia, it would require no force to impart this motion to them, and to drive
196 THE ATMOSPHERE.
them before the moving solid ; and as no force would in that case be imparted
to the air, so no force would be lost by the solid ; in other words, the solic
would suffer no resistance to its motion.
But every one's experience proves this not to be the case. Open an um-
brella and attempt to carry it along swiftly with its concave side presented for-
ward— it wi'l immediately be felt to be opposed by a very considerable re-
sistance, and to require a great force to draw it along. Yet this force is noth-
ing more than what is necessary to push the air before the umbrella.
On the deck of a steamboat propelled with any considerable speed, we fee
on the calmest day a breeze directed from the stem to the stern. This arises
from the sensation produced by our body displacing the air as we are carriei
through it.
It is the inertia of the atmosphere which gives effect to the wings of birds
Were it possible for a bird to live without respiration, and in a space void oi
air, it would no longer have the power of flight. The plumage of the wings
being spread, beating with a broad surface on the atmosphere beneath them
is resisted by the inertia of the atmosphere, so that the air forms a fulcrum, as
it were, on which the bird rises by the leverage of its wings.
As a body at rest manifests its inertia by the resistance which it offers when
put in motion, so a body in motion exhibits the same quality by the force wit]
which it strikes a body at rest. We have seen examples of the resistance
which the atmosphere at rest offers to a body in motion ; but the force with
which the atmosphere in motion acts upon a body at rest is exhibited by ex-
amples far more numerous and striking. Wind is nothing more than moving
air ; and its force, like that of every other body, depends on the quantity moved,
and the speed of the motion. Every example, therefore, of the effects of the
power of wind, is an example of the inertia of atmospheric air. In a wind-
mill, the moving force of all the heavy parts of the machinery is derived from
the moving force of the wind acting upon the sails, and the resistance of the
work to which the mill is applied is oveicome by the same power. A ship
is propelled through the deep, and the deep itself is agitated and raised in
waves by the inertia of the atmosphere in motion. As the velocity increases,
the force becomes more irresistible, and we find buildings totter, trees torn
from the roots, and even the solid earth itself yield before the force of the hur-
ricane.
IMPENETRABILITY OF AIR.
Since air may be seen and felt — since it has color and weight — and since
it opposes resistance when -acted upon, and strikes with a force proportionate
to the speed of its motion — we can scarcely hesitate to admit that it has quali-
ties which entitle it to be classed among material substances ; but one other
quality still remains to be noticed, which perhaps decides its title to materiality
more unanswerably than any of the others. Air is impenetrable ; it enjoys
that peculiar property of matter by which it refuses admission to any other
body to fhe space it occupies, until it quit that space. This property air pos-
sesses as positively as adamant. The difficulty which is commonly felt in
conceiving the impel etrability of substances of this nature arises partly from
confounding the quality of impenetrability with that of hardness, and partly
from not attending to the fact that, when a body moves through the air, it (
drives the air before it in the same manner as a vessel moving through the »
water propels the fluid.
Let a bladder be filled with air, and tied at the mouth : we shall then be abie ?
to feel the air it contains as distinctly as if the bladder were filled with a solid \
*J
body. We shall find it impossible, so long as the air is prevented from es-
caping, to press the sides of the bladder together ; and if the bladder be sul/-
mitted to such severe pressure as may be produced by mechanical means, it
will burst before the air will allow it to collapse.
That air will not allow the entrance of another body into the space where
it is present, may also be proved by the following experiment : —
Let A B, fig. 1, be a glass vessel open at the end A, and having a short tube
from the bottom, furnished with a stopcock C. Let D E, fig. 2, be another
glass vessel containing water. On the surface of this water let a small piece
of cork F float. Let the vessel A B, having the stopcock C closed, bo now
inverted ; let its mouth A be placed over the cork F, and let it thus be pressed
to any depth in the reservoir D E. If the air in A B were capable of permit-
ting the entrance of another body into the space in which it is present, the
water in the reservoir D E would now enter at the mouth of the vessel A, and
rising in it, would stand at the same level within the vessel A B as that which
it has without it. But this is not found to be the case. When the vessel A
B is pressed into the reservoir, the surface of the water within A B will be
observed still near the mouth A, as will be indicated by the position of the
cork which floats upon it, and as is represented in fig. 3. It appears, there-
Fig.
fore, manifestly, that whatever be the cause, the water is excluded from the
vessel A B. That this cause is the presence of the air included in the ves-
sel, is proved by opening the stopcock C, and allowing the air to escape. By
the established principles of hydrostatics, the surface of the water within the
vessel A B exerts an upward pressure proportionate to the depth of that sur-
face below the surface of the water exterior to the vessel A B. This pressure
acting upon the air enclosed in the vessel A B, forces it out the moment the
stopcock C is opened, and immediately the surface of the water within A B
rises to the level of the surface without it.
We have stated that the surface of the water within A B remains nearly at
the mouth of that vessel when it is plunged in the reservoir. It would remain
exactly at the mouth if air were incompressible ; but, on the contrary, this fluid
is highly compressible, allowing itself to be forced into reduced dimensions by
the application of adequate mechanical force. It is necessary, however, not
to confound compressibility with penetrability. So far from these qualities
being identical, the one implies the absence of the other. A body is compres-
sible when the forcible intrusion of another body into the space within which
it is confined causes its particles to retreat and to accommodate their ar-
rangement to the more limited space within which they are compelled to
exist. ,
The very fact of their thus retreating before the intruding body is a distinct
manifestation of their impenetrability. If they were penetrable, the body
198
THE ATMOSPHERE.
would enter the space in which they were confined, without driving them be-
fore it, or otherwise disturbing their arrangement.
ELASTICITY AND COMPRESSIBILITY OF AIR.
It will be evident, upon the slightest reflection, that the elasticity of air must
be equal to the force which is necessary to confine it within the space it oc-
cupies. Let us suppose that A B, fig. 4, is a cylinder, having a piston P fitting
D
air-tight at the top ; and let us imagine that this piston P is not acted upon by
any external force having a tendency to keep it in its place. If the cylinder
below the piston be filled with air, this air will have a tendency, by virtue of
its elasticity, to expand into a wider space, and this tendency will be mani-
fested by a pressure exerted by the air on all parts of the surfaces which con-
fine it. The piston P will therefore be subject to a force tending to displace
it and drive it from the cylinder, the amount of which will be the measure of
the elasticity of the air beneath it. Now, if this piston be not subject to the
action of a force directed inward, exactly equal in amount to the pressure thus
exerted by the elastic force of the air, it cannot maintain its position. If it be
subject to an inward force of less amount than the elastic pressure, then the
latter will prevail, and the piston be forced out. If it be subject to an inward
force greater in amount than the elastic pressure, then the former will prevail,
and the piston will be forced in, the air being compelled to retreat within a
more confined space. In no case, therefore, can the piston maintain its posi-
tion, except when it is subject to an inward pressure exactly equal to the elastic
force of the air enclosed in the cylinder.
The property of elasticity renders it necessary that, in whatever state air
exist, it shall be restrained by adequate forces of some definite amount, and
which serve as antagonist principles to the unlimited power of dilatation which
the elastic property implies. In all cases which fall under common obser-
vation, air is either restrained by the resistance of solid surfaces, or it is pressed
by the incumbent weight of the mass of atmosphere placed above it. It may
be asked, however, whether it will not follow from this, that the extent of our
atmosphere is infinite : for that, as we ascend in it, the weight of the superior
mass of air must be gradually and unceasingly lessened, and therefore the
force which resists the expansive principle being removed by degrees, the fluid
will spread through dimensions which are subject to no limitation. Although
it is undoubtedly true that these considerations lead us justly to conclude that
our atmosphere extends to a great distance from the surface, and that tho
higher strata of it are attenuated to a degree which not only exceeds the pow-
ers of art to imitate, but even outstrips the powers of imagination to con-
ceive ; yet still the understanding can suggest a definite limit to this expansion.
Numerous physical analogies favor the conclusion that the divisibility of matter
THE ATMOSPHERE.
199
? Ins a limit, or that all material substances consist of ultimate constituent par-
ticles or atoms, which admit of no further subdivision, and on the mutual
relations of which the form and properties of the various species of bodies
depend.
Now those ultimate particles of the air are endued with a certain definite
weight, because it is the aggregate of their weights which form the weight of
any mass of air. It is a fact, established by experiment, that in proportion as
air expands, its elastic force is diminished ; and therefore, if it continue to
expand, it will at length attain a state of attenuation in which the disposition
of its constituent particles to separate by their elasticity is so far diminished
as not to exceed the gravity of those constituent particles themselves. In this
state the two forces will be in equilibrium, and the elastic force being neutral-
ized, the particles will no longer be dilated.
In these observations we have assumed a principle which is of the last
importance in pneumatics, and which, indeed, may be regarded as forming
the basis of this part of physical science, in the same manner as the power of
transmitting pressure is the fundamental principle of hydrostatics. This latter
principle, indeed, also extends to elastic fluids ; and all the consequences of
the free transmission of pressure which do not also involve the supposition of
incompressibility, are applicable to elastic fluids with as much truth as to
liquids. But the principle to which we now more especially refer, and which
may be looked upon as the chief characteristic of this form of body, and neces-
sary to render deh'nite the notion of their elasticity, may be announced as fol-
lows : —
" The elastic force of any given portion of air is augmented in exactly
the same proportion as the space within which it is enclosed is diminished ;
and its elastic force is diminished in exactly the same proportion as the space
through which it is allowed to expand is augmented."
Fig. 5.
Fig. 6.
D
Lie
iLc
To explain this, let A B C D, fig. 5, be conceived to be a cylinder, in which a
piston, A B, moves air tight, and without friction, and let us suppose the distance
of the lower surface, A B, of the piston, from the bottom, D C, of the cylinder, to
be 12 inches. Let air be imagined to be enclosed below the piston, and let us sup-
pose that the elastic force of this air is such as to press the piston with a force
of 16 ozs. From what has already been stated, it is clear that, to maintain the
piston in its place, it is necessary that it should be pressed downward with an
equivalent force of 16 ozs. Now let the force upon the piston be doubled, or let
the piston be loaded with a pressure of 32 ounces. The inward pressure pre-
vailing over the elasticity, the piston will immediately be forced toward D C,
but. will cease to move at a certain distance, A B, fig. 6, from the bottom. Now,
if this distance A D be measured, it will be found to be exactly 6 inches. The
air has, therefore, contracted itself into half its former dimensions.
200
THE ATMOSPHERE.
Since the piston is sustained in the position represented in fig. 6, it follows
that the elasticity of the air beneath it is equivalent to the weight of the piston,
A B ; and, therefore, that the air included in the cylinder acquires double its
original elasticity when it is compressed into half its original bulk.
Let the piston be now loaded with three times its original weight, or 48
ounces ; it will be observed to descend into the cylinder, and further to com-
press the air, until its distance from the bottom is reduced to 4 inches. At
that distance it will rest, being balanced by the increased elasticity of the air :
this air is now compressed into one third of its original bulk, and it has three
times its original elastic force.
In the same manner, in whatever proportion the weight of the piston be
augmented, in the same proportion will the distance from the bottom at which
it will rest in equilibrium be diminished, and, consequently, the elastic force of
the air is increased in the same proportion as the space into which it is com-
pressed is diminished.
Let us, again, suppose the piston to be loaded with sixteen ounces, and to
be balanced, as in fig. 5, by the resistance of the air at 12 inches from the bot-
tom of the cylinder. But let us also suppose the cylinder continued upward
to a height exceeding 24 inches ; let the weight upon the piston be now re-
duced to eight ounces. Since the elasticity of the air beneath the piston was
capable of supporting sixteen ounces, it will now prevail against the dimin-
ished pressure of eight ounces. The piston will continue to rise in the cylin-
der until the elasticity of the air is so far diminished by expansion that it is
capable of supporting no more than eight ounces ; the piston will then remain
in equilibrium. If the height of the piston above the bottom be now measured,
it will be found to be 24 inches, that is, double its former height ; the air has,
therefore, expanded to double its former dimensions, and is reduced to half its
former elasticity.
In like manner it may be shown that if the weight upon the piston were re-
duced to four ounces, or a fourth of its original amount, the piston Avould rise to four
times its original height, or 48 inches, before it would be capable of balancing
the reduced elasticity of the air. Thus, by expanding to four times its primi-
tive dimensions, the elasticity of the air is reduced to one fourth of its primitive
amount.
By like experiments, it is easy to see how the general law may be estab-
lished. In whatever proportion the weight of the piston may be increased or
diminished, in the same proportion exactly will the space filled by the air
which balances it be diminished or increased.
The preceding illustration has been selected with a view rather to make the )
property itself intelligible, than as a practical experimental proof of it. The {
use of pistons moveable in cylinders is attended with inconvenience in cases )
of this kind, arising from the effects of friction, and the difficulties of making \
due allowance for them. There is, however, another method of bringing the )
law to the test of experiment, which is not less direct, and is more satisfactory. {
Let A B C D, fig. 7, be a glass tube curved at one end, B C, and having (
the short leg, C D, furnished with a stop-cock at its extremity ; let the leg B A ^
be more than 60 inches in length. The stop-cock D being opened so as to ?
allow a free communication with the air, and the mouth A of the longer leg
being also open, let as much mercury be poured into the tube as will till the
curved part B C, and rise to a small height in each leg. By the principles of
hydrostatics, the surfaces of the mercury E and F will stand at the same level.
Let the stop-cock D be now closed, the levels E F will still remain undis-
turbed. When the stop-cock D was opened, the surface F sustained a pres-
sure equal to the weight of a column of air continued from F upward as far as
THE ATMOSPHERE.
201
the atmosphere extends. But the stop-cock D being closed, the effect of the
weight of all the air above that point is intercepted ; and, consequently, the
surface F can sustain no pressure arising from weight, except the amount of
the weight of the small quantity of air included between F and D, which is
altogether insignificant. But the air thus included presses on the surface F
by its elasticity ; and the amount of this pressure is equal to the force which
confined the air within the space F D before the stop-cock was closed : but
this force was the weight of the column of atmosphere above D ; and hence it
appears, that the elastic force of the air confined in the space D F is equal to
the atmospheric pressure.
Now the other surface, E, the end A of the tube being open, is subject to
the atmospheric pressure. Thus the two surfaces, F and E, of the mercury,
are each subject to a pressure arising from a different quality of atmosphere ;
the one F, being pressed by its elasticity, and the other, E, being pressed by
its weight. These pressures being equal, the surfaces F and E continue at the
same level.
Fig. 7.
Fig. 8.
The method of ascertaining experimentally, the pressure arising from the
weight of the atmosphere, will be fully explained hereafter ; meanwhile, it is
necessary for our present purpose to assume this pressure as known.
Let us suppose, then, that the atmospheric pressure acting upon the surface
E is the same as would be produced by a column of mercury 30 inches in
height resting on the surface E : the force with which the elasticity of the air
confined in D F presses on the surface F is therefore equal to the weight of a
a column of thirty inches of mercury. The pressure of the atmosphere acting
on the surface E is transmitted by the mercury to the surface F and balances
the elastic force just mentioned. Let the position of the surface F be marked
upon the tube, and let mercury be poured into the longer leg at A. The in-
creased pressure produced by the weight of this mercury will be transmitted
to the surface F, and will prevail over the elasticity of the confined air ; this
surface will therefore rise toward D, compressing the air into a smaller space.
Let the mercury continue to be poured in at A, until the surface F rise to F',
fig. 8, the middle point between the end D of the tube, and its first position
F. The air included is thus compressed into half its former dimensions, and
its elasticity will be measured by the amount of the force with which the sur-
face A is pressed upward against it : this force is the weight of the column of
mercury in the leg B A above the level of F together with the height of the
atmosphere pressing on the top G of the column. Let a horizontal line he
drawn from the surface F', to the leg B A, and let the column G H be meas-
ured ; its height will be found to be accurately 30 inches, and its weight is,
therefore, equal to the atmospheric pressure. The force with which F is
pressed upward is, therefore, equal to twice the atmospheric pressure, or to
double the force with which F, in fig. 7, was pressed upward. Hence it np-
pears that the elasticity of the air confined in the space D F, fig. 8, is double
its former elasticity when filling the space D F', fig. 7. Thus, when the air is
compressed into half its volume its elasticity is doubled.
In like manner, if mercury be poured into the tube A until the air included
in the shorter leg is reduced to a third of its bulk, the compressing force will
be found to be three times the atmospheric pressure, and so on.
That the elasticity of the air which surrounds us is equal to the weight of
the incumbent atmosphere, has been proved incidentally in the preceding ex-
periment. Indeed, this is a proposition the truth of which must appear evi-
dent upon the slightest consideration, and which is manifested by innumerable
familiar effects. If the elastic force of the air around us were less than the
weight of the incumbent atmosphere, it would yield and suffer itself to be com-
pressed until it acquired an elastic force equal to that weight. If it were
greater in amount than the weight of the incumbent atmosphere, it would over-
come that weight, and would press the atmosphere upward until, by expand-
ing, its elasticity were reduced to equality with the weight of the atmosphere,
and these effects are continually going forward.
The incumbent atmosphere is subject to continual fluctuations in weight, as
will hereafter be proved, and the lowest stratum of air which surrounds us is
continually undergoing corresponding contractions and expansions, ever ac-
commodating its elasticity to the pressure which it sustains. Also this stra-
tum of air is itself subject to changes of elasticity from vicissitudes of tempera-
ture proceeding from the earth to which it is contiguous. These changes pro-
duce a necessity for expansion and contraction in it, even while the weight of
the incumbent atmosphere remains unchanged ; but the full development of
this last consideration belongs to the theory of heat rather than to our present
subject.
An open vessel which is commonly said to be empty, is, in fact, filled with
air ; and when any solid or liquid is placed in it, so much of the air is ex-
pelled as occupied the space into which the solid or liquid entered. If such a
vessel be closed by a lid or stopper, the pressure of the external atmosphere
will act upon every part of the exterior surface with an intensity proportionate
to its weight. The air which is enclosed in the vessel will, however, act on
the interior surface with an intensity proportionate to its elasticity. Accord-
ing to what has already been explained, this elasticity is equal to the pressure ;
and, therefore, there is a force tending to press the sides of the vessel outward
exactly equal to the pressure acting on the exterior surface, and tending to
press them inward. These two forces neutralize each other, and the ve.«?t is
circumstanced exactly as if neither of them acted upon it.
When the operation and properties of some pneumatical instruments have
been explained, we shall have occasion to notice many other effects of the
elasticity of air.
r
THE IE¥ PLAIETS.
Indications of a Gap in the Solar System. — Bode's Analogy. — Prediction founded npon it. — Piuzzi
discovers Ceres. — Dr. Olbers discovers Pallas. — Harding discovers Juno. — Dr. Others discovers
Vesta. — Indications afforded by these Bodies of the Truth of Bode's Predictions. — Fragments
of a Broken Planet. — Others probably still undiscovered. — Their Ultra-Zodiacal Motions. — Their
Eccentricities. — They are probably not Globular. — Other Singularities of their Appearance.
•~
THE NEW PLANETS. 205
THE O¥ PLANETS.
AT a very early period of astronomical inquiry it was observed that the
spaces which intervene in the solar system between planet and planet aug-
ment in a double proportion as the planets recede from the sun. Thus the
space between Mercury and Venus is only half that which intervenes between
Venus and the earth. The latter, again, is only half that which separates this
planet from Mars. In like manner, the space between Jupiter and Saturn is
only half the space between Saturn and Herschel. To this remarkable law,
however, a conspicuous exception was noticed by Kepler, and was more em-
phatically insisted upon and more strictly demonstrated in the latter part
of the last century, by Bode of Berlin. While the spaces which successively
intervene between the planets Mercury, Venus, the earth, and Mars, are con-
tinually in the proportion of one to two, that which intervenes between Mars
and Jupiter, instead of being as it ought to be, in accordance with the law thus
indicated — double the space between Mars and the earth — is, in fact, nearly
six times that space. A planet, therefore, which would move between Mars
and Jupiter, at a distance beyond Mars equal to twice the distance of Mars
from the earth, would complete the system ; for then there would be between
such a planet and Jupiter twice the space which would intervene between it
and Mars. The presence of such a planet would then remove all exception in
the system to this law of increasing distance. Professor Bode ventured to
predict that a planet would at some future period be discovered revolving in
that position ; and even if no such planet were discovered, he maintained that
we should be justified in the inference that, at some former epoch, a planet did
exist in such a position.
There is an instinctive faith in the harmony and universality of nature's
laws ; and when we behold in any of them a glaring exception, we are led at
once to anticipate that such exception is only apparent, and that by increased
knowledge we shall discover that the law is in reality universal.
This remarkable prediction, as may be easily imagined, attracted the atten-
tion of astronomers to those quarters of the firmament where the suspected (
planets ought to be seen ; and on the first day of the present century, PIAZZI,
an Italian astronomer, had his attention engaged by a small star of the fifth
magnitude, which he thought presented peculiar appearances. He observed
it accordingly from night to night, and soon found that it had a motion among
the fixed stars, which was incompatible with the supposition that it could be a
body of that class. In short, he soon discovered that this object was a true
planet, and afterward applying to the observations made upon it the usual
methods of calculation, he found that it moved in the solar system round the
sun in the space between Mars and Jupiter, in such a position that its distance
from the latter was double its distance from the former. In short, it appeared
that this planet filled the vacant place.
On the 28th of March, in the following year, Dr. OLBERS, of Bremen, dis-
covered the planet PALLAS, moving nearly at the same distance. In Septem-
ber, 1803, HARDING, also at BREMEN, discovered JUNO ; and finally, on the
29th of March, 1807, Dr. OLBERS discovered the fourth new planet, VESTA.
Thus within the first five years of the present century, four new members of
the solar system were discovered, presenting, among other anomalous circum-
stances, the spectacle of four planets equidistant from the sun, and therefore
all equally filling the vacant place declared to exist in the system by Kepler
and Bode. As these four planets move nearly at the same distance from the
sun, they also have nearly equal periods.
The analogy prevailing between the distances of the planets, indicated by
Bode and Kepler, justified the expectation of the discovery of a single planet :
how, then, are we to reconcile the principle indicated by this analogy with the
known existence of four such bodies 1 This difficulty has been attempted to
be removed by the hypothesis that the four new planets are, in fact, fragments
of a single planet which has been broken ! But how, it may be asked, could
such a catastrophe as the fracture of a planet be brought about ? To this it is
answered that there are two causes — the possibility and reality of which are
not disputed — either of which might produce such an effect. The volcanic
phenomena developed on our own globe indicate to us the existence of internal
causes which may easily be supposed to acquire sulficient energy to cause the
explosion of the planet. The intersection, on the other hand, of the solar sys-
tem, by innumerable comets rushing among the planets constantly and in every
direction, renders the collision of such a body with a planet a possible occur-
rence. Either of these causes, then, being sufficient to produce the supposed
catastrophe, and both being possible, the next question to be settled is, whether
the circumstances attending the appearance, condition, and motion, of the new
planets, are such as would attend the fragments of a single planet exploded or
broken by either of these causes.
In 't'e first place, then, it is evident that the magnitude of these four bodies
recently discovered afford a strong presumption in favor of such a supposition.
Their magnitudes are so minute, that astronomical observers as yet have been
unable to agree as to their dimensions ; but it seems certain that their diameters
do not amount to more than a few hundred miles. They are therefore not only
incomparably smaller than any of the other planets, but even smaller than the
satellites. It is estimated that the bulk of VESTA does not exceed the twenty-
five thousandth part of the earth. HERSCHEL states that the diameter of CERES
) cannot much exceed a hundred and fifty miles, and that that of JUNO is under
( one hundred miles. It is calculated that the aggregate of the volumes of all
) these four planets united would not exceed the twenty-fifth pnrt of the bulk of
\ our globe.
This minuteness of size is evidently a circumstance that might naturally be
\ expected in the fragments of a single planet ; and as from their smallness it is
THE NEW PLANETS. 207
difficult to observe these planets even by the aid of telescopes, it seems proba-
ble there may be other fragments revolving round the sun too minute to be
discovered.
If a planet were broken into fragments, whether by external collision or by
internal explosion, it is demonstrable that the fragments into which it would
be resolved would severally revolve round the sun as independent planets.
Their orbits would be all nearly at the same distance from the sun as the orbit
of the original planet. These orbits, however, would be likely to differ from
that of the original planet in some respects. It is consistent with mechanical
laws that these orbits should some of them be inclined at a considerable angle to
the general plane of the solar system. It is also probable that these orbits or
some of them, might be more eccentric in their elliptical character than the
planetary orbits generally are. Now we find on examining the orbits of the
four new planets, that they partake of these characters. They are inclined to
the ecliptic at angles so considerable that they are the only planets which tran-
scend the limits of the zodiac, and are thence called ultra-zodiacal planets. The
eccentricities of some of their orbits are three or four times greater than those
of the planets generally.
It is also demonstrable that if a planet were broken by any cause the orbits of
its fragments which would form independent planets would all pass through a
common point. Now this is a character which is also found to attach to the
four new planets generally.
These circumstances would themselves afford a presumption so strong in
support of the supposition that the new planets are in fact fragments of a sin-
gle planet that has been broken as to amount almost to a moral certainty
— but they are not the only ones that favor this hypothesis.
Appearances have been observed upon these planets which render it ex-
tremely probable if not certain that they are not like the other bodies of the sys-
tem globular but that they are irregular in their form, having corners and angu-
lar extremities. This fact has been indicated by the sudden diminution of
their light when the angular points pass the line of vision.
It is remarkable that VESTA, which is the smallest of the four in its absolute
magnitude, appears, nevertheless, the most brilliant, having the lustre of a star
of the fifth or sixth magnitude. SCHROTER, for this reason, was led to the
supposition that VESTA was a self-luminous body. The three other planets,
which are greater in magnitude than Vesta, have the appearance, nevertheless,
of stars of the ninth and tenth magnitude. CERES would seem to be extremely
irregular in its shape, since its light is very variable ; sometimes it is reddish
and vivid, sometimes whitish and pale.
The atmospheric circumstances attending these bodies are very remarkable.
CERES and PALLAS, especially, seem to be enveloped in very dense atmo-
spheres, which 'extend to a height from their surface from twelve to fifteen
times greater than ours.
The light of Vesta is more intense and white than that of any other of the
new planets. It also differs from them in not being surrounded by any nebu-
losity. Schroter affirms that he saw it several times with the naked eye, a
circumstance which must have arisen from the brilliant light reflected from its
surface not being obscured by any nebulous envelope.
The planet Juno subtends to the eye, when nearest to the earth, an angle
of three seconds. It is of a reddish color ; and Schroter discovered around it
an atmosphere which he considered to be more dense than any of the atmo-
spheres of the old planets. Remarkable and sudden changes were observed
in the light of this planet, which Schroter first attributed to atmospheric phe-
| nomena upon it, but which have been since ascribed to great irregularity in
I
208
THE NEW PLANETS.
its form. He imagined also that its appearance afforded indications of a diur-
nal rotation in twenty-seven hours : this, however, has not been confirmed by
subsequent observation.
The apparent magnitude of Ceres is about six seconds : it is an object of a
ruddy color, appears about the size of a star of the eighth or ninth magnitude, and
is invisible to the naked eye. It is surrounded with a dense atmosphere, and
shows an ill-defined disk. Schroter found, by a great number of observations,
that the height of its atmosphere amounted to nearly seven hundred miles — that
it was very dense near the surface ®f the planet, and more attenuated at greater
heights — and that it was subject to changes which produced great variations in
the apparent size of the planet.
Sir William Herschel, about the year 1802, immediately after the discovery
of Ceres and Pallas, undertook a series of observations with his powerful re-
flecting telescopes, with a view of ascertaining whether either of these planets
were attended by satellites. Many minute stars appeared near the disk of
Ceres, but none exhibited that change of position which could be supposed to
belong to a satellite. His observations fully corroborated those of Schroter.
He says that when viewed with a power of 550, Ceres is surrounded with a
strong haziness ; the breadth of the coma beyond the disk may amount to the
extent of a diameter of the disk, which is not very sharply defined. Were the
whole coma and star taken together, they would be at least three times as
large as the star. The coma was very dense near the nucleus, but lost itself
pretty abruptly on the outside, though a gradual diminution was still very per-
ceptible.
The planet Pallas has a ruddy appearance, but not so much so as Ceres.
It is surrounded also by a nebulosity, but not so extensive. The height of its
atmosphere, according to Schroter, is about 450 miles, being two thirds of that
of Ceres. The light of the planet is eminently subject to those sudden varia-
tions which have been taken to indicate irregularity of form.
Sir William Herschel says, in speaking of Pallas : " I cannot, with the ut-
most attention, and under the most favorable circumstances, perceive any sharp
termination which might denote a disk ; it is, rather, what I would call a nu-
cleus. The appearance of Pallas is cometary, the disk, if it has any, being
ill-defined. When I see it to the best advantage, it appears like a much-com-
pressed, extremely-small, but ill-defined, planetary nebula. With a twenty-
foot reflector, power 477, I see Pallas well. I perceive a very small disk,
with a coma of some extent about it, the diameter of which may amount to six
or seven times that of the disk alone." These observations were made in 1802.
Great diversity of opinion has prevailed respecting the actual diameter of
the new planets, Herschel estimating all of them to be considerably under 200 <
miles, while Schroter maintains that some of them are as large as our moon. \
This diversity is doubtless produced by the extreme smallness of the planets, '
their great distance, and the undefined appearance they have, owing to the ]
nebulosity which surrounds them.
We shall have occasion again to notice the theory which explains them by ]
the supposition that they are fragments of a broken planet, when we shall refer <
to the subject of meteoric stones.
r
THE TIDES.
Correspondence between the Tides and Phases of the Moon shown by Kepler. — Erroneous popular
Notion of the Moon's Influence. — Actual Manner in which the Moon operates. — Influence of the
Sun. — Combined Action of the Sun and Moon. — Spring Tides. — Counter-action of the Sun and
Moon. — Neap Tides. — Priming and Lagging of the Tides. — Discussions at the British Associa-
tion.— Whewell's Researches. — Effect of Continents and Islands on the Tides. — General Progress
of the Great Tidal Wave.— Velocity of the Tidal Wave.— Eange of the Tide.
THE TIDES.
THE phenomena of the tides of the ocean are too remarkable and important
to the social and commercial interests of mankind, not to have attracted notice
at an early period in the progress of knowledge. The intervals between the
epochs of high and low water everywhere corresponding with the intervals be-
tween the passage of the moon over the meridian above and below the horizon,
suggested naturally the physical connexion between these two effects, and in-
dicated the probability of the cause of the tides being found in the motion of
the moon.
KEPLER developed this idea, and demonstrated the close connexion of these
phenomena ; but it was not until the theory of GRAVITATION was established
by Newton, and its laws fully developed, that all the circumstances of the tides
were clearly explained, and shown incontestably to depend on the influence of
the sun and moon.
There are few subjects in physical science about which there prevail moie
erroneous notions among those who are but a little informed, than with re-
spect to the tides. A common idea is, that the attraction of the moon draws
the waters of the earth toward that side of the globe on which the moon hap-
pens to be placed, and that consequently they are heaped up on that side, so
that the oceans and seas acquire there a greater depth than elsewhere ; and
thus it is attempted to be established that high water will take place under, or
nearly under, the moon. But this neither corresponds with the fact, nor, if it
did, would it explain it. High water is not produced merely under the moon,
but is equally produced upon those parts most removed from the moon. Sup-
pose a meridian of the earth so selected, that, if it were continued beyond the
earth, its plane would pass through the moon ; then we find that, subject to cer-
tain modifications, a great tidal wave, or what is called htgh water, will be formed
on both sides of this meridian ; that is to say, on the side next the moon, and
on the side remote from the moon. As the moon mores in her monthly course
round the earth, these two great tidal waves follow her. They are, of
212 THE TIDES.
course, separated from each other by half the circumference of the globe.
As the globe revolves with its diurnal motion upon its axis, every part of its
surface passes successively under these tidal waves ; and at all such parts as
they pass under them, there is the phenomenon of high water. Hence it is
that in all places there are two tides daily, having an interval of about twelve
hours between them. Now if the common notion of the cause of the tides
were well founded, there would be only one tide daily ; viz., that which would
take place when the moon is at or near the meridian.
That the moon's attraction upon the earth simply considered would not ex-
plain the tides, is easily shown. Let us suppose that the whole mass of mat-
ter on the earth, including the waters which partially cover it, were attracted
equally by the moon ; they would then be equally drawn toward that body, and
no reason would exist why they should be heaped up under the moon ; for if they
were drawn with the same force as that with which the solid globe of the earth
under them is drawn, there would be no reason for supposing that the waters
would have a greater tendency to collect toward the moon than the solid bot-
tom of the ocean on which they rest. In short, the whole mass of the earth,
solid and fluid, being drawn with the same force, would equally tend toward
the moon ; and its parts, whether solid or fluid, would preserve among them-
selves the same relative position as if they were not attracted at all.
When we dbserve, however, in a mass composed of various particles of mat-
ter, that the relative arrangement of these particles is disturbed, some being
driven in certain directions more than others, the inference is, that the compo-
nent parts of such a mass must be placed under the operation of different
forces ; those which tend more than others in a certain direction being driven
with a proportionally greater force. Such is, in fact, the case with the earth,
placed under the attraction of the moon. NEWTON showed that the law of
gravitation is such, that its attraction increases as the distance of the attracted
object diminishes, and diminishes as the distance of the attracted object in-
creases. The exact proportion of this change of energy of the attractive
force, is technically expressed by stating that it is the inverse proportion of the
square of the distance ; the meaning of which is, that the attraction which any
body like the moon would exercise at any proposed distance, is four times that
which it would exercise at twice the distance ; nine times that which it would
exert at three times the distance ; one fourth of that which it would exercise
at half the distance, and one ninth of that which it would exercise at one third
the distance, and so on. Thus we have an arithmetical rule, by which we can
with certainty and precision say how the attraction of the moon will vary with any
change of its distance from the attracted object. Let us see how this will be
brought to bear upon the explanation of the effect of the moon's attraction upon
the earth.
Let A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, represent the globe of the earth, and, to simplify
the explanation, let us first suppose the entire surface of the globe to be covered
with water. Let M, the moon, be placed at the distance K L from the nearest point
of the surface of the earth. Now it will be very apparent that the various points
of the earth's surface are at different distances from the moon, M. A and G are
more remote than H ; B F still more remote ; C and E more distant again,
and D more remote than all. The attraction which the moon exercises at H
is, therefore, greater than that which it exercises at A and G, and still greater
than that which it produces Rt B and F ; and the attraction which it exercises
at D is least of all. Now this attraction equally afffects matter in every state
and condition. It affects the particles of fluid as well as solid matter, but there
is this difference between these effects ; that where it acts upon solid matter,
the component parts of which are at different distances from it, and therefore I
subject to different attractions, it will not disturb the relative arrangement of
these particles, since such disturbances or disarrangements are prevented by
the cohesion which characterizes a solid body ; but this is not the case with
fluid, the particles of which are mobile, and which, when solicited by different
forces, will have their relative arrangements disturbed in a corresponding
manner.
The attraction which the moon exercises upon the shell of water which is
collected immediately under it near the point Z, is greater than that which it
exercises upon the solid mass of the globe at H and D ; consequently there
will be a greater tendency of this attraction to draw the fluid which rests upon
the surface at H toward the moon, than to draw the solid mass of the earth
which is more distant.
As the fluid, by its nature, is free to obey this excess of attraction, it will
necessarily heap itself up in a pile or wave at H, forming a more convex pro-
tuberance, as represented in the figure between R and I. Thus high water
will take place at H, immediately under the moon. The water which thus
collects at H, will necessarily flow from the regions B and F, where, there-
fore, there will be a diminished quantity of water in the same proportion.
But let us now consider what happens to that part of the earth, D, most re-
mote from the moon. Here the waters being more remote from the moon than
the solid mass of the earth under them, will be less attracted ; and consequent-
ly will have a less tendency to gravitate toward the moon. The solid mass of
the earth, D H, will, as it were, recede from the waters at N, in virtue of the
excess of attraction, leaving these waters behind it, which will thus be heaped
up at N, so as to form a convex protuberance between L and K, similar, ex-
actly to that which we have already described between R and I. As the dif-
ference between the attraction of the moon on the waters at Z and the solid
earth under the waters, is nearly the same as the difference between its attrac-
tion on the latter and upon the waters at N, it follows that the height of the
fluid protuberances at Z and N are equal. In other words, the height of the
tides on opposite sides of the earth, the one being under the moon and the other
most remote from it, are equal.
Now from this explanation, it will, we trust, be apparent, that the cause of
the tides, so far as the action of the moon is concerned, is not, as is vulgarly
supposed, due to the mere attraction of the earth ; since, if that attraction
were equal in all the component parts of the earth, there would assuredly be
no tides. We are to look for the cause, then, not in the attraction of the moon,
but in the inequality of its attraction on different parts of the earth. The greater
this inequality is, the greater will be the tides. Hence, as the moon is sub-
ject to a slight variation of distance from the earth, it will follow, that when it
is at its least distance, or at the point called perigee, the tides will be greatest ; and
214
THE TIDES.
when it is the greatest distance, or at the point called apogee, the tides will be least ;
not because the entire attraction of the moon in the former case is greater than
in the latter, but because the diameter of the globe bearing a greater proportion
to the lesser distance than the greater, there will be a greater inequality of at-
traction.
It will doubtless occur to those who bestow on these observations a little
reflection, that all which we have stated in reference to the effect produced by
the attraction of the moon upon the earth, will also be applicable to the attrac-
tion of the sun. This is undoubtedly true ; but in the case of the sun the
effects are modified, in some very important respects, as will readily be seen.
The sun is at four hundred times a greater distance than the moon, and the
actual amount of its attraction on the earth would, on that account, be one hun-
dred and sixty thousand times less than that of the moon ; but the mass of the
sun exceeds that of the moon in a much greater ratio than that of one hundred
and sixty thousand to one. It therefore possesses a much greater attracting
power in virtue of its mass, compared with the moon, than it loses by its in-
creased distance. The effect is, that it exercises upon the earth an attraction
enormously greater than the moon exercises. Now, if the simple amount of its
attraction were, as is commonly supposed, the cause of the tides, the sun ought
to produce a vastly greater tide than the moon. The reverse is, however, the
case, and the cause is easily explained. Let it be remembered that the tides
are due solely to the inequality of the attraction on different sides of the earth,
and the greater that inequality is, the greater will be the tides, and the less that
inequality is, the less will be the tides.
Now in the case of the sun, its total distance from the earth is one hundred
millions of miles, and the difference between its distance from one side of the
earth, and from the other, is only eight thousand miles, or about one hundred
and twenty thousandth part of the whole distance. The inequality of the at-
traction of the sun, therefore, on different sides of the earth will be in the pro-
portion of the square of the numbers one hundred and twenty thousand and one
hundred and twenty thousand and one to each other, a proportion which it will
be evident, is extremely small. But in the case of the moon, the distance
of that object being about two hundred and forty thousand miles, or thirty
diameters of the earth, the difference between its distance from one side to
THE TIDES.
215
the other will be in the proportion of thirty to thirty-one ; and the difference I
of the attraction will be in the proportion of the squares of those numbers. *
In the case, therefore, of the sun, the difference of the distances to the whole,
then, is in proportion of one to one hundred and twenty thousand ; whereas,
in the case of the moon it is in the proportion of one to thirty.
Still, although the difference of the attractions of the sun on different sides
of the earth is infinitely less than those of the moon, it is not imperceptible ;
and the sun does actually produce sensible tides on opposite sides of the earth,
as the moon does. When the sun and moon, therefore, are either on the same
side of the earth, or on the opposite sides of the earth ; in other words, when
it is new or full moon, then their effects in producing tides are combined, and
the spring tide is produced ; the height of which is equal to the solar and lunar
tides taken together. These positions are represented in the preceding dia-
gram, where S is the sun, A the moon when new, and B the moon when full.
Hence it is that, at the epochs of new and full moons, we have tides of ex-
traordinary elevation, called spring tides.
On the other hand, when the sun and moon are separated from each other
by a distance of one fourth of the heavens, that is, when the moon is in the
quarters, the effect of the solar tide has a tendency to diminish that of the lunar
tide. This position is represented in the annexed diagram.
If Q and R represent positions of the moon, and 5 that of the sun at the
epochs of the quarters, then the lunar tides would cause the waters to be col-
lected at Z and N; whereas the solar tides would take place at B and F. The
tendency, therefore, of the sun, would be to draw the water from Z and N
toward B and F; and to the same extent would diminish the effect of the
moon's attraction. The lunar tides would be less, under these circumstances,
than in other positions of the moon. These have, therefore, been called the
neap tides.
If physical effects followed immediately, without any appreciable interval
of time, the operation of their causes, then the tidal wave produced by the
moon would be on the meridian of the earth directly under and opposite to
that luminary ; and the same would be true of the solar tides. But the waters
of the globe have, in common with all other matter, the property of inertia, and
it takes a certain interval of time to impress upon them a certain change of
position. Hence it follows that the tidal wave produced by the moon is not
formed immediately under that body but follows it at a certain distance. In
consequence of this, the tide raised by the moon does not take place for 2 or 3
hours after the moon passes the meridian ; and as the action of the sun is still
216
THE TIDES.
*o*"^-^»
more feeble, there is a still greater interval between the transit of the sun and
occurrence of the solar tide.
But besides these circumstances, the tide is affected by other causes. It is
not the separate effect of either of these bodies, but to the combined effect of
both, and at every period of the month, the time of actual high water is either
accelerated or retarded by the sun. In the first and third quarters of the moon,
the solar tide is westward of the lunar one ; and, consequently, the actual high
water which is the result of the combination of the two waves will be to the
westward of the place it would have if the moon acted alone, and the time of
high water will therefore be accelerated. In the second and fourth quarters
the general effect of the sun is, for a similar reason, to produce a retardation
in the time of high water. This effect produced by the sun and moon com-
bined, is what is commonly called the priming and lagging of the tides.
The highest spring tides occur when the moon passes the meridian about
an hour after the sun ; for then the maximum effect of the two bodies coincides.
The subject of the tides has of late years received much attention from sev-
eral scientific investigators in Europe. The discussions held at the annual
meetings of the British association for the advancement of science, on this sub-
ject, have led to the development of much useful information. The labors of
Professor Whewell have been especially valuable on these questions. Sir
John Lubbock has also published a valuable treatise upon it. To trace the re-
sults of these investigations in all the details which would render them clear and
intelligible, would greatly transcend the necessary limits of this discourse. We
shall, however, briefly advert to a few of the most remarkable points connected
with these questions.
The apparent time of high water at any port in the afternoon of the day of
new or full moon, is what is usually called the establishment of the port. Pro-
fessor Whewell calls this the vulgar establishment, and he calls the corrected es-
tablishment the mean of all the intervals of the tides and transit of half a month.
This corrected establishment is consequently the luni-tidal interval correspond-
ing to the day on which the moon passes the meridian at noon or midnight.
The two tides immediately following another, or the tides of the day and
night, vary, both in height and time of high water, at any particular place with
the distance of the sun and moon from the equator. As the vertex of the tide
wave always tends to place itself vertically under the luminary which produ-
ces it, it is evident that of two consecutive tides that which happens when the
moon is nearest the zenith or nadir will be greater than the other ; and, conse-
quently, when the moon's declination is of the same denomination as the lati-
tude of the place, the tide which corresponds to the upper transit will be
greater than the opposite one, and vice versa, the differences being greatest
when the sun and moon are in opposition, and in opposite tropics. This is
called the diurnal inequality, because its cycle is one day ; but it varies greatly
at different places, and its laws, which appear to be governed by local circum-
stances, are very imperfectly known.
We have now described the principal phenomena that would take place
were the earth a sphere, and covered entirely with a fluid of uniform depth.
But the actual phenomena of the tides are infinitely more complicated. From
the interruption of the land, and the irregular form and depth of the ocean,
combined with many other disturbing circumstances, among which are the in-
ertia of the waters, the friction on the bottom and sides, the narrowness and
length of the channels, the action of the wind, currents, difference of atmo-
spheric pressure, &c., &c., great variation takes place in the mean times
and heights of high water at places differently situated ; and the inequali-
ties above alluded to, as depending on the parallax of the moon, her posi-
THE TIDES.
217
tion with respect to the sun, and the declination of the two bodies, are in many
cases altogether obliterated by the effects of the disturbing influences, or can
only be detected by the calculation and comparison of long series of observa-
tions.
By reason of these disturbing causes, it becomes a matter of great difficulty to
trace the propagation of the tide wave, and the connexion of the tides in different
parts of the world. In the Philosophical Transactions for 1832, Sir John Lub-
bock published a map of the world, in which he inserted the times of high
water at new and full moon at a great number of places on the globe, collected
from various sources, as works on navigation, voyages, sailing directions, &c.,
and in order that the march of the tide wave might be 'traced more readily, the
times were expressed in Greenwich time, as well as the time of the place. In
the same Transactions for 1833, Mr. Whewell prosecuted this subject at
greater length, and availing himself of a-priori considerations, as well as of a
mass of information collected in the hydrographer's office at the admiralty, in-
serted in the map a series of cotidal lines, or lines along which high water
takes place at the same instant of time. But these cotidal lines, as Sir John
Lubbock remarks, are entirely hypothetical ; for we have few opportunities of
determining the time of high water at a distance from the coast, though this is
sometimes possible by means of a solitary island, such as St. Helena. — Lub-
bocft's Elementary Treatise on the Tides, 1839.
According to Mr. Whewell's deduction, the general progress of the great
tide wave may be thus described ; it is only in the Southern ocean, between
the latitudes of 30° and 70°, that a zone of water exists of sufficient extent to
allow of the tide-wave being formed. Suppose, then, a line of contemporary
tides, or cotidal line, to be formed in the Indian ocean, as the theory supposes,
that is to say, in the direction of the meridian, and at a certain distance to the
eastward of the meridian in which the moon is. As this tide-wave passes the
Cape of Good Hope, it sends off a derivative undulation, which advances
northward up the Atlantic ocean, preserving always a certain proportion of its
original magnitude and velocity. In travelling along this ocean the wave assumes
a curved form, the convex part keeping near the middle of the ocean, and ahead
of the branches, which, owing to the shallower waters, lag behind on the Amer-
ican and African coasts, so that the cotidal lines have always a tendency to make
very oblique angles with the shore, and, in fact, run parallel to it for great dis-
tances. The main tide, Mr. Whewell conceives, after reaching the Orkneys,
will move forward in the sea bounded by the shores of Norway and Sibe-
ria on one side and those of Greenland and America on the other, will pass
the pole of the earth and finally end its course on the shores in the neighbor-
hood of Behring's straits. It may even propagate its influence through the
straits, and modify the tides of the North Pacific. But a branch tide is sent
off from this main tide into the German ocean ; and this, entering between
the Orkneys and the coast of Norway, brings the tide to the east coast of Eng-
land and to the coasts of Holland, Denmark, and Germany. Continuing its
course, part of it passes through the strait of Dover and meets in the British
channel the tide from the Atlantic, which arrives on the coast of Europe
twelve hours later ; but in passing along the English coast, another part of it
is reflected from the projecting land of Norfolk upon the north coast of Ger-
many, and again meets the tide ..wave on the shores of Denmark. Owing to
this interference of different tide-waves, the tides are almost entirely oblitera-
ted on the coast of Jutland, where their place is supplied by continual high
water.
In the Pacific ocean the tides are very small; but there are not sufficient,
observations to determine the forms and progress of the cotidal lines. Off Cape
218 THE TIDES.
Horn, and round the whole shore of Terra-del-Fuego, from the western ex-
tremity of Magellan's strait to Staten Island, it is very remarkable that the
tidal wave, instead of following the moon in its diurnal course, travels to the
eastward. This, however, is a partial phenomenon ; and a little farther to the
north of the last-named places, the tides set to the north and west. In the
Mediterranean and Baltic seas the tides are inconsiderable, but exhibit irregu-
larities for which it is difficult to account. The Indian ocean appears to have
high water on all sides at once, though not in the central parts at the same
time.
Since the tide* on our coast are derived from the oscillations produced under
the direct agency of the sun and moon in the Southern ocean, and require a
certain interval of time for their transfer, it follows that, in general, the tide is
not due to the moon's transit immediately preceding, but is regulated by the
position which the sun and the moon had when they determined the primary
tide. The time elapsed between the original formation of the tide and its ap-
pearance at any place is called the age of the tide, and sometimes, after Ber-
noulli, the retard. On the shores of Spain and North America, the tide is a
day and a half old ; in the port of London, it appears to be two days and a half
old when it arrives.
VELOCITY OF THE TIDE WAVES.
In the open ocean the crest of tide travels with enormous velocity. If the
whole surface were uniformly covered with water, the summit of the tide wave,
being mainly governed by the moon, would everywhere follow the moon's
transit at the same interval of time, and consequently travel round the earth
in a little more than twenty-four hours. But the circumference of the earth
at the equator being about 25,000 miles, the velocity of propagation would
therefore be about 1,000 miles per hour. The actual velocity is, perhaps, no-
where equal to this and is very different at different places. In latitude 60°
south, where there is no interruption from land (excepting the narrow promonto-
ry of Patagonia), the tide wave will complete a revolution in a lunar day, and
consequently travel at the rate of 670 miles an hour. On examining Mr.
Whewell's map of cotidal lines, it will be seen that the great tide wave from
the Southern ocean travels from the Cape of Good Hope to the Azores in
about twelve hours, and from the Azores to the southernmost part of Ireland in
about three hours more. In the Atlantic, the hourly velocity in some cases ap-
pears to be 10° latitude, or near 700 miles, which is almost equal to the velocity
of sound through the air. From the south point of Ireland to the north point
of Scotland, the time is eight hours, and the velocity about 160 miles an hour
along the shore. On the eastern coast of Britain, and in shallower water, the
velocity is less. From Buchanness to Sunderland it is about sixty miles an
hour ; from Scarborough to Cromer, thirty-five miles ; from the north Foreland
to London, thirty miles ; from London to Richmond, thirteen miles an hour in
that part of the river. (Whewell, Phil. Trans. 1833 and 1836.) It is scarce-
ly necessary to remind the reader that the above velocities refer to the trans-
mission of the undulation, and are entirely different from the velocity of the
current to which the tide gives rise in shallow water.
RANGE OF THE TIDE.
The difference of level between high and low water is affected by various (
causes, but chiefly by the configuration of the land, and is very different at dif- (
rent places. In deep inbends of the shore, open in the direction of the tide <
'J
THE TIDES. 219
wave and gradually contracting like a funnel, the convergence of water causes
a very great increase of the range. Hence the very high tides in the Bristol
channel, the bay of St. Malo, and the bay of Fundy, where the tide is said to
rise sometimes to the height of one hundred feet. Promontories, under certain
circumstances, exert an opposite influence, and diminish the magnitude of the
tide. The observed ranges are also very anomalous. At certain places on the
southeast coast of Ireland, the range is not more than three feet, while at a
little distance on each side it becomes twelve or thirteen feet ; and it is re-
markable that these low tides occur directly opposite the Bristol channel, where
(at Chepstow) the difference between high and low water amounts to sixty feet.
In the middle of the Pacific it amounts to only two or three feet. At the Lon-
don docks, the average range is about 22 feet ; at Liverpool, 15.5 feet ; at
Portsmouth, 12.5 feet ; at Plymouth, also 12.5 feet ; at Bristol, 33 feet.
A great number of observations of the tides at the port of Brest during the
last century were discussed by Laplace in the Mecanique Celeste ; but in order
to determine the motion of the tide wave, and separate the general laws of the
phenomena from local irregularities, it is necessary to have regular series of
observations made at different parts of the ocean. Until very recently,
theory may be said to have been in advance of observation ; but of late years
the subject has received great attention, and at the present time a more per-
fect theory of hydrodynamics appears to be necessary for the physical ex-
planation of the phenomena. In 1829, Sir John Lubbock undertook the dis-
cussion of the tide observations which are made at the London docks, with the
view of obtaining correct tables for predicting the time and height of the tides
for the British Almanac. The results, which were published in the Philo-
sophical Transactions for 1831, are deduced from a series of upward of thirteen
thousand observations during a period of nineteen years, and are of great im-
portance, both as affording materials for the construction of tide-tables, and as
pointing out the defects of the equilibrium theory, with which they were accu-
rately compared. 'In some of the subsequent volumes of the Transactions the
author has continued his investigations, and has also published separately an
account of Bernoulli's Traite sur le Flux et Reflux, and an elementary trea-
tise which appeared in 1839. In the Philosophical Transactions for 1833, Mr.
Whewell gave an Essay toward a first Approximation to a Map of Cotidal Lines,
which has been followed by a series of interesting papers in the subsequent
volumes. Mr Whe well's researches have been chiefly directed to the deter-
mination of the following points : First, the motion of the tide wave at differ-
ent parts of the ocean ; secondly, the comparison of the observed laws at
different places with the theory ; and lastly, the laws of diurnal inequality. In
1834 the British Association procured an extensive series of observations to
be made on the coasts of Britain and Ireland at five hundred and thirty-nine sta-
tions of the coast guard. These were repeated at the same places in June,
1835 ; and at the request of the British government, simultaneous observations
were made by the other maritime powers of Europe and the United States. '
The number of stations in America was twenty- eight, extending from the mouth \
of the Mississippi to Nova Scotia ; and the number on the continent of Europe (
one hundred and one, between the straits of Gibraltar and the North cape of ,
Norway. The results of these observations reduced under Mr. Whewell's su- J
perintendence were published in the Philosophical Transactions for 1836 ; and ,
they are of great importance, not only as affording a far more precise determi- j
nation of the progress of the tide wave and the forms of the cotidal line on the <
coasts of Europe and North America than previously existed, but as furnishing j
more correct data for the construction of the tide-tables.
Besides the numerous causes of irregularity depending on the local circum- j
220
THE TIDES.
stances, the tides are also affected by the state of the atmosphere. At Brest,
the height of high water varies inversely, as the height of the barometer, and
rises more than eight inches for a fall of about half an inch of the barometer.
At Liverpool, a fall of one tenth of an inch in the barometer corresponds to a
rise in the river Mersey of about an inch ; and at the London docks, a fall of
one tenth of an inch corresponds to a rise in the Thames of about seven tenths
of an inch. With a low barometer, therefore, the tide may be expected to be
high, and vice versa. The tide is also liable to be disturbed by winds. Sir
John Lubbock states, that, in the violent hurricane of January 8, 1839, there
was no tide at Gainsborough, which is twenty-five miles up the Trent — a cir-
cumstance unknown before. At Saltmarsh, only five miles up the Ouse from
the [lumber, the tide went on ebbing, and never flowed until the river was dry
in some places ; while at Ostend, toward which the wind was blowing, con-
trary effects were observed. During strong northwesterly gales the tide marks
high water earlier in the Thames than otherwise, and does not give so much
water, while the ebb tide runs out late, and marks lower ; but upon the gales
abating and weather moderating, the tides put in and rise much higher, while
they also run longer before high water is marked, and with more velocity of
current : nor do they run out so long or so low.
LIGHT.
Structure of the Eye. — Manner in which distant Objects become Visible. — Corpuscular Theory. —
Undulatory Theory. — Its general Reception. — Velocity of Light. — Account of its Discovery by
Hoemer. — Measurement of the Waves of Light by Newton. — Color produced by Waves of dif-
ferent Magnitudes. — Magnitudes of Waves of different Color.— Summary View of the Corpus-
cular Theory. — Summary View of the Undulatory Theory. — These Theories compared. — Discov-
eries of Dr. Young. — Discoveries of Mains, Arago, Poisson, Herschel, and Airy. — Relations of
Light and Heat.
LIGHT.
223
LIGHT.
AMONG the many marvellous results of the labors of the human mind directed
to the discovery of the laws of the physical creation, there is perhaps none
which strike us with more astonishment than the knowledge which has been
obtained relating to the qualities and laws of LIGHT. The principles which
govern its reflection from opaque surfaces, and its transmission through trans-
parent bodies, we shall examine on another occasion. I propose for the pres-
ent to bring before you the facts which have been disclosed regarding its
physical nature and its motion through space, as well as the manner in which
it affects the organ of vision, so as to produce the perception of external and
distinct objects.
Between the eye and any distant object, there intervenes a space of greater
or less extent, and often, as in the instance of the stars, so great as to be
scarcely capable of being clearly and adequately expressed by any standard or
modolus of magnitude with which we are familiar. Yet objects, at these im-
mense distances, are rendered visible to us by some physical effects which
they are capable of producing and which in fact they do produce upon our
organs of vision.
We shall see that the interior of the eye-ball is lined with a membrane
highly susceptible of mechanical vibration and connected by a continuity of
nerves with the brain ; and to this membrane admission is given for light by
an opening in front of the eye called the pupil. The light then proceeding
from any distant object must be supposed to pass over the space intervening
between the object »nd the eye, to enter the pupil and to produce upon the
membrane within the eye a specific mechanical effect, which being propagated
to the brain, is the means of producing in the mind a perception of the distant
object.
How then are we to conceive that an object placed at any distance, for ex-
ample, say one hundred millions of miles, from the eye, can transmit over and
through that space a mechanical effect which shall be impressed on the eye ?
224
LIGHT.
We answer that there are two and only two ways in which it is possible to
conceive such an action to take place. These two are the following : —
First. — The distant object thus visible to us, may emit particles of matter
from its surface, which particles of matter may pass over the intervening
space, may enter the pupil of the eye, may strike upon the nervous mem-
brane, arid so affect it as to produce vision.
Secondly. — There may be in the space between the distant visible object
and the eye, a medium possessing elasticity, so as to be capable of receiving
and transmitting pulsations or undulations like those imparted to the air by a
sounding body. If this be admitted, the distant visible object may, without
emitting any particles of matter from its surface affect such a medium sur-
rounding it with pulsations or undulations, in the same manner as a bell
affects the air around it. These pulsations or undulations may pass along the
space intervening between the visible object and the eye, in the same manner
as the pulsations or undulations produced by a bell pass along the air between
the bell and the ear. In this manner the pulsations transmitted from the
visible object, and propagated by the medium, we have referred to, may reach
the eye and affect the membrane which lines it, in the same manner ex-
actly as the pulsations in the air affect the tympanum of the ear.
These are the two, and the only two modes, in which any human mind ever
yet conceived that a distant object could become visible to the eye.
In the first, there is an analogy between the eye and the organs of smelling.
Odorous objects do actually emit material effluvia, which must be supposed to
form part of their own substance. These effluvia reach the organ of smell-
ing, and produce upon it a specific effect, which impresses the mind with a
corresponding perception. According to the first supposition, a visible object
at any distance would act in the same way, and would eject continual parti-
cles of light, which particles of light would move to the eye and produce
vision, acting mechanically on its membrane in the same manner as the effluvia
of a rose produce a physical effect upon the organs of smelling.
The second method places the eye in analogy with the ear. So close
is this analogy that all the mathematical formulae by which the effects
of sound are expressed in acoustics, will, with very slight changes, be capa-
ble of expressing the effects of vision, according to the latter hypothesis. It
is evident, however, that as the first hypothesis requires us to admit that dis-
tant visible objects are continually ejecting matter from their surfaces to pro-
duce vision ; so the second hypothesis as peremptorily requires the admission
of the existence of some physical medium pervading the universe, — some subtle
ethereal fluid endowed with a property of propagating the pulsations or undu-
lations of distant visible objects and transmitting them to the eye. This hy-
pothetical fluid has been called the luminiferous ether. The first of these
two celebrated theories of light has been called the CORPUSCULAR THEORY, and
the second the UNDULATORY THEORY.
Newton, although he did not identify his investigations in optics with any
hypothesis, but in the spirit of the inductive philosophy founded by Bacon, )
based his conclusions on experiments and observations only, adopted never- >
theless the nomenclature and language of the corpuscular theory, and, probably, /
from veneration for his authority, English philosophers, until recently, have (
very generally given the preference, to that theory.
The undulating theory, on the other hand, was adopted by Huygens, and (
after him by most continental philosophers.
The researches in the phenomena of optics within the last hundred years have s
been marked by singular diligence and success. A vast variety of phenomena )
previously unknown, have been accurately investigated, new laws have been \
LIGHT.
225
developed, and the general result has been that the undulatory theory has pre-
vailed over the corpuscular. It is perhaps not an unfair statement of the ac-
tual condition of these two celebrated hypotheses, to say that while the cor- /
puscular system is found sufficient to explain most of the common and obvious I
phenomena of optics, it totally fails in explaining many of the most remarkable *
effects brought to light by modern observations and experiments. On the
other hand, the undulatory theory in general offers a satisfactory explanation
for all. This circumstance has very properly and legitimately enlisted under
that hypothesis almost all the leading scientific men of the present day.
Although the principal facts which we shall have now to explain are in fact
a- pendent of either of these two hypotheses, and incontestably true, which-
ever may be adopted, yet in their exposition, it will be necessary to adopt the
language of one or the other of these theories. We shall, for the reason just
sta-ted, use the nomenclature of the undulatory theory.
We are then to imagine light to consist of undulations propagated through
the universal ether, in the same manner as the waves or undulations of sound
are propagated through the air.
The first question then that arises is, what is the velocity with which these
waves move ? At what rate does light come from a distant star to the eye ?
Is it propagated instantaneously ? Would a fire suddenly lighted at a point
one hundred millions of miles from the eye be seen at the moment the light
was produced ? — or would an interval of time be necessary to allow the light
to reach the eye ? and if so, what would be the interval of time in relation to
the distance of the luminous object?
In tracing the progress of human knowledge, we frequently have occasions
to behold with surprise, and not without a due sense of humility, the important
part which accident plays in the advancement of science. Often are we with
diligent zeal in search of things, which, if found, would be of trifling or no
value, when we stumble on inestimable treasures of truth. The frequency of
this, strongly impresses the mind with the persuasion that there is in secret
operation a power whose will it is that knowledge and the human mind should
be constantly progressive. It is in physics as in morals. We ignorantly seek
that which is worthless and often find what is inestimable.
In the pursuit of knowledge we might well say that which we are taught to
express in the pursuit of what is moral and good. We might say that the
power which governs its progress knows better than what we do, " our neces-
sities before we ask, and our ignorance in asking." We shall see a striking
example of this in the narrative which I shall now offer of the celebrated dis-
covery of the motion of light.
Soon after the invention of the telescope, and the consequent discovery of
Jupiter's satellites, Roemer, an eminent Danish astronomer, engaged in a series
of observations, the object of which was the discovery of the exact time of
the revolution of one of these bodies around Jupiter. The mode in which he
proposed to investigate this, was by observing the successive eclipses of the
satellite, and noticing the time between them.
Let S represent the sun and ABCDEFGH the successive positions
of the earth. Let J be Jupiter projecting behind him his conical shadow, and
let M N 0. represent the orbit of one of his satellites. After each revolution
the satellite will enter the shadow at M, and emerge from it at N.
Now if it were possible to observe accurately the moment at which the sat-
ellite would, after each revolution, either enter the shadow, or emerge from it,
the interval of time between these events would enable us to calculate exactly
the velocity and motion of the satellite. But by attentively watching the sat-
ellite we can note the time it enters the shadow, for at that moment it is de-
226
LIGHT.
prived of the sun's light and becomes invisible. We can also note the moment
of its emergence, because then escaping from the edge of the shadow it comes
into the sun's light and becomes visible. It was, then, in this manner that Roe-
mer proposed to ascertain the motion of the satellite. But in order to obtain
this estimate with the greatest possible precision, he proposed to continue his
observations for several months.
Let us, then, suppose that we have observed the time which has elapsed
between two successive eclipses, and that this time is, for example, forty-three
hours. We ought to expect that the eclipse would recur after the lapse of every
successive period of forty-three hours.
Imagine, then, a table to be computed in which we shall calculate and reg-
ister before hand the moment at which every successive eclipse of the satellite
for twelve months to come shall occur, and let us conceive that the earth is at A,
at the commencement of our observations, we shall then, as Roemer did, ob-
serve the moments at which the eclipses occur and compare them with the mo-
ments registered in the table.
Let the earth, be supposed at A, at the commencement of these obser-
vations, where it is nearest to Jupiter. When the earth has moved to B, which
it will do in about six weeks, it will be found that the occurrence of the eclipse
is a little later than the time registered in the table. When the earth arrives
at C, which it will do at the end of three months, they will occur still later
tlmn the registered time. In fact at C,the eclipses will occur about eight min-
utes later than the registered time. At D they will be twelve minutes later,
and at E sixteen minutes later.
By observations such as these Roemer was struck with the fact that his pre-
dictions of the eclipses proved in every case to be wrong. It would at first
occur to him that this discrepancy might arise from some errors of his obser-
vations, but if such were the case, it might be expected that the result would
betray that kind of irregularity which is always the character of such errors.
Thus it would be expected that the predicted time would sometimes be later,
and sometimes earlier than the observed time, and that it would be later and
earlier to an irregular extent. On the contrary, it was observed during the six
mouths which the earth took to move from A to E, that the observed time was
continually later than the predicted time, and moreover, that the interval by
which it was later continually and regularly increased. This was an effect,
then, too regular and consistent to be supposed to arise from the casual errors
of observation ; it must have its origin in some physical cause of a regdal
kind.
The attention of Roemer being thus attracted to the question, he deteimined
to pursue the investigation by continuing to observe the eclipses for another
half year. Time accordingly rolled on, and the earth transporting the astrono-
mer with it, moved from E to F. On arriving at F and comparing the observ-
ed with the predicted eclipse, it was found that the observed time was now
only twelve minutes later than the predicted time. At the end of the ninth
month when the earth arrived at G, the observed time was found to be only
eight minutes later ; at H it was only four minutes later, and finally, when the
r
LIGHT. 227
earth returned to the same relative position with the planet, the observed time
corresponded precisely with the predicted time.*
From this course of observation and inquiry it became apparent that the
lateness of the eclipse depended altogether on the increased distance of the
earth from Jupiter. The greater that distance, the later was the occurrence
of the eclipse as apparent to the observers, and on calculating the change of
distance, it was found that the delay of the eclipse was exactly proportional
to the increase of the earth's distance from the place where the eclipse occur-
red. Thus when the earth was at E, the eclipse was observed 16 min-
utes, or about 1,000 seconds later than when the earth was at A. The diame-
ter of the orbit of the earth, A E, measuring about two hundred millions of
miles, it appeared that that distance produced a delay of a thousand seconds,
which was at the rate of two hundred thousand miles per second. It appear-
ed, then, that for every two hundred thousand miles that the earth's distance
from Jupiter was increased, the observation of the eclipse was delayed oiie
second.
Such were the facts which presented themselves to Roemer. How were
they to be explained ? It would be absurd to suppose that the actual occur-
rence of the eclipses was delayed by the increased distance of the earth from
Jupiter. These phenomena depend only on the motion of the satellite and the
position of Jupiter's shadow, and have nothing to do with, and can have no de-
pendance on the position or motion of the earth, yet unquestionably the time
they appear to occur to an observer upon the earth, has a dependance on the
distance of the earth from Jupiter.
To solve this difficulty, the happy idea occurred to Roemer that the moment
at which we see the extinction of the satellite by its entrance into the shadow
is not, in any case, the very moment at which that event takes place, but some-
time afterward, viz.: such an interval as is sufficient for the light which left
the satellite just before its extinction to reach the eye. Viewing the matter
thus, it will be apparent that the more distant the earth is from the satellite,
the longer will be the interval between the extinction of the satellite and the
arrival of the last portion of light which left it, at the earth ; but the moment
of the extinction of the satellite is that of the commencement of the eclipse,
and the moment of the arrival of the light at the earth is the moment the com-
mencement of the eclipsed is observed.
Thus Roemer with the greatest facility and success explained the discrep-
ancy between the calculated and the observed times of the eclipses ; but he
saw that these circumstances placed a great discovery at his hand. In short, it
was apparent that light is propagated through space with a certain definite
speed, and that the circumstances we have just explained supply the means of
measuring that velocity.
We have shown that the eclipse of the satellite is delayed one second more
for every two hundred thousand miles that the earth's distance from Jupiter is
increased, the reason of which, obviously is, that light takes ane second to
move over that space ; hence it is apparent that the velocity of light is at the
rate, in round numbers, of two hundred thousand miles per second.
Such was the discovery which has conferred immortality upon the name of
Roemer ; a discovery to which, as we have shown, he was accidentally led
when seeking to determine the velocity of one of the moons of Jupiter. The
velocity thus determined would, in the corpuscular theory, be regarded as that
with which the particles of light issuing from the surface of a visible object move
* Strictly speaking ie interval is longer than twelve months, bat the circumstance is not iinpor-
ant here.
228
LIGHT.
through space. In the undulatory theory, however, which is more generally
received, this velocity must be regarded as that with which the waves or un-
dulations of light are propagated through space in the same sense as waves
appear to move on the surface of water if a pebble be dropped in to form a
centre round which they are propagated. It is necessary to remember when
considering any system of undulations, no matter through what medium they
may be propagated, that the progressive motion which belongs to them is a
motion of form merely, and not of matter. The waves which are propagated
round a centre when a pebble is dropped into calm water, present an appear-
ance to the eye as though the water which formed the wave really moved out-
ward from the centre of the undulations. Such is, however, not the case. No
particle of the fluid has any progressive motion whatever, of which many
proofs may be offered. If any floating body be placed on the surface of the
water, it will not be carried along by the waves, and if similar waves be form-
ed, as they might be, by giving a peculiar motion to a sheet or cloth, they
would have the same appearance of progressive motion, although the parts of
the sheet or cloth, as is evident, would have no other motion than the up-and-
down motion that would form the apparent undulations. We are then to
remember that when light is propagated through space with the astonishing
velocity of two hundred thousand miles per second, there is no material sub-
stance which really has this progressive velocity ; it belongs merely to the
form of the pulsations, or undulations. The same observations, exactly, are
applicable to the transmission of the waves of sound through the air.
In order to submit the phenomena of light to a strict physical analysis, it is
not enough to measure the motion of its waves. We require also to know the
amplitude or breadth of these waves, just as in the case of the waves of the
sea Ave should require to know not only the rate at which they are propagated
over the surface of the water, but also the space which intervenes between the
hollow "or crest of each successive wave and the hollow or crest of the suc-
ceeding one.
For the solution of this refined problem in the analysis of light, we are in-
debted to Newton himself. To render clearly intelligible the mode in which
he solved it, let us imagine a flat plate of glass, such as A B, placed upon a
convex lens of glass, such as C D, but let it be imagined that the degree of
convexity is much less than that represented in the figure.
The under surface of the flat plate will touch the vertext of tbe convexity
at V, and the further any point on the under surface is from V, the greater will
be the distance between the surfaces of the two glasses. Thus the distance
between them at 1 is less than at 2, and the distance at 2 is less than at
O, and so on. The distance at the surfaces gradually increasing, in fact,
from V outward.
If looking down on the plate A B, we consider the point V as a centre, and
a circle be described round it, at all points of that circle the surfaces of the
glasses will have the same distances between them, and the greater that circle
is, the greater will be the distances between the surfaces of glass.
Having the glasses thus arranged, Newton let a beam of light of some par-
ticular color, produced by a prism, as red, for example, fall on the surface of
229
the glass, A B. He found that the effect produced was that a black spot ap-
peared at the centre, V, where the glasses touched ; that immediately around
this spot there appeared a circle of red light ; that beyond that circle appeared
a dark ring; that outside of that dark ring there was another circle
of red light, still having the point V as its centre. Outside this second circle
appeared another dark ring, beyond which there was another circle of red
light, and so on, a series of circles of red light, alternated with dark rings be-
ing formed, all having the point V as their common centre.
The distances between the surfaces of glass at which the successive circles
of red light were found, were too minute to be directly measured, but they
were easily calculated by measuring the diameters of the circles of light ; and
knowing the diameters of the convex surface C V D, this was a simple problem
of geometry, easily solved, and admitting the greatest accuracy.
On making these calculations, Newton found that the distance between the
glass surfaces where the second red circle was formed was double the distance
corresponding to the first ; that at the third red circle the distance was triple that
of the first, and so on.* It followed, of course, that wherever the dark rings
were formed, the distance between the glass surfaces were not an exact num-
ber of times the space corresponding to the first red circle.
Thus if we express the space between the glasses at the first red circle by 1,
the space between them within that circle, toward the centre V, would be a
fraction. The space corresponding to the first dark ring outside the first red
circle, would be expressed by 1 and a fraction ; the space at the second red
circle would be expressed by 2 ; the space at the second dark ring would be
expressed by 2 and a fraction, and so on.
Newton was not slow to see that these phenomena were the direct manifes-
tation of those effects which, in the corpuscular theory whose nomenclature he
used, corresponded to the amplitude of the waves of light in the undulatory )
theory. The space between the surfaces of glass at the first red ring was the s
amplitude of a single wave, the space at the second red circle the amplitude
of two waves, and so on. Within the first red circle, the space between the
glasses being less than the amplitude of a wave, the propagation of the undu-
lation was stopped, and darkness ensued ; in like manner, in the space corre-
sponding to the second dark ring, the distance between the glasses being greater
than the amplitude of one wave, but less than the amplitude of two, the propa-
gation was again stopped, and darkness produced. But at the second red
circle, the space being equal to the amplitude of two waves, the undulations
were reflected and the red ring produced, and so on.
It was evident, then, that to measure the amplitude of the luminous waves,
it was only necessary to calculate the distance between the glasses at the first
red ring.
When light of other colors was thrown upon the glass, a similar system of
luminous rings was produced, but it was found in each case that the first ring
varied in its diameter according to the color of the light, and consequently that
the amplitude, of the waves of lights of different colors are different. It ap-
peared that the waves of red light were the largest ; orange came next to
them ; then yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, succeeded each other, the
waves of each being less than those of the preceding. But the most astonish-
ing part of this most celebrated investigation was the minuteness of these
waves. It appeared that the waves of red light were so minute, that forty
thousand of them would be comprised within an inch, while the waves of violet
light, forming the other extreme of the series, were so small, that sixty thou-
sand spread over an inch, and the waves of light of other colors were of inter-
mediate magnitudes.
Thus was discovered the physical cause of the splendor and variety of colors,
and a singular and mysterious alliance was developed between color and sound.
T.icrhts are °f various hues, according to the magnitude of the pulsations that
prom: t them, exactly as musical sounds vary their tone and pitch according
to the magnitude of the aerial pulsations from which they result.
But this is not all. The alliance between sound and light does not termi-
nate here. We have only spoken of the amplitude of the luminous waves, and
have shown that it determines the tints of colors. What are we to say for the
altitudes of the waves 1 Here, again, is another link of kindred between the
eye and the ear. As the altitude of sonorous waves determines the loudness
of the sounds, so the altitude of luminous waves determines the intensity or
brightness of the color.
There is one step more in the series of wondrous results which these mem-
orable investigations have unfolded. As the perception of sound is produced
by the tympanum of the ear vibrating in sympathetic accordance with the pul-
sations of the air produced by the sounding body, so the perception of light and
color is produced by similar pulsations of the membrane of the eye vibrating
in accordance with ethereal pulsations propagated from the visible object. As
in the case of the ear, the rigor of scientific investigation requires us to estimate
the rate of the pulsation of the tympanum corresponding to each particular note,
so in the case of light are we required to count the vibrations of the retina of
the eye corresponding to every tint and color. It may well be asked, in some
spirit of incredulity, how the solution of such a problem could be hoped for ;
yet, as we shall now see, nothing can be more simple and obvious.
Let us suppose an object of any particular color, as a red star, for example,
placed at a distance and seen by the eye. From the star to the eye there pro-
ceeds a continuous line of waves ; these waves enter the pupil and impinge
upon the retina ; for each wave which thus strikes the retina, there will be a
separate pulsation of that membrane. Its rate of pulsation, or the number of
vibrations which it makes per second, will therefore be known, if we can as-
certain how many luminous waves enter the eye per second.
It has been already shown that light moves at the rate of about two hundred
thousand miles per second ; it follows, therefore, that a length of ray amount-
ing to two hundred thousand miles must enter the pupil each second ; the num-
ber of times, therefore, per second, which the retina will vibrate, will be the
same as the number of the luminous waves contained in a ray two hundred
thousand miles long.
Let us take the case of red light. In two hundred thousand miles there are
in round numbers a thousand millions of feet, and therefore twelve thousand
millions of inches. In each of these twelve thousand millions of inches there
are forty thousand waves of red light. In the whole length of the ray, therefore,
there are four hundred and eighty millions of millions of waves. Since this
ray, however, enters the eye in one second, the retina must pulsate once for
each of these waves ; and thus we arrive at the astounding conclusion, that
when we behold a red object, the membrane of the eye trembles at the rate of
four hundred and eighty millions of millions of times between every two ticks
of a common clock !
In the same manner, the rate of pulsation of the retina corresponding to other
' tints of colors is determined ; and it is found that when violet light is perceived,
| it trembles at the rate of seven hundred and twenty millions of millions of times
> per second.
In the annexed table are given the magnitudes of the luminous waves of each
» color, the number of them which measure an inch, and the number of undula- /
[ tions per second which strike the eye : —
LIGHT.
Colors.
Length of undulation in
part* of an inrli.
Number of undula-
tion* in nn inch.
NumLer of troJnlatioiu per r
second. 1
0-0000266
0-0000256
0-0000240
0-0000227
0-0000211
0-0000196
0-0000185
0-0000174
0-0000167
37640
39180
41610
44000
47460
51110
54070
57490
59750
458,000000,000000
477,000000^000000
506,000000,000000
535,000000.000000
577,000000,000000
622,000000.000000
658,OOOOOOJCOOOOO
699,000000,000000
727,000000,000000 '
Red
Orange . . .
Yellow
Blue
Violet
Extreme Violet
The preceding calculations are, as will be easily perceived, made onlv in
round numbers, with a view of rendering the principles of the investiga'tion
intelligible. In the table the exact results of the physical investigations which
have been carried on, on this subject, are given.
In considering the two theories of light, each of which has been rendered
memorable by the eminent philosophers who have favored them respectively,
it is necessary that we should distinguish in each of them that which is purely
hypothetical, and which remains yet to be established as a matter of fact, from
that which expresses real and ascertained phenomena.
In explaining these points, we cannot do better than adopt the clear and
candid language and reasoning of Sir John Herschel. In explaining gener-
ally the postulates of these theories, he says that in the corpuscular hypothesis
the following assumptions are made.
1. That light consists of particles of matter possessed of inertia, and endued
with attractive and repulsive forces, and projected or emitted from all luminous
bodies with nearly the same velocity, of about two hundred thousand miles per
second.
2. That these particles differ from each other by the intensity of the attrac-
tive and repulsive forces which reside in them, and in their relations to the
material world, and also ID their actual masses, or inertia.
3. That these particles, impinging on the retina, stimulate and excite vision ;
the particles whose inertia is greatest producing the sensation of red, those
of the least inertia, violet, and those in which it is intermediate, the interme-
diate colors.
4. That the molecules of material bodies and those of light exert a mutual
action on each other, which consists in attraction and repulsion, according to
some law or function of the distance between them ; that this law is such as to
admit perhaps of several alternations or changes from repulsive to attractive
force, but that when the distance is below a certain very small limit, it is
always attracted up to actual contact ; and that beyond this limit resides at
least one sphere of repulsion. This repulsive force is that which causes the
reflection of light at the external surfaces of dense media, and the interior at-
traction that which produces the refraction and interior reflection of light.
5. That these forces havfc different absolute values or intensities, not only
for all different material bodies, but for every different species of the luminous
molecules, being of a nature analogous to chemical affinities or elective attrac-
tions ; and that hence arises the different refrangibilities of the rays of light.
6. That the motion of a particle of light, under the influence of these forces
and its own velocity, is regulated by the same mechanical laws which govern
the motions of ordinary matter ; and that therefore each particle describes a
trajectory, capable of strict calculation, as soon as the forces which act on it
are assigned.
7. That the distance between the molecules of material bodies is exceed-
ingly small in comparison with the extent of their spheres of attraction and
repulsion on the particles of light.
232
LIGHT.
8. That the forces which produce the reflection arid refraction of light are,
nevertheless, absolutely insensible at all measurable or appreciable distances
from the molecules which exert them.
9 That every luminous molecule, during the whole of its progress through
space, is continually passing through certain periodically recurring states, called
by Newton fits of easy reflection and easy transmission, in virtue of which
they are more disposed, when in the former states or phases of their periods,
to obey the influence of the repulsive or reflective forces of the molecules of a
medium ; and when in the latter, of the attractive.
Such are the principles necessary to be admitted in the corpuscular theory.
Herschel states those of the undulatory theory as follows : —
1. That an excessively rare, subtle, and elastic medium, or ether, fills all
space, and pervades all material bodies, occupying the intervals between their
molecules ; and either by passing freely among them, or by its extreme rarity,
offering no resistance to the motion of the earth, the planets, or comets, in their
orbits, appreciable by the most delicate astronomical observations ; and having
inertia, but not gravity.
2. That the molecules of the ether are susceptible of being set in motion by
the agitation of the particles of ponderable matter ; that when any one is thus
set in motion, it communicates a similar motion to those adjacent to it : and
that the motion is propagated farther and farther in all directions, according to
the same mechanical laws which regulate the propagation of undulations in
other elastic media, as air, water, or solids, according to their respective con-
stitutions.
3. That in the interior of refracting media the ether exists in a state of less
elasticity, compared with its density, than in vacuo (that is, space empty of all
other matter) ; and that the more refractive the medium, the greater, relatively
speaking, is the elasticity of the ether in its interior.
4. That vibrations jominanicated to the ether in free space are propagated
through refractive media by means of the ether in their interior, but with a ve-
locity corresponding to its inferior degree of elasticity.
5. That when regular vibratory motions of a proper kind are propagated
through the ether, and, passing through our eyes, reach and agitate the nerves
of our retina, they produce in us the sensation of light, in a manner bearing a
more or less close analogy to that in which the vibrations of the air affect our
auditory nerves with that of sound.
6. That as, in the doctrine of sound, the frequency of the aerial pulscc, or
the number of excursions to and fro from the point of rest made by each mole-
cule of the air, determines the pitch or note ; so, in the theory of light, the
frequency of the pulses, or number of impulses made on our nerves in a given
dine by the ethereal molecules next in contact with them, determines the color
of the light ; and that as the absolute extent of the motion to and fro of the par-
ades of air, determines the loudness of the sound, so the amplitude or extent of
•he excursions of the ethereal molecules from their points of rest determines
'•he brightness or intensity of the light.
Whichever theory we adopt to explain the phenomena of light, we are led to
conclusions that strike the mind with astonishment. According to the corpus-
cular theory, the molecules of light are supposed to be endowed with attractive
and repulsive forces, to have poles to balance themselves about their centres
of gravity, and to possess other physical properties which we can only ascribe
to ponderable matter. In speaking of these properties, it is difficult to divest
oneself of the idea of sensible magnitude, or by any strain of the imagination
to conceive that particles to which they belong can be so amazingly small as
those of light demonstrably are. If a molecule of light weighed a single grain,
LIGHT.
233
its momentum (by reason of the enormous velocity with which it moves) would
be such that its effect would be equal to that of a cannon-ball of one hundred
and fifty pounds, projected with a velocity of one thousand feet per second.
How inconceivably small must they therefore be, when millions of molecules,
collected by lenses or mirrors, have never been found to produce the slightest
effect on the most delicate apparatus contrived expressly for the purpose of
rendering their materiality sensible !
If the corpuscular theory astonishes us by the extreme minuteness and pro-
digious velocity of the luminous molecules, the numerical results deduced from
the undulatory theory are not less overwhelming. The extreme smallness of
the amplitude of the vibrations, and the almost inconceivable but still measu-
rable rapidity with which they succeed each other, were computed by Doctor
Young, and are exhibited in the table previously shown.
On a cursory view, it must appear singular that two hypotheses, founded on
assumptions so essentially different, should concur in affording the means of
{ explaining so great a number of facts with equal precision and almost equal
; facility. This, however, is the case with respect to the corpuscular and uudu-
' latory theories of light, from both of which the mathematical laws to which the
phenomena are subject may be deduced, though not in all cases with the same
degree of facility. So far as the corpuscular doctrine is available for the pur-
poses of deductive explanation, it possesses all the characteristics of a good
theory. It supposes the operation of a force with which we are in some
measure familiar. We are accustomed to contemplate the effects of attraction
in the grand phenomena of astronomy ; we perceive them at every instant in
the downward tendency of all heavy bodies ; and, though they disappear in the
small bodies of nature, they are reproduced in the phenomena of electricity,
magnetism, capillary attraction, and various chemical actions, where they can
be not only distinctly traced, but reduced to mathematical formulae, and sub-
mitted to accurate calculation. The undulatory hypothesis is not seized by the
mind with th*1 name facility ; yet it also possesses some of the least equivocal
characteristics of philosophical truth. No phenomenon has yet been discovered
decidedly at variance with any of its principles. On the contrary, most of the
phenomena follow from those principles with remarkable ease ; and in numer-
ous instances, consequences deduced from the theory by a long and intricate
analysis, and where no sagacity could possibly have divined the result, have
been found to be accurately true when brought to the test of experiment. Hence
this hypothesis begins to be generally adopted by philosophers, and, in recent
times, by far the most illustrious names in the annals of optical discovery are
included in the list of its supporters.
That the sensation of light is produced by the vibrations of an extremely
rare and subtle fluid, is an idea that was maintained by Descartes, Hooke, and
some others ; but it is to Huygens that the honor solely belongs of having re-
duced the hypothesis to a definite shape, and rendered it available to the pur-
poses of mechanical explanation. Owing to the great success of Newton in
applying the corpuscular theory to his splendid discoveries, the speculations
of Huygens were long neglected ; indeed, the theory remained in the same
state in which it was left by him till it was taken up by our countryman, the
late Dr. Young. By a train of mechanical reasoning, which in point of inge-
nuity has seldom been equalled, Dr. Young was conducted to some very re-
markable numerical relations among some of the apparently most dissimilar
phenomena of optics to the general laws of diffraction, and to the two princi-
ples of coloration of crystallized substances. Malus, so late as 1810, made
the important discovery of the polarization of light by reflection, and success-
fully explained the phenomenon by the hypothesis of an undulatory propaga-
234 LIGHT.
tion. The theory subsequently received a great extension from the ingenious
labors of Fresnel ; and the still more recent researches of Arago, Poisson,
Herschel. Airy, and others, have conferred on it so great a degree of proba-
bility, that it may almost be regarded as ranking in the class of demonstrated
truths. " It is a theory," says Herschel, " which, if not founded in nature, is
certainly one of the happiest fictions that the genius of man has yet invented
to group together natural phenomena, as well as the most, fortunate in the sup-
port it has received from whole classes of new phenomena, which at their
discovery Deemed in irreconcilable opposition to it. It is, in fact, in all its
applications and details, one succession of felicities ; inasmuch as that we may
almost be induced to say, if it be not true, it deserves to be."
Light and heat are so intimately related to each other, that philosophers
have doubted whether they are identical principles, or merely coexistent in
the luminous rays. They possess numerous properties in common : being
reflected, refracted, and polarized, according to the same optical laws, and even
exhibit the same phenomena of interference. Most substances during combus-
tion give out both light and heat ; and all bodies, except the gases, when heated
to a high temperature, become incandescent. Nevertheless, there are many
circumstances in which they appear to differ.
A thin plate of transparent glass interposed between the face and a blazing
fire intercepts no sensible portion of the light, but most sensibly diminishes
the heat. Light and heat are therefore not intercepted alike by the same sub-
stances. Heat is also combined in different degrees with the different rays of
the solar spectrum. A very remarkable discovery on this subject was made
by Sir William Herschel, which would seem to establish the independence of
the heating and illuminating effects of the solar rays. Having placed ther-
mometers in the several prismatic colors of the solar spectrum, he found the
heating power of the rays gradually increased from the violet (where it was
least) to the extreme red, and that the maximum temperature existed sonu dis-
tance beyond the red, out of the visible pail of the spectrum. The experiment
was soon after repeated with great care by Berard, who confirmed Herschel's
conclusions relative to the augmentation of the calorific power from the violet
to the red, and not beyond the spectrum. This discovery of the inequality of
the heating power of the different rays led to the inquiry whether the chemical
action produced by light upon certain bodies was merely the effect of the heat
accompanying it, or owing to some other cause. By a series of delicate ex-
periments, Berard found that this action is not only independent of the heating
power, but follows entirely a different law : its intensity being greater in the
violet ray, where the heating power is the least, and least in the red ray, where
the heating power is the greatest. We are thus led to the conclusion that the
solar rays possess at least three distinct powers — those of heating, illumina-
ting, and effecting chemical combinations and decompositions ; and these pow-
ers are distributed among the different refrangible rays in such a manner as to
show their complete independence of each other.
I shall dismiss this subject, however, for the present, as I shall have another
opportunity of more fully developing the relations of heat and light.
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
3pr.c2 between MARS and JUPITER. — Jupiter's Distance and Period. — His Magnitude and Weight. —
His Velocity. — Appearance of his Disk. — Day and Night on Jupiter. — Position of his Axi*. — Ab-
sence of Seasons. — His Telescopic Appearance. — His Belts. — Causes of his Belts. — Currents in
his Atmosphere. — Madler's Telescopic Views of Jupiter. — Appearance of the Sun as seen from
Jupiter. — His Satellites. — The Variety of his Months. — Magnificent Appearance of the Moons as
seen from Jupiter. — Their Eclipses. — SATURN. — His diurnal Rotation. — Appearance of the Sun
as seen from him. — His Atmosphere. — His Rings. — Their Dimensions. — Biot's Explanation of
their Stability. — Herschel's Theory of the same. — Appearances and Disappearances of the
Rings. — Various Phases of the Rings.— Saturn's Satellites. — HERSCHEL or URANUS. — His Dis-
tance and Magnitude. — His Moons. — Reason* why there is no Planet beyond his Orbit.
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
237
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
PASSING across the wide space which intervenes between the minor planets
which, with the earth, circulate under the immediate wing of the sun, in the
midst of which space we encounter the strange spectacle of the ruins of a shat-
tered world, we arrive at the region of the system in which roll in silent maj-
esty the stupendous orbs of JUPITER, SATURN, and HERSCHEL, accompanied by
their gorgeous apparatus of multiplied moons, rings, and belts. The mind is pre-
pared to expect here another order of worlds, and it is not disappointed. The
first of these sublime globes which attracts our attention is that of JUPITER,
whose diameter is eighty-eight thousand miles, and whose bulk is fifteen hun-
dred times that of our own globe. The distance of this planet from the sun is
nearly five hundred millions of miles, and when our globe is nearest to it, it is
nearly four times more distant from us than the sun. Nevertheless, such is its
stupendous size that it subtends to the eye an angle of forty-five seconds, and
is, next to the sun and moon, the most brilliant object in the heavens. It has
in this respect the advantage over VENUS, that when nearest to us its illumi-
nated hemisphere is presented directly to the line of vision, and it is seen in
the meridian at midnight, when the entire absence of the sun's light so much
favors its apparent splendor. The orbit of the earth, which is included in that
of Jupiter, is so small, compared with that of the planet, that its illuminated
hemisphere, which is presented precisely to the sun, is always presented very
nearly to the earth. Jupiter, therefore, does not appear sensibly gibbous, and,
consequently, is always seen with a full face.
The time which Jupiter takes to make his complete revolution round the
sun, is 4,333 days, being something less than twelve years. Such is the
length of the year of Jupiter.
The weight or mass of the planet Jupiter is*316 times greater than that of the
earth ; but its bulk, being greater than that of the earth, in the higher propor-
tion of about fifteen hundred to one, it follows that its density is about four
times less than that of the earth ; being nearly equal to the density of the sun.
238
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
The globe of Jupiter is therefore about as heavy as if it was composed of
water from its surface to its centre.
There is nothing connected with the motion of the planets more surprising
than their enormous velocities, which, to our observation, are nevertheless
scarcely perceptible, owing to the fact that their distances from us are propor-
tionally great. Jupiter, when nearest to us, is at a distance of four hundred
millions of miles. A cannon-ball which moves at the rate of five hundred
miles an hour, would require nearly a hundred years to come from Jupiter to
us, and if a steam-engine on a railway, moving at twenty miles an hour, were
to take its departure for Jupiter, it would not arrive at its destination until the
expiration of two thousand three hundred years.
Taking the diameter of Jupiter's orbit at a thousand millions of miles, its
circumference is more than three thousand millions of miles, which is traversed
in less than twelve years. The space moved over annually by Jupiter is, then,
two hundred and fifty millions of miles ; and the space moved over monthly
about twenty millions of miles ; and the space moved over daily about seven
hundred thousand miles ; and the space moved over hourly about thirty thou-
sand miles ; being at the rate of about five hundred miles a minute ; a velocity
sixty times greater than that of a cannon-ball.
DIURNAL ROTATION OF JUPITER.
Although the varieties of light and shade which characterize the disk of
Jupiter are «uh)ect to variations which show, as will be seen hereafter, that
they are principally produced by clouds in his atmosphere, yet permanent
marks weie discovered upon it at an early epoch, by which the fact was estab-
< lished that the planet has a diurnal rotation. In the years 1664-'5, Hook and
Cassmi observed a spot on one of the belts which was permanent in its pt>si-
uon, and was observed to move across the disk of the planet. It contracted
in us breadth as it approached the edge of the disk ; a circumstance which ob-
viously arose from its being fore-shortened by the position in which it was
there presented to the eye, that portion of the surface of the planet being seen
very obliquely, the spot disappeared at one side, and after being invisible for
a time reappeared at the other. This spot continued to be seen for more than
a year, and fully proved the fact that -Jupiter completes his rotation on an axis
very slightly inclined to his orbit in nine hours and fifty-six minutes.
The alternations of light and darkness on Jupiter are therefore regulated by
intervals much shorter than those which govern the days and nights of the
minor planets, and we shall presently see that this is a character which prob-
ably prevails among all the major planets. The average interval of the days
and nights must be a little under five terrestrial hours.
This rapid motion, considered with reference to the great magnitude of Ju-
piter, leads to the inference that the velocity of that part of his surface which
is near his equator must be exceedingly great. The circumference of Jupiter
at his equator must be about two hundred and seventy thousand miles, and as
this revolves in ten hours, the motion of any point upon it must be at the
enormous rate of twenty-seven thousand miles an hour, or a little less than five
hundred miles a minute. Thus it appears that the velocity which the equa-
torial regions have, in virtue of the diurnal motion, is very little less than the
orbitual motion of the planet round the sun.
This rapid diurnal rotation would produce a considerable variation in the
weights of bodies at different latitudes on the surface of Jupiter, since the cen-
trifugal force near the equator would counteract the weight in a very sensible
manner, while toward the poles its effects would cease to be perceptible.
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
1 /-'^•S^-*^^^
239 !
The great length of Jupiter's year compared with its rapid diurnal rotation,
will resolve the year into a much greater number of days than its proportional
length compared with the terrestrial year would infer. While Jupiter makes
one complete revolution round the sun, it will make ten thousand four hundred
and seventy revolutions on its axis. Such, therefore, is the number of days
in Jupiter's year.
The axis of Jupiter is inclined to its orbit at an angle of about three degrees,
and as this inclination determines the limits of the seasons, it follows that there
can be scarcely any perceptible change of season upon the planet during one
half of his year. The sun will, during one half year, gradually pass to three
degrees north of his equator, and during the other half year to three degrees
south of it. The extreme change of the sun's meridional altitude would there-
fore not exceed six degrees. This perhaps might be sufficient for the purposes
of chronology, but could scarcely produce any effects on the organized world,
nor would the temperature of the seasons undergo any observable change. The
range of the tropics would be three degrees on each side of the equator of the
planet, and within these regions the sun would pass near the zenith daily.
The sun would rise and set daily throughout the year, to every part of the
planet except a small circle extending three degrees round the poles.
The diameter of Jupiter being eleven times that of the earth, his surface will
be greater than that of our planet in the proportion of a hundred and twenty to
one, and if the distribution of land and water be similar, it will afford accom-
modation for a population a hundred and twenty times more numerous.
The actual bulk of the globe of Jupiter, which is the largest body of the
system next to the sun, is fourteen hundred times greater than that of the earth.
In other words, to make a globe equal to that of Jupiter, we should roll into
one fourteen hundred globes like that of the earth.
TELESCOPIC APPEARANCE OF JUPITER.
The spectacle presented to the observer who enjoys the use of a powerful
telescope by the planet Jupiter, is magnificent indeed. The surface of the
planet appears as large and distinct as the full moon to the naked eye. His
disk is marked with certain features of light and shadow, which are in general
variable. They are, therefore, produced by clouds floating in his atmosphere,
the presence of which is indeed rendered quite evident by the telescope. Al-
though these lights and shadows in general are variable, yet they are found
to be characterized by a certain regularity of arrangement. Their streaks
are generally parallel, as in the annexed figures, which exhibit views of Jupiter
seen on different occasions.
These streaks, which are called the belts of Jupiter, were observed before
the middle of the 17th century, and are visible to telescopes of no very con-
siderable power. They are variable not only in their breadth and form, btit
in their number. Sometimes not more than one can be discovered ; at other
times two or more, and sometimes as many as eight. Sometimes they have
continued without sensible variation for nearly three months, and sometimes a
new belt has appeared in an hour or two. The annexed diagrams have been
given by different authors as representing the appearances of these belts at
different times. They have, sometimes, though rarely, been see-n broken ujp
and distributed over the whole surface of the planet as represented in fig. D.
Fig. B gives a view taken at an early period by Dr. Hook. Fig. A is a view
taken in the year 1832. Fig. C is in 1837. It is, however, extremely dif-
ficult to obtain sketches of this kind executed with tolerable fidelity.
Mr. Thomas Dick states that he has had frequently an opportunity of view-
ing Jupiter with good telescopes, both reflecting and refracting, for twenty or
thirty years past ; and among several hundreds of observations, has never
seen above four or five belts at one time. The most -common appearance ob-
served, is that of two belts distinctly marked, one on each side 01 the planet's
equator, and one at each pole, generally broader, but much fainter than the
others. He has never perceived much change in the form or position of the
belts during the same season, but in successive years a slight degree of change
has been perceptible, some of the belts having either disappeared, or turned
much fainter than they were before, or shifted somewhat their relative posi-
tions, but has never seen Jupiter without at least two or three beks. Some
of the largest of these belts being at least the one eighth part of the diameter
of the planet in breadth, must occupy a space at least 11,000 miles broad, and
270,000 miles in circumference ; for they run along the whole circumference
of the planet, and appear of the same shape during every period of its rotation.
It is probable that the smallest belts we can distinctly perceive by our tele-
scopes are not much less than a thousand miles in breadth.
CAUSES OF THE BELTS.
It is well known that the diurnal motion of the earth, combined with the
heat of the sun acting directly on the intertropical regions, produces those at-
mospheric currents which blow with a constancy and regularity so singular
from east to west in the lower la-titudes of both hemispheres. These currents
are attended with others in a contrary direction, wkick e«n«titute their reac-
tion, blowing almost as constantly and regularly from west to east in the
higher latitudes. Thus the atmosphere covering th« surface of the earth is
continually swept by systems of currents blowing in either direction parallel to
the line — and these currents will have a tendency, in proportion to their force
and regularity, to produce corresponding arrangements parallel to the line, in
MAJOR PLANETS.
241
the clouds which float upon our atmosphere. It is evident that such an effect
Would be more strongly marked in proportion as the energy of the causes pro- >
ducino it would be increased.
In the case of the earth, the surface at the equator is moved by the diurnal
motion at the rate of about a thousand miles an hour ; and the sun, at different
seasons of the year, departs from the equator on either side to a distance of '
twenty-three and a half degrees. If the velocity of the surface of the equator
were to become ten or twenty times greater, and the sun, instead of departing '!
from it twenty-three degrees, were constantly vertical to it, then we might ex- if
pect to have atmospheric currents parallel to the line much more energetic, s
constant, and regular.
But in the case of JUPITER, it will be easily seen that the causes producing
such currents are far more energetic than on the earth. Instead of revolving
in twenty-four hours, Jupiter revolves in ten hours. If, then, the globe of Ju-
piter were equal to that of the earth, the velocity of his surface at the line
would be greater than in the case of the earth in the proportion of two and a
half to one. The velocity of his surface would, in fact, be about two thousand
five hundred miles an hour. But the diameter /of Jupiter, and therefore also
the circumference, is eleven times greater than that of the earth ; and there-
fore, on that account alone, even though he revolved in the same time, the ve-
locity of his surface would be eleven times greater than that of the earth.
From these two causes combined, it follows that the velocity of the surface of
Jupiter at the equator is about twenty-seven and a half times greater than that
of the earth, and is, in fact, twenty-seven thousand five hundred miles an hour.
It is evident, then, that the velocity of the surface of Jupiter produced by his
diurnal revolution being nearly twenty-eight times greater than that of the earth,
and the sun appearing always vertical to his equator, or nearly so, the causes
which produce a system of atmospheric currents parallel to his equator, act
with infinitely more energy than upon the earth. We accordingly see the
effects of such currents exhibited in the decided arrangements of the strata of
his clouds parallel to his equator. Thus we see that there prevail in Jupiter
atmospheric currents similar to those which prevail on the earth, blowing
constantly from east to west in some latitudes, and from west to east in others.
As we cannot doubt that they were intended to fulfil that purpose in the social
intercourse of the people of the globe which they actually do fulfill, we are
supplied with one analogy more to support the conclusion that the planets are
inhabited globes like the earth.
Annexed are two views of Jupiter, showing the appearance of the belts,
taken irom original drawings by Madler, made from observations taken so re-
cently as 1841.
16
APPEARANCE OF THE SUN AT JUPITER.
If E in the annexed figure represent the appearance of the sun to the m-
habitants of the earth, J will represent its appearance to those of Jupiter.
The distance of Jupiter from the sun being nearly five times that of the
THE MAJOR PLANETS. 243
earth, the apparent diameter of the sun as seen from Jupiter will be one fifth
of its apparent diameter from the earth. It will, therefore, measure about six
minutes, since the diameter of the earth measures about thirty minutes. The
apparent magnitude of the sun as we see it, is very nearly that which a cent
piece would have if seen at the distance of one hundred and twenty feet from
the eye. The apparent magnitude of the sun as seen from Jupiter would then
be the same, or nearly so, as that of a cent piece seen at six hundred feet dis-
tance.
. It is proved in those branches of physics in which the laws of heat and
) light are developed, that the density of these principles is diminished in pro-
portion as the square of the distance from the body from which they emanate
is increased. It follows, therefore, that the heat and light of the sun at Jupiter
will be about twenty-five times less than at the earth.
JUPITER'S SATELLITES.
When Galileo directed the first telescope to the examination of Jupiter, he
observed four minute stars, which appeared in the line of the equator of the
planet. He took these at first to be fixed stars ; but he was soon undeceived.
He saw them alternately approach and recede from the planet. He observed
them pass behind it and before it ; and, in fact, to oscillate, as it were, to the
right and the left of the planet, to certain limited distances ; each of the four
stars receding to equal distances east and west of the planet. He soon arrived
at the obvious conclusion that these objects were not fixed stars, but that they
were bodies which revolved round Jupiter in circular orbits, at limited dis-
tances ; and that each successive body included the orbit of the others within
it. In short, that they formed a miniature of the solar system, in which, how-
ever, Jupiter himself played the part of the sun. As the telescope improved,
it became apparent that these bodies were small globes, related to Jupiter in
the same manner exactly as the moon is related to the earth ; that, in fine, they
were a cortege of four moons, attending Jupiter round the sun in the same
manner, and subserving the same purpose, as our moon does in reference to
the earth. v
Thus, then, it seems that the population of Jupiter are favored by four moons
in their firmament. Since the examination of the motion of these bodies has
been carried to a greater extent of accuracy, it has been found that there is a
singular law prevailing among their motions, in virtue of which it is impossible
that the four satellites can ever be at the same time on the same side of Jupiter ;
one, at least, must be on the contrary side from the other three. Thus it fol-
lows that there must always be one moon full, or nearly so ; for if three of the
four satellites be on the same side of Jupiter with the sun, and therefore in
the condition of new or waning moons, the fourth must be on the opposite side,
and therefore nearly a full moon.
But, connected with these appendages to Jupiter, there is perhaps nothing
more remarkable than the period of their revolutions round him. That moon
which is nearest to Jupiter completes its revolution in forty-two hours. In that
brief space of time it goes through all its various phases ; it is a thin crescent ;
it is halved, gibbous, and full. It must be remembered, however, that the day
of Jupiter, instead of being twenty-four hours, is about ten nours. This moon,
therefore, has a month equal to a little more than four of Jupiter's days. In
each day it passes through one complete quarter ; thus the first day of the
month it passes from the thinnest crescent to the half moon ; in the second day,
from the half moon to the full moon ; on the third day, from the full moon to
the last quarter ; and on the fourth day returns to conjunction with the sun.
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
So rapid are these changes that we can conceive the gradual changes of the
phases of the moon to be actually visible as they proceed. The next satellite
makes its complete revolution in about eighty-five hours, or in about eight of Ju-
piter's days and a half. Such is the month of the second satellite. The third
satellite completes his revolution in one hundred and seventy hours, or in about
seventeen days of Jupiter. The fourth and most distant satellite, requires about
four hundred hours, to complete its revolution, and therefore has a month of
about forty of Jupiter's days.
It appears, then, that upon Jupiter there are four different months, correspond-
ing to the four different moons ; one of about four days' duration, another about
eight days, a third about seventeen days, and the fourth about forty days. What
a complicated system of reckoning time is thus supplied !
The magnitude of the nearest of Jupiter's moons is about a quarter greater
than that of our own ; that of the second is equal to ours ; the diameter of the
third, however, is nearly double to that of our moon, and it is nearly equal to the
planet Mercury ; the diameter of the fourth satellite is about one half greater
than that of our moon.
The distance of the nearest moon from the surface of Jupiter is somewhat
less than the distance of ours from the surface of the earth. Its apparent mag-
nitude, therefore, seen from Jupiter, will be greater than ours. The distance
of the second moon from Jupiter is about one half greater than the distance of
our moon, and as its diameter is nearly equal to that of our moon, its apparent
magnitude will be proportionally less. The distance of the third moon is
more than double the distance of ours, but as its magnitude is a little less than
double, its appearance to the inhabitants of Jupiter will be nearly the same as
that of ours. The appearance of the fourth moon will be somewhat less.
Thus it appears that the four moons which attend Jupiter vary very little
in the apparent magnitude they present to its inhabitants from that which ours
presents to the inhabitants of the earth.
One of the peculiarities in the motion of our moon which distinguishes it
in a remarkable manner from the planets, is its revolution upon its axis. It
will be remembered, that the planets generally rotate on their axes in times
somewhat analogous to that of the earth. Now, on the contrary, the moon re-
volves on its axis in the same time that it takes to revolve round the earth ; in
consequence of which adjustment of its motions it turns the same hemisphere
continually toward the earth. It would seem that this is a general character-
istic of all satellites ; for the observations of Sir William Herschel on those
of Jupiter, show that the same motion prevails among them ; that they, as
they revolve round their primary, turn constantly the same hemisphere towajd
Jupiter.
The globe of Jupiter, though of considerable magnitude, is small compared
with that of the sun. In consequence of this it throws in the direction oppo-
site to that of the sun a conical shadow of Considerable length, the thickness of
which, at Jupiter, is equal to the diameter of the planet, but which diminishes until
it is reduced to a point in receding from Jupiter. As the satellites move round
Jupiter, in the plane of his equator, and as the plane of his equator is very {
nearly coincident with that of his orbit round the sun, it follows that the satel-
lites, every revolution, as they pass behind him, must move through his shadow.
The only exception to this is presented by the fourth, or most distant satellite,
which, owing to its great distance from the planet, and the obliquity of its
orbit, sometimes, in passing behind the planet, goes above or below its shadow
When the satellites get into the shadow of Jupiter they become invisible to us ;
and hence we know that they are opaque bodies, which shine, like the moon
by the reflected light of the sun. All the circumstances connected with their
THE MAJOR PLANETS. 245
eclipses are visible to us. We see them enter the shadow and leave' it, and \vr
can estimate the duration of each eclipse, and observe exactly its beginning sn-l
ending. These eclipses, as we shall show on another occasion, have been in-
strumental, not only to useful purposes in art, but also to great discoveries in
sciftnce. It is by them, among other means, that the longitude of places on
the surface of the earth is determined ; but by far the most important discovery
connected with these bodies, is that of the motion and velocity of light. How
this was accomplished we shall also explain on another occasion. It was
shown, however, by these means, that the velocity of reflected light was the
same as that of direct light.
SATURN.
Beyond the orbit of Jupiter, a space equal in extent to the distance of Jupi-
ter from the sun, is unoccupied by any planetary body. At a distance little
short of a thousand millions of miles from the sun, the SATURNIAN SYSTEM
revolves, in a period of twenty-nine years and a half, consisting of a globe little
less than Jupiter, begirt with two (and probably more) stupendous rings, and a
cortege of no less than seven moons.
The diameter of SATURN is eighty thousand miles, and its bulk is, conse-
quently, a thousand times greater than that of the earth.
DIURNAL ROTATION OF SATURN.
The distance of Saturn is so great that it requires the most powerful tele-
scopes to render the marks on his disk visible, so as to discover his diurnal
motion. From purely theoretical views, Laplace conjectured that it was per-
formed in about ten hours. Sir William Herschel, by the aid of the large in-
struments constructed by him, inferred that it revolves in ten hours, sixteen
minutes, and nineteen seconds. Sir John Herschel estimates the time of its
rotation to be ten hours, twenty-nine minutes, and seventeen seconds.
The axis on which it turns is, like that of Jupiter, at right angles to the di-
rection of the belts, but unlike Jupiter, Saturn inclines his axis to the plane of
his orbit in a manner similar to the earth and Mars. The consequence of this
'! arrangement is that the year of Saturn is varied by the same succession of
/ seasons subject to the same range of temperature as those which prevail on our
globe.
The alternation of light and darkness is the same as upon Jupiter. This
rapid return of day, after an interval of five hours night, seems to assume the
character of a law among the major planets, as the interval of twelve hours cer-
tainly does among the minor planets.
The year of Saturn is equal in duration to 10,759 terrestrial days, or to
258,192 hours. But as the rotation of the planet is completed in less than ten
hours and a half, the number of Saturnian days in the planet's year must be
24,592.
The distance of Saturn from the sun being above nine times that of the
earth, the sun's apparent diameter at that planet will be less than at the earth
in a like j roportion. If in the annexed figure E represent the appearance of
the sun at the earth, S will exhibit its appearance at Saturn.
ATMOSPHERE OF SATURN.
The planet Saturn has been found to be invested with an atmosphere similar
to that of Jupiter, and attended in all respects with the same phenomena. The
belts are effects of the same kind, and produced by the same causes, and all
that we have said regarding the atmospheric currents, clouds, and other me-
teorological phenomena, in JUPITER, will be equally applicable in SATURN.
RINGS OF SATURN.
At a very early epoch in the history of the telescope, the application of thai
instrument to the examination of SATURN led to the supposition that the planet 5
was not globular, but oval. Further observation created the impression that
ears or handles were attached to each side of the disk. But as the means
oi observation were farther improved, the astonishing discovery was made that
Saturn is surrounded by a stupendous ring of solid matter lying in the plane of
his equator, the inner edge being at a distance from his surface of about twenty
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
217
thousand miles. More recent observations made by Sir William Herschcl
establish the fact that this ring is not, as was first supposed, a single anmilnr
plate of matter, but has a division by which it is separated into two indepen-
dent rings, one outside the other, which have no mutual point of contact or
connexion. This separation appeared at first, as a dark streak upon tin: surface
of the ring running parallel to its edges. Sir William Herschcl, however,
succeeded in seeing stars which were behind the ring through this apparent
streak, and consequently arrived at the conclusion that it was an opening »r
separation between two independent rings. It was found also that trie sur-
face of the ring was marked by parallel streaks or bands, like the bens of the
planet.
Very recent, observations made at Rome upon this planet, appear 10 counten-
ance the supposition that the ring, instead of being double, is qtum.iple, and
that there are four divisions instead of one, as supposed by Sir Winiam Her-
schel. It is even said that six divisions have been observed, and therefore
'there are seven independent rings, one within another, all being concentric
with the planet and in the plane of its equator.
One of the most striking discoveries of Sir William Herscuel respecting
Saturn, was the revolution of the rings around the planet. He found that they
revolve round their own centre and that of the planet in their own plane, and
that they complete a revolution in the same time that a satellite would revolve-
in, at the same distance. Their motion, therefore, is conformable to the laws
of gravitation which would govern that of satellites or moons. Tne dimension!?
of the rings, as observed by Sir William Herschel, are as follows : —
Miles.
Exterior diameter of exterior ring 176,418
Interior diameter of exterior ring 155,272
Breadth of exterior ring . . 10,573
Exterior diameter of interior ring 151,690
Interior diameter of interior ring 1 17,339
Breadth of the interior ring 17,175
Equatorial diameter of the planet 79, 1 60
Interval between the planet and the interior ring 19,090
Interval of the rings 1,791
Thickness of the rings not exceeding 100
It appears then that the thickness of the rings is incomparably smaller than
thcirbreadth ; the thickness being not more than the three hundredth part of
the breadth.
One of the circumstances attending the contemplation of the planet Saturn
which excites most surprise, is the fact that the planet and the two rings should
be capable of maintaining their relative position with the prodigious velocity
with which they move round the sun, without either overtaking the other or
any collision taking place. Let it be remembered that the circumference of
Saturn's orbit round the sun measures about six thousand millions of miles, and
that the planet completes this circuit in less than thirty years, so that he moves
at the rate of about seven millions and three quarter miles per day, or three
hundred and twenty-five thousand miles an hour. This is a velocity six hun-
dred ;md fifty times greater than that of a cannon-ball. Yet with this prodigious
celerity of motion continued for countless ages, neither of the rings has ever
overtaken the planet or the planet overtaken them, and still more wonderful,
the two rings, separated only by a space of about eighteen hundred miles,
which they would move over with their orbitual motion in about three minutes,
have never overtaken each other. This astonishing precision of movement
would become still more surprising if it be true, as' it is suspected to be, that
there are five or more independent rings, one included within the other.
248 THE MAJOR PLANETS.
This apparent mystery has however been most clearly and beautifully ex-
plained by Biot, to whom the happy idea occurred that the rings could be
brought under the same laws of motion as moons. To make this explanation
clearly understood, let us first imagine a globe like the moon moving period-
ically round the planet like the earth. The manner in which the attraction of
gravitation combined with centrifugal force causes it to keep revolving round
the earth without falling down upon it by its gravity on the one hand, or
receding indefinitely from it by the centrifugal force on the other is well
understood. In virtue of the equality of these forces, the moon keeps con-
tinually at the same distance from the earth while it accompanies the earth
round the sun. Now it would be easy to suppose another moon revolving by
the same law of attraction at the same distance from the earth. It would re-
volve in the same time, and with the same velocity, as the first. We may ex-
tend the supposition with equal facility to three, four, or a hundred moons, at
the same distance. Nay, we may suppose as many moons placed at the same
distance round the earth as would complete the circle, so as to form a ring of
moons touching each other. They would still move in the mame manner and
with the same velocity as the single moon. Nor will the circumstances be
altered if this ring of moons be supposed to be beaten out into a thin flat ring
like those of Saturn. It is plain, then, that if the ring of Saturn revolve in its
own plane round the planet in the same time as that in *hich a single satellite
placed at the same distance would revolve, the stability of the ring with refer-
ence to the planet is explicable exactly upon the same principles as those by
which we explain the motion of a satellite. But Sir William Herschel, as has
been already stated, discovered the important fact that the rings do move round
their own centre and that of the planet in the same time that a satellite placed
at the same distance would do. Biot, therefore, has, with a happy adroitness,
adopted this as the key to the explanation of the stability of the ring.
The following observations of Sir John Herschel on the rings indicated
another cause of their stability : —
Although the rings are, as we have said, very nearly concentric with the
body of Saturn, yet recent micrometical measurements of extreme delicacy have
demonstrated that the coincidence is not mathematically exact, but that the
centre of gravity of the rings oscillates round that of the body describing a
very minute orbit, probably under laws of much complexity. Trifling as this
remark may appear, it is of the utmost importance to the stability of the sys-
tem of the rings. Supposing them mathematically perfect in their circular
form, and exactly concentric with the planet, it is demonstrable that they would
form (in spite of their centrifugal force) a system in a state of unstable equilib-
rium, which the slightest external power would subvert — not by causing a rup-
ture in the substance of the rings — but by precipitating them, unbroken, on the
surface of the planet. For the attraction of such a ring or rings cm a point or
sphere eccentrically situate within them, is not the same in ill directions, but
tends to draw the point or sphere toward the nearest part of .e ring, or away
from the centre. Hence, supposing the body to become, from any cause, ever /
so litt.e eccentric to the ring, the tendency of their mutual gravity is, not to >
correc; but to increase this eccentricity, and to bring the nearest parts of them
together. Now, external powers, capable of producing such eccentricity, exist
in the attractions of the satellites ; and in order that the system may be stable,
and possess within itself a power of resisting the first inroads of such a ten-
dency, while yet nascent and feeble, and opposing them by an opposite or
maintaining power, it has been shown that it is sufficient to admit the rings to
be loaded in some part of their circumference, either by some minute inequality
of thickness, or by some portions being denser than others. Such a load
THE MAJOR PLANETS. 249
would give to the whole ring to which it was attached somewhat of the charac-
ter of a heavy and sluggish satellite, maintaining itself in an orbit with a cer-
tain energy sufficient to overcome minute causes of disturbance, and establish
an average bearing on its centre. But even without supposing the existence
of any such load — of which, after all, we have no proof — and granting, there-
fore, in its full extent, the general instability of the equilibrium, we think we
perceive, in the periodicity of all the causes of disturbance, a sufficient guar-
antee of its preservation. However homely be the illustration, we can con-
ceive nothing more apt in every way to give a general conception of this main-
tenance of equilibrium under a constant tendency to subversion, than the mode
in which a practised hand will sustain a long pole in a perpendicular position
resting on the finger, by a continual and almost imperceptible variation of the
point of support. Be that, however, as it may, the observed oscillation of the
centres of the rings about that of the planet is in itself the evidence of a per-
petual contest between conservative and destructive powers — both extremely
feeble, but so antagonizing one another, as to prevent the latter from ever ac-
quiring an uncontrollable ascendency, and rushing to a catastrophe.
Since the plane of the rings coincides with that of Saturn's equator, and since
the sun is during one half of Saturn's year north, and during the other half south
of his equator, it follows that the northern side of the ring is illuminated, and the
southern side dark, during the summer half year of his northern hemisphere,
and that the southern side is illuminated and the northern side dark during the
winter half year of his northern hemisphere. At his equinoxes the edge of
the ring is presented to the sun, and neither side of it is illuminated. Since
the half year of Saturn is equal to fifteen terrestrial years, it follows that the
northern and southern sides of the rings are alternately illuminated by the sun
during intervals of fifteen years.
It is evident that the rings can only be seen from the earth when the
sun and earth are at the same side of Saturn's equator. From the great
magnitude of Saturn's orbit, compared with that of the earth, this must be
generally the case. In order that the sun and earth should be at opposite
sides of the plane of the ring, that plane must be so placed that its edge is di-
rected to some point between the sun and earth. This will be the case for a
short time before and after it is directed to the sun, that is to say, a little be-
fore and after Saturn's equinox.
If we suppose two lines touching the earth's annual orbit, and parallel to the
line of nodes of Saturn's ring, to be drawn and continued in both directions to
Saturn, it will be only when Saturn is between these lines that the earth and
sun can be at different sides of the ring. These lines will include a length of
( the orbit of Saturn equal to the diameter of the orbit of .the earth, and since
) Saturn will move over such a space in his periodical course round the sun in
(! one year, it follows that the sun and earth must be always at the same side
( of Saturn's ring, except for six months before and six months after each of
Saturn's equinoxes, at which times it may happen that the sun and earth may
be on opposite sides of the rings.
Saturn's rings may become invisible from the earth by any of three causes.
1 . When the edge of the rings be presented to the sun, the edge being then
the only illuminated part, and being too thin to be seen even by telescopes at
so great a distance, the ring is invisible. This will happen once every h'iteen
years.
2. When the edge of the ring is presented to the earth, it is invisible be-
cause of its minuteness and distance. This will happen once every fifteen years.
3. When the sun and earth are on opposite sides of the ring. This will
) also happen once every fifteen years.
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
Except therefore for an interval of a few months every fifteen years, the
rings of Saturn are always in a position to be seen from the earth. Thr.se cir-
cumstances occur when the planet passes through the twentieth degrees of tin-
signs Virgo and Pisces. They took place in the year 1832-'33, and will recur
again in 1847-'48.
The angle at which the plane of the rings is inclined to that of the ecliptic
being about 30°, the rings must always be seen obliquely from the earth, more
or less so, as the earth is more or less distant from the plane of the rings, but
the obliquity of. the view can never be less than 30°. Now, since a circle
seen obliquely is always foreshortened into an oval, the appearance of
the rings, even in the most favorable position must be elliptical. If a circle be
viewed at an angle of 30°, it will be seen as an ellipse whose lesser axis is
half its greater. Such is the form of the ring as seen at intervals of seven
years and a half from Saturn's equinoxes, or when the planet is in the siuns
Scorpio and Gemini, which takes place at the middle of the intervals of the
disappearances of the rings. This occurred last in 1839-'40, and will occur
again in 1854-'55. Between the epochs at which the ring is in its most
open state, and the times of its disappearances it undergoes all the intermedi-
ate phases.
In the annexed figures the appearances it presented between 1832 and 1840
are given from the observations of William Dick.
In October, November, and December, 1832, the ring appeared as in fig. 1.
In the beginning of January, it appeared like a pure thread of light on each
side of the planet as in fig. 2. It began to appear a little larger during die
months of January, February, and March, 1833 ; but in April it again disap-
peared as the earth was then in the plane of the ring, and it continued invisible
till near the end of June ; after which it again appeared as represented in fig.
2. In about a year after its second disappearance, it appeared as in fig. 3, and
a year and a half afterward was seen as in fig. 4. In 1837 it appeared as
in fig. 5, and finally assumed its most open form, as represented in fig. 6.
From 1838 to 1847, the ring gradually passes through similar phases in a
contrary order.
SATELLITES OF SATURN
On examining Saturn with powerful telescopes, it is found to be attended by
objects revolving round it similar in all respects to the satellites of Jupiter, but
amounting to seven in number. These revolve nearly in the plane of the ring
and beyond that body. The times of revolution are such as to present various
and interesting appearances to the inhabitants of the planet. The nearest
satellite, makes its complete revolution in 22^ hours, which is equivalent to
about two of Saturn's days. This moon, therefore, exhibits all its various
changes within that time. It passes from the crescent to the first quarter
in half of one of Saturn's days ; from the first quarter to the full moon in an-
other half day. and from the full to the new moon in another half day ; so rapid
is the succession of its phases. The next in the order of distance, makes its
revolutions in thirty-three hours, or in about three of Saturn's days, which
constitutes another sort of month ; within which it passes through all its vari-
ous phases. The third revolves in forty-five hours, or abouv four of Saturn's
days ; the fourth in seventy-five hours, or about seven and a half of Saturn's
days ; the fifth in one hundred and eight hours, or nearly eleven of Saturn's
days ; the sixth in about three hundred and eighty hours, or in about thirty-
eight of Saturn's days ; the seventh in about nineteen hundred hours, or one
252
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
hundred and eighty of Saturn's days. Such are the seven different months
prevalent upon SATURN.
The magnitudes of the satellites of Saturn have not been certainly ascer-
tained ; their distances from the earth are too great to enable us hitherto, ac-
tually to measure their diameters.
Sir John Herschel estimates the diameter of the most remote satellite to be
little less than that of Mars, which is 4,200 miles. The next to it cannot be
much less, being the most conspicuous in its appearance. As to the magni-
tudes of the four minor satellites, we are left to conjecture.
It is usual to designate these bodies in the order of their discovery, and not
in the order of their distances from Saturn. If the following figures represent
the succession of their distances, the order of their discovery is that expressed
above the figures respectively : —
Seventh, Sixth, First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth.
1 234567
The distance of the nearest satellite from the surface of Saturn does not ex-
ceed 80,000 miles, a space equal to one diameter of the planet. Its distance
beyond the edge of the ring is only 18,000 miles.
This moon completes its revolution round Saturn in 22^ hours, or a little
more than two Saturniah days. In one of the planet's days it passes therefore
from new to full moon, and in the next from full to new moon. Its change of
phase from hour to hour must, be distinctly perceivable.
It is probable, from analogy, that its magnitude is greater than that of our
moon, and since its distance from the surface of Saturn is three times less than
that, of our moon, its apparent diameter at Saturn must be more than three
times greater. It will therefore appear with a disk at least ten times as great
as that of our moon.
The next moon is at a distance of 160,000 miles from the centre, and 120,000
miles from the surface of Saturn, which being half the distance of our moon
from the earth, shows that if, as is probable, this satellite be equal in magnitude
to our moon, it will appear with a disk four times as great. It completes its
revolution in three of Saturn's days, within which time it exhibits all its phases.
The moon next in order is at a distance of 200,000 miles from the centre
and 160,000 from the surface of the planet. It appears a little less than four
times larger than our moon and goes through all its phases in less than five
of Saturn's days.
The next satellite is at a distance of 260,000 miles from the centre and
220,000 miles from the surface of Saturn, and therefore appears larger at Sat-
urn than our moon does at the earth. It passes through all its phases in six
and a half of Saturn's days.
Thus' it appears that Saturn is supplied with four moons, all moving nearer
to his surface than ours is to the earth, and appearing from twice to ten times as
large, and passing through all their phases in from two to seven of Saturn's days.
The fifth moon from Saturn, completing its month in eleven and a half of
Saturn's days, is at a distance a little greater than that of our moon, and prob-
ably appears of the same magnitude seen from Saturn. The sixth moon, com-
pleting its month in forty of Saturn's days, is at more than three times the dis-
tance of our moon, but is twice its diameter. It appears from Saturn but little
less than ours. The most remote of this system of moons completes its rev-
olution in two hundred Satumian days, and its distance from Saturn is ten
times that of our moon from the earth. This is the largest moon of the sys-
tem, but still, owing to its great distance, must appear smaller at Saturn than
ours does at the earth.
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
253
The orbits of the six inner satellites are nearly in the plane of the ring, but
that of the most remote one is inclined to it at the rather large angle of 30°.
Owing to the great obliquity of the orbits of the satellites to that of Saturn,
they are seldom eclipsed. The frequency of the eclipses of the satellites of
Jupiter, is a consequence of the fact that their orbits are nearly in the plane of
that of the planet.
The most remote of Saturn's moons (commonly called the fifth satellite)
exhibits variations of brilliancy which have given ground for the conjecture
that those moons, like our own and those of Jupiter, revolve on their axes in
the time they take to revolve in their orbits.
The two innermost satellites were the latest discovered, and are by far the
most difficult to be seen. It is only by means of telescopes of the most power-
ful kind, and under circumstances most favorable to observation, that they can
be detected at all. Those who have been so fortunate as to possess instru-
ments capable of observing them, say that at the equinoxes of Saturn, when
his ring becomes invisible, they have been seen threading like beads the al-
most infinitely thin filament of light to which the ring is then reduced, and for
a short time moving off it at either end, speedily to return, and hastening again
to their habitual concealment.
OF HERSCHEL, OR URANUS.
The planet of the solar system which is the most remote from the sun, and
which, there are strong reasons for believing to be the extreme limit of the
system, is called Uranus, and sometimes, from its distinguished discover-
er, Herschel. This body is a globe 35,000 miles in diameter, the bulk of
which is about eighty times that of the earth ; and it revolves at a distance
from the sun of eighteen hundred millions of miles ; being double the dis-
tance of Saturn. The great distance of this object from the earth and the
consequent minuteness of its appearance, has rendered our knowledge of its
physical condition much less distinct and satisfactory than those of the nearer
planets.
It has been hitherto unascertained whether it has a diurnal rotation ; but
analogy favors the conjecture that it revolves rapidly upon its axis like the
cognate planets, Jupiter and Saturn. The disk has not been seen with suffi-
cient distinctness to detect upon it those indications which would decide the
question, whether it is invested with an atmosphere.
The period for this planet going round the sun is eighty-four terrestrial years,
and as the date of its discovery was 1781, it has not yet made a complete rev-
olution since astronomical observation was first directed to it. It is a striking
example of the power of science, that we are nevertheless as certainly assured
of its periodical path round the sun, as if it had been observed for a long suc-
cession of its periods like other planets.
Being nearly twenty times farther from the sun than the earth, the diameter
of the sun will appear to it proportionally less ; and as the sun's apparent diameter
at the earth is thirty minutes, it will subtend at Herschel at an angle of only a
minute and a half. "We subjoin here a diagram in which, if we suppose the
larger circle E, to represent the appearance of the sun as seen from the earth ;
the smaller one H, will represent its appearance as seen from Herschel.
As the intensity of solar light diminishes in the same proportion as the su-
perficial magnitude of the sun's disk diminishes, it will follow that the bright-
ness of day at the planet Herschel must be between three and four hundred
times less than at the earth ! We might be led, however, from such a numer- i
ical estimate to form a very incorrect estimate of what the solar light under ]
254
THE MAJOR PLANETS.
such circumstances must really be. The light of the full moon is about three
hundred thousand times less than that of the sun ; consequently it follows that
the light of day at Herschel will be equal to the light of more than one thou-
sand full moons.
Independent of this consideration, however it will be remembered, as we
have urged on another occasion, that the perception of the brightness of light,
does not depend only upon the density of the light itself; but also, upon the
magnitude of the pupil of the eye and the sensibility of the retina. Nothing
^ can be more easy to imagine than a very small alteration of the proportions of
? the eye, without even the necessity of admitting any in its structure, which
7 would render the light of the sun at Herschel as efficient for the purpose of
> vision as at the earth.
It has been, in various popular works, and even in some strictly scientific
treatises, urged that the cold which prevails at this and other remote planets,
must be so intense that the liquids of our globe could not exist there ; and, on
the other hand, that at the piauet Mercury, a degree of heat must exist equally
THE MAJOR PLANETS. 255
i incompatible with the existence of physical arrangements similar to those
(i which prevail upon the earth ; such inferences are, as we conceive, premature
and unfounded. They are based upon the supposition that the temperature
depends solely upon the uensity of the solar rays. Now we have noticed else-
where the fact, that other agencies are concerned in the production of tempera-
ture, and have given as an example all the varieties of temperature which pre-
vail between the tropics at different elevations.
In the valleys and planes of these regions, we find their proper climate; as-
cending the tropical ranges, at great elevations we encounter all the vegetable
phenomena of temperate climates, and at still greater elevations we arrive at a
temperature as rigorous as that at the poles. How easy is it, then, to conceive
atmospheres and geographical arrangements provided on other planets, which,
combined with the peculiar intensity of solar light and heat, shall produce
a result which will fix the general temperature of any of the planets within the
same limits that restrain it on the surface of the earth.
NEPTUNE.
This is the most remote and the latest discovered of all the large planets.
The extraordinary circumstances attending its discovery have given to this planet
a special interest. After the discovery of Uranus, efforts were made to reduce
its motions to the known laws of gravitation, but they were found to be very
irregular, and seemed to be under some unknown influence. Many were dis-
posed to attribute these irregularities to a relaxation of the rigorous laws of gra-
vitation in those distant regions of space, while others conceived the possible
existence of a remote undiscovered planet, whose attraction drew Uranus out
of its regular orbit.
Leverrier, an astronomer of Paris, determined to investigate these irregular-
ities, and, if possible, discover the unknown planet which caused them. He
first calculated the disturbing influence of all the known bodies in the solar
system. This did not account for all the deviations of Uranus. He therefore
pursued his investigations ; calculated the distance, mass, inclination and revo-
lution of the unseen planet, and on the 31st of August, 1846, read a memoir
of the results before the Academy of Sciences ; even pointing out the place in
the heavens where the strange planet would probably appear. This wonderful
account excited the greatest interest among astronomers, yet, such was the
difficulty of the problem, that few could believe the prediction These misgiv-
ings were soon dissipated. On the 1st of September, Leverrier wrote to Dr.
Galle of Berlin, asking him to direct his telescope to that point in the heavens
where he supposed it to be. On the very first evening of examination, Dr.
Galle discovered the long-sought planet within one degree of the place predicted.
Mr. Adams, of Cambridge, England, had discussed the same problem, and
had reached results very near those of Leverrier. The new planet was watched
by astronomers to determine if its elements agreed with the prediction. As it
moved extremely slow, this would have required a long series of years, but for
a remarkable discovery by Mr. S. C. Walker, at Washington, D. C. He
traced its orbit backward, and found the planet marked twice as a star in the
catalogue of Lelande, as far back as 1795, which gave sufficient data to com-
pute its entire orbit. .
The mean distance of Neptune from the. Sun is 2,862,457,000 miles. The
eccentricity of its orbit is comparatively small, 49,940,000. It revolves
around the Sun in 60,126f days. Its orbi't is inclined to the ecliptic. 1° 47'. <
Neptune is 31,000 miles "in diameter. A satellite has been discovered, and J
256 THE MAJOR PLANETS.
there may be several in attendance upon it. From irregularities in its telesco-
pic appearance, some astronomers have supposed it to be surrounded by a ring
similar to Saturn's. Owing to the immense distance of this new world many
of its peculiarities must remain unknown to us. if is invisible to the naked .
eye, and has only a small diameter seen through the largest telescope, being *
equal in brightness to a star of the eighth magnitude. Four or five generations
of mankind pass away during the long period of its revolution, equal to nearly
165 of our years. The distance of Neptune being about thirty times greater
than that of the Earth from the Sun, it follows that the apparent diameter of
the Sun, seen from that remote world, is only ^ of the diameter seen by us,
or, as the Sun appears 30' wide to us, it must appear only 1' wide from Nep-
tune, and consequently the amount of light and heat must be about nine-hun-
dred times less than to us. Suppose the smaller of the two circles representing
the Sun on page 254 to be reduced one-third in diameter, which would make
it 2 ^ times less in area ; then its contrast with the larger circle will show the
comparative degree of light and heat at Neptune and the Earth. Its light is,
nevertheless, equal to that of more than three hundred and thirty full moons,
and the physical arrangements of the planet may be calculated to greatly
modify it.
^s^^r*^*^*
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
Ray of Light. — Pencil of Light. — Reflection. — Irregular Reflection. — Regular Reflection. — Different
Powers of Reflection in different Bodies. — Reflection at plane Surfaces. — Its Laws. — Image of an
Object in a plane Reflector. — Rejection of curved Surfaces. — Concave Reflectors. — Convex Re-
flectors.— Images in spherical Reflectors. — Illusion of the air-drawn Dagger. — Effects of common-
Looking-Glasses analyzed. — A flattering Glass explained. — Metallic Specula. — Reflection in Li-
quids.— Image of the Banks of a Lake or River.
IT
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
THE physical theories by which the phenomena connected with the propa-
gation of light are explained, have been given with some details on another
occasion. We shall now notice some of the more simple and elementary laws
of optics, which must stand undisturbed, whatever theory of light may be adopted.
Whether light consists of undulations, or of corpuscles of matter, sui generis,
it is invariably propagated in straight lines so long as it passes through the
same medium ; the straight line along which the light holds its course is called
a ray of light, and any collection of such lines of definite thickness is called a
pencil of light.
If the rays composing the pencil be parallel to each other, the pencil is
called a parallel pencil ; if the rays intersect each other at a point, the pencil
is said to diverge from or converge to that point according to the direction in
which the light is conceived to move, and the pencil is accordingly called a
converging or diverging pencil.
If rays of light, after passing in straight lines through any uniform medium, en-
counter the boundary or surface of another medium of a different kind, they will
either turn back and take other directions in the medium from which they came,
or they will enter the new medium, and will in general take new directions in
it. In the former case the second medium is said to be opaque, and the rays
are said to be reflected from its surface ; in the latter case it is said to be
transparent, and the rays are sakjl to be refracted by it.
Reflection and refraction are then two very important effects to which light
•is subject, and it will be both interesting and profitable briefly to notice the lead-
ing principles that govern these phenomena.
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
The surfaces of opaque bodies reflect the light incident upon them in
various ways, and produce a corresponding variety of effects thereby on the
sense of sight.
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
All ordinary surfaces are more or less rough. The light which falls upon
them is irregularly reflected by them ; each point upon them being illuminated,
disperses the light which strikes upon it in every direction around it, and it
is thus that the point itself becomes visible to an eye placed anywhere within
view of it. The surfaces of bodies in general are by this means seen from
every quarter around.
But as the light of the sun is of one uniform color and quality, it will be
asked how it happens that the surfaces of different bodies and different parts
of the surface of the same body produce different effects upon vision, appear-
ing to have a variety of colors and tints of colors. If they reflect to the eye
no light except that which falls upon them, and if that which falls upon them
be all of a uniform quality, how, it may be asked, does it happen that the
light reflected by different surfaces impresses the eye with the perception of
different colors ? In answer to this it is necessary to explain that although
the light of the sun is, in a certain sense, of a uniform quality and color, it is
nevertheless not simple and homogeneous ; it is, in fact, a compound principle,
produced by the mixture of lights of different colors in different proportions.
It is this mixture which produces the white light of the sun.
Now, the surfaces of opaque bodies are endowed with various properties of
reflecting light. Some possess the virtue of reflecting light, of one color, while
they absorb or extinguish light of another. One, for example, will have a
strong power of reflecting red light, but will be altogether incapable of reflect-
ing blue light ; in short, various surfaces have infinitely various powers of
reflecting lights of different colors.
Why, then, does one opaque object appear to the eye red, while another
appears blue ? Because in the compound light of the sun, which equally falls
on both of these objects, there is contained both red and blue light ; the sur-
face of the object which appears red absorbs or extinguishes all the elements
of the solar light except the red rays which it reflects ; and the object, which
appears blue, on the other hand, absorbs all the elements of the solar light ex-
cept the blue rays, which alone are reflected by it.
Thus it appears that all objects, Avhether natural or artificial, derive their
peculiar tints of color from the property which they possess of decomposing
solar light. Such elementary colors as they have the power of reflecting blend-
ed together produce the peculiar tints which characterize them, the other con-
stituents of the solar light being stopped.
But besides the colors presented by visible objects, they exhibit various de-
grees of illumination, or, what is familiarly called, various degrees of light and
shade. Ttois arises from the more or less favorable position which different
parts of their surfaces have with respect to the light which falls upon them, and
it is by this means that the form and shape of bodies are perceivable by the
eye. '
Buf if the surface of an opaque body, instead of being more or less rough,
so as to render each of its points separately a centre of reflected light, could
be rendered perfectly smooth and polished, then the light would not be re-
flected from it in the manner now described. The various points upon it would
not then become centres from which light would be dispersed in every direc-
tion ; on the contrary, the rays of light falling on such a surface would be re-
flected by peculiar laws.
REFLECTION AT PLANE SURFACES.
Let us suppose that A B,fig. l,is such a surface, and that a ray of light proceed-
ing from the sun at S illuminates a point I, placed upon this surface. In the
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
former case, the light striking at I or a part of it, would be dispersed in every
direction above the surface A B, so as to render the point I visible to an eye
placed anywhere in the space above A B. But such is not the case when the
surface A B is perfectly smooth and polished. In that case, the light proceed-
ing from S and striking on I, will be reflected only in one direction, viz., as if
jt came from a point D as far behind A B as S is before it. Thus if we draw
S A at right angles to A B, and continue it until A D is equal to A S, then the
light will be reflected along I O as if it came from D.
As a consequence of this, it follows that the incident light S I and the re-
flected light I O make equal angles with the reflecting surface A B.
This is a universal and very important law of optics, and is usually ex-
pressed thus : —
When a ray of light falls on a perfectly polished, reflecting surface, it is
so reflected that the angle of reflection shall be equal to the angle of incidence.
In the diagram, A I S is the angle of incidence, and 0 I B is the angle of re-
flection.
But if a surface such as A B, fig. 2, be exposed to a source of light, it is not one
Fig. 2.
point, but every point of it. that will be illuminated. Rays in fact will diverge
from S, and will strike upon all points of A B. From what has been already
stated, it will be apparent that, after reflection, they will each of them proceed
as if they had originally diverged from D. The effect, therefore, ol the re-
flecting surface A B will be to convert a pencil of rays, which diverges from '
262
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
Such is the simple explanation of the effects of common plane mirrors.
If we stand before a mirror, each point of our persons emits light of a peculiar
color, which, diverging, falls on the surface of the mirror, and is reflected by
that surface as if it came from a person exactly resembling ourselves in form
and color, facing us, and standing at the same distance behind the mirror that
we are before it
The form of an object thus rendered optically visible by a mirror is techni-
cally called its image.
It is evident, from what has been stated, that if I stand before a mirror and
see my person in it, the image of my right arm being immediately opposite to
that arm and behind the mirror, will be the left arm of the image ; and in like
manner, the image of my left arm will be the right arm of the image. It is the
same with the images of all objects formed by plane reflectors : right becomes
left, and left right ; in other words, the image is reversed laterally.
In some cases, as will be seen hereafter, optical images are not merely re-
versed laterally, but inverted vertically, so as to be seen upside down. This
is, however, not the case with plane mirrors ; for the head and the feet of the
image being on the other side of the mirror merely at the same distance be-
hind it as the head and the feet of the object are before it, the head will be at
the top and the feet at the bottom of the image. Objects are therefore seen
erect in plane mirrors.
In cases where the arrangement from right to left is essential, the images
produced by plane mirrors become defective for the ordinary purposes of exhi-
the point F, into another which will have the effect of diverging from the
point D.
Now let us suppose a visible object, such as S S', fig. 3, placed in front of a
plane mirror, such as A B. Each point of that object will be a separate source
of light of the peculiar tint which may characterize the object. The light which I
proceeds from each of these points falling on the surface A B, will be reflected £
as if it came from a corresponding point behind the mirror ; and an eye placed (
anywhere before the mirror, as at O, will receive that light exactly as it would
receive it if the body which is at S S' were really at D D'. Consequently,
the eye will see an object at D D' exactly similar to S S'.
Fig. 3.
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
bition. Thus a printed word, or an inscription, when held before a mirror, will
be altogether deranged ; it will have the same appearance to the eye as the !
types have from which it is printed.
REFLECTION AT CURVED SURFACES.
I
Whatever be the form of a curved surface, it may be conceived to consist of
separate parts of such small dimensions that each of them may be considered
as a portion of a sphere or globe ; and therefore if the principles which regu-
late the reflection of light from a spherical surface be known, the effects of
curved surfaces of other forms maybe easily investigated. We shall therefore
confine our observations here to the reflection of light from perfectly smooth
spherical surfaces.
CONCAVE REFLECTORS.
LetM A M', fig. 4, represent a portion of a concave spherical reflecting surface,
and let S represent a point from which light diverges ; let C be the centre of
the spherical surface. A ray of light falling from S upon the point I, will be
reflected in the direction I R, so as to make the angle RIG equal to the angle
SIC. If the point S be very near to or in the line* A C, and at a very great
distance from the reflector, then the point R will be at the middle of the dis-
tance C A, so that it will divide the radius C A into two equal parts.
Fig. 4.
If the point S be in any object, the corresponding point R will be its image,
and in like manner the images of all the other points will be formed.
When a concave speculum is presented to a very distant object, an image of
that object will be formed in front of the speculum, and at a distance from it
equal to half its radius. This image, however, will be inverted.
If the object be not at a very great distance from the reflector, its image
will be formed at a point farther from the surface than half the radius, and will
still be inverted.
In a convex reflecting surface, the image of an object placed in front will be
formed behind the reflecting surface ; as in the case of a plane mirror, it will
be erect and smaller than the object.
The positions assumed by the images of objects formed by concave and
convex reflectors, have rendered this species of mirrors amusing means of oc-
casional optical exhibition.
If an object be placed in front of a convex mirror, its image will be formed
behind the mirror at a distance something less than half the radius of the con-
vexity. This image will be always erect, but will be smaller than the object ;
and the more distant the object is from the mirror, the smaller will be the
image.
Whatever be the form of the object, the image will have a tendency to a
convex form, and consequently such mirrors always produce distortion.
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
If an object be placed before a concave mirror at a distance from it greater
than that of the geometric centre of its curvature, an image wiA be formed of
this object in front of the mirror at a distance from its surface greater than half
its radius.
This image will be inverted, and will be less than the object ; as the object
approaches the centre of the curvature of the mirror, the image will also ap-
proach that point, and thus the object and image will approach each other ; the
image will at the same time be increased in magnitude. If the object be
placed within the centre of curvature of the mirror, but farther from its surface
than half its radius, a magnified image will be formed at a distance more or
less considerable in front of the mirror. Thus, let us suppose that a mirror
formed with a curvature having a radius of four feet, has an object in front of it
at a distance of three feet from its surface • an image of that object will be
formed at six feet in front of the mirror, and this image will be double the
height or length of the object.
In this mariner, a mirror placed out of sight of a person may be made to
throw the image of an object close to him ; thus a dagger may be presented
to one's bosom, which, however, is literally an air-drawn dagger.
The only form of reflecting surface which presents an object in its natural
position and proportions is the plane mimfr commonly used for domestic pur-
poses ; and even this, as already explained, reverses the object laterally — ma-
king right left, and left right. For the purposes, however, to which it is usually
applied, this derangement does not impair its utility.
The perfection with which a mirror presents the image of an object placed
before it depends upon its form and material. It is, above all things, essential
that its surface should be perfectly plain and even ; any deficiency in this qual
ity will produce a corresponding distortion of the image. Cheap looking-
glasses are often striated and streaked with inequalities and ridges, which render
them nearly useless. Whatever be the substance used to form a mirror, apart
only of the light which falls upon it will be instrumental in forming the image.
The entire quantity of light which falls on the mirror may be accounted for as
follows : —
1 . A part will be regularly reflected according to the laws above explained
and it is by this part the image will be formed.
2. Another part will be irregularly reflected — that is to say, it will be scat-
tered in every direction around from every part of the surface. It is this por-
tion of the light which renders the surface of the mirror visible.
3. A part will be absorbed upon the reflecting surface and lost.
The more highly polished and even the reflecting surface is, the less will
be the part irregularly reflected, and the brighter will be the image. The part
of the light absorbed or stopped will depend on the physical quality of the
matter of which the reflector is formed.
Since art cannot produce a perfect reflecting surface, there will always
be a portion of the incident light irregularly reflected and absorbed. It follows,
therefore, that light is always lost in reflection ; and in the case of plane mir-
rors, where the magnitude of the image is equal to that of the object, the bright-
ness of the image must always be less than that of the object.
There is no substance which reflects with equal facility all tints of color.
It generally happens that lights of one tint are more absorbed than the lights
of another. Mirrors, therefore, will produce a change more or less according
to their degree of imperfection in the tints which characterize the object before
them ; in other words, the color or tints of the image will not correspond ex- i
actly with those of the object.
It is therefore a fact true in science, although sometimes ridiculed, that <
REFLECTION OP LIGHT.
2G5
different looking-glasses will present a more or less agreeable representation
of the person who uses them, according to the colors which they may happen
to absorb. Thus, if a mirror has a tendency to absorb the red tints, it
will give a pallid tint to the complexion ; whereas, if it absorb the blue tints,
it will throw a blush over the appearance, and may be called a flattering
glass.
Glass is the most convenient material for mirrors intended for domestic use,
because it is the cheapest and most durable ; but it is far from being the best.
Its defects will become apparent by considering the mode in which its effects
are produced. A coating of metallic foil is attached to the hinder surface of
the glass, and by the mode of its adhesion a smooth metallic surface is thus
formed under or behind the glass. It is this surface, and not the front of the
glass, which is the real mirror : it is by it that the images of objects in front
of the looking-glass are produced. The light has to pass through the
thickness of the glass to reach this surface, and after being reflected by it,
has again to pass through its thickness in order to reach the eye and pro-
duce a perception of the image. There are here three successive stages in
which light is lost. A part only of the light which strikes upon the front
surface of the glass penetrates it, and a part of what does penetrate it is lost
upon the hinder surface ; and again, after reflection, in issuing through the
front surface, another portion is lost.
But the loss of light is not the only defect : in passing through the glass,
partial absorption of color takes place ; and hence, as has been already stated,
the tints of the image will beVdifferent from those of the object.
A portion of the light which falls on the front surface of the glass is regu-
larly reflected, and produces a faint image of the object, which, by careful
observation, may be easily distinguished a little in front of the stronger image
produced by the silvered surface. The distance of this faint image in front of
the other will be equal to the thickness of the glass.
It is evident, from what has been just observed, that the thinner the glass is,
the better will be the mirror.
The defects which have been just explained have rendered glass reflectors
inapplicable to telescopes or any of the class of superior optical instruments
used for scientific purposes. In these instruments metallic reflectors alone
are used. An alloy of metals is selected for this purpose as white as possible
in color, and susceptible of a high polish. A very accurate figure is imparted
to it and a very perfect polish by various processes known in the arts. Al-
though with such reflectors incomparably less light is lost than in common
looking-glasses, still a much greater loss of light takes place than in trans-
mission through transparent media ; hence the received maxim in optics, that
more light is lost in reflection than in refraction. Liquid surfaces afford in
general, when at rest, good plane reflectors. If the liquid be opaque, the
reflection is very perfect. This will be rendered apparent by pouring some
clear quicksilver on a plate ; to exhibit this effect, the quicksilver should be
strained through a piece of chamois leather : it would otherwise have a
film upon it composed of foreign matter, which would destroy its reflecting
power.
The objects on the banks of a calm river or a tranquil lake will be seen
reflected in its surface ; but it is worthy of notice that the observer can only
see this reflection when he looks very obliquely at the surface of the water :
the reason of which is, that the rays which strike nearly at right angl<-s to
the water penetrate it in virtue of its transparency. It is only those which
glance obliquely on it that are reflected ; just as a stone which, thrown per-
pendicularly on the water, would immediately sink, will, if projected at a
REFLECTION OF LIGHT.
small angle with the surface, be reflected from the water, leaping from point
to point of the surface, and affording the sport which boys call " duck and
drake."
The laws which govern the refraction of light through transparent media
show that when a ray strikes the transparent surface of a medium more rare
than that through which it has passed, it cannot penetrate that surface, but will
be reflected, unless its angle of obliquity exceed a certain magnitude. This
mode of reflection is the most perfect with which we are acquainted, and is
resorted to with great advantage in some optical instruments.
PROSPECTS OP STEAM NAVIGATION. 267
PKOSPECTS OF STEAM-IAYIGATIOK
IN navigating the ocean a steam-vessel of side-wheel construction is exposed
to many inevitable disadvantages. Scarcely an hour throughout its entire
voyage can the impelling power work with full and unimpaired efficacy. The
swell of the ocean is incessant, nor does it even cease in the intervals of the
abatement of the winds. The principles of this reasoning appear so evident,
that it would be a slight upon the understanding to enlarge upon them. It
will be easily perceived that the conclusion is inevitable, that when steam-
vessels of the present form are applied to ocean-voyages, a large proportion of
the moving power must be lost.
Among persons who have not devoted much time to the investigation of this
question, it is a favorite argument to urge the immense speed obtained by the
steam-vessels working with these propelling-wheels upon the extensive inland
waters of this great continent. But there is no analogy whatever between the
cases. Let it be remembered that the condition upon which this extraordinary *
efficiency depends can never be fulfilled in sea-going steamers. That efficien-
cy depends essentially on the smooth and unruffled surface of the water on
which the vessel moves, and the power of the vessel to maintain itself in a
constantly perpendicular position.
When these observations are duly considered, it will be readily admitted that
the attainment of perfect efficiency in ocean-steamers with the present propel-
ling apparatus is hopeless.
But the form, magnitude, and position, of the propelling machinery, is far
from being the only obstacle to the full success of the present steam-vessels
when directed to the general purposes of commerce. The engines themselves,
and the boilers, from which the moving power proceeds, and the fuel by which
they are worked, occupy the very centre of the vessel, and engross the most
valuable part of the tonnage. The chimney, which gives efficacy to ^the fur-
naces, is also an unsightly excrescence, and no inconsiderable obstruction.
If the present form and structure of steam-vessels be obnoxious to these many
serious objections when considered with reference to the purposes of general
268
PROSPECTS OF STEAM NAVIGATION.
) commerce, they are still more exceptionable when considered with reference 'o
the purposes of national defence. It is undoubtedly a great power with whii
to invest a vessel-of-war, to confer noon it the faculty of proceeding at will anu
immediately, in spite of the opposition of wind or tide, in any direction which
may seem most fit to its commander. Such a power would surpass the wild-
est dreams of the most romantic and imaginative naval commander of the last
century. To confer upon the vessels of a fleet the power immediately at the
bidding of the commander to take any position that may be assigned to them
relatively to the enemy, or to run in and out of a hostile port at pleasure, or fly
with the rapidity of the wind past the guns of formidable forts before giving
them time to take effect upon them — are capabilities which must totally revo-
lutionize all the established principles of naval tactics. But these powers at
present are not conferred upon steamships without important qualifications and
serious drawbacks. The instruments and machinery from which these pouvrs
are immediately derived are unfortunately exposed in such a manner as to ren-
der the exercise of the powers themselves hazardous in the extreme. It needs
no profound engineering knowledge to perceive thnt the paddle-wheels are
eminently exposed to shot, which, taking effect, wo Id altogether disable the
vessel, and leave her at the mercy of the enemy ; >nd the chimney is even
more exposed, the destruction of which would render .he vessel a prey to the
enemy within itself in the shape of fire. Bui besides these most obvious
sources of exposure in vessels of the present form intended as a national de-
fence, the engines and boilers themselves, being more or less above the water-
line, are exposed so as to be liable to be disabled by shot.
Such are a few of the many defects incidental to the present form of steam-
ships as applied to the purposes of national defence.
When long ocean-voyages are contemplated, such as those between New
York and the ports of England, there is another serious obstacle, which is es-
pecially felt in the westward trip, because of the prevalence of adverse winds.
When the vessel starts on its lo;ig voyage, it is necessarily laden with a large
stock of fuel, which is calculated to meet, not merely the average exigencies
of the voyage, but the utmost extremity of adverse circumstances of wind and
weather to which it can by possibility be exposed. This fuel is gradually
consumed upon the voyage ; the vessel is proportionally lightened, and its im-
mersion diminished. If its trim be so regulated that the immersion of its
( wheels at starting be such as to give them complete efficiency, they may, be-
) fore the end of the voyage, be almost if not altogether raised out of the water.
\ If, on the other hand, the efficiency of propulsion in the latter part of the
voyage be aimed at, they must have such a depth at its commencement, as to
impair in a serious degree their propelling effect, and to rob the vessel of its
proper speed. Under such circumstances, there is no expedient left but com-
promise. The vessel must start with too great and arrive with too little im-
mersion. There is no alternative, save to abandon altogether the form and
structure of the present machinery', and to awaken the inventive genius of the
age to supply other mechanical expedients, which shall not be obnoxious to
these objections.
Although no one who has lived as long and witnessed so many disappointed
hopes and fallacious anticipations in the progress of improvement as I i.
will be very forward to commit themselves as to the results of projects which
still exist in a state but partially tested by experience, I cannot refrain from
giving expression to a strong hope and confident anticipation that the cpc
at hand which will witness a great advance in ocean-navigation, and a
conferred by science upon the arts not equalled since the invention o:
steamboat and the safety-lamp.
PROSPECTS OF STEAM-NAVIGATION.
269
It is generally known that within the last seven years a form of sub-aqueous
propeller placed at the stern of the vessel as a substitute for the paddle-wheels,
lias been invented and patented by Captain Ericsson. This contrivance has
now been in practical operation for so long a time, and in so great a number
and variety of vessels, that we must cease to regard it as an experiment. Its-
efficiency has been tested on an extensive scale. The propelling-wheel is
fixed upon an axis which is placed parallel to the keel, and which issues from /
the stern of the vessel ; the wheel therefore revolves with its face stern ward. >
In wheels of this form and construction, the principle of action is in general '
similar to that of the common smoke-jack. The propelling surfaces have been
usually placed at an oblique angle to the course of the vessel, and have ex-
tended from the axle or nave to the outer edge of the wheel. Now, it will be
apparent, even to those who are least familiar with mechanical inquiries, that,
those parts of the blades which are near to the nave moving with the least ve-
locity, are the most inefficient for propulsion ; arid were it worth while, it would
be no very difficult matter to demonstrate that they are often an absolute ob-
struction. The outer ends of the blades, moving with greater velocity, act
with proportionately greater efficiency.
These circumstances led Captain Ericsson to construct his wheel in such a
manner as to remove altogether those parts of the blades nearest to the nave,
and which were inefficient for propulsion, retaining only those which were most
remote and most effective. This he accomplished by forming a hoop of metal
concentric with the nave, and connected with it by two or more spokes, to
enable which to pass through the water with the le,ast possible resistance, he
gave them a twisted or spiral form, regulated with such mathematical precis-
ion, that, by the progressive motion of the vessel, combined with their own
rotation, they must always encounter the water edgewise.
Drawings of this propeller, as applied to the Princeton, are given in figs.
1, 2, and 3. A section parallel to the face of the wheel is given in fig. 1 ; a
horizontal view is shown in fig. 2 ; and a section of the axle and hoop in fig. 3.
The nave in which the axle is inserted is at N, from which proceed six twist-
ed spokes R R, attached to and supporting the hoop H H H, bolted on to which
are six spiral propelling surfaces P P, &c. The axis inserted in the nave is
represented at A, fig. 2, where the obliquity and spiral form of the surfaces
are also shown, as well as the manner in which they are bolted on the hoop.
In order to give to this wheel all the possible strength, six spiral spokes
were supplied, one for each propelling blade. The material of the wheel is
composition-metal, which resists oxydation.
A propeller has been also supplied by Captain Ericsson for the United States
revenue-cutters Legare and Jefferson, represented in figs. 4, 5, and 6. The corre-
sponding parts are represented in the same manner as in the former diagrams,
and are marked by the same letters. In this wheel, the same strength not
being necessary, there are only four twisted arms supporting the hoop, and the
material of the propeller is wrought iron.
Stern-propellers have been invented and patented of very various forms,
which, however, all agree in certain properties. When they are totally sub-
merged, with the face of the wheel presented backward, their revolution causes
a current of water to be projected backward from the stern, the reaction of
which is in fact the moving power. This effect is produced in all of them by
placing the surfaces of the radiating arms or plates i^a position inclined to
the course of the vessel. If these surfaces were placed at right angles to the
keei, the revolution of the wheel would make them cut the water edgewise, and
I-M reaction wou:a be obtained. If, on the contrary, they were parallel to the (
keel, with taeir edges in the direction of the vessel's course, they would drive }
PROSPECTS OF STEAM-NAVIGATION
PROSPECTS OF STEAM-NAVIGATION.
PROSPECTS OF STEAM-NAVIGATION.
the water everywhere at right angles to that course, and no backward ci.rrent
would be produced ; but by giving them a position between these two extn
— that is to say, inclined at some oblique angle to the course of the vessel —
the revolution of the wheel will cause them to exert a certain portion of their
force on the water in producing a backward current : and that particular obli-
quity should be given to them which will make that backward current most
effective.
The calculation of this obliquity requires the application of the prim-:
of mathematical science, and admits of a clear and definite solution, it is
found, however, that the most effective obliquity for the propelling surface is
not the same for all distances from the centre of the wheel, and consequently
if the best possible form be given to the propelling blades, they must be shaped
according to a certain spiral to be determined by conditions depending upon a
variety of circumstances connected with the propeller and the vessel itself.
Some projectors, ignorant of these scientific principles, have .constructed
these propellers with plane surfaces, without the spiral form. Such is the
patented contrivance called Loper's propeller. They are consequently and
most obviously inefficient.
But besides the proper adjustment of the obliquity of the propelling surfaces,
the experience of Captain Ericsson soon proved that the parts of the blades
near the centre of the wheel were not only inefficient for propulsion, but formed
an impediment to the progress of the vessel. It was for this reason, among
others, that he cut away those parts of the blades near the centre, retaining
only the more remote portions, and supported these by bolting them on to the
hoop already described.
Such being the general character of this propelling instrument, it will be ap-
parent that in every position which it can assume in the water, it must pro-
duce nearly the same propelling effect. However the ship may pitch or roll,
or however unequal the surface of the sea may be, it will always produce the
backward current, without any great variation of effect.
The circumstances which prevent the co-operation of the power of steam
with that of the sails in the steam-vessels now in use, will not operate with a
propeller of this form, inasmuch as its efficacy will be altogether independent
of the careening of the ship ; but although this defect is removed, the sub-
merged stern-propellers are still subject to objections from which even the
common paddle-wheels are free. Being permanently submerged and 'liable to
accidental fracture and derangement from various causes, they are inacces-
sible, and cannot be repaired at sea ; but besides this, when the object in view
is to take full advantage of the power of the sails, that of the machinery being
suspended, the submerged propeller becomes an obstruction, more or less con-
siderable, to the progress of the vessel.
An invention, however, recently patented by Captain Ericsson, has finally
removed this difficulty, and placed it in the power of the commander at any time
within the space of five minutes to raise the propeller out of the water, or to
submerge it, so as to convert for all intents and purposes a steamer into a sail-
ing-vessel, or a sailing-vessel into a steamer, as he may see fit.
The shaft on which the propelling-wheel is fixed is provided with a simple
mechanism within the vessel by which it may be easily at any time drawn out
of the nave of the wheel. Tne wheel itself is sustained by a powerful vertical arm,
the upper end of which is attached to a strong axis, which enters the vessel
parallel to the main axis of the wheel and above the summit of the wheel. To
this axis within the ve ssel is attached a piece of mechanism by which it may
be turned through hah a revolution by the power of two men with such force
that the propeller will be made to perform half a revolution round the upper
PROSPECTS OF STEAM-NAVIGATION.
273
end of the vertical arm which supports it, by which that arm will be presented
upward instead of downward. The wheel, therefore, instead of being sub-
merged, will be supported at the stern of the vessel at the place where a boat
is usually suspended.
The vessel will thus be free from all uosiruction in passing through the
water, and will acquire all the efficiency which any mere sailing-vessel can
have, besides which the propeller is placed in such a situation that it may be
repaired if necessary.
The main shaft which drives the propeller when submerged is at a depth
of seven or eight feet under the lower deck. The cylinders by which it is
impelled are supported in a slanting position on the timbers of the vessel,
their piston-rods being presented toward the crank on the shaft, which they
drive in the usual manner by connecting-rods. The boilers and the fuel occu-
py the space immediately forward of the cylinders. The entire machinery,
including the boilers and fuel, are below the second deck of the vessel.
Such are the general features of the arrangements projected by Captain
Ericsson,* and proposed to be adopted in a line of steam packet-ships to ply
between New York and Liverpool. The first of these vessels is now in an
advanced state at Boston, and the machinery is in progress in New York.
It is expected that this ship will make her first voyage in August, 1845.
The fuel to be used is hard coal, and the furnaces will be ventilated by
blowers, worked by the engine. There will be no smoke, nor any need of
the draught produced by a chimney, and therefore that appendage will have
no other use than as an exit for the gases evolved in the combustion. A
square tunnel designed for this purpose is carried from the machinery upward
through the two decks, terminating on the poop-deck, where a sliding tube,
having a motion like a telescope-joint, by which a short discharge-pipe for
the hot air and offensive gases can be elevated when the machinery is worked,
and which can be lowered when the vessel is under sail.
Such a vessel, then, presents none of the appearances, internal or external,
of a steamer. There is no visible machinery, no noise, heat, smoke, or per-
ceptible vibration. The main-deck, clear of machinery from stem to stern, is
occupied by the cabins, saloons, library, state-room, and the various other ac-
* The triumphs of genius, like all sublunary pleasures, are not unattended with alloy. The moment
that any invention proves to be successful in practice, a swarm of vermin are fostered into being to
devour the legitimate profits of the inventor, and to rob geniusof its fair reward. Captain ERICSSOX,
so long as his submerged propeller retained the character of a mere experiment, was left in undis-
turbed possession of it ; but when it had forced its way into extensive practical use — when it was
adopted in the United States navy, and in the revenue service — when the coast of this country wit-
nested its application in numerous commercial vessels — when it was known that in France and
England its adoption was decided upon — then the discovery was made for the first time that this
invention of Captain Ericsson's was no invention at all — that it had been applied since the earliest
dates in steam navigation. Old patents, some of which had been stillborn, and others which had
been for years dead and buried, were dug from their graves, and their dust brought into courts of
law, to overturn this invention, and wrest from Captain Ericsson his justly-earned reward. But
this was not all : every mechanical expedient has about it accidents and essentials. It is tlie same
with genius and art. Imitators, incapable of realizing the spirit or producing the essentials, are
nevertheless capable of copying the accidents and mere forms. The success of Ericsson's inven-
tions produced the usual swarm of imitators of this kind : and the smoke jack •was accordingly pat-
ented by a so-called inventor at Philadelphia, in which, with a sintrnlar obliquity of ingenuity, he
stripped Ericsson's contrivance of everything that was good about it, and carefully combined all the
bad features which could possibly attach to the common wheel of oblique action.
It is painful to be compelled to state that these base and contemptible proceedings have not failed
in some instances to obtain countenance in high quarters. Will it be believed that the steamship
Princeton, the performance of whose machinery was attended with complete success, has had its
propeller removed, and another substituted which is in fact a feeble and inefficient copy of the
original — omitting, however, one or two of its best features ? It is pretended, also — erroneously, as
will be proved — that this inferior instrument has been more elHcicnt in operation than the original
wheel. No engineer or machinist, properly informed, can examine the wheel which has been thus
substituted, without being convinced that the change mnst have been prompted by motives entirely
unconnected with those of the improvement of the vessel.
18
274 PROSPECTS OF STEAM NAVIGATION.
commodations for passengers. Under that, the second or freight deck, also
clear of machinery from stem to stern, is occupied by the cargo ; and beneath
this again, buried in the very bottom of the vessel, is the mechanical power of
propulsion — occupying, however, only about one fifth of the space below the
freight-deck. The square tunnel we have referred to for the discharge of
the gases, and the ventilation of (lie engine-room, is carried up through the
decks and stands in one of the saloons, but presents no other appearance to
the eye than that of a pillar five feet square, handsomely empannelled and
decorated, and adorned with mirrors. The freight-deck being interposed be-
tween the cabins and the machinery, intercepts all noise and vibration.
When this mode of propulsion is applied to vessels-of-vvar, as in the case of
the Princeton, there is still another object to be accomplished. It is desirable
that the whole of the machinery should be below the water-line, so as to be
effectually protected from shot. This is accomplished by engines of a peculiar
construction, invented and patented by Captain Ericsson, which have been
worked with complete success in the Princeton. A representation of these,
in transverse vertical section, is given in fig. 7. It consists of two semi-cylin-
ders, presenting their semicircular sides downward, and being flat at the top.
They are placed beside each other above the main shaft, having their axes
parallel to it and to the keel. The ends of the axes are represented at A B.
To these axes are attached vibrating rectangular planes, which move alter-
nately from left to right, and right to left, within the semi-cylinders, and in
steam-tight contact with them. These planes are attached to the axes of the
cylinders, the ends of which appear at A and B, so that the vibrating motion
of the planes will impart a corresponding motion to the arms A E and B F,
attached to the ends of the axes A and B. The ends of these arms E and F
are attached to two connecting-rods, E D and F D, which are both attached to
the crank S D, which drives the main shaft.
The steam is admitted a> ernalely to each side of the vibrating planes with-
in the semi-cylinders, being at the same time withdrawn from the other side
by a condenser.
The action of the connecting-rods on the crank will be best understood by
following them successively through their various positions. In fig. 8, the
rod F D is in the position in which it has no power on the crank ; but the
rod E D, being at right angles with the crank, has full effect upon it. The
crank therefore moves from the position represented in fig. 8, to the position
represented in fig. 9, where the rod E D becomes powerless. The crank is
then driven to the position represented in fig. 10, where the rod D F becomes
again powerless, and E D is effective. The crank is then moved to the posi-
tion represented in fig. 11, where E D is powerless and F D effective, and
so on.
Thus it appears by this arrangement that the relative positions of the crank
and connecting-rods are such as to exercise a uniform action on the main shaft. I
The space occupied by the machinery in the lower part of the stern of the )
vessel, is surrounded by fuel, as represented in figure 7, and the whole is •,
considerably below the water-line W.
This machinery is designed only for war-vessels. Its construction and op-
eration are somewhat too expensive to be used for the mere purposes of com-
merce, where the advantages of its being placed below the water-line are of no
account.
The steam packet-ships to which we have referred are calculated to make
an average speed of nine statute miles per hour when in full operation. It is
computed that they can maintain the communication between New York and
Liverpool with regularity and despatch — the average western passage being
PROSPECTS OF STEAM-NAVIGATION.
276
PROSPECTS OF STEAM-NAVIGATION.
about twenty and tLe eastern sixteen days — their steam-machinery working S
for about one third the time of the voyage.
On comparing these vessels with the Great Western, it is to be considered
that, in order to enable the latter vessel to make an average speed of ten miles,
she is provided with four-hundred-hors.e power ; while the power proposed to
be given to the ship now in preparation being only that of one hundred and
seventy-three horses, would give a speed of seven and a half knots per hour,
which is equivalent to nine statute miles. Such is the result of a calculation
made on the ordinary and admitted principles of mechanics. It appears, then,
that by the small sacrifice of twenty-five per cent, of the speed, the power of
the machinery is reduced in the proportion of forty to seventeen ; and the con-
sumption of fuel, and the space occupied by it and by the machinery, are di-
minished in a greater ratio than six to one.*
Let us consider for a moment the effect which the successful establishment
of such a line of steamships would have upon the intercourse between this con-
tinent and Europe. The average passage of the Great Western to New York
has been fifteen days and nineteen hours. That of the Cunard ships to Boston
has been thirteen days. It appears, therefore, that these vessels at present
bring occasional intelligence to New York, the one in sixteen and the other in
fourteen days. The proposed line of steamships will accomplish the same
passage in twenty days ; but as they must, if successful at all, be as numerous
as the present London and Liverpool liners, they will be continually dropping
into this port, keeping up a never-ceasing streajn of intelligence, not more than
twenty days later from Europe. Instead, therefore, of the present mail-steam-
ers, bringing, as they do now, intelligence in winter often thirty days later,
and in summer fifteen days later, their functions will be limited to the convey-
ance of news occasionally five or six days later. In a word, it is evident
that the line of packet-ships now contemplated will to a great extent strip the
present mail-steamers of their great importance, not merely as respects intelli-
gence, but also correspondence. A great epoch is indubitably at hand.
One of the numerous advantages attending these arrangements is, that the
machinery is capable of being applied to any of the present packet-ships with-
out any serious suspension of their operation, or any injurious expenditure.
If the experiment about to be made shall therefore be attended with that suc-
cess which we confidently anticipate, a brief period will be sufficient to con-
vert the entire fleet of packet-ships between New York and Britain into steam-
liners — uniting the expedition, certainty, and regularity, with all their present
capabilities for commerce and cargo.
* This great reduction of bulk of fuel is realized chiefly by using the expansive principle to a
considerable extent
THE BAROMETER.
Maxim of the Ancients. — Abhorrence of a Vacuum. — Suction. — Galileo's Investigations. — Torricelti
discovers the Atmospheric Pressure. — The Barometer. — Pascal's Experiment. — Requisites for a
good Barometer. — Means of securing them. — Diagonal Barometer. — Wheel Barometer — Ver-
nier.— Uses of the Barometer. — Variation of Atmospheric Pressure. — Weather-Glass. — Rules in
common Use absurd. — Correct Rules. — Measurement of Heights. — Pressure on Bodies. — Why
net apparent. — Effect of a Leather Sucker. — How Flies adhere to Ceilings and Fishes to Rocks. —
Breathing.— Common Bellows.— Forge Bellows.— Vent Peg.— Tea-Pot.— Kettle.— Ink Bottles.—
Pneumatic Trough. — Gurgling Noise in decanting Wine.
THE BAROMETER.
THE BAROMETER.
IM the history of human discovery, there are few more impressive lessons
of humility than that which is to be collected from the records of the progress
by which the pressure of the atmosphere which surrounds us, and the manner
in which it is instrumental in producing some most ordinary phenomena,
became known. Looking back from the point to which we have now attained,
and observing the numerous and obvious indication? of this effect which pre-
sent themselves at all times, and on all occasions, nature seems almost to have
courted the philosopher to the discovery. With every allowance for the feeble-
ness of the human understanding, and for the disadvantages which the ancients
labored under, as compared with more recent investigators, still one is inclined to
attribute the lateness of the discovery of the atmospheric pressure and its effects,
not altogether to the weakness and inadequacy of the mental powers applied
to the investigation. There seems to be something of wilful perverseness and
obstinacy instigating men to step aside from that course, and to turn their minds
from those instances which nature herself continually forces upon them.
The ancient philosophers observed that, in the instances which commonly
fell under their notice, space was always filled by a material substance. The
moment a solid or a liquid was by any means removed, immediately the sur-
rounding air rushed in and filled the place which it deserted ; hence they
adopted the physical dogma that nature abhors a vacuum. Such a proposition
must be regarded as a figurative or poetical expression of a supposed law of
physics, declaring it to be impossible that space could exist unoccupied by matter.
Probably one of the first ways in which the atmospheric pressure presented
itself was by the effect of suction with the mouth. One end of a tube being
immersed in a liquid, and the other placed between the lips, the air was drawn
from the tube by the ordinary process of inhaling ; the water was immediately
observed to fill the tube as the air retreated. This phenomenon was accounted
for by declaring, that " nature abhorred a vacuum,"and that she, therefore, com-
pelled the water to fill the space deserted by the air.
280
THE BAROMETER,
Tho eftecvs of suction by the mouth led, by a natural analogy, to suction by
artificial means. If a cylinder be open at both ends, and a piston playing in it
air-tight be moved to the lower end, upon immersing this lower end in water,
and then drawing up the piston, an unoccupied space would remain between
the piston and the water. " But nature abhors such a space," said the ancients,
" and therefore the water will not allow such a space to remain unoccupied : we
find, accordingly, that as the piston rises the water follows it." By such poetical
reasoning pumps of various kinds were constructed.
The antipathy entertained by nature against an empty space served the pur-
poses of philosophy for a couple of thousand years, when it so happened that
some engineers employed at Florence in sinking pumps, had occasion to con-
struct one to raise water from an unusually great depth. Upon working it, they
found that the water would rise no higher than about thirty-two feet above the
well. Galileo, the most celebrated philosopher of that day, was consulted in
this difficulty, and it is said that his answer was, that " nature's abhorrence of a
vacuum extended only to the height of thirty-two feet, but that beyond this her
disinclination to an empty space did not extend." Some writers deny the fact
of his having given this answer ; others admit it, but take it to have been iron-
ical. It has been more generally taken as a solution seriously intended. It
appears, however, that Galileo, having his attention thus directed to the point,
soon saw the absurdity of the maxim that " nature abhors a vacuum," and sought
to account for the phenomenon in other ways.
He attributed the elevation of the water to an attraction exerted upon that
liquid by the piston. This attraction he conceived to have a determinate inten-
sity, and when such a column of water was raised as was equal in weight to
the whole amount of the attraction, then any farther elevation of the water by
the piston became impossible.
At a very remote period air was known to possess the quality of weight.
Aristotle and other ancient philosophers expressly speak of the weight of air.
The process of respiration is attributed by an ancient writer to the pressure of
the atmosphere forcing air into the lungs. Galileo was therefore fully aware that
the atmosphere possessed this property, and it is not a little surprising that
when his attention was so immediately directed to one of the most striking
effects of it, he was unable to perceive the connexion.
Some writers affirm, we know not upon what authority, that Galileo, at the
time he was interrogated respecting the limited elevation of water in a common
pump, was aware of the true cause of the effect ; but that, not having thoroughly
investigated the subject, he evaded the question of the engineers, with a view
to conceal his knowledge of the principle until he had carried his inquiry to a
more satisfactory result. It does not, however, appear that he published his
solution of the problem. After his death, Torricelli, his pupil, directed his at-
tention to the same problem. He argued that whatever be the cause which
sustained a column of water in a common pump, the measure and the energy
of that power must be the weight of the column of water ; and, consequently,
if another liquid be used, heavier or lighter, bulk for bulk, than water, then
the same force must sustain a lesser or greater column of such liquid. By
using a much heavier liquid, the column sustained would necessarily be much
shorter, and the experiment in every way more manageable.
He therefore selected for the experiment mercury, the heaviest known liquid.
The weight of mercury, bulk for bulk, being about 13^ times that of water, it
follows that the height of a column of that liquid which would be sustained by
a vacuum must be 13^ times less that the height of a column of water thus
sustained.
Hence he computed that the height of the column of mercury would be
THE BAROMETER.
-*^V^-v—*^
281 j
about 28 inches. He procured a glass tube, A B (fig. 1). more than 30 inches
in length, open at one end, A, and closed at the other end, B. Placing this
tube in an upright position, with the open end upward, he filled it with° mer-
cury, and applying his finger to the end A, so as to prevent the escape of the
mercury, he inverted the tube, plunging the end A into a cistern, C D (fig. 2),
containing mercury, the open end A being below the surface F of the mer-
cury in the cistern, and no air having been allowed to communicate with it.
Fig. 1.
A
Upon removing the finger, therefore, the mercury in the cistern came in imme-
diate contact with the mercury in the tube. Immediately the mercury was
observed to subside from the top of the tube, and its surface gradually to de-
scend to the level E, about 28 inches above the mercury in the cistern. This
result was what Torricelli anticipated, and clearly showed the absurdity of the
supposition that nature's abhorrence of a vacuum extended to the height of 32
feet. Torricelli soon perceived the true cause of this phenomenon. The at-
mospheric pressure acting upon the surface F, while the surface E was pro-
tected from this pressure by the closed end B, of the tube, supported the weight
of the column E F. This pressure was transmitted by the liquid mercury in
the cistern from the external surface F, to the base of the column contained in
the tube.
This experiment and its explanation soon became known to philosophers in
every part of Europe, and, among others, it attracted the notice of the cele-
brated Pascal. In order to subject the explanation of Galileo to the most se-
vere test, Pascal proposed to transport a tube of this kind to a great elevation
upon a mountain, and argued that, if the cause which sustained the column in
the tube were the weight of the atmosphere acting upon the external surface
of the mercury in the cistern, then it must be expected that if the tube was
elevated, having a less and a less quantity of atmosphere above it, the column
sustained by the weight of this incumbent atmosphere must suffer a correspond-
ing diminution in height. He accordingly directed a friend residing in the
neighborhood of a mountain called Pays de Dome, near Auvergne, to ascend
that mountain, carrying with him the apparatus already described. This was
accordingly done, and the height of the column noted during the ascent. Con-
282
THE BAROMETER.
formably to the principle explained by Torricelli, the column was observed
gradually to diminish in height, as the elevation of the apparatus was increased.
The same experiment was repeated by Pascal himself, with similar success,
upon a high tower in the city of Paris.
Meanwhile other effects were manifested which not less unequivocally
proved the truth of Torricelli's solution. The apparatus being kept for a length
of time in a fixed position, the height of the column was observed to fluctuate
from day to day between certain small limits. This effect was, of course, to
be attributed to the variation of the weight of the incumbent atmosphere, ari-
sing from various meteorological causes.
The apparatus which we have just described is, in fact, the common barom-
eter. By the principles of hydrostatics it appears that the height of the col-
umn E F, sustained by the atmospheric pressure, will be the same, whatever
be the magnitude of the bore of the tube. If we suppose the section of the
bore to be equal to a square inch, then the column E F will be pressed up-
ward, and held in equilibrium by the weight of a column of atmosphere pres-
sing upon a square inch of the external surface F ; consequently the weight of
the column E F, must be equal to the weight of a column of the atmosphere
whose base is a square inch, and which extends from the surface of the mer-
cury in the cistern to the top of the atmosphere. If there be another tube
whose bore is only half a square inch, then the pressure which will support
the column in it will be that of a similar column of atmosphere, whose base is
half a square inch ; such pressure, then, will only be half the amount of the
former, and therefore will only sustain half the weight of mercury. But a
column of mercury of half the weight, having a base of half the magnitude,
must necessarily have the same height. Hence it appears that so long as the
atmosphere presses upon a given magnitude of the surface F, with the same
intensity, the column of mercury sustained in the tube will have the same
height, whatever be the magnitude of its bore.
In adapting such an apparatus as this to indicate minute changes in the pres-
sure of the atmosphere, there are many circumstances to be attended to, which
I propose to explain, so far as they are necessary to render intelligible the
general principles and use of the barometer.
It is, in the first place, necessary to have the means of measuring exactly
the height of the column E F, fig. 2. If the surface F were fixed, and the
tube B A maintained in its position, it would be sufficient to mark a graduated
scale upon the tube, indicating the number of inches and fractions of an inch
of any part upon it, from the surface F. But it is obvious that this will not be the
case when the pressure of the atmosphere is increased, as an additional quan-
tity of mercury is forced into the tube, and consequently an equal quantity is
forced out of the cistern. While the surface E rises toward B, the surface
F therefore descends, and the distance of E from that surface is increased by
both causes.
A graduated scale marked upon the tube would then only indicate the change
in the position of the surface E, but would not show the change in the length
of the column E F, so far as that change is affected by the fall of the surface
F. There are several ways in which this defect may be remedied.
If the instrument be not required to give extremely accurate indications, it
will be sufficient to use a tube the bore of which is small compared with the
magnitude of the cistern. In this case, a small change in the height of the
column will make but a very inconsiderable change in the whole quantity of
mercury in the cistern, and therefore will produce a very minute effect upon
the position of the surface F. If such a change in the level F, be so small as
to affect the indications of the instruments in a degree which is unimportant
THE BAROMETER.
283
for the purposes to which it is intended to be applied, the surface F may be
regarded as fixed, and the whole change in the height of the column may be
taken to be represented by the change in the position of the level E. All or-
dinary barometers are constructed in this manner. But it is not difficult to ad-
just a scale upon a tube which will give with accuracy the actual variation in
the length of the column by means of the change in the level of the surface
E. Let us suppose that the cistern P D has a flat, horizontal bottom and per-
pendicular sides, and that the magnitude of the bottom bears a certain known
proportion to the bore of the tube. Suppose this proportion to be that of a
hundred to one. If the pressure of the atmosphere increase, so as to cause the
column of mercury sustained in the tube to be increased in height by one inch,
then as much mercury as fills one inch of the tube will be withdrawn from the
cistern ; but as the base of the cistern is one hundred times greater than the
bore of the tube, it is evident that this inch of mercury in the tube would only
cause a fall of the hundredth of an inch in depth of the mercury in the vessel.
Consequently it follows that the increased elevation of an inch in the column
produces a depression of a hundredth of an inch in the surface F. Thus it
appears that the increased length of the column E F, is produced by the sur-
face F, falling through the one hundredth of an inch, while the surface E rises
through ninety-nine hundredths parts of an inch. The same will be true
whatever change takes place in the height of the column. We may therefore
infer generally, that whatever variation may be produced in the surface E, the
consequent variation produced in the height of the column is greater by a
ninety-ninth part.
If, then, the top be so graduated that a portion of it, the length of which is
one hundredth part less than an inch, be marked as an inch, and all other di-
visions and subdivisions marked according to the same proportion, then the
indications will be as accurate as if the surface F were fixed, the tube being
divided accurately into inches and parts of an inch.
Fig. 3.
The barometer is represented mounted and furnished with a scale, in fig. 3
The glass tube is surrounded by one of brass in which there is an aperture cut
at D E, of such a length and at such a height above the cistern, as to include
all that space through which the level of the mercury in the tube usually va-
ries in the place in which the barometer is intended to be used. In these
countries the level of the mercury never falls below twenty-eight inches, nor
rises above thirty-one inches; consequently a space somewhat exceeding these
limits will be sufficient for the opening D E. The tube is permanently con-
nected with the cistern A B, and a scale is engraved upon the brass tube, near
the aperture D E, to indicate the fractions of the height of the mercury in
the tube.
There is another method of avoiding the difficulty arising from the change
in the level of the surface of the mercury in the cistern, used in the barometer
hero represented. The bottom of the cistern moves within it in such a man-
ner as to prevent the mercury from escaping, and a screw is inserted at
B, by turning which the bottom of the cylinder is slowly elevated or
depressed. An ivory index is attached to the top of the cylinder, which is
presented downward and brought to a fine point, so as to mark a fixed level.
When an observation is made with the barometer, the screw V is turned until
the surface is brought accurately to the point of the index, by raising or low-
ering the bottom according as the surface is below or above that point. It fol-
lows, therefore, that whenever an observation is made with this instrument, the
surface of the mercury always stands at the same level, and therefore the di-
visions upon the scale C F, represent the actual change of height in the bar-
ometric column.
Since the column of mercury sustained in the barometric tube is taken to
represent the pressure of the atmosphere, it is clear that no air or other elastic
fluid should occupy the part of the tube above the mercury. To avoid such a
cause of error is not so easy or obvious as may at first appear. Mercury, as it
exists in the ordinary state, frequently contains air or other elastic fluids com-
bined with it, and which art maintained in it by the atmospheric pressure, to
which it is usually subject.
When it has subsided, however, in the barometric tube, it is relieved from
that pressure, and the elastic force of such air as may be lodged in the mercu-
ry, being relieved from the pressure which confined it there, it will make its
escape and rise to the surface, finally occupying the upper part, of the tube, and
exerting a pressure upon the surface of the column by means of its elasticity.
Such a pressure will, then, assist the weight of the column of mercury in bal-
ancing the atmospheric pressure, and consequently a column of less height
will balance the atmosphere than if the upper part of the tube were free from
air. To remove this cause of error it is necessary to adopt means of purify-
ing the mercury used in the barometer from all elastic fluids which may be
combined with it.
The fact that the application of heat gives energy to the elastic force of gas
' es, enables us easily *u accomplish this. For if the mercury be heated, the £
| particles of air or other elastic fluids which are combined with it acquire sucU
1 a degree of elasticity that they dilate and rise to the surface, and there escape /
| in bubbles. The same process of heating serves to expel any liquid impurities I
i with which the mercury may be combined. These are converted into vapor >
[ and escape at the surface.
The presence of an elastic fluid at the top of the tube is thus removed so far j
| as such fluid can proceed from the mercury. But it is also found that small par- (
> tides of air and moisture are liable to adhere to the interior surface of the >
I glass ; and when the mercury is introduced, and a vacuum produced at the top c
> of the tube, these particles of air dilate, and rising, lodge at the top and vitiate /
| the vacuum which ought to be there ; the particles of moisture also evac rate ;'
THE BAROMETER. 285
and rise likewise, both producing an aeriform fluid in the chamber above the
surface of the mercury, which presses upon that surface with an elastic force
ind produces a corresponding diminution in the height of the column of quick-
silver, sustained by the atmosphere as already explained. This imperfection
may be avoided by previously heating the tube. The particles of air which
adhere to its inner surface being thus expanded by heat, will fly off by their
elastic force, and the particles of moisture will be converted into vapor, and
likewise disengaged from the surface.
All the effects now explained may be produced by filling the tube with mer-
cury in the first instance and then boiling the liquid in it, which may be easily
accomplished. The heat will not only expel all liquid and gaseous impurities
from the mercury itself, but also will disengage them from the inner surface of
the tube. These precautions being taken, the column of mercury sustained in
the tube will indicate by its weight the true amount of the atmospheric pressure.
But in order to be able to compare the result of any one barometer with any
other, it is necessary that the weights of equal bulks of the liquid mercury
used in both cases should be the same ; and for this purpose we must be as-
sured that the mercury used is pure, and not combined with other substances.
We have just seen how all substances in the liquid or gaseous form may
be extracted from it. Impurities may still, however, be suspended in it in a
solid form.
To remove these it is only necessary to enclose the mercury in a small bag
of chamois leather : upon pressing this bag the quicksilver will pass freely
through its pores, and any minute solid impurities which may be contained in
the mercury will remain in the bag. Pure and homogeneous mercury being
thus obtained, we have advanced another step toward the certainty that the in-
dications of different barometers may correspond ; but there is still one other
cause of discordancy to be attended to. Suppose a barometer to be used in
Paris, and another in London, at a time when the pressure of the atmosphere
in both places is the same, but the temperature of the air at Paris is higher
than the temperature of London. The mercury in the one barometer will have
a higher temperature than the mercury in the other. Now it is well known
that when mercury or any other body is heated, its dimensions increase. In
other words, bulk for bulk, it becomes slighter. Consequently, if two columns
be equal in weight, that which has the higher temperature will have the greater
altitude. Hence it appears, that under the circumstances supposed, at a time
when the atmospheric pressure is the same in London as at Paris, the barom-
eter at the latter place will be higher than at the former. To guard against
this source of error, it is necessary, in making barometric observations, to note
at the same time the contemporaneous indications of the thermometer. Tables
are computed, showing the changes in the height of the mercury correspond-
ing to given differences of temperature. It is evident that in comparing the (
results of the same barometer observed at different times, it is equally neces-
sary to note the difference of temperature, and to allow for its effects. This,
however, is a refinement of accuracy which is not attended to, except in ob-
servations made for philosophical purposes.
One of the difficulties attending barometri ; observations arises from the very
minute changes produced in the height of the column by slight variations in
the atmospheric pressure. The whole play of the upper surface of the column,
in the most extreme cases, does not exceed three or four inches in a given
place ; and mercury being a very heavy fluid, a variation in the pressure of the
atmosphere, of sensible amount, may produce scarcely any perceptible change
in the" height of the column. One of the most obvious remedies, at first viiw,
would seem to be the use of a fluid lighter than mercury. In the same psopor- .
• -s^X^-Xy-*
THE BAROMETER,
tion as the fluid is lighter, will the change in the height of the column, by a
given change in the pressure of the atmosphere, be greater ; but there are diffi-
culties of a different kind which altogether preclude the use of other fluids.
The lighter liquids are much more susceptible of evaporation, and the surface
of the liquid in the tube being relieved from the atmospheric pressure, offers no
resistance to the process of evaporation. The consequence is, that any liquid,
except mercury, would produce a vapor, which, occupying the top of the tube,
would press by its elastic force upon the surface, and co-operate with the
weight of the suspended column in balancing the atmospheric pressure. Even
from mercury we have reason to know that a vapor rises, which is present in
the upper part of the tube ; but this pressure exerts no power which can intro-
duce inaccuracy to any sensible extent into our conclusions.
A form is sometimes adopted called the diagonal barometer, for the purpose
of increasing the range of the mercury in the tube. This is represented in
fig. 4, where A C B represents the barometer tube.
C is a point at a distance above the surface of the mercury in the cylinder
less than the height of twenty-eight inches. The space C D includes the range
which the mercury would have if the tube were vertical ; but at C the tube is
bent obliquely in the direction C B, having a sufficient length to bring the ex-
tremity B to the same level as D. The mercury, which, had the tube been
vertical, would range between C and D., will now have its play extended through
the greater space C B ; consequently the magnitude of any part, however
small, will be increased in the proportion of the line C D to the line C B.
Thus, if C D be four inches, and C B twelve inches, then every change in the
position of the surface of the mercury produced by a change in the atmospheric
pressure, will be three times as great in the diagonal barometer as it would be
in the vertical one.
Fig. 4.
Fig. 5.
32_
Another contrivance fcr enlarging the scale, which is more frequently used,
and for common domestic purposes attended with some convenience, is repre-
sented in fig 5. This is called the wheel barometer. The barometric tube is
here bent at its lower extremity B, and turned upward toward C. The atmo- '
spheric pressure acts upon the surface F, and sustains a column of mercury in |
— — *
r
THE BAROMETER.
the tube B A, which is above the level of F. The bore of the tube being in
this case equal in every part of its length, it is clear that, through whatever
space the surface E falls, the surface F will rise, and vice versa. Hence it is
obvious that the variation in the height of the barometric column will alwavs
fat double the change in the height of either surface E or F ; for if the surface
F fall, the surface E must rise through the same space. They are thus rece-
ding from each other at the same rate, and therefore their mutual distance will
be increased by the space through which each moves, or by double the space
through which one of them moves.
In the same manner, if F rise, E must fall, the two points mutually approach-
ing each other at the same rate ; so that the distance between them will be dimin-
ished by the space through which each moves, or by double the space throngh
which one of them moves. The change, therefore, in the height of the
barometric column will always be double the change in the position of the
level F.
Upon the surface at F floats a small ball of iron, suspended by a string,
which is carried over a pulley or small wheel at P, and counterpoised by the
weight at W, less in amount than the weight of the iron ball. When the sur-
face F rises, the iron ball being buoyant, will be raised with it, and the coun-
terpoise W will fall ; arid when the surface F falls, the weight of the iron ball
being greater than the weight of the counterpoise W, will cause it to descend
with the descending surface, and to draw the counterpoise W up. It is evi-
dent that, through whatever space the iron ball thus moves in ascending or
descending, an equal length of the string will pass over the wheel P. Now
this string rests in a groove of the wheel in such a manner that by its friction
it causes the wheel to revolve, and consequently the revolution of this wheel indi-
cates the length of string which passes over its groove, which length is equal to
the change in the level of the surface F. Upon the centre of this wheel P an
index H is placed, which, like the hand of a watch, plays upon a graduated cir-
cular plate. Let us suppose that the circumference of the wheel P is two
inches : then one complete revolution of the wheel will correspond to a change
of two inches in the level F, and therefore to a change of four inches in the
barometric column. But in one revolution of the wheel P, the hand or index
H moves completely round the circle ; hence the circumference of this circle
corresponds to a change of four inches in the barometric column. Now, the
circular plate may easily be made so that its circumference shall measure forty
inches ; consequently ten inches of this circumference will correspond to one
inch of the column, and one inch of the circumference will correspond to the
tenth of an inch of the column. In this way variations in the height of the
column amountiag to the tenth of an inch are indicated by a motion of the hand
H over one inch of the circumference of the plate. By further subdivision, a
still greater accuracy may be obtained.
In this form of the barometer it is evident that the preponderance of the iron
ball assists the atmospheric pressure in sustaining the column. This cause of
error, however, may be diminished almost indefinitely by making the prepon-
derance of the ball over the counterpoise W barely sufficient to overcome the
friction of the wheel P.
Again, when the atmosphere is diminished in weight, and when the surface
F has a tendency to rise, it is compelled to raise the ball ; and there is this
obvious limit to the indications of the instrument, namely, that a change so
slight that the difference ef pressure will not exceed the force necessary to
elevate the ball, will fail to be indicated.
For scientific purposes, the vertical barometer is preferable to every other
form of that instrument. In the oblique barometer the termination of the mer-
ctiri-il column is subject to some uncertainty, arising from the level of the mer-
cury not being perpendicular to the direction of the tube. In the wheel ba-
rometer there are several sources of error, which, though so small in amount
as not to injure it for domestic or popular use, yet are such as to render it alto-
aether unfit for scientific inquiry.
A contrivance called a vernier, for no'ing extremely small changes, is usu-
ally applied to the vertical baromete and supplies the place of an enlarged
scale. It consists of a small pr5 ^aied plate, which is moveable by a screw
or otherwise, and which slid" on the divided scale of the barometer. By
means of this subsidiary .oaie, we are enabled to estimate magnitudes on the
principal scale amoun'iug to very small fractions of its smallest divisions.
The principle of oie vernier is easily explained. Let B A, fig. G, represent
Fig. 6.
A
31
9-
8-
7-
-
6-
5-
4-
3-
2-
1-
30-
9-
8-
7-
6-
5-
4-
3_
2_
1
D A
29 —
— •—
-1
9~
-_.
-2
8-
-3
7-
-4
6-
5—
-
-5
4-
--6
3-
-7
2-
_-
-8
1-
-9
_i
B C
Fig. 7.
A
31
9-
8-
7-
6-
5 —
—
4-
3-
-
2-
1-
Ort
OU
9-
8-
7-
6-
* D
n
' -
4-
V
1
3-
~-
-2
2-
3
1-
-_
-4
29 —
9-
-6
8-
-
—
-7
7-
G-
-"
-8
^
—
-9
9
4-
• :
ylO
3-
-
2-
1-
28—
THE BAROMETER.
the scale of the barometer, extending through three inches, and divided to
tenths of an inch. Let C D be the sliding scale of the vernier, equal in length
to eleven divisions of the principal scale, and divided into ten equal parts.
Thus each division of the vernier will be the tenth of eleven divisions of the
instrument • that is, it will be the tenth part of 1 1 tenths of an inch, but 1 1
tenths of an n.^ 'he same as 110 hundredths, and the tenth part of this is
1 1 hundredths. THUS it appears that one division on the vernier is in this
case the 1 1 hundredth part of an inch. Now, one division on the instrument
being a tenth of an inch, or 10 hundredths of an inch, it is evident that a di-
vision on the vernier will exceed a division on the instrument by the hundredth
part of an inch ; for if we take 10 hundredths from 11 hundredths, the remain-
der will be 1 hundredth. Let us suppose that the vernier is placed so that its
lowest division, marked 10, shall coincide with the lowest division on the in-
strument, marked 28 ; then the first division of the vernier, marked 0, will
coincide with the division of the instrument next above the 29th. The divis-
ion marked 1 on the vernier will then be a little below the division marked 29
on the scale, and the distance between these will be the hundredth of an
inch, as already explained. The division marked 2 of the vernier will be a
little below the division marked 9 on the scale, and the distance below it will
be 2 hundredth parts of an inch, because two divisions of the vernier exceed
two divisions of the scale by that amount. In like manner, the division marked
3 on the vernier will be below the division marked 8 on the scale by 3 hun-
dredths of an inch, and so on.
Let us suppose that the mercury is observed to stand at a height greater
than 29 inches and 5 tenths, but less than 29 inches and 6 tenths. Its level
being expressed by the line M, figure 7, let the vernier now be moved on
.vile until its highest division 0 exactly coincides with the level of the
..» • ..ry. On comparing the several divisions of the vernier with those of the
.nstrument, let us suppose that we find that the division marked 4 on the ver-
nier coincides with that marked 1 on the instrument ; then the distance from
the level of the mercury M to the next division below it, marked 5, will be 4
hundredth parts of an inch, for the distance of the division marked 3 on the
vernier above the division marked 2 on the instrument is 1 hundredth of an
inch, because it is the difference between a division of the vernier and a divis-
ion of the instrument. Again, the distance of the division of the vernier
marked 2, above the division cf the instrument marked 3, is 2 hundredths of
an inch, and the distance of the division of the vernier marked 1, above the
division of the instrument marked 4, is 3 hundredths of an inch. In like man-
ner, the division of the vernier marked 0 is distant from the division of the in-
strument marked 5 by 4 hundredths of an inch. This will be manifest by
considering what has already been explained. In general, we are to observe
what division of the vernier coincides most nearly with any division of the in-
strument, and the figure which marks that division, of the vernier will express
the number of hundredths of an inch in the distance of the level of the mercury
from the next division of the instrument below it.
The most immediate use of the barometer for scientific purposes is to indi-
cate the amount and variation of the atmospheric pressure. These variations
being compared with other meteorological phenomena, form the scientific data
from which various atmospheric appearances and effects are to be deduced.
The fluctuations in ths pressure of the atmosphere being observed in con-
nexion with changes in the state of the weather, a general correspondence is
supposed to prevail between these effects. Hence the baiometer has been
called a weath.:r-f,lass Rules are attempted to be established, by which, from
the height of the mercury, the coming state of the weather may be predicted ;
19
290
s
THE BAROMETER.
and we accordingly find the words " rain," " fair," " changeable," " frost," &c.,
engraved on the scale attached to common domestic barometers, as if, when
the mercury stands at the height marked by these words, the weather is always
subject to the vicissitudes expressed by them. These marks are, however,
entitled to no attention ; and it is only surprising to find their use continued in
the present times, when knowledge is so widely diffused. They are. in. fact,
to be ranked scarcely above the vox stellarum, or astrological almanac.
It has been already explained, that in the same state of the atmosphere the
height of the mercury in the barometer will be different, according to the eleva-
tion of the place in which the barometer is situated. Thus two barometers,
one near the level of the Hudson and the other on the heights of West
Point, will differ by half an inch ; the latter being half an inch lower than the
former. If the words, therefore, engraved upon the plates, are to be relied
upon, similar changes of weather could never happen at these two situations. But
what is even more absurd, such a scale would inform us that the weather at the
top of a high building, such as Trinity church, New York, must always be
different from the weather in Wall street, at its foot.
The variation in the altitude of the barometer in a given place, together with,
the corresponding vicissitudes of the weather, have been regularly recorded
for very long periods. It is only by the exact comparison of such results that
any general rule can be found. The rules best established by such observations
are far from being either general or certain. It is observed that the changes
of weather are indicated, not by the actual height of the mercury, but by its
change of height. One of the most general, though not absolutely invariable
rules is, that when the mercury is very low, and therefore the atmosphere very
light, high winds and storms may be expected.
The following rules may generally be relied upon, at least to a certain ex-
tent : —
1 . Generally the rising of the mercury indicates the approach of fair weather :
the falling of it shows the approach of foul weather.
2. In sultry weather the fall of the mercury indicates coming thunder. In
winter the rise of the mercury indicates frost. In frost its fall indicates thaw ;
and its rise indicates snow.
3. Whatever change of weather suddenly follows a change in the barome-
ter may be expected to last but a short time. Thus, if fair weather follow im-
mediately the rise of the mercury, there will be very little of it ; and in the
same way, if foul weather follow the fall of mercury it will last but a short
time.
4. If fair weather continue for several days, during which the mercury con-
tinually falls, a long succession of foul weather will probably ensue ; and
again, if foul weather continue for several days, while the mercury continually
rises, a long succession of fair weather will probably succeed.
5. A fluctuating and unsettled state in the mercurial column indicates
changeable weather.
The domestic barometer would become a much more useful instrument if
instead of the words usually engraved on the plate, a short list of the best es-
tablished rules, such as the above, accompanied it, which might be either en-
graved on the plate, or printed on a card. It would be right, however, to ex-
press the rules only with that degree of probability which observation of past
phenomena has justified. There is no rule respecting these effects which will
hold good with perfect certainty in every case.
One of the most important scientific uses to which the barometer has been
applied, is the measuring of heights. If the atmosphere, like a liquid, were
incompressible, this problem would be very simple. The pressure on the met-
cury in the cistern would be equally diminished in ascending through equal
heights. Thus, if the pressure produced by an ascent of 10 feet were equiva-
lent to the weight of one inch of mercury, then the column would fall one inch
in ascending that height. It would fall two inches in ascending 20 feet, three
in ascending 30 feet, and so on. To find, therefore, the perpendicular height
of ths barometer at any time above its .position, at any other time, it would be
only necessary to observe the difference between the altitude of the mercury
in both cases, and to allow 10 feet for every inch of mercury in that difference ;
and a similar process would be applicable if an inch of mercury corresponded
to any other number of feet.
But this explanation proceeds on the supposition that in ascending through
equal heights, the barometer leaves equal weights of air below it. Suppose
in ascending 10 feet the mercury is observed to fall the hundredth of an inch,
then it follows, that the air left below the barometer in such an ascent has a
weight equal to the one hundredth of an inch of mercury. Now. in ascending
the next ten feet, the air which occupies that space having a less weight above
it will be less compressed, and, consequently, within that height of 10 feet
there will be contained a less quantity of air than was contained in the first 10
feet immediately below it. In this second ascent the mercury will, therefore,
fall, not the hundredth of an inch, but a quantity as much less than the hun-
dredth of an inch as the quantity of air contained in the second 10 feet of
height is less than the quantity of air that is contained in the first 10 feet of
height. In like manner, in ascending the next ten feet a still less quantity of
air will be left below the instrument, and the mercury will fall in a proportion-
ally less degree. If the only cause affecting density of the air were com-
pression produced by the weight of the incumbent atmosphere, it would be
easy to find the rule by which a change of altitude might be inferred from an
observed change of pressure. Such a rule has been determined, and is capa-
ble of being expressed in the language of mathematics, although it is not of a
nature which admits of explanation in a more elementary and popular form.
But there are other causes affecting the relation of the pressure to the altitude
which must be taken into account. The density of any stratum of air is not only
affected by the weight of the incumbent atmosphere, but also by the temperature
of the stratum itself. If any cause increase this temperature the stratum will
expand, and, with a less density, will support the same incumbent pressure. If,
on the contrary, any cause produce, a diminution of temperature, the stratum
will contract, and acquire a greater density under the same pressure. In the
one case, therefore, a change of elevation which would be necessary to pro-
duce a given change in the height of the barometer, would be greater than
that computed on theoretical principles, and in the other case the change would
be less. The temperature, therefore, forms an essential clement in the calcu-
lation of heights by the barometer.
A rule or formulary has been deduced, partly from established theory, and
partly from observed effects, by which the change of elevation may be deduced
from observations made on the barometer and thermometer. To apply that
rule, it is necessary to know. 1st, the latitude of the places of observation ; 2d,
the height of the barometer and thermometer at the higher station. By arith-
metical computation the difference of the levels of the two stations may then
be calculated. The formulary does not admit of being explained without the
use of mathematical language.
It has been already stated, that the atmospheric pressure at the surface of
the earth is capable of supporting a column of water 34 feet in height. It fol-
lows, therefore, that if our atmosphere were condensed to such a degree that
its specific gravity would be equal to that of water, its height would be 34
292 THE BAROMETER.
feet. Now the specific gravity of a stratum of atmosphere contiguous to the
surface is about 840 times less than the specific gravity of water ; that is, a
cubic inch of water weighs 840 times more than a cubic inch of air. If as
we ascend in the atmosphere it continued to have the same density, then its
height would be evidently 840 times the height of 34 feet, which would amount
to 28,560 feet, or 5 miles and a quarter. It is obvious, therefore, that since
v even at a small elevation the density of the atmosphere is reduced to half its
density at the surface, the whole height must be many times greater than this.
The barometer in the balloon in which De Luc ascended, fell to the height of
12 inches. Supposing the barometer at the surface to have stood at that time
at 30 inches, it follows that he must have left three fifths of the whole atmo-
sphere below him. His elevation was upward of 20,000 feet.
A column of pure mercury, whose base is a square inch, and whose height
is 30 inches, weighs about 15 Ibs. avoirdupois. It follows, therefore, that
when the barometer stands at 30 inches the atmosphere exerts a pressure on
each square inch of the surface of the mercury on the cistern, amounting to
15 Ibs. Now it is the nature of a fluid to transmit pressure equally in every
direction, and if the surface on which the atmosphere acts were presented to
it laterally, obliquely, or downward, still the pressure will be the same. Ta-
king, therefore, the medium height of the barometric column at 30 inches, it
follows that the pressure sustained by all bodies which exist at the surface of
the earth, exposed to our atmosphere, are continually under this pressure, and
that every square inch on their surface constantly sustains a force of about 15
pounds. Thus the body of a man the surface of which amounts to 2,000
square inches, will sustain a pressure from the surrounding air to the enor-
mous amount of 30,000 pounds.
It might at first view be expected that this great force to which all bodies
are subject, would produce manifest effects, so as to crush, compress, or break
them, whereas we find bodies of most delicate texture unaffected by it. Thus
a close bag, made of the finest silver paper, and partially filled with air, is ap-
parently subject to no external force. Its sides do not collapse. This arises
partly from the circumstance of the pressure on every side and in every direction
being equal, and, therefore, producing mechanical equilibrium. It is obvious
that a body which is driven in every possible direction, upward and downward,
laterally and obliquely, with equal forces, will not move in any one direction,
for to suppose such a motion would be to assume that the quantity of pressure
in that direction exceeds the quantity of pressure in other directions. But
still, though a body may not be driven in any direction by the atmospheric
pressure, it may happen that its parts are crushed and compressed.
We do not, however, find this to happen. This arises from the fact, 'that the
elastic force of the air is equal to its pressure ; and since the internal cauties
of a body, such as the thin bag above-mentioned, are filled with air, whi< h is
confined within them, that air has precisely the same tendency to swell the
bag, and to keep the parts asunder, as the external pressure of the atmosphere
has to make them collapse.
In the same manner we may account for the fact that animals move freely in
the air without being sensible of the enormous pressure to which their bodies
are subjected. The internal parts of their bodies are filled with fluids, both in
the liquid and gaseous states, which offer a pressure from within exactly equiv-
alent to the external pressure of the air. This may be easily rendered mani-
fest by applying to the skin the mouth of a close vessel to which an exhausting
syringe is attached. By this instrument, which will be described hereafter,
the air may be rarefied in the vessel, and the atmospheric pressure conse-
quently partially removed from the skin. Immediately the force of the fluid
293
from within will swell the skin and cause it to be sucked into the glass. This
experiment may be performed by the mouth on the flesh of the hand or arm.
If the lips be applied to the flesh, and the breath drawn in so as to produce a
partial vacuum in the mouth, the skin will be drawn or sucked into the mouth.
This effect is owing, not to any force resident in the lips or the mouth drawing
the skin in, but to the fact that the usual external pressure is removed, and
that the piessure from within is suffered to prevail.
All cases of that class of effects which are commonly expressed by the
word suction are accounted for in the same manner.
If a flat piece of moist leather be put in close contact with a heavy body, as
a stone, it will be found to adhere to it with considerable force, and if a cord
of sufficient length be attached to the centre of the leather, the stone may be
raised by the cord. This effect arises from the exclusion of the air between
the leather and the stone. The weight of the atmosphere presses their sur-
faces together with a force amounting to fifteen pounds on every square inch
of those surfaces in contact. If the weight of the stone be less than the num-
ber of pounds which would be expressed by multiplying the number of square
inches on the surfaces of contact by fifteen, then the stone may be raised by
the leather ; but if the stone exceed this weight, it will not suffer itself to be el-
evated by these means.
'.^he power of flies and other insects to walk on ceilings and surfaces pre-
sented downward, or upon smooth panes of glass in an upright position, is said
to depend on the formation of their feet. This is such that they act in the
manner above described respecting the leather attached to a stone ; the feet, in
fact, act as suckers, excluding the air between them and the surface with which
they are in contact, and the atmospheric pressure keeps the animal in its po-
sition. In the same manner the hydrostatic pressure attaches fishes to rocks.
The pressure and elasticity of the air are both exercised in the act of
breathing. When we draw in the breath we first make an enlarged space in
the chest. The pressure of the external atmosphere then forces air into this
space so as to fill it. By a muscular action the lungs are next compressed so
as to give this air a greater elasticity than the pressure of the external atmo-
sphere. By the excess of this elasticity it is propelled, and escapes by the
mouth and nose. It is obvious, therefore, that the air enters the lungs not by
any direct act of these upon it, but by the weight of the atmosphere forcing it
into an empty space, and that it is expired by the action of the lungs in com-
pressing it.
The action of common bellows is precisely similar, except that the aperture
at which the air is drawn in is different from that at which it is expelled. In the
lower board of the bellows is a hole covered by a valve, consisting of a flat
piece of stiff leather, moveable on a hinge, and which lies on the hole, but is
capable of being raised by a slight pressure. When the upper board of the
bellows is raised, the internal cavity is suddenly enlarged, arid the air contained
in it is considerably rarefied. The pressure of the atmosphere forces in air at
the nozzle, but this being too small to allow its admission with sufficient ease
and speed, the valve covering the hole is acted upon by the atmosphere and
raised, aud air rushes in through the large aperture under it. When the space
between the boards is filled with air in its common state, the upper board is
depressed, and the air confined in the bellows is suddenly condensed. The
valve covering the hole is thus kept firmly closed, and the air has no escape
except through the nozzle, from which it issues with a force proportioned to the
pressure exerted on the upper board. A bellows, such as that in common do-
mestic use, thus simply constructed, has an intermitting action and blows by
fits, its action being suspended while the upper board is being raised. T"
In
294 THE BAROMETEE.
forces and large factories in which fires are extensively used, it is found neces-
sary to command a constant and unremitting stream of air, which may be con-
ducted through the fuel so as to keep it in vivid combustion. This is effected
by bellows with three boards, the centre board being fixed and furnished with
a valve opening upward, the lower board being moveable with a valve also open-
ing upward, and the upper board being under a continual pressure by weights
acting upon it. When the lower board is let down, so that the chamber be-
tween it and the middle board is enlarged, the air included between these
boards being rarefied, the external pressure of the atmosphere will open the
valve in the lower board, and the chamber between the lower and middle boards
will be filled with air in its common state. The lower board is now raised by
the power which works the bellows, and the air between it and the middle
board is condensed. It cannot escape through the lower valve, because it
opens upward. It acts, therefore, with a pressure proportional to the working
power on the valve in the middle board, and it forces open this valve, which
opens upward. The air is driven from between the lower and middle boards
into the chamber between the middle and upper boards. It cannot return from
this chamber, because the valve in the middle board opens upward. The up-
per board being loaded with weights, it will be condensed while included in
this chamber, and will issue from the nozzle with a force proportionate to the
weights. While the air is thus rushing from the nozzle the lower board is let
down and again drawn up, and a fresh supply of air is brought into the cham-
ber between the upper and middle board. This air is introduced between the
middle and upper boards before the former supply has been exhausted, and by
working the bellows with sufficient speed, a large quantity of air will be col-
lected in the upper chamber, so that the weights on the upper board will force
a continual stream of air through the nozzle.
The effect produced by a vent-peg in a cask of liquid depends on the atmo-
spheric pressure. If the vent-peg stop the hole in the top while the liquid is
discharged by the cock below, a space will remain at the top of the barrel in
which the air originally confined is allowed to expand and become rarefied ;
its pressure on the surface of the liquid above will, therefore, be less than the
atmospheric pressure resisting the escape of the liquid at the cock ; but still
the weight of the liquid itself, pressing downward toward the cock, will cause
the discharge to continue until the rarefaction of the air becomes so great, that
the excess of the atmospheric pressure is more than sufficient to resist the es-
cape of the liquid ; the flow from the cock will therefore be stopped. If the
vent-peg be now removed from the hole, air will be heard to rush in with con-
siderable force and fill the space above the liquid. The atmospheric pressure
on the surface above and on the mouth of the cock being now equal, the liquid
will escape from the cock by the effect of the pressure of the superior column,
according to the principles established in hydrostatics. If the vent-plug be
again placed in the hole, the flow from the cock will be gradually diminished,
and will at length cease. Upon the removal of the vent-peg, the same effect
will be observed as before.
If the lid of a teapot be perfectly close, and fit the mouth air tight, or if the
interstices, as frequently happens, be stopped by the liquid which lies round
the edge of the mouth, then all communication between the surface of the li-
quid in the vessel and the external air is cut off. If we now attempt to pour
liquid from the teapot it will flow at first, but will immediately cease. In this
case the air under the lid becomes rarefied, and the pressure on the surface of
the liquid in the teapot is so far diminished, that the atmospheric pressure re-
sists its discharge at the spout.
To remedy this inconvenience, it is usual to make a small hole somewhere
THE BAROMETER.
295
in the lid of the teapot for the admission of air ; this hole serves the same
purpose as the hole for the vent-peg in the cask.
Although it is not usually practised, a small hole should he made in the lid
of a kettle, but for a different reason. If the lid of a kettle fit it closely, so as
stop all communication between the external air and the interior of the vessel,
when the water contained in it becomes heated, steam will rise from its surface,
3rd the air enclosed in the space between the surface and the lid being heated,
•wfll acquire an increased elastic force. From these causes, the pressure
which acts on the surface of the water in the kettle will continually increase
go long as the lid maintains its position ; this pressure, transmitted by the wa-
ter in the kettle, will overcome the pressure of the atmosphere acting on the
water in the spout, and the effect will be that the water will be raised in the
spout, and flow from it, or, if the lid be not firmly enough fixed to withstand
the pressure of the steam, it will be blown off the kettle. Such effects fall
within every one's experience. If a small hole were made in the lid these
effects would be prevented.
Ink-bottles constructed so as to prevent the inconvenience of the ink thicken-
ing and drying, owe their efficacy to the atmospheric pressure. The quantity
of evaporation which takes place in the liquid, other circumstances being the
same, is proportional to the quantity of surface exposed to the external air. To
diminish this quantity of surface without inconveniently diminishing the quan-
tity of ink in the bottle, bottles have been constructed of the shape represented
in figure 8.
A B is a close glass vessel, from the bottom of which a short tube, B, pro-
ceeds, from which another short tube rises perpendicularly. The depth of the
tube C is such as will be sufficient for the immersion of the pen. When ink
is poured in at C, the bottle, being placed in an inclined position, is gradually
filled up to the knob A : if the bottle be now placed in the position represented
in the figure, the chamber A B being filled with the liquid, the air will be ex-
cluded from it, and the pressure tending to force the ink upward in the short
tube C, will be equal to the weight of the column of ink, the height of which
is equal to the depth of the ink in the bottle A B, and the base of which is
equal to the section of the tube C. This will be manifest from the proper-
ties of hydrostatic pressure, established in hydrostatics. Now, the atmo-
spheric pressure acts on the surface C with a force which would be capable
of sustaining a column of ink many times the height of the bottle A B ; conse-
sequently, thrs pressure will effectually resist the escape of the ink from the
mouth C, and will keep it suspended in the bottle A B. In this case the
whole surface which is exposed to the effect of evaporation, is the surface of
liquid in the tube C, and, consequently, an ink bottle of this kind may be left
many months in a warm room and no perceptible diminution in the quantity of
ink or change in its quality will take place. As the ink in the short tube C is
consumed by use, its surface will fall to a level with the tube B. A small
296 THE BAROMETER.
bubble of air will then insinuate itself through the tube r, and will rise to the (
top of the bottle A B ; there it will exert an elastic pressure, which will cause
the surface in C to rise a little higher, and this effect will be continually re- )
peated until all the ink in the bottle has been used.
The only inconvenience which has been attributed to these ink-bottles arises f
from sudden changes in the temperature to which they are exposed. When ;
the external air, having been previously warm, becomes suddenly cold, the \
small quantity of air which is included in the bottle A not being cooled so fast /
as the external air, will exert an elastic pressure which will cause the ink to I
flow at C. This is an effect, however, which we have never observed, al- £
though we have seen these bottles much used. <
If such an ink-bottle be placed upon a marble chimney-piece, or any other
surface heated beyond the temperature of the air in the room, the air confined
in the bottle will then become heated, and acquire increased elastic force, and
in this case the ink will overflow.
The fountains for supplying water to bird-cages are constructed upon the
same principle.
The pneumatic trough used in the chemical laboratories, and the gas-hold-
ers or gasometers used in gas works, depend on the atmospheric pressure. A
vessel having its mouth upward, is completely filled with a liquid. The mouth
is then stopped, a flat piece of glass, or a smooth plate of metal, pressed
against it, and the vessel is inverted, the mouth being plunged in a cistern
filled with the same liquid. If the height of the vessel in this case be less
than the height of the column of the liquid which the atmospheric pressure
would support, the vessel will continue to be completely filled with the liquid,
even after the plate is removed from its mouth ; for the atmospheric pressure,
acting on the surface of the liquid in the cistern, will prevent the liquid con-
tained in the vessel from falling out of it. Any one may satisfy himself of this
fact. Take a wine-glass and. fill it with water, and then, having applied a
piece of card to its mouth so as to prevent the water from escaping, invert it,
and plunge the mouth downward in a basin of water. Let the card be then
removed, and let the glass be raised above the surface, still, however, keeping
the edge of its mouth below the surface. It will be observed that the glass
will still remain completely filled with water. Take a small quill, or a hol-
low piece of straw, and insert one end in the water, so that it will be im-
mediately below the mouth of the glass, and at the same time blow gently
» through the other end, so as to introduce air in small quantities into the water
) immediately under the mouth of the glass. This air will ascend in bubbles,
and will find its way to the highest part of the glass, and, remaining there,
will expel the water from it ; and this will continue so long as air is supplied,
until all the water contained in the glass is expelled from it, and the glass is
7 filled with air. If the process be further continued, the air will begin to
( escape under the edge of the glass, and rise in bubbles to the surface.
'' The pneumatic trough is a large cistern filled with mercury, in which is
placed, below the surface of the liquid, a shelf to support a receiver. By
plunging any vessel in the deeper part of the trough, it may be filled with mer-
cury, and if it be slowly raised, keeping its mouth still below the surface of
the liquid, it will still remain filled with mercury by the pressure of the atmo-
sphere acting on the surface of the mercury in the trough. The mouth of the
vessel may then be placed on the shelf, while the vessel itself is above the
surface of the mercury.
The trough is represented in fig. 9, at A B. The shelf is placed in it at C ;
a receiver, R, is placed on the shelf, with its mouth downward, over an aper-
ture, D, which communicates with a tube, by which gas may be introduced.
THE BAROMETER.
297
The gas, passing through the tube, rises in bubbles through the mercury in the
receiver, and lodges at the top, and, by continuing this process, the whole of
the mercury will at length be expelled from the receiver, and its place filled
with the gas. In this manner gases of various kinds may be preserved out of
contact with the atmosphere, and the same shelf may be furnished with several
holes, and may support a number of different jars.
The gasometer used in gas-works is constructed on the same principle, only
on a different scale. When used for great supplies of gas, such as are neces-
sary for the illumination of towns, these vessels are constructed of a very large
size, and are immersed in pits lined with cast-iron, and filled with water. It
is clear that all which has been just explained will be equally applicable, what-
ever be the liquid used in the cistern, 'and for different gases it is necessary to
use different liquids, since the contact with particular liquids will frequently
affect the quality of the gas. The peculiar gurgling noise which is produced
in decanting wine arises from the pressure of the atmosphere forcing air into
the interior of the bottle. In the first instance, the neck of the bottle is com-
pletely filled with liquid, so as to stop the admission of air. When a part of
the wine has flowed out, and an empty space is formed within the bottle, the
atmospheric pressure forces in a bubble of air through the liquid in the neck,
which, by rushing suddenly into the interior of the bottle, produces the sound
alluded to. This effect is continually repeated so long as the neck of the bot-
tle continues to be choked with the liquid. But as the contents of the bottle
are discharged, the liquid, in flowing out, only partially fills the neck ; and
while a stream of wine passes out through the lower half of the neck, a stream
of air passes in through the upper part. The flow in this case being continual
and uninterrupted, no sound takes place.
The atmospheric pressure, acting on the surface of liquids, maintains air
combined with them in a greater or lesser quantity, according to the nature of
the liquid. If an open vessel, containing a liquid, be placed under a receiver,
and the air be exhausted, the air combined with the liquid will be immediately
set free, and will be observed to rise in bubbles to the top ; this effect will be
very perceptible if water be used, but still more so in the case of beer or ale.
When liquor is bottled, the air confined under the cork is condensed, and
exerts upon the surface a pressure greater than that of the atmosphere. This
has the effect of holding in combination with the liquor air which, under the
atmospheric pressure only, would escape. If any air rise from the liquor after
being bottled, it causes a still greater condensation, and an increased pressure
above its surface.
298
THE BAROMETER.
If the nature of the liquor be such as to produce air in considerable quan-
tity, this condensation will at length become so great as to force out the cork;
or, failing to do that, break the bottle. This is found to happen frequently
with beer, ale, or porter. The corks in such cases are tied down by cord or
wire.
When the cork is drawn from a bottle containing liquor of this kind, the
fixed air being released from the pressure of the air which was condensed un-
der the cork, instantly makes its escape, and, rising in bubbles, produces effer-
vescence and froth. Hence the bead observed on porter and similar liquors
and the sparkling of champagne or cider.
I
THE MOON.
Popular Interest attached to the Moon. — Its Distance. — Its Rotation. — Same Face always tow ard
the Earth. — Its Phases — Its changes of Position with regard to the Sun. — Has it an Atmoxphcre ?—
Optical Test to determine it. — Physical dualities of Moonlight. — Is Moonlight Warm or Cold ? —
Does Water exist on the Moon ? — Does the Moon influence the Weather? — Mode of determining
this. — Physical condition of the Lunar Surface. — Absence of Air and Gases. — A bsencc of Liquids. —
Appearance of the Earth as seen from the Moon. — Prevalence of Mountains upon it. — Their gen-
eral Volcanic Character. — Appearance of the Mountain Tycho. — Heights of Lunar Mountains aud
Depths of Ravines. — Telescopic Views of the Moon by Beer and Madler. — Detached Views of
the Lunar Surface. — Condition of a Lunar Crater deducud from Analogy.
THE MOON.
301
THE MOON.
ALTHOUGH it be in mere magnitude, physically considered, one of the most
insignificant bodies of the solar system, yet for various reasor s the MOON has
always been regarded by mankind with feelings of profound interest, and has
been invested by the popular mind with various influences, affecting not only
the physical condition of the globe, but also connected with the phenomena of
the organized world. It has been as much an object of popular superstition as
of scientific observation. These circumstances doubtless are in some degree
owing to its striking appearance in the firmament, to the various changes of
form to which it is subject, and above all to its proximity to the earth, and to
the close alliance existing between it and our planet. It will not be uninter-
esting on the present occasion to collect and present in an intelligible form, the
results of scientific research concerning this body.
THE DISTANCE OF THE MOON.
The distances of all objects in the heavens are ascertained by the same
general principles as that by which the common surveyor determines the dis-
tance of inaccessible objects upon the earth. It need scarcely be said that
a very small proportion of the terrestrial distances with which we are con-
versant are ascertained by the actual admeasurement of the space intervening
between their extreme points. Other more easy and accurate methods are avail-
able, by which we can accurately measure the distance of objects inaccessible
to us, by ascertaining the proportion between these distances and other spaces
which are accessible and measurable by us. In this way it has been ascer-
tained that the distance of the MOON is equal to about thirty times the diameter
of our globe, or in round numbers a quarter of a million of miles.
302
THE MOON.
MAGNITUDE OF THE MOON.
When the distance of a visible object is determined, its magnitude may
easily be ascertained by comparing it directly with another object of known
magnitude and a known distance. To illustrate this by its application to the
MOON, let us take, for example, a cent-piece, which measures about an inch in
diameter, and let it be placed between the eye and the moon at any distance
from the eye. It will be found on the first trial that the coin will appear larger
than the moon ; it will, in fact, completely conceal the moon from the eye and
produce what may be termed a total eclipse of that luminary. Let the coin be
moved however further from the eye, and it will then appear smaller, and will
apparently diminish in size as the distance from the eye is increased. Let it
be removed until it becomes equal in apparent magnitude to the moon, so that
it will exactly cover the disk of the moon, and neither more nor less. If its
distance from the eye be then measured, it will be found to be about ten feet,
or one hundred and twenty inches, or what is the same, two hundred and forty
half inches. But it is known that the distance of the moon is about two hun-
dred and forty thousand miles, and consequently it follows in this case, that
one thousand miles in the moon's distance is exactly what half an inch is in
the coin's distance. Now under the circumstances here supposed, the coin
and the moon are similar objects of equal apparent magnitude. In fact the
coin is another moon on a smaller scale, and we may use the coin to measure
the moon's distance, provided we know the scale, exactly as we use the space
upon a map of any known scale to measure a country. But it has been just
stated that the scale is in this case half an inch to one thousand miles ; since,
then, the coin measures two half inches in diameter, the moon must measure i
two thousand miles in diameter. The moon is then a globe whose diameter '
is about one fourth of that of the earth. Its bulk is about one fiftieth of that of (
our globe, its weight a little less than one fiftieth, and its density something <
less than three fourths of the density of the earth.
ROTATION OF THE MOON.
While the moon moves around the earth in its monthly course, we find by
observations of its appearance, made even without the aid of telescopes, that
the same hemisphere is always turned toward us. We recognise this fact by
observing that the same marks always remain in the same place upon it. Now,
in order that a globe which revolves in a circle around a centre should turn
continually the same hemisphere toward that centre, it is necessary that it
should make one revolution upon its axis in the time it takes so to revolve.
For let us suppose that the globe, in any one position, has the centre round
which it revolves north of it, the hemisphere turned toward the centre is turned
toward the north. After it makes a quarter of a revolution, the centre is to die
east of it, and the hemisphere which was previously turned to the north must
now be turned to the east. After it has made another quarter of a revolution
the centre will be south of it, and it must be now turned to the south. In
the same manner, after another quarter of a revolution, it must be turned to the
west As the same hemisphere is successively turned to all the points of the
compass in one revolution, it is evident that the globe itself must make a single
revolution on its axis in that time.
It appears, then, that the rotaiion of the moon upon its axis being equal to
that of its revolution in its orbit, is 27 days, 7 hours, and 44 minutes. The in-
tervals of light darkness to the inhabitants of the moon, if there were any,
would then be altogether different from those provided in the planets ; there
would be about 13 days of continued light alternately with 13 days of con-
tinued darkness ; the analogy, then, which prevails among the planets with
regard to days and nights, and which forms a main argument in favor of the
conclusion that they are inhabited globes like the earth, does not ho'i good in
the case of the moon.
Although as a general proposition it be true that the same hemisphere of the i
moon is always turned toward the earth, yet there are small variations at the /
edge called librations, which it is necessary to notice. The axis of the moon is <
not exactly perpendicular to its orbit, but is inclined at a small angle. By rea- \
son of this inclination, the northern and southern poles of the moon lean al-
ternately in a slight -degree to and from the earth.
When the north pole leans toward the earth, we see a little more of that re-
gion, and a little less when it leans the contrary way. This variation in the
northern and southern regions of the moon visible to us, is called the libration
in latitude.
In order that in a strict sense the same hemisphere should be continually
turned toward the earth, the time of rotation of the earth upon its axis must not
only be equal the time of rotation in its orbit, which in fact it is, but its
angular velocity on its axis in every part of its course, must be exactly equal to
its angular velocity on its orbit. Now it happens that while its angular ve-
locity on its axis is rigorously uniform throughout the month, its angular ve-
locity in its orbit is subject to a slight variation ; the consequence of this is
that a little more of its eastern or western edge is seen at one time than at
another. This is called the libration in longitude.
By the diurnal motion of the earth, we are carried with it round its axis ; the
stations from which we view the moon in the morning and the evening, or rather
when it rises, and when it sets, are then different according to the latitude of
the earth in which we are placed. By thus viewing it from different places,
we see it under slightly different aspects. This is another cause of a variation,
which we see in its eastern and western edges ; this is called the diurnal
libration.
PHASES OF THE MOON.
While the moon revolves round the earth, its illuminated hemisphere is al-
ways presented to the sun ; it therefore takes various positions in reference to
the earth. In the annexed diagram the effects of this are exhibited. Let S repre-
sent the sun, and T the earth ; when the moon is at A, between the sun and the
earth, its illuminated hemisphere being turned toward the sun, its dark hemi-
sphere will be presented toward the earth ; it will therefore be invisible. In
this position the moon is said to be in conjunction. When it moves to the po-
sition B, the enlightened hemisphere being still presented to the sun, a small
portion of it only is turned to the earth, and it appears as a thin crescent, as
represented at b. When the moon takes the position of C. at right angles to
the sun, it is said to be in quadrature ; one half of the enlightened hemisphere
only is then presented to the earth, and the moon appears halved, as represented
at c. When it arrives at the position D, the greater part of the enlightened
portion is turned to the earth, and it is gibbous, appearing as represented at d.
When the moon comes in opposition to the sun, as seen at E, the enlightened
hemisphere is turned full toward the earth, and the moon will appear full, un-
less it be obscured by the earth's shadow, which rarely happens. In the same
manner it is shown that at F it is again gibbous ; at G it is halved, and at H
it is a crescent.
When the moon is full, being in opposition to the sun, it will necessarily be
304
THE MOON.
in the meridian at midnight, and will rise as the sun sets, and set as the sun
rises'; and thus, whenever the enlightened hemisphere of the moon is turned
toward us, and when, therefore, it is the most capable of benefiting us, it is
up in the firmament all night ; whereas, when it is in conjunction, as at A, and
the dark hemisphere is turned toward us, it would then be of no use to us, and
is accordingly up during the day. The position at C is called the " first quarter,"
and at G the " last quarter." The position at B is called the first octant ; D
the second octant ; F the third octant ; and H the fourth octant. At the first
and fourth octants it is a crescent, and at the second and third octants it is gib-
bous.
Fig. i.
The apparent motion of the moon in the heavens is much more rapid than
that of the sun ; for while the sun makes a complete circuit of the ecliptic in
365 days, and therefore moves over it at about 1° per day, the moon makes
the same circuit in little more than 27 days, and consequently must move at
the rate of a little less than 14° per day. As the sun and moon appear to
move in the same direction in the firmament, both proceeding from west to
east, the moon will, after conjunction, depart from the sun toward the east at
the rate of about 13° per day. If, then, the moon be in conjunction with the
sun on any given day, it will be 13° east of it at the same time on the follow-
ing day ; 26° east of it after two days, and so on. If, then, the sun set with
the moon on any evening, it will, at the moment of sunset on the following
evening, be 13° east of it, and at sunset will appear as a thin crescent, at a
considerable altitude ; on the succeeding day it will be 26° east of the sun,
and will be at a still greater altitude at sunset, and will be a broader crescent.
After seven days, the moon will be removed 90° from the sun ; it will be at or
near the meridian at sunset. It will remain in the heavens for about six hours
after sunset, and will be seen in the west as the half-moon. Each successive
evening increasing its distance from the sun, and also increasing its breadth, it
will be visible in the meridian at a later hour, and will consequently be longer
apparent in the firmament during the night — it will then be gibbous. After
about fourteen days, it will be 180° removed from the sun, and will be full, and
consequently will rise when the sun sets, and set when the sun rises — being
visible the entire night. After the elapse of three weeks, the distance of the
moon from the sun being about 270°, it will not reach the meridian until nearly
the hour of sunrise ; it will then be visible during the last six hours of the
night only. The moon will then be waning, and toward the close of the
month will only be seen in the morning before sunrise, and will appear as a
crescent.
THE MOON.
305
HAS THE MOON AN ATMOSPHERE ?
In order to determine whether or not the globe of the moon is surrounded \
with any gaseous envelope like the atmosphere of the earth, it is necessary ;
first to consider what appearances such an appendage would present, seen at
the moon's distance, and whether any such appearances are discoverable upon
the moon.
According to ordinary and popular notions, it is difficult to separate the idea
of an atmosphere from the existence of clouds ; yet to produce clouds some-
thing more is necessary than air. The presence of water on the surface is
indispensable, and if it be assumed that no water exist, then certainly the ab-
sence of clouds is no proof of the absence of an atmosphere. Be this as it
may, however, it is certain that there are no clouds upon the moon, for if there
were, we should immediately discover them, by the variable lights and shadows
they would produce. If there is, then, an atmosphere upon the moon, it is one
entirely unaccompanied by clouds.
One of the effects produced by a distant view of an atmosphere surrounding
a globe, one hemisphere of which is illuminated by the sun, is, that the bounda-
ry, or line of separation between the hemisphere enlightened by the sun and
the dark hemisphere, is not sudden and sharply defined, but is gradual — the
light fading away by slow degrees into the darkness. This is an effect pro-
duced by a portion of the atmosphere which extends over the dark hemisphere
being illuminated by the sun. Let A B (fig. 2) be a diameter of the moon
separating the enlightened hemisphere A M B from the dark hemisphere A N
B. Let C E D F be the upper surface of the atmosphere. Let S T be rays
from the sun touching the moon at A B. It is evident that the portion of the
atmosphere included between A T and C T, and that between B T and D T,
Fig. 2.
will be illuminated by the sun ; and if the moon be viewed from a distant point
G, then these latter portions of the atmosphere will be seen throwing a faint
light on a portion of the dark hemisphere, which light will become gradually
fainter till it dies away. This is the effect which on the earth is the cause of
the morning and evening twilight.
Now, if such an effect as this were produced upon the moon, it would be
discoverable by us with the naked eye, and still more certainly with the tele-
scope. When the moon is a crescent, its concave edge is the boundary which
separates the enlightened from the dark hemisphere. When it is in the quar-
ao
ters, the diameter of the semi-circle is also that boundary. In neither of these
cases, however, do we ever discover the slightest indication of any such ap-
pearance as that which has just been described. There is no gradual fading
away of the light into the darkness ; on the contrary, the boundary, though
serrated and irregular, is nevertheless perfectly well-defined and sudden.
All these circumstances conspire to raise a presumption that there does not
exist upon the moon any atmosphere capable of reflecting light in any sensible
degree.
But it may be contended that an atmosphere may still exist, though too atten-
uated to produce a sensible twilight. Astronomers, however, have resorted to
another test of a much more decisive and delicate kind, the nature of which
will be understood by explaining a simple principle of optics.
When a ray of light passes through a transparent medium, such as air, water,
or glass, it is generally deflected from its rectilinear course, so as to form an
angle. A simple and easily-executed experiment will render this intelligible.
Let a visible object, such as a cent-piece, be placed at C, in the bottom of a
bucket. Let the eye be placed at E, so that the side of the bucket, when
empty, shall just conceal the coin from the eye, and so that the nearest point to
the coin visible to the eye shall be at A, in the direction of the line E B A.
Let the bucket be now filled with water, and the coin will become immediate-
ly visible ; the reason of which is, that the ray of light C B proceeding from the
coin is bent at an angle in passing from the water into the air, and reaches the eye
by the angular course C B E. Thus it appears that the coin will be visible
to the eye, notwithstanding the interposition of the opaque side of the bucket.
Fig. 3.
Let us see how this principle can be applied to the case of the moon's atmo-
sphere, if such there be. Let MN (fig. 4) represent the disk of the moon. Let AB
represent the atmosphere which surrounds it. Let C D and E F represent two
lines touching the moon at M and N, and proceeding toward the earth. Let
S T be two stars seen in the direction of these lines. If the moon had no at-
mosphere, these stars would appear to touch the edge of the moon at M and
N, because the rays of light from them would pass directly along the lines
S M D and T N F toward the earth ; but if the moon have an atmosphere, then
that atmosphere will possess the property which is common to all transparent
media of refracting light, and, in virtue of such property, stars in such positions as
Q and R, behind the edge of the moon, would be visible at the earth, for the ray
Q M, in passing through the atmosphere, would be bent at an angle in the direction
Q M P, and in like manner the ray R N would be bent at the angle R N 0 — so that
the stars Q and R would be visible at P and O, notwithstanding the interposi-
tion of the edges of the moon. This effect is precisely the same as that in the
example of the coin in the bucket ; the ray from the star is bent over the edge
of the moon so as to render the star visible notwithstanding the interposition of
THE MOON.
307
that edge just for the same reason and in the same manner as the ray from the
coin is bent over the side of the bucket so as to render the coin visible not- i
withstanding the opacity of that side.
Fig. 4.
This reasoning leads to the conclusion that as the moon moves over the face
of the firmament, stars will be continually visible at its edge which are really
behind it if it have an atmosphere, and the extent to which this effect will take
place will be in proportion to the density of the atmosphere.
The magnitude and motion of the moon and the relative positions of the stars
are so accurately known that nothing is more easy, certain, and precise, than
the observations which may be made with the view of ascertaining whether
any stars are ever seen which are sensibly behind the edge of the moon. Such
observations have been made by the most skilful astronomers, and no such ef-
fect has ever been detected. This species of observation is susceptible of
such extreme accuracy, that it is certain that if an atmosphere existed upon
the moon a thousand times less dense than our own, its presence must have
been detected.
But what is an atmosphere a thousand times less dense than ours ? Our at-
mosphere supports by its pressure a column of thirty inches of mercury in the
barometer. One a thousand times less dense would not support so much as
the thirtieth of an inch ; in short, it may be considered as proved that there
does not exist upon the moon an atmosphere as dense as is found under the re-
ceiver of the most perfect air-pump after that instrument has withdrawn from
it the air to the utmost extent of its power. In fine, it may be considered as
demonstrated that there is no air upon the moon.
THE PHYSICAL QUALITIES OF MOONLIGHT.
It has long been an object oft inquiry among philosophers whether the light
of the moon has any heat, but the most delicate experiments and observations
have failed to detect this property in it.
A thermometer of extreme sensibility, called a differential thermometer, was
the instrument applied to this inquiry. Let E and F be two thin glass bulbs
connected by a rectangular glass tube E A B F partially filled with a liquid to
the level. Let the bulbs E and F contain air. If the bulb F be exposed to
any source of heat or cold different from E, the air within it will expand or
contract., and the liquid in F B will fall or rise. This instrument has such ex-
treme sensibility that it is capable of rendering manifest a change of tempera-
ture amounting to the five hundreth part of a degree. The light of the moon
was collected into the focus of a concave mirror of such magnitude as would <[
have been sufficient, if exposed to the sun's light, to evaporate gold or platinum. ]»
The bulb of the differential thermometer was placed in its focus so as to re- i[
308
3 THE MOON.
Fig. 5.
Pi
:
l l
>E
B *
Lk
ceive upon it the concentrated rays of the moon. Yet no sensible effect was
produced upon the thermometer. We must therefore conclude that the light of
the moon does not possess the calorific property in any sensible degree.
This result will create less surprise when the comparative density of sun-
light and moonlight are considered. It may be assumed without sensible er-
ror that the intensity of the sun's light on the surface of the moon and on the
earth is the same, it follows from this, that supposing no light whatever to be
absorbed by the moon, but the entire light of the sun to be reflected from its
surface undiminished, the intensity of moonlight at the earth would bear to the
intensity of sunlight the same proportion as the magnitude of the moon bears
to the magnitude of the entire firmament, that is, the proportion very nearly of one
to three hundred thousand ; but there is no reflecting surface however perfect
which does not absorb the light incident upon it in a very considerable degree,
and the rugged surface of the moon must be a most imperfect reflector. It may
then be considered as demonstrated that the intensity of moonlight is much more
than three hundred thousand times more feeble than that of sunlight. We
shall not, then, be surprised at the absence of its heating power.
But if the rays of the moon be not warm, the vulgar impression that they
are cold is equally erroneous. We have seen that they produce no effect either
way on the thermometer.
DOES WATER EXIST ON THE MOON ?
We shall presently see that telescopic observation proves the non-existence
of oceans, seas, or any other large reservoirs of water, on the surface of our
satellite. This is not sufficient, however, to establish the total absence of wa-
ter upon it, for besides its possible existence in the form of rivers and small
lakes too minute to be discovered by the telescope, it might exist in the pores
of organized and unorganized matter.
If, however, water, or any other liquid, existed upon the moon, it \vould be
subject to the common process of evaporation, which would take place the
more freely because of the absence of an atmosphere. It is evident, then, that
the existence of liquids on the moon would necessarily be attended with the
existence of an atmosphere surrounding the moon composed of the vapor
of those liquids. It is difficult to imagine how such an atmosphere could ex-
ist without clouds, but its non-existence is conclusively proved by the fact that
its presence cannot be detected by the optical test above-mentioned, by which
the absence of an atmosphere is proved — an atmosphere of vapor, having in >
common with air and other transparent media the property of refraction, its ef- ?
feet on the stars will be similar, and consequently the same test which proves l
the absence of an atmosphere of air equally proves the absence of an atmo- <
sphere of vapor.
THE MOON.
309
DOES THE MOON INFLUENCE THE WEATHER?
Among the many influences which the moon is supposed, by the world in
general, to exercise upon our globe, one of those which have been most uni-
versally believed, in all ages and in all countries, is that which it is presumed
to exert upon the changes of the weather. Although the particular details of
this influence are sometimes pretended to be described, the only general prin-
ciple, or rule, which prevails with the world in general is, that a change of
weather may be looked for at the epochs of new and full moon : that is to say,
if the weather be previously fair it will become foul, and if foul will become
fair. Similar changes are also, sometimes, though not so confidently looked
for, at the epochs of the quarters.
A question of this kind may be regarded either as a question of science, or
a question of fact.
If it be regarded as a question of science, we are called upon to explain
how and by what property of matter, or what law of nature or attraction the
moon, at a distance of a quarter of a million of miles, combining its effects
with the sun, at four hundred times that distance, can produce those alleged
changes ? To this it may be readily answered that no known law or principle
has hitherto explained any such phenomena. The moon and sun must, doubt-
less, affect the ocean of air which surrounds the globe, as they affect the ocean
of water — producing effects analogous to tides ; but when the quantity of such
an effect is estimated, it is proved to be utterly inappreciable, and such as could
by no means account for the meteorological changes here adverted to.
But in conducting investigations of this kind we proceed altogether in the wrong
direction, and begin at the wrong end when we commence with the investiga-
tion of the physical cause of the supposed phenomena. That method of con-
ducting physical inquiries, which was bequeathed to us by the illustrious Ba-
con, and which has led to such an immense extension of our knowledge of
the universe, imperiously requires that before we begin to seek for the causes
of any phenomena, we must first prove beyond the possibility of doubt, the
reality of these phenomena, and ascertain with the utmost precision, all the
circumstances attending them. In other words, we are required to consider all
inquiries of the kind now adverted to, as mere questions of fact, before we
take them as questions of science.
What, then, let us see, is the present question ? It is asserted that the moon
produces such an influence on the weather as to cause it to change at the new
and full moon, and at the quarters. But in this mode of stating the proposi-
tion, there are implicitly included two very distinct points, one of which is a
simple matter of fact, and the other a point of physical science.
First. — It is asserted that at the epochs of a new and full moon, and at the
quarters, there is generally a change of weather. This is a mere statement
of alleged fact.
Second. — It is asserted that the phases of the moon, or in other words, the
relative position of the moon and sun in regard to the earth is the cause of
these changes.
Now it is evidently necessary to settle the first question before we trouble
ourselves with the second, for if it should so happen that the first statement
should prove to be destitute of foundation the second falls to the ground.
The question of fact, here before us, is one most easily settled. In many
meteorological observations throughout Europe, a register of the weather in
all respects, has been kept for a long period of time. Thus the height of the
barometer, the condition of the thermometer, the hydrometer, and the rain
gauge ; the form and character of the clouds, the times of the falling of rain,
< 310
THE MOON.
hail, and snow, and in short, every particular respecting the weather has been
duly registered, from day to day, and often from hour to hour.
The period of the lunar phases, it is needless to say, has also been reg-
istered, and it is, therefore, possible to compare one set of changes with the
other.
This, in fine, has been done. We can imagine, placed in two parallel col-
umns, in juxtaposition, the series of epochs of the new and full moons, and
the quarters, and -the corresponding conditions of the weather at these times,
for fifty or one hundred years back, so that we may be enabled to examine,
as a mere matter of fact, the conditions of tho weather for one thousand or
twelve hundred full and new moons and quarters. The result of such an exami-
nation has been, that no correspondence whatever has been found to exist be-
tween the two phenomena. Thus let us suppose that one hundred and twenty-
five full moons be taken at random from the table : if the condition of the
weather at these several epochs be examined it will be found, probably, that in
sixty-three cases there was a change of weather, and in sixty-two there was
not, so that under such circumstances the odd moon in this division of one hun-
dred and twenty-five would favor the popular opinion ; but if another random
collection of one hundred and twenty-five full moons be taken, and similarly
examined, it will probably be found that sixty-three are not attended by chan-
ges of weather, while sixty-two are. With its characteristic caprice the moon
on this occasion opposes the popular opinion ; in short, a full examination of
the table shows that the condition of the weather as to change, or in any other
respect, has, as a matter of fact, no correspondence whatsoever with the lunar
phases.
Such, then, being the case, it would be idle to attempt to seek for a physical
cause of an effect which is destitute of proof.
PHYSICAL CONDITION OF THE LUNAR SURFACE.
Curiosity will doubtless be awakened in a very lively manner regarding the
physical condition of our moon : what part has the Maker of the solar system
destined this body to play in the economy of his creation 1 Is it a globe teem-
ing with life and organization like the earth ? Is that orb, which rolls in silent,
serene majesty in her silent course through the midnight firmament, the abode
of life and intelligence ? The beauty of her appearance, and the interest insep-
arable from this, naturally lead the mind to conjectures of this kind. Yet the
circumstances which I have unfolded regarding the total absence of air and wa-
ter, appear to exclude the possibility of any such supposition. How, may it be
asked, can it be conceived that a globe can have upon it an organized world
which is destitute of fluid matter in every form ? How can growth, which im-
plies gradual change, increase, and diminution, and all the various effects in which
fluidity is an agent, go on there ? How can they proceed upon such a solid,
arid, unchangeable, crude mass 1 Let it be remembered what a multitude
of purposes in our natural and social economy are subserved by the combina-
tion of the water and the atmosphere of our globe. None of these purposes
can be fulfiiled upon the moon. Perhaps, however, our notions on such ques-
tions may be cleared up to some extent by a careful examination of the facts
that scientific research have collected together respecting the physical condition
of the surface of our satellite.
If we examine the moon carefully, even without the aid of a telescope, we
shall discover upon it distinct and definite lineaments of light and shadow.
These features never change ; there they remain, always in the same position
upon the visible orb of the moon. Thus the features that occupy its centre
e*s**r^r- .
THE MOON.
now, have occupied the same position throughout all human record. We have
already stated that the first and most obvious inference which this fact suggests,
is that the same hemisphere of the moon is always presented toward the earth,
and consequently, the other hemisphere is never seen, nor can we ever see it.
This singular characteristic which attaches to the motion of the moon round j
the earth, seems to be a general characteristic of all other moons in the
system. Sir William Herschel, by the aid of his powerful telescopes, as-
certained that the moons of Jupiter revolve in the same manner, each pre-
senting continually the same hemisphere to the planet. The cause of this pe-
culiar motion has been attempted to be explained by the hypothesis that the
hemisphere of the satellite which is turned toward the planet, is very elonga-
ted and protuberant, and it is the excess of its weight which makes it tend to
direct itself always toward the primary, in obedience to the universal principle
of attraction. Be this as it may, the effect is in the case of the moon, that
our geographical knowledge is necessarily limited to that hemisphere which
is turned toward us.
If the moon were inhabited, observers upon it would have an extraordinary
spectacle presented to them by the earth. In their firmament the earth is an
object with a diameter four times, and a disk sixteen times, greater than that
which the moon presents to us. A spectator placed on the centre of the hemi-
sphere of the moon which is toward us, would see the orb of the earth pre-
senting the appearance of a gorgeous moon of immense magnitude, always in
his zenith : it would never rise, nor set, nor change its position at all in the
firmament ; it would, however, undergo all the varieties of phases of the moon
— when the moon appears to us full, it would be new, and when the moon ap-
pears new, it would be full ; when the moon appears to us a crescent, it would
be gibbous, and vice versa.
But what is the condition and character of the surface of the moon ? What
are the lineaments of light and shade which we see upon it ? There is no ob-
ject outside the earth with which the telescope has afforded us such minute
and satisfactory information.
If, when the moon is a crescent, we examine with a telescope, even
of moderate power, the concave boundary which, is that part of the lunar
surface where the enlightened hemisphere ends and the dark hemisphere
begins, we shall find that this boundary is not an even and regular curve, which
it undoubtedly would be if the surface of the globe of the moon were smooth
and regular, or nearly so. If, for example, the lunar surface, resembled in its <
general characteristics that of our globe ; granting the total absence of wa- j
ter, and that the entire surface is land, that land had the general character-
istics of the continents of the globe of the earth ; then I say, that the inner
boundary of the lunar crescent would still be a regular curve, broken or inter-
rupted only at particular points. Where great mountain ranges, like those
of the Alps, the Andes, or the Himalaya, might chance to cross it, in such pla-
ces these lofty peaks would project vastly-elongated shadows along the adja-
cent plain ; for it will be remembered, that, being situated at the moment in
question, at the boundary of the enlightened and darkened hemispheres, the
shadows would be those of evening and morning ; which are prodigiously lon-
ger than the objects themselves. The effects of these would be to cause gaps
or irregularities in the general outline of the inner boundary of the crescent;
with these rare exceptions, the inner boundary of the crescent produced by a
globe like the earth would be an even and regular curve.
Such, however, is not the case with the inner boundary of the lunar cres-
cent, even when viewed by the naked eye, and still less so when magniried
by a telescope.
THE MOON.
It is found, on the other hand, that this boundary is everywhere rugged
and serrated, and brilliantly-illuminated points are seen in the dark parts of the
moon, at some distance from the general boundary of the illuminated part, while
dark shadows of considerable length appear to break into the illuminated sur-
face. In short, there is a continued irregularity throughout the whole extent
of the inner boundary of the lunar crescent. The inequalities thus apparent
indicate singular geographical and geological characteristics of the lunar sur-
face. Each of the bright points which are seen within the dark hemisphere
are the peaks of lofty mountains tinted with the sun's light. They are in the
condition with which all travellers on Alpine points are familiar ; after the sun
has set, and darkness has set in over the valleys at the foot of the chain, the
sun's light still continues to illuminate the lofty peaks above. The dark streaks
which break into the illuminated hemisphere of the moon are those of lofty
mountains within that hemisphere which project their shadows toward the
dark hemisphere.
It appears, then, that the surface of the moon is a continuity of mountainous
regions. If we examine by means of a powerful telescope the full moon, we find
those features rendered larger and more conspicuous, and greatly multiplied in
number. What, it may be asked then, are those peculiar phenomena thus dis-
covered upon the full moon ? What is signified by the dark and what by the
lighter parts ? Elaborate telescopic research has shown us that the dark parts are
generally cavities into which the light of the sun penetrates imperfectly, while
the bright parts are eminences that catch the sun's light with great intensity.
Toward the sides of the full moon, also, the dark portions are caused by
the shadows of mountain peaks and ridges, which are more arid more
elongated the farther these points are removed from the centre of the full
moon.
Within a recent period the moon has been subjected to extremely-elaborate
telescopic examinations by Beer and Madler, who have published some very
magnificent telescopic views of it. The telescopic map of the moon's surface,
published by these eminent observers, measures three feet in diameter, and may
truly be said to exceed in accuracy any chart of the globe of the earth.
The lunar mountains are of various formations and arrangements : peaks
such as that of Teneriffe are common. Mountain ranges following straight
or nearly straight courses are also discoverable ; but the most frequent forma-
tion of the lunar mountains is that which resembles the crater of our volcano.
It is estimated that three fifths of the portion of the moon visible to us is cov-
ered with caverns penetrating to a great depth, and surrounded by a circular
wall of rock of a rugged and irregular character. These crater-formed cavities
are very various in diameter, varying from 50 or 60 miles to a few hundred feet,
and the number of them increases as the magnitude diminishes. The ridge
surrounding these craters is generally precipitous and nearly vertical on the
inside, but sloping more gradually on the outside. On descending to the bot-
tom, it is often found to arrange itself in steps or terraces. " The bottom of the
crater," says Professor Nichol, who has examined in detail the labors of Beer
and Madler, " is very often convex, and low ridges of mountains run through
it. We also find in it isolated conical peaks and smaller craters, whose heights,
however, seldom reach the level of the base of the exterior wall. These curi-
ous objects are on some parts of the moon so crowded that they seem to have
pressed on each other, and disturbed and even broken down each other's
boundaries, so that through the mutual interference the most oddly-shaped cav-
erns have arisen. It has often been observed that smaller craters are found on
the walls of the crater, and in many instances we can discern that the wall
has been shaken by force.
THE MOON.
Among the singular remarkable appearances upon the moon, is that of a
system of rays which appear to diverge from the crater-shaped ridges. One of
the most remarkable of these is exhibited in the appearance of the mountain
called Tycho. At the time of full moon, these appearances generally cast
very broad, brilliant bands, issuing from all sides of the crater, and stretching
to a greater or less distance, sometimes extending over a space of several hun-
dred miles. Two characteristics of these singular bands necessarily attract no-
tice. First, the light they throw is exactly of the same kind as that reflected
from the edge of the crater itself, and from the lowest part of the chasm ; so
that we must suppose that the matter forming them had the same origin and
source as the other portion of these mountainous formations. Secondly, it will
be observed that they hold their course without being interrupted by other for-
mations on the lunar surface. If, instead of a general rugged surface, the
face of the moon had been one unbroken plane, the course of these radiating
lines could not have been less disturbed, except that they accommodate them-
selves to the contour of the surface ; if they meet a valley, they bend with it ;
if a precipitous mountain, they rise with it precipitously ; and then pursue
their previous path.
Before we dismiss the mountainous character of the moon's surface, it may
be well to state that the heights of these mountains, and the depths, in many
cases, of their cavities, have been pretty accurately ascertained by the meas-
urement of their shadows. It is generally stated that they are higher
than the mountain ranges of the earth. This, in a literal sense, is not true.
The lunar mountains do not attain to the actual height of some of the highest
of the terrestrial ranges ; but, considering that the moon is a globe on a scale
one fourth that of the earth, it may be truly stated that, according to the relative
sizes of the globes, the lunar mountains are considerably higher than those of
the earth.
It is not the mere height of these mountains that so forcibly commands at-
tention ; it is their universal prevalence.
At the early epochs of telescopic discoveries, when the moon was examined-
by telescopes of inferior power, extensive regions were observed upon it, which
seemed to be level surfaces, and which were therefore mistaken for seas. These
regions in the lunar surface have received names, every conspicuous moun-
tain being designated by a peculiar title, names were also given to those ap-
parent level portions, such as the Mare Imbrium, &c. As the power of the
telescope was improved, it soon became apparent that regions supposed to be
seas, were covered with asperities and inequalities, less indeed in elevation
than other parts of the moon, but still considerable. Every augmentation of
power which the telescope received, only adds fresh proof that there is no por-
tion of the moon absolutely level, and consequently that there does not exist
upon it, at least on the visible hemisphere, a collection of water.
The celebrated telescopic view of the moon produced by the labors of Beer
and Madler, to which I have more than once referred, is exhibited on a re-
duced scale in the frontispiece of this volume. The mere inspection of that
drawing will afford abundant evidence to corroborate the statements which
have been here made ; more especially, if it be remembered that minute por-
tions of that view, where no inequalities are exhibited, will show innumerable
inequalities if submitted to an examination with a still higher magnifying
power
I annex here two highly-magnified views of detached portions of the lunar
surface, supplied by the observations of Madler. In these the prevalence of
the crater form is especially conspicuous. The names of the more remarkable
mountains are here inserted.
j 314
THE MOON
Fig. 6.
Pig. 7.
Astronomers have occasionally extended their speculations beyond the im-
mediate and rigorous limits of observation, and had endeavored by analogy to
afford us some idea of the actual condition of lunar surface. I annex here a
drawing of a lunar crater, from the design of a French observer.
THE ORBIT OF THE MOON.
Although in its general form and character the path of the moon round the
earth is, like that of the orbits of the planets and satellites in general, circular,
yet, when it is submitted, to accurate observation we find that it is strictly
an ellipse or oval, the centre of the earth occupying one of its foci. This
fact can be ascertained by immediate observation upon the apparent magnitude
of the moon. It will be easily comprehended that any change which the apparent
magnitude of the moon as seen from the earth undergoes, must arise from
corresponding changes in the moon's distance from us. Thus, if at one time
the disk of the moon appears larger than at another time, as it cannot be sup-
posed that the actual size of the moon itself could be changed, we can only
ascribe the increase of the apparent magnitude to the diminution of its dis
THE MOON.
tance. Now we find by observation that such apparent changes are actually
observed in its monthly course around the earth. The moon is subject to a
continual and small, though perceptible change of apparent size. We find that
it diminishes until it reaches a minimum, and then gradually increases until it
reaches a maximum.
When the apparent magnitude of the moon is least, it is at its greatest dis-
tance from us, and when its apparent magnitude is greatest, it is at its least
distance from us. The positions in which these distances lie, are directly op-
posite. Between these two positions the apparent size of the moon undergoes
a regular and gradual change, increasing continually from its minimum to its
maximum, and consequently between these positions, its distances must on
the other hand gradually diminish from its maximum to its minimum. If we
lay down on a chart or plan a delineation of the course or path thus determined,
we shall find that it will represent an oval which differs however very little
from a circle ; the place of the earth being nearer to one end of the oval than
the other.
The point of the moon's path in the heavens at which its magnitude appears
the greatest, and when, therefore it is nearest the earth, is called its perigee ;
and the point where its apparent size is least, and where, therefore, its distance
i'rom the earth is greatest, is called its apogee. These two points are called the
moon's apsides.
If the positions of these points in the heavens be observed accurately for a
length of time, it will be found that they are subject to a regular change ; that
is to say, the place where the moon appears smallest, will every month shift
its position ; and a corresponding change will take place in the point where
it appears largest. The movement of these points in the heavens is found to
be in the same direction as the general movement of the planets ; that is,
from west to east, or progressive. This effect is called the progression of the
moon apsides.
THE MOON'S NODES.
If the position of the moon's centre in the heavens be observed from day to
day, it will be found that its path is a great circle, making an angle of about
5° with the ecliptic. This path consequently crosses the ecliptic at two
points in opposite quarters of the heavens. These points are called the
moon's nodes. Their positions are ascertained by observing from time to time
the distance of the moon's centre from the ecliptic, which is called the moon's
latitude ; by watching its gradual diminution, and finding the point at which it
becomes nothing ; the moon's centre is then in the ecliptic and its position is
the node. TJhe node at which the moon passes from the south to the north of
the ecliptic is called the ascending node, and that at which it passes from the
north to the south is called the descending node.
If the positions of these nodes be observed from time to time, it will be
found that they are not fixed ; but that they change their positions in the eclip-
tic, moving upon that line in a direction contrary to that of the planets, or from
east to west. This effect is called the retrogression of the moon's nodes.
HEAT.
Heat as a Branch of elementary Physics neglected. — Has as strong Claims as Light, Electricity, or
Magnetism. — Is a universal Agent in Nature. — In Art. — In Science. — Astronomy. — Chemistry. —
In every Situation of Life. — Applications of it in Clothing and artificial Warming and Cooling. —
Lighting. — Admits of easy Explanation. — Dilatation. — Examples. — Thermometer. — Melting and
Boiling Points. — Evaporation. — Specific Heat. — Heat produced by Compression. — Radiation. —
Conduction. — Incandescence.
HEAT.
319
IEAT.
WHILE almost every other branch of physical science has been made the
subject of systematic treatises without number, and some have been, as it were,
set apart from the general mass of natural philosophy, and raised to the rank
of distinct sciences by the badge of some characteristic title, Heat alone has
been left to form a chapter of chemistry, or to receive a passing notice in trea-
tises on general physics. Light has long enjoyed the exclusive attention of
philosophers, and has been elevated to the dignity of a science, under the name
of Optics. Electricity and Magnetism have also been thought worthy subjects
for separate treatises, yet, can any one who has observed the part played by
heat on the theatre of nature, doubt that its claims to attention are equal to those
of light, and superior to those of electricity and magnetism. It is possible for
organized matter to exist without light. Innumerable operations of nature pro-
ceed as regularly and as effectually in its absence as when it is present. The
want of that sense which it is designed to affect in the animal economy, in no
degree impairs the other powers of the body, nor in man does such a defect
interfere in any way with the faculties of the mind. Light is, so to speak, an
object rather of luxury than of positive necessity. Nature supplies it, there-
fore, not in unlimited abundance, nor at all times and places, but rather with
that thrift and economy which she is wont to observe in dispensing the objects
of our pleasures, compared with those which are necessary to our being. But
heat, on the contrary, she has yielded in the most unbounded plenteousness.
Heat is everywhere present. Every body that exists contains it in quantity
without known limit. The most inert and rude masses are pregnant with it.
Whatever we see, hear, smell, taste, or feel, is full of it. To its influence is
due that endless variety of forms which are spread over and beautify the sur-
face of the globe. Land, water, air, could not for a single instant exist as they
do, in its absence ; all would suddenly fall into one rude formless mass — solid
and impenetrable. The air of heaven hardening into a crust would envelope
the globe, and crush within an everlasting tomb all that it contains. Heat is
320
HEAT.
the parent and the nurse of the endless beauties of organization. The mine-
ral, the vegetable, the animal kingdoms, are its offspring. Erery natural strue-
ture is either immediately produced by its agency, maintained by its influence,
or intimately dependant on it. Withdraw heat, and instantly all life, motie»,
form, and beauty, will cease to exist, and it may be literally said, " Chats has
come again."
Nor is heat less instrumental in the processes of art, than in the operations
of nature. All that art can effect on the productions of nature is to chaage
their form or arrangement — to separate or to combine them. Bodies are moulded
to forms which our wants or our tastes demand ; compounds are decomposed,
and their obnoxious or useless elements expelled, in obedience to our wiihos.
In all such processes heat is the agent. At its bidding the most obdurate masses
soften like wax, and are fashioned to suit our most wayward caprices. Ele-
ments of bodies knit together by the most stubborn affinities — by forces which
might well be deemed invincible — are torn asunder by this omnipotent solvent,
and separately presented for the uc 3 or the pleasure of man, the great Master
of Art.
If we turn from art to science, we find heat assisting or obstructing, as the
case may be, but always modifying the objects of our inquiry. The common
spectator, who, on a clear night, beholds the firmament, thinks he obtains a just
notion of the position and arrangement of the brilliant objects with which it is
so richly furnished. The more exact vision of the astronomer discovers, how-
ever, that he beholds this starry vault through a distorting medium ; that, in
fact, he views it through a great lens of air, by which every object is removed
from its proper place ; nay, more, that this distortion varies from night to night,
and from hour to hour — varies with the varying heat of the atmosphere which
produces it. Such distortion, and the variations to which it is subject, must
then be accurately sustained, before any inferences can be made respecting the
motion, position, magnitude, or distance of any object in the heavens ; and as-
certained it cannot be, unless the laws that govern the phenomena of heat be
known.
But the very instruments which the same astronomer uses to assist his vis-
ion, and to note and measure the positions and mutual distances of the objects
of his inquiry, are themselves eminently subject to the same distorting influence.
The metal of which they are formed swells and contracts with every fluctuation
in the heat to which it is exposed. A sunbeam, a blast of cold air — nay, the
very heat of the astronomer's own body — must produce effects on the figure of
the brazen arch by whose divided surface his measurements and his observations
are effected. Such effects must therefore be known, and taken into account,
ere he can hope to attain that accuracy which the delicacy of his investigations
renders indispensably necessary.
The chemist, in all his proceedings, is beset with the effects of heat, aiding
or impeding his researches. Now it promotes the disunion of combined ele-
ments, now fuses into one uniform mass the most heterogeneous materials.
At one time he resorts to it as the means of arousing dormant affinities ; at an-
other he applies its powers to dissolve the strongest bonds of chemical attrac-
tion. Composition and decomposition are equally attended by its evolution and
absorption ; and often to such an extent as to produce tremendous explosions
on the one hand, or cold, exceeding the rigors of the most severe polar winter,
on the other.
But why repair to the observatory of the astronomer or to the laboratory of
the chemist, for examples of a principle which is in never-ceasing operation
around us ! Sleeping or waking, at home or abroad, by night or by day, at
rest or in motion, in the country or in the town, traversing the burning limits of
HEAT.
321
the tropics, or exploring the rigors of the poles, we are ever under its influence.
We are at once its slaves and its masters.
We are its slaves : — Without it we cannot for a moment live. Without its
well-regulated quantity we cannot for a moment enjoy life. It rules our pleas-
ures and our pains ; it lays us on the sick bed, and raises us from it. It is our
disease and our physician. In the ardor of summer we languish under its ex-
cess, and in the rigor of winter we shiver under its defect. Does it accumu-
late around us in undue quantity, we burn with fever; does it depart from
us with unwonted rapidity, we shake with ague ; or writhe under the pains of
rheumatism, and the tribe of maladies which it leaves behind when it quits us.
We are its masters : — We subdue it to our will and dispose it to our pur-
poses. Amid arctic snows we confine it around our persons, and prevent its
escape by a clothing* impervious to it. Under a tropical sun we exclude it by
like means. We extort it from water to obtain the luxury of ice in hot seasons,
and we force it into water to warm our apartmentsf in cold ones. Do we trav-
erse the seas — it lends wings to the ship, and bids defiance to the natural op-
ponents, the winds and the tides. Do we traverse the land — it is harnessed to
the chariot, and we outstrip the flight of the swiftest bird, and equal the fury
of the tempest.;};
If we sleep, our chamber and our couch are furnished with contrivances for
its due regulation. If we eat, our food owes its savor and its nutrition to heat.
From this the fruit receives its ripeness, and by this the viands of the table
are fitted for our use. The grateful infusion which forms our morning repast
might remain for ever hidden in the leaf |[ of the tree, the berry§ of the plant, or
the kernel^! of the nut, if heat did not lend its power to extract them. The
beverage that warms and cheers us, when relaxed by labor or overcome by fa-
tigue, is distilled, brewed, or fermented, by the agency of heat. The produc-
tions of nature give up their sanative principles to this all-powerful agent ; and
hence the decoction or the pill is produced to restore health to the sinking
patient.
When the sun hides his face and the heavens are veiled in darkness, whence
do we obtain light ? Heat confers light upon air, and the taper burns and the
lamp blazes,** producing artificial day ; guiding us in the pursuits of business or
of pleasure, and thus adding to the sum of life, by rendering hours pleasant
and useful which must otherwise have been lost in torpor or in sleep.
These, and a thousand other circumstances, prove how important a physical
agent is that to the explication of whose effects the pages of the present dis-
course are devoted. But it is not alone the intrinsic importance of the sub-
ject, nor its connexion with every natural appearance that can attract observa-
tion or excite inquiry, which has induced us to examine it. It presents other
advantages which merit peculiar consideration, with a view to popular instruc-
tion.
The phenomena all admit of being explained without the aid of abstruse
reasoning, technical language, or mathematical symbols. The subject abounds
* Clothing, in general, is composed of non-conducting substances, which in cold weather prevents
the heat produced by the body from escaping, and preserves its temperature; and in hot weather
excludes the heat from the body, so as to prevent unrtue warmth.
t Buildings are warmed by hot water carried through the apartments in pipes.
i The swiftest flight of a carrier pigeon does not exceed the rate of twenty-six miles an hour. It is
calculated that the velocity of a high wind is at the rate of about thirty to thirty-five miles an hour.
The steam-carriages on the Manchester and Liverpool Railway have been known to travel about
six-and-thirty miles an hour ; and it is slated, in the evidence before a committee of the House of
Commons, that steam-carriages have run on common roads at a speed exceeding forty miles an hoar.
|j The tea-tree.
$ Coffee.
IF Chocolate.
"** Flame is gas, or air, rendered so hot as to become luminous.
21
in examples of the most felicitous processes of induction, from which the gen-
eral reader may obtain a view of that beautiful logic, the light of which Bacon
first let in on the obscurity in which he found physics involved. And, finally,
the whole range of our domestic experience presents a series of familiar and
pointed illustrations of the principles to which it leads.
The first and most common effect of heat is to increase the size of the body
to which it is imparted. This effect is called dilatation, or expansion ; and the
body so affected is said to expand, or be dilated. If heat be abstracted from a
body, the contrary effect is produced, and the body contracts. These effects
are produced in different degrees, and estimated by different methods, according
as the bodies which suffer them are solids, liquids, or airs.
The dilatation of solids is very minute, even by considerable additions of heat ;
that of liquids is greater, but that of air is greatest of all.
The force with which a solid dilates is equal to that with which it would
resist compression ; and the force with which it contracts is equal to that with
which it would resist extension. Such forces are, therefore, proportional to
the strength of the solid, estimated with reference to the power with which
they would resist compression or extension.
The force with which liquids dilate is equivalent to that with which they
would resist compression ; as liquids are nearly incompressible, this force is
very considerable.
As air is capable of being compressed with facility, its dilatation by heat is
easily resisted. If such dilatation be opposed by confining air within fixed
bounds, then the effect of heat, instead of enlarging its dimensions, will be to
increase its pressure on the surface by which it is confined.
The works of clocks and watches swell and contract with the vicissitudes
of heat and cold to which they are exposed, When the pendulum of a clock
or balance-wheel of a watch is thus enlarged by heat, it swings more slowly,
and the rate is diminished. On the other hand, when it contracts by cold, its
vibration is accelerated, and the rate is increased. Various contrivances have
been resorted to to counteract these effects. When boiling water is poured
into a thick glass, the unequal expansion of the glass will tear one part from
another, and produce fracture. The same vessel contains a greater quantity of
cold than of hot water.
If a kettle, completely filled with cold water, be placed on a fire, the water,
when it begins to get warm, will swell, and spontaneously flow from the spout
of the kettle until it ceases to expand.
If a bottle well corked be placed before the fire, especially if it contain fer-
mented liquor in which air is fixed, the air confined in it will acquire increased
pressure by the heat imparted to it, and its effort to expand will at length be so
great that the cork will shoot from the bottle, or the bottle itself will burst.
Thus we perceive that the magnitude of a body depends on the quantity of
heat which has been imparted to it, or abstracted from it ; and as it must be in
a state of continual variation, with respect to the heat which it contains, it fol-
lows that it must be in a state of continual variation with respect to its magni-
tude. We can, therefore, never pronounce on the magnitude of any body with
exactness, unless we are at the same time informed of its situation with respect
to heat. Every hour the bodies around us are swelling and contracting, and
never for one moment retain the same dimensions ; neither are these effects
confined to their exterior dimensions, but extend to their most intimate com-
ponent particles. These are in a constant state of motion, alternately ap-
( proaching to and receding from one another, and changing their relative posi-
tions and distances. Thus, the particles of matter, sluggish and inert as they
appear, are in a state of constant motion and apparent activity.
HEAT. 303
Since the magnitude of any body changes with the heat to which it is ex-
posed, and since, when subject to the same calorific influence, it alwa\s has
the same magnitude, these dilatations and contractions, which are the constant
effects of heat, may be taken as the measure of the physical cause which pro-
duced them. The changes in magnitude which a body suffers by changes in
the heat to which it is exposed, are called changes of temperature ; and the ac-
tual state of a body at any moment, determined by a comparison of its magni-
tude with the heat to which it is exposed, is called its temperature. At the
same temperature the same body always has the same magnitude ; and when its
magnitude increases, by being exposed to heat, its temperature is said to rise ;
and, on the contrary, when its magnitude is diminished, its temperature is said
to fall. The variation of magnitude of any body is therefore taken as a meas-
ure of temperature ; but as it would be inconvenient, in practice, to adopt dif-
ferent measures of temperature, one body is selected by the dilatation and con-
traction of which those of all other bodies are measured, and with this body a
thermometer, or measure of temperature, is formed.
The substance most commonly used for this purpose is a liquid metal called
mercury or quicksilver. Let a glass tube of very small bore, and terminating in
a spherical bulb, be provided, and let the bulb and a part of the tube be filled
with mercury. If the bulb be exposed to any source of heat, the liquid metal
contained in it will expand, and, the bulb being no longer sufficiently capacious
for it, the column in the tube will be pressed upward to afford room for the in-
creased volume of the mercury. On the other hand, if the bulb be exposed to
cold the mercury will contract, and the column in the tube will fall.
If we take another similar instrument, having a bulb of the same magnitude
but a smaller tube, the same change of temperature will cause the mercury in
the tube to rise through a certain space, and this space will be greater than in
the former, in the same proportion as the bore of the tube is smaller, because
in this case the actual dilatation of the mercury in both tubes is the same ; but this
dilatation will fill a more extensive space in the smaller tube. When the bulb,
therefore, has the same magnitude, the thermometer will be more sensible the
smaller the tube ; or, in general, the less the magnitude of the tube, com-
pared with that of the bulb, the greater will be the sensibility of the instru-
ment.
It is evident, therefore, that the same change of temperature would produce
very different effects on these two instruments, and the indications of the one
could not be compared with those of the other. To render them comparable,
it will be necessary to determine the effects which the same temperature will
produce on both. Let the two instruments be immersed in pure snow in a
melting state. The mercury will be observed to stop in each at a certain
height ; let these heights be marked on the scales attached to the tubes re-
spectively. Now it will happen that at whatever time or place the instruments
may be immersed in melting snow, the mercury will always fix itself at the
points here marked. This, therefore, constitutes one of the fixed points of the
thermometer, arid is called the freezing point. Let the two instruments be now
immersed in pure water in a boiling state, the height of the barometer being
thirty inches at the time of the experiment. The mercury will rise in each to
a certain point. Let this point be marked on the scale of each. It will be
found that at whatever time or place the instruments are immersed in pure
water, when boiling, provided the barometer stand at the same height of thirty
inches, the mercury will rise in each to the point thus marked. This, there-
fore, forms another fixed point on the thermometric scale, and is called the
boiling point.
The distance between these two points on the two thermometers in ques-
L
324
HEAT.
tion, will be observed to be different. In the thermometer which has a tube P
with a smaller bore in proportion to its bulb, the distance will be greater than
in the other, because the same volume of mercury which forms the dilatation
of that liquid from the freezing to the boiling point fills a greater length of the
smaller than of the large tube. It is plain, therefore, that since this given dif-
ference of temperature causes the column of mercury to rise through a greater
space in the one than in the other, the one instrument is properly said to pos-
sess a greater sensibility than the other.
Let the intervals on the scale between the freezing and boiling points be
now divided into 180 equal parts ; and let this division be similarly continued
below the freezing point to the place 0 ; and let each division upward from that
be marked with the successive numbers, 1, 2, 3, &c. The freezing point will
now be the 32d division, and the boiling point will be the 212th division.
These divisions are called degrees, and the freezing point is, therefore, 32°,
and the boiling temperature 212°.
It is evident, that although the degrees on these two instruments are differ-
ent in magnitude, still the same temperature is marked by the same degree on
each, and therefore their indications will correspond.
The manner of dividing and numbering the scale here described, is that
which is commonly adopted in England, and is called Fahrenheit's scale.
Other methods have been adopted in France and elsewhere, which will hereaf-
ter be described.
Let a mass of snow at the temperature of 0°, having a thermometer im-
mersed in it, be exposed to an atmosphere of the temperature of 80°. As the
snow gradually receives heat from the surrounding air, the thermometer im-
mersed in it will be observed to rise until it attain the temperature of 32°.
The snow will then immediately begin to be converted into water, and the
thermometer will become stationary. During the process of liquefaction, and
while the snow constantly receives heat from the surrounding air, the ther-
mometer will still be fixed, nor will it begin to rise until the process of lique-
faction is completed. Then, however, the thermometer will again begin to
rise, and will continue to rise until it attain the same temperature as the sur-
rounding air.
Heat, therefore, when supplied to the snow in a sufficient quantity, has the
effect of causing it to pass from the solid to the liquid state, and while so em-
ployed, becomes incapable of affecting the thermometer. The heat thus con-
sumed or absorbed in the process of liquefaction, is said to become latent, the
meaning of which is, that it is in a state incapable of affecting the ther-
mometer.
The property here described, with respect to snow is common to all solids.
Every body in the solid state, if heat be imparted to it, will at length attain a
temperature at which it will pass into the liquid state. This temperature is called
its point of fusion, its melting point or its fusing point ; and in passing into the
liquid state, the thermometer will be maintained at the fixed temperature of
fusion, and will not be affected by that heat which the body receives while un-
dergoing the transition from the solid to the liquid state.
If water, at the temperature of 60°, be placed in a vessel on a fire having a
thermometer immersed in it, the thermometer will be observed gradually to
rise, and the water will become hotter, until the thermometer arrives at the
temperature of 212°.
Other liquids are found to undergo a like effect. If exposed to heat, their
temperatures will constantly rise, until they attain a certain limit, which is dif-
ferent in different liquid ; but having attained this limit they will enter into a
state of ebullition, and no addition of heat can impart to them a higher temper-
HEAT.
325
ature. The temperature at which different liquids thus boil is called their
boiling point.
The melting or freezing point and the boiling point constitute important
physical characters, by which different substances are distinguished from each
other.
When heat continues to be supplied to a liquid which is in the state of ebul-
lition the liquid is gradually converted into vapor or steam, which is a form of
body possessing the same physical characters as atmospheric air. The steam
or vapor thus produced has the same temperature as the water from which it
was raised, notwithstanding the great quantity of heat imparted to the water in
its transition from the one state to the other. This quantity of heat is therefore
latent.
The abstraction of heat produces a series of effects contrary to those just
described. If heat be withdrawn from a liquid, its temperature will first be
gradually lowered until it attain a certain point, at which it will pass into the
solid state. This point is the same as that at which, being solid, it would pass
into the liquid state. Thus water, gradually cooled from sixty degrees down-
ward, will fall in its temperature until it attains the limit of thirty-two degrees ;
there it passes into the solid state and forms ice ; and during this transition a
large quantity of heat is dismissed, while the temperature is maintained at
thirty-two degrees.
In like manner, if heat be withdrawn from steam or vapor, it no longer re-
mains in the aeriform state, but resumes the liquid form. In this case it un-
dergoes a very great diminution of bulk, a large volume of steam forming only
a few drops of liquid. Hence the process by which vapor passes from the
aeriform to the liquid state has been called condensation.
When a liquid boils vapor is generated in every part of its dimensions, and
more abundantly in those parts which are nearest the source of heat ; but li-
quids generate vapor from their surfaces at all temperatures. Thus, a vessel
of water at the temperature of eighty degrees will dismiss from its surface a
quantity of vapor, and if its temperature be retained at eighty degrees, it will
continue to dismiss vapor from its surface at the same rate, until all the water
in the vessel has disappeared. This process, by which vapor is produced at
the surface of liquids at temperatures below their boiling point, is called vapor-
ization.
The process of vaporization is generally going on at the surface of all collec-
tions of water, great or small, on every part of the globe ; but it is in still more
powerful operation when liquid juices are distributed through the pores, fibres,
and interstices of animal and vegetable structures. In all these cases, the rate
at which the liquid is converted into vapor is greatly modified by the pres-
sure of the atmosphere. The pressure of that fluid retards vaporization, if its
effects be compared with that which would take place in a vacuum ; but,
on the other hand, the current of air, continually carrying away the vapor, as
fast as it is formed, in the space above the surface, gives room for the formation
of fresh vapor, and accelerates the transition of the liquids to the vaporous state.
The process of vaporization, thus modified by the atmosphere and its currents,
so far as it affects the collections of water and liquids generally in various parts
of the earth, is denominated evaporation.
The condensation of the vapor, thus drawn up and suspended in the atmo-
sphere by various causes, tending to extricate the latent heat which gives to it
the form of air, produces all the phenomena of dew, rain, hail, snow, &c., &c.
A slight degree of cold converts the vapor suspended in the atmosphere into a
liquid, and by the natural cohesion of its molecules it collects into spherules or
drops, and falls in the form of rain. A greater degree of cold solidifies or con-
f
326
HEAT.
geals its minute particles, and they descend to the earth in flakes of snow. If,
however, they are first formed into liquid spherules, and then solidified, hail is
produced.
Thus there is a constant interchange of matter between the earth and its at-
mosphere— the atmosphere continually drawing up water in the form of vapor,
and, when the heat which accomplishes this is diminished, precipitating it in
the form of dew, rain, snow, or hail.
Different bodies are differently susceptible of the effects of heat. To pro-
duce a given change of temperature in some requires a greater supply of heat
than in others. Thus, to raise water from the temperature of 50° to the tem-
perature of 60° will require a fire of given intensity to act upon it about thirty
times as long as to raise the same weight of mercury through the same range
of temperature. In the same manner, if various other bodies be submitted to
a like experiment, it will be found that to produce the same change of temper-
ature on the same weights of each will require the action of the same fire for a
different length of time.
The quantities of heat necessary to produce the same change of temperature
in equal weights of different bodies are therefore called the specific heats of
these bodies. If 1,000 express the specific heat of pure water, or the quantity
of heat necessary to raise a given weight of pure water through 1°, then 33
will express the specific heat of mercury, or the quantity of heat necessary to
raise the same weight of mercury through 1° ; 70 will express the specific
heat of tin, 80 of silver, 110 of iron, and so on. The specific heat furnishes
another physical character by which bodies, whether simple or compound, of
different kinds may be distinguished.
The specific heat of the same body is changeable with its density. In gen-
eral, as the density is increased, the specific heat is diminished. Now, if the
specific heat of a body be diminished, since a less quantity of heat will then
raise it through 1° of temperature, the quantity of heat which it actually con-
tains will make it hotter when it is rendered more dense, and colder when it
is rendered more rare.
Hence we find that, when certain metals are hammered, so as to increase
their density, they become hotter, and sometimes become red hot.
If air be squeezed into a small compass, it becomes so hot as to ignite tin-
der ; and the discharge of an air-gun is said to be accompanied by a flash of
light in the dark.
On the other hand, if air expand into an enlarged space, it becomes colder.
Hence, in the upper regions of the atmosphere, where the air is not compressed,
its temperature is much reduced, and the cold becomes so great as to cause, on
high mountains, perpetual snow.
The specific heats of compounds frequently differ much from those of the
components. If the specific heat of bodies be greatly diminished by their com-
bination, then the quantity of heat which they contain will render the compound
much hotter than the components before the combination took place. If, on the
other hand, the specific heat of the compound be greater than that of the com-
ponents, then the compound will be colder, because the heat which it contains
will be insufficient to sustain the same temperature.
Hence we invariably find that chemical combination produces a change of
temperature. In some cases cold is produced, but in most cases a considera-
ble increase of temperature is the result.
Heat is propagated through space in two ways : First by radiation, which
is apparently independent of the presence of matter, and, secondly, by conduc-
tion, a word which expresses the passage of heat from particle to particle of a
mass of matter.
HEAT.
327
The principal properties of heat are so nearly identical with those of light,
that the supposition that heat is obscure light is countenanced by strong proba-
bilities. Heat proceeds in straight lines from the point whence it emanates,
diverging in every direction. These lines are called rays of heat, and the
process is called radiation. Heat radiates through certain bodies which are
transparent to it, as glass is to light. It passes freely through air or gas ; it
also passes through a vacuum, and therefore its propagation by radiation does
not depend on the presence of matter. Indeed, the great velocity with which
it is propagated by radiation proves that it does not proceed by transmission
from particle to particle.
The rays of heat are reflected and refracted according to the same laws as
those of light. They are collected in foci by concave mirrors and convex
lenses. These undergo polarization, both Tjy reflection and refraction, in the
same manner as rays of light. They are subject to all the complicated phe-
nomena of double refraction by certain crystals, in the same manner exactly as
rays of light.
Certain bodies possess imperfect transparency to heat : such bodies transmit
a portion of the heat which impinges on them, and absorb the remainder, the
portions which they absorb raising their temperature.
Surfaces also possess the power of reflecting heat in different degrees. They
reflect a greater or less portion of the heat incident on them, absorbing the re-
mainder. The power of transmission, absorption, and reflection, vary accord-
ing to the nature of the body and state of its surface, with respect to smooth-
ness, roughness, and color.
Rays of heat, like those of light, are differently refrangible, and the average
refrangibility of calorific rays is less than that of luminous rays.
When a body at a high temperature, as the flame of a lamp or fire, is placed
in contact with the surface of a solid, the particles immediately in contact with
the source of heat receive an elevated temperature. These communicate heat
to the contiguous particles, and these again to particles more remote. Thus
the increased temperature is gradually transmitted through the dimensions of
the body, until the whole mass in contact with the source of heat has attained
the temperature of the body in contact with it.
Different substances exhibit different degrees of facility in transmitting heat
through their dimensions in this manner. In some the temperature spreads
with rapidity, and an equilibrium is soon established between the body receiv-
ing heat and the body imparting it. Such substances are said to be good con-
ductors of heat. Metals in general are instances of this ; earths and woods are
bad conductors ; and soft, porous, or spongy substances still worse.
When the temperature of a body has been raised to a certain extent by the
application of any source of heat, it is observed to become luminous, so as to
be visible in the absence of other light, and to render objects around it visible.
Thus, a piece of iron, by the application of heat, will at first emit a dull, red
light, and will become more luminous as the temperature is raised, until the
red light is converted to a clear, white one, and the iron is said to be white hot.
This process, by which a body becomes luminous by the increase of its tem-
perature, is called incandescence. There is reason to believe that all solid
bodies begin to be luminous when heated at the same temperature.
The degree of heat of incandescent bodies is distinguished by their color ;
the lowest incandescent heat is a red heat, next the orange neat, the yellow
heat, and the greatest a white heat.
The heating powers of rays of light vary with their color, in general those
of the lightest color having the most heating power. Thus yellow light has a
greater calorific power then green, and green than blue.
328
Hence the absorption of heat from the same light depends on the color of
the absorbing bodies. Those of a dark color absorb more heat than those of a
light color, because the former reflect the least calorific rays, while the latter
reflect the most.
There are several substances which, when heated to a certain temperature, C
acquire a strong affinity for oxygen gas ; and when the elevation of tempera- >
ture takes place in an atmosphere of oxygen, or in ordinary atmospheric air, <
the oxygen rapidly combines with the heated body, and in the combination so J
great a quantity of heat is evolved that light and flame are produced. This (
process is called combustion. Combustion is, therefore, a sudden chemical com- \
bination of some substance with oxygen, attended by the evolution of heat and j
light.
The flame of a candle or lamp is an instance of this. The substance in the J
wick, having its temperature raised in the first instance by the application of /
heat, forms a rapid combination with the oxygen of the atmosphere, and this (
combination is attended with the evolution of heat, which sustains the process \
.of combustion.
Flame is, therefore, gaseous matter, rendered so hot as to be luminous. \
There are a few other substances besides oxygen by combination with which
light and heat may be evolved, and which may therefore produce combustion.
These are the substances called, in chemistry, chlorine, iodine, and bromine ;
but, as they are not of common occurrence, the phenomenon of combustion at-
tending them may be regarded rather as a subject of scientific inquiry than of
practical occurrence. All ordinary cases of combustion are examples of the
combination of oxygen with a combustible.
I have thus, in a succinct and clear manner, laid before you the principal
phenomena, and explained the most ordinary terms, which I shall have occa-
sion to use in the discourses I intend to deliver on the subject of heat. These
explanations will, I trust, greatly facilitate the comprehension of the la\vs and
the narrative of the discoveries which I shall unfold to you.
GALYAIISM.
} Origin of the Discovery. — Galvani Professor at Bologna. — Accidental Effect on Frogs. — Igno.
ranee of Galvani. — His Experiments on tlie Frog. — Accidental Discovery of the Effect of Metal-
lic Contact. — Animal Electricity. — Galvani Opposed hy Volta. — Volta's Theory of Contact Pre-
vails.— Fabroni's Experiments. — Invention of the Voltaic Pile. — La Couronne de Tasses. — Na-
poleon's Invitation to Volta. — Physiological Effects of the Pile. — Anecdote of Napoleon. — Decom-
position of Water. — Cruickshank's Experiments. — Davy commences his Researches. — Effect of
Chemical Action discovered. — Hitters Secondary Pile. — Calorific Effectsof the Pile. — Hypothesis
of Grotthns. — Davy's celebrated Bakerie.n Lecture. — Prize awarded him hy the French Acad-
emy.— His Discovery of the Transferring Power of the Pile in Chemical Action. — His Electro-
chemical Theory. — Decomposition of Potash and Soda. — New Metals, Potassium and Sodium. —
Discovery of Barium. — Strontium, Calcium, and Magnesium. — Rapid Discover}' of the other new
Metals. — Dry Piles.
I '*^u~*s*S
GALVANISM.
331
GALVANISM.
THE investigation of the mechanical phenomena of material substances has
been, in modern works, conducted by resolving these effects into two principal
divisions ; those in which the bodies exhibiting them are at rest, and those in
which they are in motion. As applied to solid bodies, these divisions have
been respectively denominated STATICS and DYNAMICS ;* and, as applied to
fluids, HYDROSTATICS and HYDRODYNAMICS. Electricity being assumed to be
a physical agent, having the properties of an elastic fluid, and capable, like
the grosser solids and fluids, of being maintained in a state of equilibrium by
the mutual action and reaction of antagonist forces, or of moving in definitfe di-
rections, and forming currents of greater or less intensity, the analysis of its
effects would naturally be conducted by means of the same classification ;
and, accordingly, that division of the science in which the electric fluid is con-
sidered in a state of equilibrium or repose, and in which the physical conditions
on which such equilibrium depends are investigated, would be denominated
ELECTRO-STATICS, while that in which the effects of currents of electricity are
considered, would be called ELECTRO-DYNAMICS.
REST being in its nature more simple than MOTION, and the cases of forces
mutually destructive of each other's influence, and therefore productive of equi-
librium, being more simple than those in which motion ensues from the com-
bined action of forces differing from each other in various respects, it was nat-
ural that, in every part of physics, the principles of statics should be first es-
tablished and understood. Such has been accordingly the course which the
progress of discovery has taken in other branches of natural philosophy, and
electricity is not an exception to it. All the phenomena which have been hith-
erto adverted to in this notice belong properly to ELECTRO-STATICS. In all of
them the electric fluid is contemplated in a state of equilibrium ; or if its mo-
tion be occasionally considered, it is only in sudden and momentary changes
from one state of equilibrium to another. Thus, when a Leyden jar is char-
* The terms STEREO-STATICS and STEREO-DYNAMICS would be preferable.
332 GALVANISM.
\ ~
^ ged, the positive electricity accumulated on the inner surface of the glass is
maintained there, in spite of the tendency it has to escape in virtue of its self-
expansive property, by the attraction of the negative electricity accumulated
on the external surface. When a communication is made between the inter-
nal and external surfaces by a metallic wire, this state of equilibrium ceases ;
the positive fluid of the inner surface runs along the wire in one direction, and
the negative fluid of the external surface runs along it in the other direction,
until each neutralizes the other, and a new state of equilibrium is established
by the actual combination of the two fluids. If this change occupied a sensi-
ble interval of time, and it were required to investigate the effects which would
be produced during that interval either on the jar and wire, or on any bodies
which might be within their influence, the question would properly belong to
ELECTRO-DYNAMICS ; but in fact the discharge, as it is called, or the transition
from the one state of equilibrium to the other, is instantaneous, and the same
may be said of all the phenomena which form the subject of the preceding
pages.
In the commencement of this notice, the frequent influence of circumstances,
apparently fortuitous, on the progress of discovery in the sciences, has been
mentioned. It would be difficult, either in the history of the sciences or of the
political growth of states, to find a more signal example of this than was offered
by the discovery of that powerful instrument of physical investigation, the
VOLTAIC PILE. "It may be proved," says M. Arago, "that this immortal dis-
covery arose in the most immediate and direct manner from a slight cold with
which a Bolognese lady was attacked in 1790, for which her physician pre-
scribed the use of frog-broth."
Galvani was professor of anatomy at Bologna. At the period just mentioned,
it happened that several frogs, divested of their skins, and prepared for cook-
ing the broth prescribed for Madame Galvani, lay upon a table in the laboratory
of the professor, near which at the moment stood an electrical machine. One
of the professor's assistants, being employed in some process in which the ma-
chine was necessary, took sparks occasionally from the conductor, when Mad-
ame Galvani was astonished to see the limbs of the dead frogs convulsed with
movements resembling vital action. She called the attention of her husband
to the fact, who repeated the experiment, and found the motions reproduced as
often as a spark was taken from the conductor. This was the first, but not the
only or chief part played by chance in this great discovery.
Galvani was not familiar with electricity. Had he been so, he would have
seen in the convulsions of the frog evidence of nothing more than a high elec-
troscopic sensibility in the nerves of that animal, and an interesting example
of the known principle of electrical induction. But luckily for the progress of
science, he was more an anatomist than an electrician, and beheld with senti-
ments of unmixed wonder the manifestation of what he believed to be a new
principle in the animal economy, and, fired with the notion of bringing to light
the proximate cause of vitality, engaged with ardent enthusiasm in a course of
experiments on the effects of electricity on the animal system. It is rarely
that an example is found of the progress of science being favored by the igno-
rance of its professors.
Chance now again came upon the stage. In the course of his researches he
had occasion to separate the legs, thighs, and lower part of the body of the
frog from the remainder, so as to lay bare the lumbar nerves. Having the
members of several frogs thus dissected, he passed copper hooks through part
of the dorsal column which remained above the junction of the thighs, for the
convenience of hanging them up till they might be required for the purposes of
experiment. In this manner he happened to suspend several upon the iron
GALVANISM.
333
balcony in front of his laboratory, when, to his inexpressible astonishment, the
limbs were thrown into strong convulsions. No electrical machine was now
present to exert any influence.
If the supply of capital facts be occasionally due to chance, or to the Being
by whom what is miscalled chance is directed, it is to the operation of the fac-
ulties of exalted minds that the development of the laws of nature is due : if
rude lumps of the natural ore of science be now and then thrown under the feet
of philosophy, the discovery of the vein itself, its depth and direction, its qual-
ity and value, the separation of the precious metal it contains from its baser
elements, the demonstration of its connexion with the phenomena of nature,
and its adaptation to the uses of life, are all and severally the work of that
noble faculty of intellect, that image of his own essence, which the Creator
of the universe has impressed upon man, and which is never more worthily
exercised than in the investigation of those laws of the material world, in all
of which, whether they affect the vast bodies of the universe, or the imper-
ceptible molecules of those around us, there is ever conspicuous a provident
care for the wellbeing of his creatures.
In the convulsions of the frog, suspended by a copper wire on an iron rail,
Galvani saw a new fact, and soon discovered that the circumstance on which it
depended was the simultaneous contact of the metals with the nerves and mus-
cles of the animal. He found that the effects were reproduced whenever the
muscles touched the iron while the nerves touched the copper, but that contact
with the copper alone did not produce them. He next placed the body of the
animal upon a plate of iron, and touching the plate with one end of a copper
wire, brought the other end into contact with the lumbar nerves. The convul-
sions followed as before. Galvani inferred from these and other similar exper-
iments and observations, that the conditions under which the phenomenon was
produced were, that a connexion should be made between the nerves of the
animal and the muscles with which those nerves were united by a continued
line or circuit composed of two different metals ; and he explained this singu-
lar effect by assuming, hypothetically, that, in the animal economy, there exists
a natural source of electricity ; that, at the junction of the nerves and muscles,
the natural electricity is decomposed ; that the positive fluid goes to the nerve,
and the negative to the muscle ; that the nerve and muscle are therefore anal-
ogous to the internal and external coating of a charged Leyden jar ; that the
metallic connexion made between the nerve and the muscle in the experiments
above-mentioned serves as a conductor between these opposite electricities ;
and that, on making the connexion, the same discharge takes place as in the
Leyden experiment.
This theory fascinated for a time the physiologists. The phenomena of animal
life had been ascribed to an hypothetical agent, which passed under the name of
the " nervous fluid." The Galvanic theory consigned this term to the obsolete list ;
and electricity was now the great vital principle, by which the decrees of the
understanding, and the dictates of the will, were conveyed from the organs of
the brain to the obedient members of the body. Those who know how pas-
sionate is the love of a theory which appears to give a satisfactory account of
effects otherwise mysterious, and how much more gratifying to the amour-
propre it is to be able to connect effects with supposed causes, than to be
compelled to view the former as the real limits of our knowledge, will under-
stand the reluctance with which the Bolognese school and its distinguished
leader would surrender a theory so dazzling as animal electricity ; nevertheless
it was doomed soon to fall under the irresistible assaults of physical truth di-
rected against it by a giant intellect, which, though located in a little village of
the Milanese, belonged to mankind.
234
GALVANISM.
Volta. professor of natural philosophy at Como, and subsequently at Pavia,
had been already known for his researches in different parts of physics, but
more especially in electricity. The Bolognese experiments naturally engaged
his attention) and it was not long before his superior sagacity enabled him to
perceive that the theory of Galvani was destitute of any sound foundation,
j ndeed, a single experiment was sufficient to overturn it, though not to carry
conviction of its futility to the minds of its partisans. Volta applied the met-
als in contact with each other to the muscle alone, without touching the nerves,
and the convulsions nevertheless ensued. The analogy of the muscle and
nerve to the Leyden phial was no longer tenable. Volta transferred this anal-
ogy to the two metals, and contended that the mutual contact of two dissimilar
metals must be regarded as the source of the electricity ; that by the contact
the natural electricity was decomposed, and the positive fluid passed to one
metal, and the negative one to the other ; and that the muscle merely played
the part of a conductor in carrying off one of the fluids thus developed.
To this Galvani replied by showing that, when a single metal was used to
connect the nerves and muscles the convulsions ensued, and that therefore the
contact of dissimilar metals could not be the source of the electricity. Volta
rejoined, that it was impossible to be assured of the perfect homogeneity of the
metal, and that any the least heterogeneous matter contained in it would be
sufficient for^his hypothesis. Also, that when a single metal was used, the
convulsions were uncertain, and never produced, except in cases where the
organs were in the highest state of excitability ; whereas, on the contrary, they
happened invariably, and were long continued, when the connexion was made
by two dissimilar metals.
Tenacious of this cherished theory to the last, Doctor Valli, a partisan of
Galvani, confounded the advocates of the school of Pavia, by showing that, by
merely bringing the muscles themselves into contact with the nerves, without
the intervention of any metal whatever, the convulsions ensued. To this — the
expiring effort of the Bolognese party — Volta readily and triumphantly replied,
that the success of the experiments of Valli required two conditions : first, that
the parts of the animal brought into contact should be as heterogeneous as pos-
sible ; and, secondly, the interposition of a third substance between these
organs. This, so far from overturning the theory of Volta, only gave it in-
creased generality, showing, as it did, that electricity was developed, not alone
by the contact of two dissimilar metals, but also by the contact of dissimilar
substances not metallic.
From this time, the partisans of animal electricity gradually diminished, and
no effort worth recording to revive Galvani's theory was made. Meanwhile,
the hypothesis of Volta was, as yet, regarded only as the conjecture of a pow-
erful and sagacious mind, requiring nevertheless much more cogent and direct
experimental verification. This experimental proof he soon supplied.
The first analogy which Volta produced in support of his theory of contact
was derived from the well-known experiment of Sulzer. If two pieces of dis-
similar metal, such as lead and silver, be placed one above and the other below
the tongue, no particular effect will be perceived so long as they are not in
contact with each other ; but if their outer edges be brought to touch each
other, a peculiar taste will be felt. If the metals be applied in one order, the
taste will be acidulous ; if the order be inverted, it will be alkaline. Now, if the
tongue be applied to the conductor of a common electrical machine, an acidu-
lous or alkaline taste will be pe "ceived, according as the conductor is electri-
fied positively or negatively. \ olta contended, therefore, that the identity of
the cause should be inferred from the identity of the effects ; that, as positive
electricity produced an acid savor, and negative electricity an alkaline, on the
GALVANISM. 335
conductor of the machine, the same effects on the organs of taste produced by
the metals ought to be ascribed to the same cause.
However sufficient this analogy might seem to the understanding of Volta,
it was insufficient for the rigid canons of the logic of modern physics, and he
accordingly sought and obtained more direct and unequivocal proof of his hy-
pothesis. Two disks, one of copper and the other of Sine, were attached to
insulating handles, by means of which they were carefully brought into con-
tact, and suddenly separated without friction. They were then presented sev-
erally to a powerful condensing electroscope. The usual indications of elec-
tricity were obtained, and it was shown that this electricity was positive on the
zinc, and negative on the copper. By repeating the contact, and collecting
the electricity by means of the condenser, sparks were produced, and the dem-
onstration was complete.
That the contact of dissimilar metals was followed by the evolution of elec-
tricity, could therefore no longer be doubted. It will, however, hereafter
appear that philosophers are not even yet agreed that the contact is the imme-
diate or the only cause of the disengagement of electricity in such cases.
Chemical agency is now known to be one of the sources of electricity ; and its
operation is so subtle, often so imperceptible, and generally so inevitable, when
heterogeneous molecules come into contact, that doubts have been entertained
whether, in every case where electricity seems to proceed from contact, it has
not really its origin in feeble and imperceptible chemical action.
Although the complete development of this last-mentioned idea belongs to a
much more recent epoch in the progress of electrical discovery, yet the chemi-
cal origin of electricity did not altogether escape notice even at the period to
which we now refer.
Of the numerous philosophers in every part of Europe who took part in the
discussions, and varied and repeated the experiments connected with these
questions, one of those to whom attention is more especially due was Fabroni,
who, in the year 1792,* two years after the discovery of Galvani, communi-
cated his researches to the Florentine Academy. In this paper is found the
first suggestion of the chemical origin of Galvanic electricity.
Fabroni observes that in the mutual contact of heterogeneous metals there
is a reciprocal action which favors chemical change ; that to this action must
be ascribed many well-known phenomena, such as the more rapid oxydation
of certain metals when combined, or in mere contact with other metals. Ac-
cording to him, a metal, like all chemical reagents, has a tendency to combina-
tion with another metal when they are brought into contact ; that this effect is
only prevented by the superior force of cohesion which prevails among the
particles of each. This cohesive force will, however, be lessened in its en-
ergy by the antagonism of the attraction of the molecules of the two metals
toward each other, just in the same manner as it would be lessened by the
action of heat. Being thus lessened, its opposition to the tendency which the
particles of either metal have to combine with oxygen, taken either from the
atmosphere, or obtained from the decomposition of water, would be proportion-
ally diminished, and such oxydation would accordingly be promoted. In this
way Fabroni accounted for the tendency of certain alloys of metal to oxydation,
and for the well-known fact that iron nails, then used in attaching the copper
sheathing to vessels, were rendered so liable to rust by their contact with the
copper, that they became soon too small for the holes in which they were in-
serted. He supposed, therefore, that in the experiments of Galvani and Volta,
in which the convulsions of the limbs of animals were produced, a chemical
* The date of the researches of thin philosopher is generally, but erroneously, assigned to the
year 1799.
change was made by the contact of one of these metals with the liquid matter
always found on the parts of the animal body ; and that the immediate cause
of the convulsions was not, as supposed by Galvani, due to animal electricity,
nor, as assumed by Volta, to a current of electricity emanating from the sur-
face of contact of the two metals, but to the decomposition of the fluid upon
the animal substance, and the transition of oxygen from a state of combination
with it to combination with the metal. The electricity produced in the experi-
ments Fabroni ascribed entirely to the chemical changes, it being then known
that chemical processes were generally attended with sensible signs of elec-
tricity. He maintained that the convulsions were chiefly due to the chemical
changes, and not to the electricity incidental to them, which, if it operated at
all, he considered to do so in a secondary way.
The necessary limits of this notice will not allow of a further analysis of the
researches of this philosopher ; but if his original papers be referred to, it will
be seen that he is entitled to the credit of having first distinctly demonstrated
the chemical origin of Voltaic electricity.
In the year 1800, the attention of the scientific world was withdrawn from
the controversy respecting the origin of Galvanic electricity, and all trther
matters of minor importance, and engrossed by one of those vast discoveries
which constitute an epoch in the progress of knowledge, and give a new di-
rection to the sciences. On the 20th of March, 1800, Volta addressed a letter
to Sir Joseph Banks, then president of the Royal Society, in which he an-
nounced to him the discovery of the VOLTAIC PILE, one of the most powerful
instruments for the investigation of the laws of nature, as exhibited in the mu-
tual relations of the constituent parts of matter, which ever did honor to the
science of any age, or any nation.
In order to complete the experimental analysis of the effects of Galvanic
electricity, Volta felt the necessity of collecting it in much greater quantities
than could be obtained in the processes which had then been adopted. Ac-
cording to his theory, when two plates of metal, zinc and copper for example,
were brought into contact, two currents of electric fluid originated at their
common surface, and moved from that point in opposite directions. The posi-
tive fluid passed along the zinc, and the negative along the copper. If the
extremities of the two metals most remote from their mutual contact were con-
nected by an arc of conducting matter, these contrary currents would flow
along this arc, the positive fluid moving from the zinc toward the copper, and
the negative from the copper toward the zinc ; but the intensity of these cur-
rents was supposed to be so feeble that no ordinary electroscope, whatever
might be its sensibility, would be affected by it. In order to bring into opera-
tion in this question those instruments which had been applied to common
electricity, he therefore sought some expedient by which he could combine,
and, as it were, superpose two or more currents, and thus multiply the intensity,
until it should attain such an augmentation as to produce effects analogous to
those which had been obtained by ordinary electricity.
With this object, he conceived the idea of placing alternately, one over the
other, disks of different metals, such as zinc and copper. Let us suppose the
lowest disk to be copper, having a disk of zinc upon it. On this disk of zinc
let a second copper disk be placed, and over that a second disk of zinc, and so
on. According to Volta's theory, currents of electricity would be established
at each surface of contact of the two metals, the positive current running along
the zinc, and the negative along the copper. With the arrangement above
described, there would proceed from the first surface a negative downward, and
a positive upward current ; from the second a positive downward, and a nega-
tive upward current ; from the third a negative downward, and a positive up-
GALVANISM.
wur.l current, and so on : the downward current being negative, and the up-
ward positive from the upper surface of each copper disk, and the upp<>r
current being negative and the downward positive from the lower surface of
such disk. It is evident, therefore, that the downward currents would he al-
ternately positive and negative; and the same would be the case with, the
upward currents. Now, since the surfaces of contact of the metals would be
equal, these currents would have equal intensities, and accordingly each posi-
. live current would neutralize each negative current having the same direction.
( The result would be, that if the lowest and highest disk of the pile were of the
I same metal, all the currents neutralizing each other, the pile would evolve no
electricity whatever; and if they were of different metals, all the downward
currents, except one, would neutralize each other, and that one would be posi-
live. The effect of the pile would therefore be the same as if it consisted of ;
only two disks, one of copper, and the other of zinc.
Volta therefore saw the necessity of adopting some expedient by which all '
the currents in the same direction should be of the same kind ; so that, for ex- 2
ample, all the descending currents should be negative, and all the ascending ,
currents positive. If this could be accomplished, the current issuing from the ;
bottom of the pile would be a negative current as many times more intense £
than one proceeding from a single pair of disks as there were surfaces of con- {
tact supplying currents, and the same would be true of the positive current ';
issuing from the top of the pile. (
To effect this, it was necessary to destroy the Galvanic action at all those sur- |
faces from which descending positive and ascending negative currents would pro- <
ceed ; that is, the lower surfaces of the copper disks and the upper surfaces of the J
zinc disks. But while this was effected, it was also essential thai the progress t
of the descending negative an.d ascending positive currents should still be un-
interrupted. The interposition of any substance which would have no sensible
Galvanic action on either of the metals between each disk of copper and the
disk of zinc immediately below it would attain one of these ends, since the
action of all the surfaces in which ascending negative or descending positive
currents could originate would thus be prevented. But in order to allow the •
free progress of the remaining currents in each direction, such substance must
be a suiliciently free conductor of electricity. Volta selected, as the fittest
means of fulfilling these conditions, disks of wet cloth. They would be free
from any sensible Galvanic action on the metal, and their moisture would give j
them sufficient conducting power.
Having discovered the principles by which this species of electricity can be \
accumulated in quantity and strong currents obtained, he varied its form, and J
contrived the apparatus which is known by the name of La Couronne de Tosses.
This arrangement, which Volta himself most commonly used in his experi-
ments, consisted of a circle of cups filled with warm water, or a solution of
sea-salt. He immersed in each cup a plate of zinc and one of silver, not in
contact, and then established a metallic communication by means of wire be-
tween the zinc of one cup and the silver of the adjacent one. The positive
fluid was found to proceed from the extreme zinc plate, and the negative from
the extreme silver one, and a continuous current was obtained by connecting
these by any conductors of electricity.
Profoundly impressed with the importance of the results likely to arise from
. the application of the powers of the pile in physical inquiries, and doubtless
\ animated by the desire for which he was honorably distinguished to extend all
( possible encouragement and advantage to those engaged in the natural sciences,
( Napoleon, then first consul, and surrounded by the splendor of his southern
> triumphs, invited Volta to visit Paris ; and there, at the Institute, before the
elite of European philosophers, to explain personally his great invention, av.d
expound his views as to its probable uses and powers as an instrument of sci-
entific research. Volta accepted the proffered honor, and, in 1801, attended at
three meetings of the Academy of Sciences, at which he explained his theory
of contact, and developed his views respecting the Voltaic, or, as he called it>
electro-motive, action of different metals upon each other. Among the audience
at these memorable meetings was NAPOLEON himself, and none present ap-
peared to appreciate more justly the vastness of the power which was on that
occasion placed in the hands of the experimental philosopher.
When the report of the committee on the subject was read, the FIRST CONSUL
proposed that the rules of the Academy, which produced some delay in con-
ferring its honors, be suspended, and that the gold medal be immediately
awarded to Volta, as a testimony of the gratitude of the philosophers of France
for his discovery. This proposition being carried by acclamation, the hero of
a hundred fields, who never did things by halves, and who was filled with a
prophetic enthusiasm as to the powers of the pile, ordered two thousand crowns
to be sent to Volta the same day from the public treasury, to defray the ex-
penses of his journey.* He also founded an annual medal, of the value of
three thousand francs, for the best experiment on the electric fluid, and a prize
of sixty thousand francs to him who should give electricity or magnetism, by
his researches, an impulse comparable to that which it received from the dis-
coveries of Franklin and Volta.
The relation in which the Voltaic pile stood in reference to the Leyden jar
and electrical machines now began to be perceived. In the latter apparatus a
great quantity of electricity is accumulated on the surfaces of the jar, and held
there in equilibrium, the positive fluid on one side of the glass, and the nega-
tive on the other. When the communication is made between the two surfaces,
a torrent of the fluid precipitates itself instantaneously along the line of com-
munication, and the electrical equilibrium is re-established in an interval of time
so short as to be inappreciable. A sudden, instantaneous, and violent effect is
produced on whatever bodies may be exposed to the transit of this electric fluid.
On the other hand, the Voltaic pile is a generator of electricity, which supplies
to its opposite poles the two fluids, the positive and the negative electricity, in a
continued, gentle, and regulated current. It discharges it not suddenly or in-
stantaneously, or with uncontrollable and irresistible violence, but with gentle,
moderate, continued, and regulated action. What takes place in the Leyden
jar in an interval so brief as to render observation of its progress, or examina-
tion of its successive effects, impossible, is with the pile spread over as long
an interval as the observer may desire. Besides this, the effects themselves
consequent on the two modes of action are different. That which in mechan-
ical phenomena is effected by a violent blow or concussion, is not more differ-
ent from the effects of a long-continued action of a uniform accelerating force
or a constant pressure, than are the effects of the common electrical discharge
from those of the currents of electricity propagated between the poles of the
pile.
The physiological effects of electricity exhibited under these different forms,
differ in a manner which might be anticipated from these modifications in the
transmission of the electric fluid. If the wires proceeding from the opposite
poles, and conducting the contrary currents of fluid, be taken in the hands, the
sudden and violent shock of the Leyden jar is no longer felt. It is replaced by
a continued convulsion in the arms and shoulders, which does not cease so long
as the wires are held.
• Arago, Eloge de Volta, p. 42.
If a metallic plate, in connexion with the positive pole, be applied to the
i tongue, and another connected with the negative pole to any other part, a strong
' acidulous savor is perceived. If the plate applied to the tongue be connected
} with the negative pole, a strong alkaline savor is felt.
It is not the organs of taste only which are sensible to the influence of this
j instrument. The sense of sight is susceptible of its operation in a manner even
| more wonderful. Let a metallic surface connected with one of the poles be
\ applied to the forehead, the cheek, the nose, the chin, or the throat; and, at
j the same time, let the patient take in his hand the wire connected with the I
' other pole. Immediately a light will be perceived, even though the eyes be
closed, the splendor and appearance of which will vary with the part of the
face in contact with the metallic plate. By similar means, the perception of
sound will be perceived in the ears.
The action of the pile on the animal body after the vital principle is de-
stroyed is so well known, that it is scarcely necessary to mention it here.
The trunk of a decapitated body will rise from its recumbent posture ; the arms
will move and strike objects near them ; the legs will elevate themselves with
a force sufficient to raise considerable weights ; the breast will heave as if
respiration were restored ; and. in fine, all the vital actions will be manifested
with terrific and revolting precision.
In the hands of the entomologist, the pile affords results not less interesting.
The glow-worm, submitted to the electric current, shines with increased splen-
dor ; the grasshopper chirps, as if under the action of a stimulant.*
The physiological action of the pile was strongly suggestive of a mysterious
connexion between the electric fluid and the proximate principle of vitality.
When some of these effects were exhibited to Napoleon, the emperor turned
to Corvisart, his physician, and said, " Docteur, voila 1'image de la vie : la
colonne vertebrale est la pile ; le foie, le pole negatif ; la vessie, le pole posi-
tif." f
The invention of the pile had been scarcely more than hinted at, when that
course of electro-chemical investigations began which soon led to the magnifi-
cent discoveries of Davy, and the series of experimental researches which
have been continued to the present time with results so remarkable by those
who succeeded him. The first four pages only of the letter of Volta to Sir
Joseph Banks were despatched on the 20th of March, 1800 ; and as these
were not produced in public till the receipt of the remainder, the letter was
not read at the Royal Society, or published, until the 26th of June following.
The first portion of the letter, in which was described generally the formation
of the pile, was shown in the latter end of April by Sir Joseph Banks to some
scientific men, and among others to Sir Anthony (then Mr.) Carlisle, who was
\ engaged at the time in certain physiological inquiries. Mr. W. Nicholson, the
< conductor of the scientific journal known as Nicholson's Journal, and Carlisle,
i constructed a pile of seventeen silver half-crown pieces alternated with equal
j disks of copper and cloth soaked in a weak solution of common salt, with which
I on the 30th of April they commenced their experiments. It happened that a
* Eloge, p. 33.
) t This anecdote was told by Chaptel, who was present on the occasion, to Bequerel ; and 1
( ter relates it in the lirst volume of hia work on electricity, published in 1834. The idea
/ tricity is the immediate principle of vitality has occurred to other minds. Sir John Herschel, in Ins (
( Preliminary Discourse published iu the Cabinet Cyclopedia in 1830, without any knowled
( above anecdote, says (p. 343), •• If the brain be an electric pile constantly in action, it may b<
( ceived to discharge itself at regular intervals, when the tension of the electricity developed n
( a certain point, along the nerves which communicate with the heart, and thus to excite the pupation (
( of that organ. This idea is forcibly suggested by the view of that elegant apparatus, the dry pi
\ DC Lur, in which the successive accumulations of electricity are earned ott by a suspended
which is kept by the discharge in a state of regular pulsation for any length of time. A su
; idea occurred to Dr. Artiott, and is mentioned in hia Physics.
/
340
GALVANISM.
drop of water was used to make good the contact of the conducting wire with
a plate to which the electricity was to he transmitted ; Carlisle observed a dis-
engagement of gas in this water, and Nicholson recognised the odor ot' hydro-
gen proceeding from it. In order to observe this effect with more advantage,
a small glass tube, open at both ends, was stopped at one end by a cork, and
being then filled with water was similarly slopped at the other end. Through
both corks pieces of brass wire were inserted, the points of which were ad-
justed at a distance of an inch and three quarters asunder in the water. When
these wires were put in communication with the opposite ends of the pile,
bubbles of gas were evolved from the point of the negative wire, and the end
of the positive wire became tarnished. The gas evolved appeared on examina-
tion to be hydrogen, and the tarnish was found to proceed from the oxydalion
of the positive wire. It was inferred that the process in which these effects
were produced was the decomposition of water. This took place on the 2d
of May, shortly after the receipt of the first portion of Volta's letter.
To ascertain whether the oxydation of the positive wire was an effect inci-
dental to the experiment, or had an influence in producing the decomposition,
Nicholson determined to try the effect of wires formed of metal more difficult
of oxydation. Wires of platinum were accordingly inserted through the corks,
and the experiment repeated. Bubbles of gas were now evolved from both
wires. Two platinum wires were next inserted at the closed ends of two
separate tubes, which, being open at the other ends and filled with water, -vere
inserted in the same vessel of water. Being placed side by side close together,
and the wires being continued to the lower ends of the tubes, so that the dis-
tance between their points was not more than two inches, their upper extremi-
ties were put in connexion with the ends of the pile. Gas was evolved from
the points of both wires, and, ascending through the water, was collected sep-
arately in the two tubes. These gases being examined, proved to be hydrogen
from the negative, and oxygen from the positive wire, nearly in the proportion
known to constitute water.*
Thus was the decomposing power of the pile established within a few weeks
after the first intimation of the invention of that instrument had been received
in England, and before any description of it had been published. It seemed
proper to give these details here, not only on account of the great importance
of the discovery, but because it has been sought to depreciate the merit of it
by ascribing it altogether to chance. It is probably impossible to exclude
chance altogether from such investigations, but in this there Avas as little as is
generally found.
When these experiments became known, Mr. W. Cruickshank, of Woohvich,
repeated them, and obtained similar results ; but observed that when the dis-
tilled water was tinged with litmus, the effects of an acid Avere produced at the
positive, and those of an alkali at the negative wire. Led by this indication,
he tried the effects of the wires on solutions of acetate of lead, sulphate of
copper, and nitrate of silver. In each case he found the metallic base depos-
ited at the negative pole, and the acid manifested at the positive pole. Muri-
ate of ammonia and nitrate of magnesia Avere next decomposed, the acid as be-
fore going to the positive, and the alkali to the negative pole. These experi-
ments of Mr. Cruickshank Avere made as early as June, ISOO.f
In the September following, Mr. Cruickshank published the continuation of
his researches,^ in Avhich he corroborated the results of his former experiments,
showing more generally the tendency of oxygen and the acids in Voltaic de-
composition to collect round the positive wire, and hydrogen, metals, alkalies.
&c., round the negative pole.
* Nicholson's Journal, vol. iv., p. 179. 1800. t Ibid., p. 137. t Ibid., p. 251.
GALVANISM.
• __ '>
The investigations of which the pile became the instrument now began to
') assume an importance which rendered it necessary to give it considerably aug-
> mented power, either by increasing its height or enlarging its component plates.
; In either case, inconveniences were encountered which imposed a practical
? limit on the increase of its power. When the number or magnitude of the
) metallic disks was considerable, the incumbent pressure discharged the liquid
/ from the intermediate disks of cloth or card. The trouble of refilling it when-
ever its use was required, and of wetting the cloth or card, was very great.
Mr. Cruickshank, adopting the principle of Volta's couronne des lasses, pro-
posed, as a more convenient form for the apparatus, an arrangement consisting
of a trough of baked wood, which is a non-conductor of electricity, divided by
parallel partitions into a series of cells. Into these cells the liquid to be in-
terposed between the successive pairs of metallic plates was poured. A se-
ries of rectangular plates of metal, alternately zinc and copper, were arranged
so as to be parallel to each other, and at such a distance as to allow the pnrti-
> tions of the trough to pass between each pair of plates. This modification
' rendered the Voltaic apparatus capable of having its power increased without
practical limit.
While these investigations were proceeding, Ritter, afterward so distin-
guished for his experimental researches, but then young and unknown, made
various experiments at Jena on the effects of the pile ; and, apparently with-
out knowing what had been done in England, discovered this property of de-
composing water and saline compounds, and of collecting oxygen and the acids
at the positive, and hydrogen and the bases at the negative pole. He also
showed that the decomposing power in the case of water could be transmitted
through sulphuric acid, the oxygen being evolved from a portion of water on
one side of the acid, while the hydrogen was produced from another separate
portion of water on the other side of it.*
When the chemical powers of the pile became known in England, Sir
Humphry (then Mr.) Davy was commencing those labors in chemical science
which subsequently surrounded his name with so much lustre, and left traces
of his genius in the history of scientific discovery which must remain as long
as the knowledge of the laws of nature is valued by mankind. The circum-
stance attending the decompositions effected between the poles of the pile
which caused the greatest surprise, was the production of one element of the
compound at one pole, and the other element at the other pole, without any
discoverable transfer of either of the disengaged elements between the wires.
If the decomposition was conceived to take place at the positive wire, the con-
stituent appearing at the negative wire must be presumed to travel through the
fluid in the separated state from the positive to the negative point ; and if it
was conceived to take place at the negative wire, a similar transfer must be
imagined in the opposite direction. Thus, if water be decomposed, and the
decomposition be conceived to proceed at the positive wire where the oxygen
is visibly evolved, the hydrogen from which that oxygen is separated must be
supposed to travel through the water to the negative wire, and only to become
visible when it meets the point of that wire ; and if, on the other hand, the de-
composition be imagined to take place at the negative wire where the hydro-
gen is visibly evolved, the oxygen must be supposed to pass invisibly through
the water to the point of the positive wire, and there become visible. But
what appeared still more unaccountable was, that in the experiment of Ritter
; ;; would seem that one or other of the elements of the water must have passed
through the intervening sulphuric acid. So impossible did such an invisible
* Nicholson's Journal, vol. iv., p- 511.
342 GALVANISM.
! transfer appear to Ritter, that at that time he regarded his experiment as pro-
j ving that one portion of the water acted on was wholly converted into oxygen,
> and the other portion into hydrogen.*
This point was the first to attract the attention of Davy, and it occurred to
him to try if decomposition could be produced in quantities of water contained
in separate vessels united by a conducting substance, placing the positive wire
in one vessel and the negative in the other. For this purpose, the positive and
negative wires were immersed in two separate glasses of pure water. So long
as the glasses remained unconnected, no effect was produced ; but when Davy
put a finger of the right hand in one glass and of the left hand in the other,
decomposition was immediately manifested. The same experiment was after-
ward repeated, making the communication between the two glasses by a chain
of three persons. If any material principle passed between the wires in these
cases, it must have been transmitted through the bodies of the persons forming
the line of communication between the glasses.
The use of the living animal body as a line of communication being incon-
venient where experiments of long continuance were desired, Davy substituted
fresh muscular animal fibre, the conducting power of which, though inferior to
that of the living animal, was sufficient. When the two glasses were con-
nected by this substance, decomposition accordingly went on as before, but
more slowly.
To ascertain whether metallic communication between the liquid decompo-
sed and the pile was essential, -he now placed lines of muscular fibre between
the ends of the pile and the glasses of water respectively, and at the same
time connected the two glasses with each other by means of a metallic wire.
He was surprised to find oxygen evolved in the negative, and hydrogen in the
positive glass, contrary to what had occurred when the pile was connected
with the glasses by wires. In none of these cases did he observe the disen-
gagement of gas either from the muscular fibre or from the living hand immer-
sed in the water.
In October, 1800, after many experiments on the chemical effects of the
pile, Davy commenced an investigation of the relation which its power had to
the chemical action of the liquid conductor on the more oxydable (*" its metal-
lic elements. The influence of chemical decomposition in evolving the Voltaic
electricity originally maintained by Fabroni, was again brought under inquiry
by Colonel Haldane. Davy showed that at common temperatures zinc, con-
nected with silver, suffers no oxydation in water which is well purged of air
and free from acids ; and that with such water as a liquid conductor, the pile
is incapable of evolving any quantity of electricity which can be rendered sen-
sible either by the shock or by the decomposition of water ; but that if the
water used as a liquid conductor hold in combination oxygen or acid, then oxy-
dation of the zinc takes place, and electricity is sensibly evolved. In fine, he
concluded that the power of the pile appeared to be, in great measure, propor-
tional to the power of the liquid between the plates to oxydate the zinc.f
He inferred from these results that although the exact i»ode of operation
could not be accounted for, the oxydation of the zinc in the pile, and the chem-
ical changes connected with it, were somehow the cause of its electrical effects.
To ascertain whether a liquid solution capable of conducting the electric cur
rent between the positive and negative wires of a Voltaic pile, but not capable
of producing any chemical action on its metallic elements, would, when used
between its plates, evolve electricity, Davy constructed a pile in which the li-
quid was a solution of sulphuret of strontia. When the current from an active
pile was transmitted through the liquid, the shock was as sensible as if the
* Nicholson's Journal, vol. iv., p. 512. t Nicholson's Journal, vol. iv., p. 337.
343
communication had been made through water ; but, on the other hand, solu-
tions of the sulphurets were incapable of acting chemically on the zinc. If,
therefore, chemical action on the zinc be a necessary condition to ensure trie
activity of the pile, such an arrangement must be inactive. Twenty-five pairs
of silver and zinc plates, erected with cloths moistened in solution of sulphuret
of strontia, produced no sensible action, though the moment the sides of the
pile were moistened with nitrous acid, the ends gave shocks as powerful as
those of a similar pile constructed in the usual manner.
The next question brought to the test of experiment was, whether the chem-
ical action which takes place between the liquid and the plates of the pile is
of the same kind as that which is manifested when water is decomposed by
its extreme wires ; that is, whether, when the oxygen is freed upon the surface of
the zinc, the remaining constituent of the solution decomposed is also liberated at
the surface of the zinc, as in ordinary oxydation ; or is transmitted invisibly through
the fluid to the surface of the silver, and there deposited, or otherwise liberated,
as in the decomposition between the positive and negative wires. An arrange-
ment of zinc and copper plates, in the form of the couronne des tosses, was
formed, and charged with spring water. The general result of these experi-
ments showed that the hydrogen liberated by the zinc was manifested not at the
zinc, but at the silver surface ; and, therefore, that the action in the cells is
similar to the decomposition of water at the extreme wires of the pile. The
phenomena were, however, rendered less decisive of the question by the mod-
ifications produced by the azote of the common air combined with the water,
and also by saline matter which it held in solution, effects which were then
imperfectly understood.
The inventor of the pile maintained that, among the metals, those which
held the extreme places in the scale of electro-motive power were silver and
zinc ; and that, consequently, these metals, paired in a pile, would be more
powerful, coEteris paribus, than any other. But as he also showed that pure
charcoal was a good conductor of the electric current, and that the electro-
motive virtue depended on the different conducting powers of the metallic ele-
ments, it was consistent with analogy that charcoal, combined with another
substance of different conducting power, would produce Voltaic action. Dr.
Wells accordingly showed that a combination of charcoal and zinc produced
sensible convulsions in the frog ; and Davy, adopting this principle, constructed
a couronne des tasses, consisting of a series of eight glasses, with small pieces
of well-burned charcoal connected with zinc by pieces of silver wire, using a
solution of red sulphate of iron as the liquid conductor. This series gave
sensible shocks, and rapidly decomposed water. Compared with an equal and
similar series of silver and zinc, its effects were much stronger. Hence he
inferred that charcoal and zinc formed a combination equal, if not superior, to
any of the metals.
Volta was understood to refer the electro-motive power of the metallic ele-
ments of the pile to the difference of their powers as conductors of electricity.
The experiments of Davy induced him to connect the electro-motive power
with the amount of chemical action on the more oxydable metal. These two
prii.dples might, nevertheless, be compatible, if it could be shown that the
oxydaiion was dependant on, and proportional to, the difference of conducting
power of the metals. To test this, it was only necessary to construct a pile
with metals of nearly equal conducting power. With this view, Davy con-
structed a pile with gold and silver plates, these metals being supposed to dif-
fer very little in their power of conducting electricity, interposing disks of cloth
moistened with dilute nitric acid. Voltaic action was produced. A similar
pile, formed of plates of silver and copper, and a solution of nitrate of mercury,
344
GALVANISM.
acted powerfully. The conducting powers of these several metals were then
considered as nearly equa-L*
• In considering the various arrangements and combinations in which Voltaic
action had been manifested, Davy observed, as a common character, that, in
every case, one of the two metallic elements was oxydated, and the other not.
Did the production of the electric current, then, depend merely on the pres-
ence of two metallic surfaces, one undergoing oxydation, separated by a con-
ductor of electricity ] and, if so, might not a Voltaic arrangement be made by
one metal only, if its opposite surfaces were placed in contact with two differ-
ent liquids, one of which would oxydate it, and the other transmit electricity
without producing oxydation ? To reduce this to the test of experiment with
a. single metallic plate would have been easy ; but in constituting a series of
pile, the two liquids, the oxydating and the non-oxydating, must be in contact,
and subject to intermixture. To overcome this difficulty, different expedients
were resorted to, with more or less success ; but the most convenient and
effectual method of attaining the desired end was suggested to Davy by Count
Rumford. Let an oblong trough be formed, similar to that suggested by
Cruickshank, as a substitute for the pile ; and let grooves be made in it such
as to allow of the insertion of a number of plates, by which the trough may be
divided into a series of water-tight cells. Let plates of the metal of which
the apparatus is to be constructed be made to fit these grooves ; and let as
many plates of glass or other non-conducting material, of the same form and
magnitude, be provided. Let the metallic plates be inserted in alternate
grooves of the trough, and the glass plates in the intermediate grooves, so as
to divide the trough into a succession of separate cells, each cell having on
one side metal, and on the other glass. Let such an arrangement be repre-
sented in fig. 1, where the metallic plates are represented at M, the interme-
Fig. i.
d'iate plates being glass. Let the alternate cells 0 be filled with the oxyda-
ting liquid, and the intermediate cells L with the liquid which conducts
without oxydating. Let slips of moistened cloth be hung over the edge of
each of the glass tubes, so that its ends shall dip into the liquids in the ad-
jacent cells. This cloth, or rather the liquid it imbibes, will conduct the elec-
tric current from cell to cell, without permitting the intermixture of the liquids.
In the first arrangements made on this principle, the most oxydable metals,
such as zinc, tin, and some others, were tried. The oxydating liquid O was
dilute nitric acid, and the liquid L was water. In a combination consisting of
twenty plates of metal, sensible but weak effects were produced on the organs
of sense, and water was decomposed slowly by wires from the extremities.
The wire from the end toward which the oxydating surfaces were directed
evolved hydrogen, and the other oxygen.
To determine whether the evolution of the electric current was dependant
on the production of oxydation, or would attend other chemical effects produci-
ble by the action of substances in solution upon metal, the oxydating liquid
was now replaced by solutious of the sulphurets, and metallic plates were se-
lected on which these solutions would exert a chemical action. Silver, copp'.-r,
and lead, were tried in this way. Solution 01 suiphuret of potash was used in
The relative conducting power of the metals has not even yet been satisfactorily established.
GALVANISM.
the cells O, and pure water in L. A series of eight metallic plates produced
•sensible effects. Copper was the most active of the metals tried, and lead the
least so. In thJse cases, the terminal wires produced, in the usual manner,
the d<?compositi»i of water, the wire from which hydrogen was evolved being
that which was connected with the end of the series to which the surfaces of
ihe metal not chemically acted on were presented.
It will be observed that in this case the direction of the electric current
relatively to the surfaces of the metallic plates was the reverse of the former.
When oxydation was produced, the oxydating sides of the plates looked toward
the negative end of the series. Comparing these two effects, Davy was led
by analogy to suspect that if the cells O were filled with an oxydating solu-
tion, while the cells L were filled with a solution of sulphuret, or any other
which would produce a like chemical action, the combined effect of the cur-
rents proceeding from the two distinct chemical processes would be obtained.
This was accordingly tried, and the results were as foreseen. The acid solu-
tion was placed in the cells O, and the sulphuret in the cells L. A series,
consisting of three plates of copper or silver, arranged in this way, produced
sensible effects ; and twelve or thirteen decomposed water rapidly. The
oxydating sides of the metal looked to the negative end of the series.
As it appeared from former experiments the charcoal possessed, as a Voltaic
agent, the same properties as the metals, the next step in this course of ex-
periments was naturally to try whether a Voltaic arrangement could not be
constructed without any metallic element, by substituting charcoal for the me-
tallic*plates in the series above described. This was accomplished by means
of an arrangement in the form of the couronne des tosses. Pieces of charcoal,
made from very dense wood, were formed into arcs ; and the liquids O and L
were arranged in alternate glasses, as represented in fig. 2. The charcoal
arcs C were placed so as to have one end immersed in each liquid, the inter-
mediate glasses being connected by slips of bibulous paper P. When the
liquid O was dilute acid, and L water, a series consisting of twenty pieces of
charcoal gave sensible shocks, and decomposed water. This arrangement
also acted, and with increased intensity, when the liquid O was sulphuric acid, }
and L was solution of sulphuret of potash.
The connexion of chemical change with the production of electricity in the
pile, was too obvious not to attract the attention of other philosophers. Pepys
in England, and MM. Biot and Frederic Cuvier in France, investigated the
effect produced by the pile on the atmosphere in which it was placed. The
former placed the pile in an atmosphere of oxygen, and found that in the
course of a night 200 cubic inches of the gas had been absorbed. In an at-
mosphere of azote the pile had no action. MM. Biot and Cuvier also observed
5 the quantity of oxygen absorbed, and inferred from their experiments that
I " although, strictly speaking, the evolution of electricity in the pile was pro-
) duced by oxydation, the share which this had in producing the effects of the
\ instrument bore no comparison with that which was due to the contact of the
metals, the extremity of the series being in communication with the ground."
Dr. Wollaston and Gautherot, on the other hand, reproduced the principle
) advanced by Fabroni and Creve. WoUaston maintained that chemical action
{
346 GALVANISM.
was not only the source of the electricity of the pile, but also of the common
electrical machine. He showed that by conveying the electricity of the ma-
chine to gold wires terminated in extremely fine points the decomposition of
water could be effected, and that the phenomenon was the same as when the
decomposition was effected by Voltaic wires. He maintained that the friction
of the rubber was attended with oxydation, and showed that the machine waj
ineffective in an atmosphere of dry hydrogen, or any ether gas in which chem-
ical action was not produced.
If an oblono; slip of wet paper have its extremities in contact with the poles
of a Voltaic pile, each half of the slip will be electrified ; that which is in con-
tact with the positive pole will be positively electrified, and that which is in
contact with the negative pole will be negatively electrified. If it be removed
from contact with the pile by a rod of glass, or other non-conductor, its electric
state will continue. This means of producing electrical polarity was observed
by Volta, and about the same time by Erhman.
This fact suggested to Ritter the idea of his secondary pile, which consisted
of a series of disks of a single metal alternated with cloth or card, moistenea
in a liquid by which the metal would not be affected chemically. If such &,
pile have its extremities put in connexion by conducting substances with tht
poles of an insulated Voltaic pile, it will receive a charge of electricity in u
manner similar to the band of wet paper, one half taking a positive and tht,
other a negative charge ; and after its connexion with the primary pile hd*.
been broken, it will retain the charge it has thus received. The secondary
pile, while it retains its charge, produces the same physiological and cheftnica*
effects as the Voltaic apparatus.
The polarity which the band of wet paper and the secondary pile acquit
by their temporary contact with the ends of a Voltaic apparatus, is a coiibe
quence of their imperfect conducting power. The electricity of each specie*
appears to force its way through the imperfect conductor till the two opposite
currents meet in the centre.
At the time of the discovery of the secondary piles, it was known that a piect-
of metallic wire, the ends of which had been placed in contact with the poles
of a Voltaic pile, does not instantly recover its natural state when its contact
with the pile is broken.
From the experiments of Davy and others, it appeared that if a communica-
tion was made between the poles of an insulated pile and two glasses of water,
so that the water in the one would be charged with positive, and the other
with negative electricity, a metallic wire connecting the two portions of water
would evolve oxygen gas at one point, and hydrogen at the other. If, under
such circumstances, the connexion of the glasses with the pile be suddenly
broken, the action of the wire will nevertheless continue for some time, but its
effects will be reversed ; the point which before disengaged hydrogen will
now disengage oxygen, and vice versa. It appears, therefore, that, the sudden
suspension of the action of the pile has the effect of reversing the direction of
the electric current which passes through the wire.*
The continuance of the electric state of a wire which had been used to con- /
nect the poles of a pile after its separation from the pile was also demonstrated \
by Oersted, who showed its effect on the organs of a frog.f The same effect ,
was produced by a wire through which the current of a powerful electrical
machine had been transmitted
From the chemical effects of the pile, Davy turned his attention to its calor- [
ific powers. The means of experimental investigation placed at his disposal j
)
* Histoire de Galvanism de Sue, torn, iii., p. 341.
t Journ. de Opim. de Van-Mons, No. iv., p. &8.
GALVANISM. 347
were enlarged by the apparatus of the laboratory of the Royal Institution,
which was now under his direction. The Voltaic apparatus consisted of
> a scries of 150 pairs of four-inch plates of zinc and copper, and a series
of 50 pairs of zinc and silver of the same magnitude. The plates were
cemented into four troughs of wood, according to the method proposed by
Cruickshank. Another apparatus was provided, consisting of a series of
twenty pairs of thirteen-inch plates of zinc and copper.
With the batteries of the smaller plates he repeated some of the experiments
on the production of the spark, and the combustion of the metals which had
already been made. When the poles consisted of two knobs of brass, the
spark which attended the discharge was of dazzling brightness, and one eighth
of an inch in apparent diameter. Between pieces of charcoal it had a vivid
whiteness, and the charcoal remained red-hot for some time after the contact
was broken, and threw off bright coruscations. The current passing through
steel wire jyotn of an inch in diameter, rendered it white-hot, and caused it
to burn with great splendor. Gold, silver, copper, tin, lead, and zinc, were
also burnt. Platinum in thin slips was rendered white-hot and fused.
Fourcroy, Vauquefin, and Thenard, had investigated the different effects pro-
duced by enlarging the plates of a battery, and by increasing their number.
They demonstrated that the power of the apparatus to heat and ignite metallic
substances was augmented by enlarging the plates, without increasing their
number ; but that no increase of power to decompose water, or to produce the
shock, ensued. The calorific power, therefore, appeared to depend, cattris pa-
ribus, on the magnitude of the plates, while the chemical and physiological
power depended on their number.
The battery of thirteen-inch plates was tried successively with pure water,
a solution of common salt, and dilute nitric acid. With water its effects were
feeble, with the solution of salt they were much more considerable, and were
still more energetic with nitric acid. With the last, three inches of iron wire,
yi^th of an inch in diameter, were rendered white hot, and two inches of the
same wire were fused. The action of the water, feeble as it was, was as-
cribed to the air and saline matter it held in solution ; and it was judged from
analogy that water perfectly purged of air and free from all saline substances,
would have no Voltaic action. A pile of thirty-six pairs of five-inch plates
lost its activity in an atmosphere of azote and hydrogen in about two days ;
and its power was constantly restored by common air, and rendered more in-
tense by oxygen gas.
When two pieces of well-burnt charcoal, or a piece of charcoal and a me-
tallic wire, are connected with the apparatus an', immersed in water, on com-
pleting the circuit, gas was abundantly evolved, and the points of the charcoal
appeared red hot for some time after the contact was made. Sparks were also
produced by means of charcoal points immersed in concentrated nitre and sul-
phuric acids. When two charcoal points acted in water, the gaseous products
consisted of one eighth carbonic acid, one eighth oxygen, and one eighth in-
flammable gas, apparently hydrogen. The gases produced by a similar process
/ from alcohol, ether, and dilute sulphuric acid, were also a mixture of oxygen
and hydrogen. In all these cases it appeared that the gases proceeded
chiefly from the decomposition of the water contained in the several solutions.
The effects of the ignition of charcoal in muriatic acid confined over mer-
cury, were next tried. The charcoal being kept white hot for nearly two hours,
the gas was very little reduced in volume, and the charcoal was not sensibly [
consumed. When the gas was examined, three fourths of it were absorbed by
water, and the remainder was inflammable.*
* Davy's Works, vol. ii.( p. 214. London, 1839.
U
J 348 GALVANISM.
$ Of fhe theories proposed at this early period of the experimental inquiry to
/ explain chemical decomposition by the Voltaic apparatus, that of Grotthus was
the earliest and most plausible. To simplify the view of this theory, we shall
take as an example of its application the decomposition of water. Each mo-
lecule of water being composed of a molecule of oxygen and a molecule of
hydrogen, their natural electricities are in equilibrium when not exposed to any
disturbing force, each possessing equal quantities of the positive and negative
fluids. The electricity of the positive wire acting by induction, on the natural
electricities of the contiguous molecule of water, attracts the negative and re-
pels the positive fluid. It is further assumed in this theory, that oxygen has a
natural attraction for negative, and hydrogen for positive electricity ; therefore
the positive wire in attracting the negative fluid of the contiguous molecule of
water, and repelling its positive fluid, attracts its constituent molecule of oxy-
gen, and repels its molecule of hydrogen. The particle of water, therefore,
places itself with its oxygen next the positive wire, and its hydrogen on the
opposite side. The positive electricity of the first particle of water thus accu-
mulated on its hydrogen molecule, produces the same action on the succeeding
molecule of water as the wire did upon the first molecule ; and a similar ar-
rangement of the second molecule of water is effected. This second molecule
acts in like manner on the third, and so on. All the particles of water between
the positive and negative wires thus assume a polar arrangement, and have
their natural electricities decomposed ; the negative poles and oxygen molecules
looking toward the positive wire, and the positive poles and hydrogen mole-
cules looking toward the negative wire. The attraction of the positive wire
now separates the oxygen molecule of the contiguous particle of water from
its hydrogen molecule, neutralizes its negative electricity, and either dismisses
it in the gaseous form, or combines with it, according to the degree of the af-
finity of the metal of the wire for oxygen. The hydrogen molecule thus liber-
ated effects in like manner the decomposition of the second particle of water,
combining with its oxygen, and thus again forming water and dismissing its
hydrogen. The latter acts in the same manner on the next particle of water,
and so on. Thus, a series of decompositions and recompositions are supposed
to be carried on through the fluid, until the process reaches the particle of wa-
ter contiguous to the negative wire, and the molecule of hydrogen there disen-
gaged gives up its positive electricity, by which an equal portion of negative
electricity proceeding from the wire is neutralized, and the molecule of hydro-
gen escapes in the gaseous form. It is equally compatible with this theory to
suppose the series of decompositions and recompositions to commence at the
negative and terminate at the positive wire, or to commence simultaneously at
both, and terminate at any intermediate point by the union of the last molecule
of oxygen disengaged in the one series with the last molecule of hydrogen
disengaged in the other.
Grotthus illustrated this ingenious hypothesis by comparing the supposed
phenomena with the mechanical effects produced when a number of elastic
balls — ivory balls for example — being suspended so that their centres shall be in
the same straight line, and their surfaces mutually touch, either cf the extreme
balls of the series being raised and let fall against the adjacent ons. the effect
is propagated through the series, and the last ball alone recoils in consequence
of the impact ; and although the action and reaction are suffered by each ball
of the series, and each is ins'rumental in transmitting the effect, no visible
change takes place in any ball except the last, and the effect is continued by
the alternate action of the extreme balls until the motion is gradually stopped
by the resistance of the air, and other external causes.
The experiments of Davy, which have been a»'eriy r?;nticned, •ve'-e
GALVANISM. 349
the prelude to a brilliant series of discoveries, the commencement of which
burst upon the scientific world in his Bakerian Lecture for the year 1800. As
soon as the spendid results detailed in that paper became known in Franco,
the members of the Institute, rising superior to the feelings of naiional ani-
mosity which at that time unhappily prevailed, unanimously conferred upon its
distinguished author the prize which had been established by Napoleon for the
best experiments on Voltaic electricity.*
The genius, address, and perseverance of him whose vocation is to investi-
gate the laws of nature, are not always confined to the grateful labor of devel-
oping truths. The extirpation of error is a task which, while it demands the
exercise of equally exalted powers, is never rewarded by that eclat which sur-
rounds the discovery of natural harmonies before unobserved and unsuspected.
In the commencement of the series of researches now referred to, Davy found
it necessary to clear from his path certain difficulties, juid, as he rightly con-
ceived, errors, by which his progress was obstructed.
When the decomposing powers of -the pile were first exhibited, the excite-
ment attending a discovery so unlocked for prevented the details of the experi-
ments from receiving all the attention to which they were entitled. When the
circumstances attending the decomposition of water by the Voltaic wires were
submitted to closer examination, it was found that indications of the presence
of an acid always existed at the pole where oxygen was evolved, and those of
an alkali at the other pole. In cases where the water submitted to decomposi-
tion might be supposed to hold saline matter in solution, such effects would
create no surprise; but they were unequivocally manifested when the water
used was distilled, and when there was every reason to think it chemically
pure. Mr. Cruickshank explained this, by supposing the acid to be nitrous
acid, proceeding from the combination of the azote of the common air held in
solution by the water with the oxygen evolved at the positive wire ; and the
alkali to be ammonia, proceeding from the combination of the same principle
with the hydrogen evolved at the negative wire. Desormes maintained that
the acid was muriatic ; and Brugnatelli that it was an acid sui generis, produ-
ced by the combination of positive electricity with one of the constituents of
water, and called it electric acid. Some maintained that the constituents of the
acid and alkali came over from the liquid used in the Voltaic apparatus in some
undiscovered manner along the wires, and was thus deposited in the water ;
and others held that it was generated out of the elements of the water by Vol-
taic action. An article was published in the " Philosophical Magazine," f by
f
/ * It is stated in the Memoirs of Davy by Dr. Paris (p. 168), that the prize given to Davy was the
^ annual medal, worth 3,000 francs, which was designed as a reward for the best experiments in elec-
/ tricky which should be made in each year. The same statement is made in a note by the editor in
( the fifth volume of Davy's Works (p. 56), edited by his brother, Dr. John Davy : " The minor prize
( af 3.000 francs, founded by Napoleon when first consul, for the most important result in electrical
( research during each year, •was awarded by the Institute to the author for this paper: the principal
< prize of 60,000 francs, of which the preceding was only the interest, in the opinion of the best
judges was rather due to him, as it was proposed to be given ' a celui, qui parses experiences et
} ses decouvertes, fera i faire a 1'electricile et au galvanisme un pas comparable a cela qu'ont fait
faire a ces sciences Franklin et Volta.' Thus the writer in the Quarterly Review already referred
'• .'j remarks. It was only questioned by those who were capable of appreciating its importance,
• \vl.euier thej acted with strict impartiality in assigning to him the annual interest only, when he
£ appeared to have a fair claim to the principal.' ''
6a the other hand, the French writers on electricity claim the merit of having given Davy the
:. ete promis par Napol&on a 1'auteur des plus grandes decouvertes en felectricite, comparables a celle
( de Volta et de Galvani." Whether Davy received the bigherorthe lower prize (we believe it
was the lo\ver), ii is evident that the French scientific authorities now think he was entitled to the ,
former.
t Vol. xxi., p. 279.
350
GALVANISM.
a Mr. Peel, of Cambridge, containing an account of an experiment in which >
the water that remained, after a large portion had been decomposed by the pile, I
yielded on evaporation muriate of soda, although the water used in the experi-
ment had been distilled with every precaution necessary to free it from impu-
rities. On inquiry being made at Cambridge, no person corresponding with
the name and address of the professed author cou>d be found ; and the state-
ment was concluded to be a mere attempt to practise on the credulity of the
scientific world, when the surprise was revived by the publication of experi-
ments actually made by Professor Pacchiomf of Pisa, in which the same re-
sult was attained as was stated in the pretended Cambridge experiment. Syl-
vester being led to the same conclusion, ascribed the supposed effects, in
common with Pacchioni, to the oxydation of hydrogen, on the one hand in a
higher, and on the other in a lower degree than that which forms water.
Such were the confusion and obscurity in which the community of science
was involved on the subject of the Voltaic decomposition of water, when the
question was taken up by Davy. In common with others, he had observed at
an early period the presence of an acid and alkali in water under the process
of decomposition ; but states, that, so early as 1800, he concluded from his ex-
periments that the acid proceeded from the animal and vegetable substances
which he employed, and that the alkali arose from the corrosion of the glass
vessels in which the experiment was conducted. Similar inferences were
made by the Galvanic Society of Paris, by MM. Biot and Thenard, and by Dr.
Wollaston ; the last of whom removed one of the sources of these disturbing
elements by the happy expedient of connecting the positive and negative por-
tions of water by a piece of well-washed asbestos.
The investigation now undertaken by Davy was commenced by decompo-
sing distilled water in two small cups of agate, P N (fig. 3), connected by a
Pig. 3.
piece of white transparent amianthus, A. The wires of the Voltaic battery of
160 pairs of four-inch plates were connected with the water, the positive wiie
being immersed in the cup P, and the negative wire in N. After the process
had been continued for forty-eight hours, the water in the cup P was found to
redden litmus paper, and turmeric paper was affected by the water in N. It
appeared, therefore, and further experiment confirmed the indication, that acid
was present in the positive water, and alkali in the negative.
t Vol. xxii., p. 179.
J
GALVANISM. 35]
This result, after all the precautions which had been taken, was quite unex-
pected, and, as may be imagined, gave not a little surprise to the experimenter.
Still he did not for a moment entertain any of the speculations of the genera-
tion of these substances in the water. His next step was to repeat the exper-
iment with glass instead of agate cups, using the same quantities of the same
water, and exposing them for the same time to the action of the same battery.
He argued, that if the cause lay in the water, the effects would be the same ;
but that if the cup.* had any share in producing them, they might be expected
to be different. The result confirmed his anticipation. The alkali was pro-
duced in the cup N in quantity twenty times as great as with the agate cups,
but there was no trace of the acid. The experiments were then repeated sev-
eral times with the agate cups, when the acid and alkali reappeared in quanti-
ties, which, when compared with each other and with the result of the experi-
ment with glass cu[.s, left no doubt that the agate cups themselves had been
the chief if not the only source of the acid, and, in a considerable degree, of
the alkali also. Still it was impossible to ascribe the effects altogether to the
material of the cups ; and he was impressed with the suspicion that the writer
itself, notwithstanding its careful distillation, must have held more or less alka-
line matter in solution. It was known that the usual tests would fail to indi-
cate the presence of alkaline impurities when their proportion in water was
under a certain limit ; and the New river water, which he used, contained an-
imal and vegetable impurities, which might furnish neutral salts capable of be-
»ng carried over in the process of distillation.
The agate cups were now replaced by two conical cups of pure gold (fig. 4),
Fig. 4.
each containing about twenty-five grains of water. Distilled water in these
was exposed to the action of a battery of 100 pairs of six-inch plate% Ih ten
minutes indications of acid and alkali were formed in the cups D and N re-
spectively. The process was continued for fourteen hours, during the whole
of which time the acid increased in the cup D. The same increase was not,
however, observed in the alkali in the cup N ; on the contrary, it reached its
maximum state in a short time, and continued without increase afterward. On
heating the cup N, the alkali diminished, but could not be altogether dismissed.
These experiments being repeated with similar results, it became apparent
that the source of the acid and alkali must exist in the water itself, and must
either have arisen from saline matter remaining in solution in the water after
distillation, or have been produced by the azote, which exists in minute por-
? lions in all water exposed to the air. The latter supposition would not be in-
S compatible with the circumstance of the alkali speedily attaining & maximum,
? since the continued absorption of azote from the atmosphere by the water would
i be stopped when the latter would become charged with hydrogen.
The former supposition was adopted, and it was determined to submit the
) water which had been used in the last experiments to slow redistillation. A
) 352 GALVANISM.
quart of this water was accordingly evaporated in a silver still at a terr. . : -•-.- '
ture below 140°, and a saline residuum teas obtained weighing seven tenth c \
a grain.
The gold cups were now again filled with the water thus purified, ai.d ?,;
posed to the Voltaic action. After two hours the cup N failed to show tri :
alkaline efi'ect on turmeric paper. By very minute observation, its effec4: c -\ •{
tin- more delicate test of litmus was perceivable ; but this disappeared by the
application of heat, and was, therefore, ascribed to ammonia produced by the
combination of the small quantity of azote contained in the water with the
nascent hydrogen.
Finally, in order to insulate the results from the disturbing effects of the sur-
rounding atmosphere, the gold cups containing the purified water were placed
under the receiver of an air-pump, which was exhausted until the gauge stood
at half an inch. Hydrogen gas was then introduced under the receiver, which,
mixed with the very minute portion of atmospheric air which had remained,
was again withdrawn by the pump. Pure hydrogen gas was now once more
introduced around the cups, which being placed in connexion with the Voltaic
apparatus, were suffered to remain under its action for twenty-four hours, at the
end of which time neither of the portions of the water altered in the slightest
degree the tint of litmus.
Thus were dispelled the speculations on the power of electricity to generate
new principles in water ; and by eliminating the disturbing action of other
causes, the decomposing- power of the pile upon a binary compound was pre-
sented in a manner fitted for theoretical investigation.
If chance occasionally deprives the philosopher of the merit of discovery by
throwing facts under his feet, an ample field for the exercise of his sagacity
remains in the due appreciation of the innumerable effects which are incidental
to his experimental researches ; to seize which as they arise, to pursue them
through their consequences, to strip them of the Protean disguises which they
borrow from other phenomena with which they become related, to expand them
by comparison and generalization into comprehensive natural laws, is the prov-
ince of the highest powers of philosophical inquiry. Never was this felicitous
instinct more conspicuous than in the mind of Davy. No effect, however mi-
nute or accidental it might apparently be, presenting itself in his experiments,
escaped his vigilance, if it offered the least clue to further discovery. In the
course of the experiments just noticed, he found himself embarrassed by the
disturbing action of the Voltaic wires on the material of the vessels containing
the liquid, which was the immediate object of his attention. One material
after another was put aside to get rid of this effect ; but ihe fact was not over-
looked or forgotten. It proved the germ of a vast discovery.
The negative wire effected a partial decomposition of the glass and agate
cups, and brought a portion of their constituents into solution in the water con-
tained in them. Might not a power, which thus subdued affinities so stubborn
as those which produce the aggregation of substances so insoluble as agate and
glass, be brought to bear on other similar bodies, and perchance resolve into
their components substances now considered simple and elementary? As a
first trial of the decomposition of insoluble or difficultly-soluble bodies, cups
were formed of wax, resin, marble, argillaceous schist from Cornwall, serpen-
tine from the Lizard, and graywacke. Being filled with purified water* in the
same manner as in the experiments above described, decomposition was in all
cases effected and saline matter evolved.
Pursuing this investigation, he successively decomposed by the same pro-
* By purified water in all the following experiments is to be understood water rendered chemi- )
cally pure by the processes above described.
f
GALVANISM. 353
the substance to be submitted to Voltaic action. Let them each be filled with
purified water, and connected by asbestos. If A be connected with the posi-
tive and S with the negative wire, it was expected that any acid constituent
which may be in the substance of which S is formed would pass into A, which
would become an acid solution, and appear by the application of the usual
tests. If, on the other hand, A be connected with the negative and S with the
positive wire, any alkali which may be in the substance of which S is formed
was expected to pass into A, and to be manifested there by the common alka-
line tests.
In the first case in which his method was tried, the cup S was formed of
sulphate of lime. The cup A was connected with the negative and S with the
positive wire. With a battery of 100 pair of plates, the water in A was in
about four hours converted into a strong solution of lime, and the liquid in S
was converted into sulphuric acid. When the cup A received the positive and
S the negative wire, the effects were reversed. In that case, the water in A
became sulphuric acid, and a solution of lime was found in S.
Other saline cups were submitted to the same process with like results ; the
water in the positive cup always receiving acid, and that in the negative cup
alkali.
Two cups of glass were connected with the poles of the battery. One was
filled with distilled water, and the other with a saline solution. In every case
as
cess sulphate of lime, sulphate of strontia, fluate of lime, sulphate of baryta,
and other insoluble salts, and in each case obtained the acid in the positive
ami the base in the negative cup. Certain mineral substances, such as basalt,
zeolite, and vitreous lava from ./Etna, were examined ; and although the saline
ingredients in some cases prevailed in extremely minute proportions, their
presence was, nevertheless, distinctly manifested. The soluble compounds,
such as sulphate and nitrate of potash, sulphate and phosphate of soda, were
easily decomposed, and the results were the same.
The metallic salts deposited their metallic elements in crystals on the nega-
tive wire, round which the oxide was also deposited, while the acid was col-
lected in the positive cup.
These, however, were only the first and least important of the consequences
of the idea of extending the principle in virtue of which the Voltaic wire cor-
roded the glass. We shall dismiss this for the present, to consider the next
series of experiments in these researches, but shall resume the subject.
From many of his own experiments, and some described by Gautherot,
Hisinger, Berzelius, and Ritter, it was apparent that the Voltaic influence was
capable not only of decomposing compound bodies, but also of transferring, or,
if the term may be permitted, decanting their constituents from one vessel to
another. The series of experiments which follows next in order in these re-
searches was directed to the examination of the limits of that power, and the
effects attending it under conditions not before tried.
When the substance to be decomposed was insoluble, it was formed into a
cup, as in the preceding experiments, and water contained in it was exposed to <
the Voltaic action. Thus let A, fig. 5, be aji agate cup, and S a cup made of \
Fig. 5.
354
GALVANISM.
the salt was decomposed, the base passing into or remaining in the negative,
and the acid in the positive cup.
The time required for these transmissions appeared to increase, c&lens pari-
bus, as the space through which the decomposed elements were to be trans-
mitted increased.
To determine whether the action of the metallic wires proceeding from the
Voltaic battery was immediately engaged in the production of these decompo-
sitions, the next experiments were arranged so that the electric current should
be transmitted to the solution to be decomposed through liquid conductors.
For this purpose, three cups (P, I, and N, fig. 6) were provided ; the extreme
Fig. 6.
ones P and N receiving the positive and negative wires from the battery, and
the cup I connected with each of them by amianthus. The cups P and N
were filled with purified water, and the solution to be decomposed was put into
the intermediate cup I. In every case the acid constituent of the solution was
decanted into P, and the alkaline into N. Lest the amianthus siphons should
have any mechanical effect on the transference of the solution between the
cups, the cups P and N were so filled that the surfaces of the water in them
were above that of the solution in I.
As it was how abundantly apparent that the elements of the decomposed
substance were drawn from cup N through the interstices of the siphons, it Avas
determined to try how far this decanting power could be carried by breaking
the continuity of the siphons, and rendering it impossible for the decomposed
element to reach its destination without passing through an intermediate liquid.
For this purpose, the three cups being arranged as before, two of them, P and
I, were filled with distilled water, the water in I being tinged with litmus ; and
the negative cup N was filled with a solution of the sulphate of potash. If the
energy of the attraction of the positive wire for the acid constituent of the salt
were sufficiently strong to cause it to pass from N to P, through the liquid in
I, it was naturally expected that, on its route, its presence in I would be rendered
manifest by tiie usual effect of reddening the litmus. The acid passed from
N to" P through I, but without being manifested in I by any redness of the so-
lution.
When the saline solution was put in the positive cup P, and the purified water
in the negative cup N, the water in I being tinged with turmeric, the alkali
passed in like manner from P to N without producing any effect on the color
of the liquid I.
As the transmission of acid or alkali by means of the electric current through
water tinged with vegetable colors was effected without producing any sensible
change in these delicate tests of their presence, it was conjectured that, while
in this state of transition, or electrical progression, the chemical elements were
GALVANISM.
355
deprived of their wonted properties, and that therefore they would equally pass
through solutions of substances for which, under ordinary circumstances, they )
exhibit a strong affinity, that affinity being rendered dormant, or counteracted,
by the predominating influence of the electrical attraction. To reduce this
conjecture to the test of experiment, the water tinged with vegetable colors in
the intermediate cup I was replaced by a weak solution of ammonia, purified
water was put into the cup P, and a solution of the sulphate of potash in the
cup N. The sulphuric acid, attracted by the positive wire, could only reach
the cup P by passing through the solution of ammonia. With a battery of 1 50
pairs, the presence of the acid in P was manifested in five minutes by litmus
paper. In half an hour, the solution in P became sour to the taste, and pre-
cipitated solution of nitrate of baryta. Thus the sulphuric acid passed through
the solution of ammonia in I without producing upon it any chemical change.
Solutions of lime, potash, and soda, were successively substituted, with similar
results.
Muriate of soda and nitrate of potash were successively placed in the cup N,
and the muriatic and nitric acids made to pass through concentrated alkaline
menstrua in 1 without any chemical effects.
The neutral salts of lime, potash, soda, ammonia, and magnesia in solution,
were successively placed in the cup P, distilled water in N, and sulphuric, ni-
tric, and muriatic acids, successively in the intermediate cup I. The alkaline
elements of the salts were thus drawn through the acids, and decanted into N,
| without undergoing any change themselves, or causing any change in the
acids.
Strontia and baryta passed freely by a similar process through muriatic and
nitric acids, and reciprocally these acids passed with equal facility through so-
lutions of strontia and baryta. The uniformity of this series of phenomena
was, however, broken when it was attempted to transmit the same alkalies
through sulphuric acid, or to pass sulphuric acid through them. A new order
of effects was here evolved.
A solution of sulphate of potash was placed in the cup N, distilled water in
P, and a solution of baryta in I. The sulphate of potash was decomposed as
before, and sulphuric acid passed from the negative cup on its route toward the
positive wire ; but its progress was arrested in the intermediate cup, where it
was seized by the baryta and precipitated. It appeared, however, that this
obstruction to the progress of the acid was not absolutely complete ; for when
the process was continued for several days, traces of acid were found in the
positive cup. When a solution of strontia was substituted for the baryta in the
intermediate cup, the effects were similar.
When the muriate of baryta was put in the positive cup, sulphuric acid in the
intermediate cup I, and water in the negative cup N, no alkali passed to the
cup N, all being arrested in I, where the sulphate of baryta was manifest, and
muriatic acid remained in the cup P.
It appeared, therefore, that the exception to the transmission of the elements
of bodus through menstrua for which they have an affinity, includes the cases
in whiJu the result of that affinity would be an insoluble compound. The sul-
phates of strontia arid baryta are insoluble in water ; and sulphuric acid cannot
be transmitted, by the electric current, through strontia or baryta, nor the latter
through the former.
The operation of these principles was very beautifully illustrated by the fol-
lowing experiment : The cups P and N were filled with solution of muriate of
soda, and the cup I with solution of sulphate of silver. The cup P was con-
nected with I by a slip of wet turmeric paper, and the cup N was connected
with I by a slip of wet litmus paper. When the operation of the battery com-
356
GALVANISM.
menced, the presence of soda in a free state was manifested in the cup N, and
muriatic aud in the cup P. The muriatic acid drawn from the cup N, through |
the litmus paper, was seen to form a dense precipitate in the cup I, and the t
soda passing through the turmeric paper from the cup P was observed in the
cup I, forming a more diffused and lighter precipitate. But neither the acid in
passing through the litmus paper, nor the alkali in passing through the turmeric
paper, produced any change in the color of these tests.
When salts having metallic oxides as bases were placed in the cup P, acid
solutions being put in I, the oxides passed through the acids ; but their prog-
ress was much slower than that of the alkalies. When a solution of the green
sulphate of iron was placed in P, and muriatic acid in I, the green oxide of
iron began to appear in about ten hours on the amianthus connecting N and I ;
and it took three days to collect any considerable quantity of it in the cup N.
The results were similar when solutions of sulphate of copper, nitrate of lead,
and nitro-muriate of tin, were placed in the cup P.
The transmission of the constituents of salts through solutions of the neutral
salts was next tried, and the results were what was anticipated. Saline solu-
tions being placed in N and I, and purified water in P, the alkali of I first
began to pass into N : then the alkali of P, after passing through I, reached
N, and at the same time the acid of I passed into P. Ultimately the two acids
were collected in P, and the two alkalies in N. As an example of this, the
cup N was filled with a solution of the muriate of baryta, the cup I with sul-
phate of potash, and the cup P with pure water. A battery of 150 pairs
brought sulphuric acid in five minutes, and muriatic acid in two hours, into P.
When the cup P was filled with a solution of sulphate of potash, I with mu-
riate of baryta, and N with distilled water, the baryta appeared in the water in
a few minutes ; after an hour, the potash became sensible in it.
When the muriate of baryta was in P, the sulphate of potash in I, and water
in N, the potash soon appeared in the water ; but the baryta was arrested in
the intermediate cup by the sulphuric acid, and sulphate of baryta was abun-
dantly precipitated. In like manner, when sulphate of silver was placed in
the cup I, muriate of baryta being in N, and water in P, sulphuric acid alone
passed into P, and a precipitation took place in I.
The effects of the electric current on the principles of vegetable and animal
substances was next tried. The fresh stalk of a polyanthus-leaf was used in-
stead of the siphon of amianthus, to connect the two cups P and N (fig. 7), the
Fig. 7.
cup I being omitted. The cup P was filled with a solution of nitrate of stron-
tia, and the cup N with purified water. The water soon became green, and
showed the presence of alkali ; and the solution in the cup P indicated the
presence of free nitric acid. After ten minutes, the alkaline matter in N being
GALVANISM.
357
examined, proved to be potash and lime, but no strontia had yet arrived in the
cup. In half an hour, however, strontia appeared, and in four hours was
/ abundant.
A piece of the muscular flesh of beef was used in like manner as a siphon
' connecting the two cups, P containing a solution of muriate of baryta, and N
distilled water. Soda, ammonia, and lime, appeared first in the water, an.l
after about an hour and a quarter the baryta began to arrive. Muriatic acid \\ .
abundantly liberated in the cup P.
It is nothing more than a general expression of the phenomena which have
been just detailed to say, that hydrogen, alkaline matter, metals, and certain
metallic oxides, are attracted toward the negative, and repelled from the posi-
tive pole of a Voltaic apparatus ; and that oxygen and acid substances are
affected with a similar attraction and repulsion in the contrary direction.
As to the actual process by which the transfer of the element decomposed
takes place, either between the positive and negative wires in the solution un-
der decomposition, or through the intermediate solution, no distinct opinion was
expressed in the paper now noticed. Davy showed that it is natural to sup-
pose that the repellent and attractive energies are conveyed from one particle
to another of the same kind, and that locomotion (of these particles) takes place
in consequence. He considered this to be proved by many facts. Thus when
an acid was drawn from the negative to the positive cup through an alkaline
solution contained in the intermediate cup, if the Voltaic action was for a mo-
ment suspended before the transfer of all the acid in the negative cup had been
effected, traces of acid were always discoverable in the intermediate cup. It
appears from this that the series of acid molecules, while moving between the
ends of 'the amianthus siphons in the intermediate cup, do not enter into com-
bination with the alkali ; but if the motion be for a moment suspended, com-
bination instantly takes place. In this case, therefore, it would not appear that
any supposition of transmission by a series of decompositions and recomposi-
tions is compatible with the phenomena.
In the cases, however, of the decomposition of water (where the whole men-
struum between the decomposing wires is water), and of solution of neutral
salts (where also the menstruum is altogether composed of the same solution),
he admits that there may possibly be a succession of decompositions and re-
compositions throughout the fluid. He admits, also, that the impossibility of
transmitting through an acid or alkali any element which forms with it an in-
soluble compound, although the transmission is perfect when the compound is
soluble, supports the hypothesis of a succession of compositions and decompo-
sitions taking place in every case. He maintains, that although in some cases
insoluble substances are transmitted, the transmission is effected in a manner
totally different from that which takes place in the more general case. The
insoluble matter was, in these cases, carried over mechanically, either through
the interstices of the siphons, or by means of " a thin stratum of pure water,
where the solution had been decomposed at the surface by carbonic acid."
It appears from the tenor of the observations in this paper, " on the mode
of decomposition and transition," that the mind of the author had not yet ar-
rived at any opinion satisfactory to himself on this subject.
By the experiments of Volta it had been shown that different metals brought
into contact were oppositely electrified after separation. Davy found that an
acid and a metal being in contact, the former became negative, and the latter
positive ; but that when an alkali and a metal were in contact, the electrical
| effects were reversed. As a general fact it appeared, therefore, that positive
electricity has a tendency to pass from acids to metals, and from metals to al-
kalies, and negative electricity to flow in the opposite direction. Diffeient
i
p
358 GALVANISM.
bodies were, therefore, regarded by Davy as having with relation to each other
specific electrical energies. Acids have a negative and alkalies a positive enei-
gy, with relation to metals ; while metals have a positive energy with relation
to acids, and a negative energy with relation to alkalies.
Various experiments of a delicate kind were made to establish this general
principle. To avoid the disturbing effects which would be introduced by
chemical action, the substances of each kind selected for experimental exami-
nation were in the solid and dry form. When oxalic, succinic, benzoic, or bo-
racic acid, perfectly dry, either in powder or crystals, was touched upon a
large surface with a disk of copper, zinc, or tin. insulated, the metal became
positive, and the acid negative. Phosphoric acid and zinc gave a like result.
Metallic plates being brought in like manner in contact with lime, strontia,
magnesia, or soda, became negative, the earths being positive. The attraction
of potash for water was too strong to allow that alkali to be submitted to trial.
Sulphur became positive after contact with a metallic plate, and the supposed
exception to this in the case of lead was removed by showing that the sub-
stance rubbed against newly polished lead always became positive.
All these facts went to support the position, that the electrical relation of
different substances, as shown by mere contact, was in harmony with the law
according to which electricity was developed in the Voltaic apparatus, and with
the phenomena of decomposition. To complete the experimental proof of this
analogy, it would have been necessary to show that oxygen has a negative and
hydrogen a positive electrical energy in relation to the metals. Not being able
to accomplish this, recourse was had to the compounds of these substances.
Sulphuretted hydrogen in water, used in the Voltaic arrangement of single
metallic plates, plays the part of an alkali. To support by a like analogy the
negative character of oxygen, he showed that oxymuriatic acid* (chlorine)
was more powerfully negative in relation to metal than muriatic acid, even in a
higher degree of concentration.
He assumed as a principle suggested by analogy and supported by experi-
ment, that two bodies which have contrary electrical energies in relation to a third
body have contrary electrical energies in relation to each other ; that is to say,
two bodies, A and B, being successively brought into contact with a third C ;
if A is found to be positive after separation and B negative, then it follows that
if A and B be brought into mutual contact, A will be positive after separation
and B negative. Lime and oxalic acid in a dry and solid state, the former
being positive and the latter negative in relation to metals, were brought into
contact, and the electricity collected after repeated contacts by a condensing
electrometer. The lime was found to be positive and the acid negative.
Guided by the analogies suggested by such facts, Davy maintained, as a
general principle, that oxygen and acid substances have a negative electrical
energy in relation to hydrogen and alkaline substances ; and that in the de-
compositions and changes presented by the effects of electricity, the different
bodies naturally possessed of chemical affinities appear to be incapable of en-
tering into combination or of remaining in combination by virtue of these
affinities when they are placed in a state of electricity, contrary to the natural
relation of their electrical energies. Thus the acids in the positive part of the
circuit separate themselves from the alkalies, oxygen from hydrogen, and so on ;
and metals on the negative side do not unite with oxygen, and acids do not re-
main in union with their oxides ; and in this way the attractive and repellant
agencies seem to be communicated from the metallic surfaces (the poles of the
ile) throughout the whole of the menstruum.
* This substance was then supposed to be a compound.
r
GALVANISM. 359
In all cases in which bodies combine chemically, they are found to have
contrary electrical energies. Examples are numerous. "The bodies in the
first of the following columns are all negative with respect to those which are
opposite to them in the second : —
Oxygen Zinc.
Oxygen Silver.
Copper Zinc.
Gold Mercury.
Metals Sulphur.
Acids Alkalies.
The constituent particles of each of these substances when brought into
contact, being naturally in opposite states of electricity, will, according to thn
common laws of electricity, attract each other. If they be solid bodies, the
force of aggregation of these particles, which constitutes the character of their
solidity, will resist their separation ; but if the constituent particles be free to
move and intermingle among each other, then the attraction due to their proper
electricity will take effect, combination will ensue, the conditions of equilibri-
um of the electrical forces will be satisfied, and all signs of free electricity
will cease.
In support of this hypothesis it is argued, that when, by artificial means, the
elements of any compound are invested with electricity contrary to that which
naturally belongs to them, such electricity exerting a force contrary to that
which produces or maintains, or tends to produce or maintain their combina-
tion, that combination, if it exist, is dissolved, and if it tend to be effected, is
prevented.
Thus zinc is one of the metals which have the strongest natural tendency to
combine with oxygen. Let it be charged with negative electricity, and its ox-
ydation becomes impossible, because, according to Davy's hypothesis, the pos-
itive electricity naturally belonging to its molecules is neutralized by the nega-
tive electricity artificially imparted to it. Again, silver is one of the metals
which have the least tendency to unite with oxygen ; but let silver be charged
with positive electricity, and it oxydates easily. The positive electricity sup-
plied artificially gives increased power to that which the particles possess, so
as to augment their attraction for the negative particles of the oxygen.
The cases of bodies which have contrary electrical energies, either in rela-
tion to a third body or in relation to each other, are therefore simple, and easily
apprehended. But two bodies may have electrical energies with respect to a
third, the same in kind, but unequal in degree. Thus all acids are negative in
relation to metals, but any two of them will be unequally so ; and in like man-
ner all alkalies are positive, but unequally positive in relation to metals. Sul-
phuric acid is more negative than muriatic acid in relation to lead, and potash is
mure positive than soda in relation to tin. Such bodies compared with each
other may have the same or contrary electrical energies, or they may be neu-
tral. Sulphur and the alkalies are positive in relation to the metals, but their
electrical energies with respect to each other are contrary.
The evolution of heat and light, which commonly attends the restoration of
electrical equilibrium between two bodies strongly charged with electricity by
artificial means, is brought by Davy in further support of his theory. It is well
known that heat and light also result from intense chemical action. When the
electric current passes through bodies, the electricity being then incomparably
more feeble in intensity than that which proceeds from the common machine,
heat is evolved without light, and the degree of this heat is, catcris paribns,
augmented as the intensity of the electricity is increased. In the same man-
ner in slow chemical combinations there is an increase of temperature without !
luminous appearance.
Heat, by producing fusion, and liberating the constituent particles of bodies
from their natural aggregation, has been regarded as being conducive to their <
360 GALVANISM.
chemical combination. In the theory proposed by Davy it is, moreover, viewed
as being otherwise instrumental in giving play to the affinities. That heat is
one of the means of exalting the electrical energy of bodies, is apparent from
its known effects on glass and tourmaline. But in the experiments now noticed,
more distinct and specific evidence is adduced of its direct electric agency.
A plate of sulphur was placed on an insulated plate of copper, and the temper-
ature of the bodies being gradually elevated, their electrical state was examined
at different stages of the experiment. At 56° the electricity was scarcely
sensible to a condensing electrometer; at 100° it affected the gold leaves
without the condenser, and increased in a still higher degree as the sulphur
approached its point of fusion.
Since heat, therefore, increases the natural electrical energy of the com-
ponent particles of bodies, it gives them, according to the theory of Davy,
an increased tendency to combine chemically, if those energies be con-
trary.
Hence, when a spark, or other sufficient source of heat, is introduced into a
mixture of oxygen and hydrogen, it renders the contiguous molecules of oxy-
gen more strongly negative, and those of hydrogen more strongly positive. In
virtue of their increased mutual attraction they combine, and in combining heat
is evolved, which affecting other contiguous molecules causes further combina-
tion, and so on until the combination is complete.
According to this hypothesis, combination should be rapid, heat and light
intense, and the compound neutral in its properties, whenever the electrical
energies of the two constituents are strong and perfectly equal. But when
they are very unequal, the effects would be less vivid, and the compound would
have the acid or alkaline character, according as the energy of the negative or
positive constituent is in excess.
The production of water from the combination of oxygen and hydrogen, and
the formation of the metallic salts, are adduced as examples of strong and
equal energies. Like examples are afforded by the nitrate, sulphate, and chlo-
rate of potash and muriate of lime, which severally, when touched upon a
large surface by plates of copper and zinc, gave no electrical signs. Subcar-
bonate of soda and borax, on the contrary, gave a slight negative charge, and
alum and superphosphate of lime a feeble positive charge.
The next section of this remarkable paper professes to explain the author's
views of the " mode of action" of the Voltaic pile. The absence of that per-
spicuous style of expression which so generally characterizes his writings, in
this case justifies the supposition that his own perceptions on the subject of the
theory he proposes were not at the time very clear or well defined. It must
be recollected that Volta maintained that the source of electricity in the pile
was the contact of the dissimilar metals, and that the intervening fluid merely
acted the part of a conductor to carry away, in a continued stream, the positive
electricity from each zinc surface, and the negative electricity from each cop-
per surface. Fabroni and Creve, and afterward Wollaston and others, main-
tained that the source of tht electricity was the chemical action between the
zinc and the fluid, and that the intervening copper acted as a conductor to carry
away, in a continued stream, the positive electricity from one side of the fluid,
and the negative electricity from the other. Davy professed to reconcile these
conflicting hypotheses by admitting, with Volta, that the opposite currents were
propagated from the surface of contact of the zinc and copper ; but that the
liquid separating the pairs of plates did not, and could not, carry forward the
currents, as Volta maintained, by their conducting power, but that they effected
that object by the chemical action which took place between them and the j
zinc. This is our view of the theory proposed by Davy in the paper now re- /
-X-v^-V/W
•
1
GALVANISM. 361
ferred to ; but, as has been already stated, the expressions are not so clear as
to remove all doubt of his exact meaning.
Davy uses the term " electrical energy" apparently to express the same phe-
nomenon which Volta called " electro-motive action," and which had been also
called "Voltaic action." This term denotes the quantity of electricity evolved
upon the two metals on either side of their common surface, according to Vol-
ia's theory of contact. The act of conveying forward through the series in
each direction the electricity, positive and negative, thus propagated at the
common surface, is called by Davy the " restoration of the electrical equilib-
rium which was disturbed by the electrical energy of the metals." Strictly
speaking, there is no restoration whatever of electrical equilibrium during the
action of the pile. The electric fluids are never in a state of repose. Two
currents run in uninterrupted streams in opposite directions. When therefore
Davy says that " the chemical changes" produced by the liquid interposed be-
tween the metallic elements of the pile are "the causes that tend to restore
the equilibrium," he must, as we conceive, be understood to mean that these
changes are " the causes by which the electric currents are propagated toward
the poles of the pile."
Having premised these explanations, let us now consider the reasoning and
the facts on which this theory of Davy has been based. He denies that the
liquid elements of the pile can act as an ordinary conductor of electricity> the
term conductor being used in the same sense as when applied to the metals
and other solid conductors, because, with regard to electricities of such very
low intensity, water (as well as liquids in general) is an insulating body. Be-
sides, there is every reason to believe that, " if the fluid medium were a sub-
stance incapable of decomposition (by the metallic elements), the motion of the
electricity would cease." When the liquid in a Voltaic arrangement of zinc
and copper is a solution of muriate of soda, decomposition ensues. The oxy-
gen and muriatic acid pass through the fluid from the copper toward the zinc,
transporting or transported by the negative current ; and the hydrogen and soda
pass from the zinc toward the copper, transporting or transported by the posi-
tive current. Whether the author considered that the transfer of the electricity
is effected by the locomotion of the decomposed elements through the fluid, or
by a series of decompositions and recompositions, in which there is no motion
of translation imparted to any of the elements resulting from the decomposi-
tion, and in which the electricities themselves are not transferred through the
fluid, but rendered alternately free and latent as the successive decompositions
and recompositions are effected, does not appear from the developments con-
tained in this paper.
A pile of twenty-four pairs, in which the connecting fluid was water free
from air, had no Voltaic power. To determine whether another liquid with
superior conducting power, but still incapable of chemical action, would be af-
fected, concentrated sulphuric acid was tried. No permanent current was pro-
duced. Solutions of neutral salts render the pile active at first ; but when, by
continued decomposition, the solution in contact with the zinc becomes acid,
and that in contact with the copper alkali, the action ceases. Dilute acids
>3ing themselves easily decomposed, and promoting the decomposition of the
water, dissolving the oxide of zinc as fast as it is formed, and evolving gases
only on the copper side, are the most powerful and durable fluid elements for
a pile. All these facts supply converging evidence upon the position that
chemical action is essential to the vitality of the Voltaic apparatus.
Against the hypothesis that chemical change is the primary source of the
action of the pile, it is contended that in a combination of zinc and copper
plates with dilute nitrous acid, the side of the zinc exposed to the acid is posi-
362
GALVANISM.
tive ; but in a Voltaic combination of zinc water and dilute nitric acid, the side
of the zinc exposed to the acid is negative. The chemical action of the acid
on the zinc being in both cases the feame, it is argued that if the electric cur-
rents originated at the common surface of the zinc and acid, which they would
do if chemical change were their primary source, the direction of the currents
would be the same, instead of being contrary in the two cases.
As a further argument against the chemical theory of the pile, Davy main-
tained that in mere cases of chemical change, electricity is never exhibited;
and endeavored to support this position by the examples of iron burned in oxy-
gen, the deflagration of nitre and charcoal, the combination of solid potash and
sulphuric, acid, and other chemical actions. Subsequent investigation, how-
ever, has shown that this principle is not tenable, and that chemical change is
attended with the evolution of electricity.
With Davy, as with Franklin, application ever trod closely on the heels of
discovery. The same memoir which disclosed the brilliant series of discov-
eries of which we have here attempted to give a brief analysis, also indicated
the vast applications of which they were susceptible, in the further investiga-
tions of the laws of nature, and in arts conducive to the economy of life. The
detection of acid and alkaline matter in mineral, animal, and vegetable sub-
stances, and their separation from them, was sufficiently obvious. A piece of
muscular fibre, through which the electric current was transmitted for five days,
was rendered dry and hard. Potash, soda, ammonia, lime, and oxide of iron,
were carried from it by the negative current ; and the three mineral acids, with
phosphoric acid, passed off with the positive current. From a laurel leaf the
negative current carried green coloring matter, resin, alkali, and lime, and the
positive current took vegetable prussic acid. Mint gave potash and lime with
the negative, and an acid matter with the positive current. The flesh of the
living hand, carefully washed in pure water, gave a mixture of muriatic, sul-
phuric, and phosphoric acids with the positive current, and fixed alkaline mat-
ter with the negative current. This fact accounts for the acid and alkaline
tastes first observed by Sulzer given by metals in contact.
By converting the processes, the Voltaic currents may be made the means
of introducing acids and alkaline or metallic principles, into the animal and
vegetable system. This idea has since been realized in medical practice by
some physicians.
In the experiments hitherto made, the acids and alkalies themselves were
not decomposed. The history of scientific discovery affords no more remark-
able example of that instinctive foresight which enables the philosopher to
suspect the direction in which truth lies, and prompts him in the selection of
subjects of inquiry, than is apparent in comparing Davy's present guesses with
the result of his subsequent researches. " These facts," says he, " induce us
to hope that this new mode of analysis may lead to the discovery of the true
elements of bodies, if the materials acted on be employed in a certain state of
concentration, and the electricity be sufficiently exalted. For if chemical
union be of the nature which I have ventured to suppose, however strong the
natural electrical energies of the elements of bodies may be, there is yet every
probability of a limit to their strength : whereas the powers of our artificial
instruments seem capable of indefinite increase."
How soon he led the way toward the realization of this magnificent conjec-
ture will presently appear.
Sudden and violent derangements of the electrical equilibrium of the ele-
ments of our system are manifested in other cases besides the glaring intt
offered by atmospheric phenomena. The electrical appearances which pre-
cede and attend earthquakes and volcanic eruptions admit of easy explanation
GALVANISM. 353
on the electro-chemical theory. The slow and gradual changes observed by
the geologist are indications of the more tranquil and incessant operations of
electrical agency. Where strata of pyrites and coalblende occur ; where the
pure metals or the sulphurets are found in contact with each other, or with any
conducting substances ; and where different strata contain different saline men-
strua, electricity must be evolved, and by its agency mineral formations would
probably be influenced or produced.
These views, which have been recently confirmed by the observations of
Mr. Fox on the electrical condition of the metallic veins in Cornwall, were il-
lustrated by experiment. A mixed solution of muriates of iron, copper, tin,
and cobalt, was placed in the positive cup P, and distilled water in the nega-
tive cup N, the cups being connected by asbestos. The four oxides passed
through the asbestos to the cup N ; a yellow metallic crust was formed on the
negative wire, round the base of which the oxides collected in a mixed state.
In another experiment the carbonate of copper was diffused in minute subdi-
vision through water, and a negative wire placed in a small perforated cube of
zeolite in the liquid. Green crystals collected upon the cube and adhered to
it, the particles being incapable of penetrating it. By the multiplication of
such instances, Davy conceived that the electrical power of decomposition and
transference would afford a satisfactory explanation of some of the principal
facts in geology, and his anticipations have since been to a considerable extent
realized by the researches of Becquerel and others. " Natural electricity,"
says Davy in the conclusion of this memorable paper, " has hitherto been little
investigated, except in the case of its evident and powerful concentration in
the atmosphere. Its slow and silent operations in every part of the surface
will probably be found more immediately and importantly connected with the
order and economy of nature ; and investigation on this subject can hardly fail
to enlighten our philosophical systems of the earth, and may possibly place
new powers within our reach."*
His theoretical ideas on the application of electrical decomposition to the
splution of the phenomena of geology were seized with ardor by Guyton Mor-
veau. That eminent chemist, like Davy, endeavored to exhibit on a small
scale, by direct experiments, the processes which are continually going on in
the crust of the earth. The native oxide of antimony he regarded as an ex-
ample of slow transition from the state of a sulphuret to that of a pure oxide,
by means of the decomposition of water by subterranean electricity. By care-
ful examination of a specimen of this mineral, he observed that it still retained
the structure of the crystallized sulphuret of antimony, and even preserved par-
tially its metallic lustre, and inferred that a slow Voltaic action had changed
its composition without disturbing the arrangement of its constituent parts. To
support those ideas suggested to him in Davy's celebrated paper by direct experi-
ment, he submitted a piece of sulphuret of antimony to the action of a power-
ful voltaic apparatus. An odor of sulphuretted hydrogen was soon perceiva-
ble ; the liquid asumed a yellow color, and the sulphuret appeared of a darker
tint, and iridescent, indicating incipient decomposition. The negative plato
became black; and the positive one was coated with a light yellow incrusta-
tion, which proved to be the oxide of antimony. Thus it appeared that the
sulphuret of antimony was capable of being transferred immediately into the
oxide by the mere operation of the Voltaic forces. Other native sulphurets
were tried in like manner, and gave similar results.f
During the twelve months next succeeding the date of the memoir above
noticed, Davy devoted his labors, and directed all the powers of his genius, to
the development of the consequences of the theoretical principles which he
* Philosophical Transactions, 1807. t Annales de Chimie, torn, liii., p. 113.
GALVANISM.
had propounded, and to the realization of the ideas he had ventured to throw
out respecting the resolution of natural substances, before regarded as simple,
into their constituents. Never before did theory more surely lead to discov-
ery ; never was the prophetic instinct of a philosopher more speedily or more
magnificently satisfied. His foreknowledge of the facts to be disclosed and
the instruments for their disclosure, of the end to be attained and the means
of attaining it, of the route to be followed and the goal to be reached, was dis-
tinctly expressed ; and with the confidence inspired by clear perceptions and
conscious power, he immediately advanced in the course he described, ar,J
attained the end he foresaw. The resolution of the alkalies and earths into
their elements was the splendid result of his labors during the year 1807, and
was consigned to the Bakerian lecture read before the Royal Society on the
19th of November in that year.
His first efforts were directed to potash, which was submitted in a state of
solution to the electric current. The water only was decomposed, the alkali
refusing to yield. In its dry state it would not transmit the current. In order
to give it. a conducting power, and at the same time exclude water, on which
by preference the current appeared to act, the alkali was now placed in a pla-
tinum spoon, and exposed to the flame of a lamp directed upon it by a blast of
oxygen. When reduced to the fluid state by such means, the potash transmit-
ted the Voltaic current. When the metal of the spoon was positive, and the
point of a platinum wire inserted in the fluid alkali negative, combustion at-
tended by intense splendor was exhibited at the wire, and a column of flame
arose from the point of contact of the wire with the alkali. When the spoon
was negative, and the wire positive, a vivid light appeared on the former ;
aeriform globules rose through the liquid potash, which inflamed as soon as
they escaped into the air.
It was conjectured that the constituent of the potash, attracted by the n^ Da-
tive pole, was the matter which in these cases escaped in bubbles ; and that
its affinity for oxygen was so strong, that the moment it came in contact with the
atmosphere it recombined with oxygen and produced combustion. The question
therefore, now was, how to arrest that element, and submit it to examination.
As the liquefaction of the alkali by heat appeared to entail, as a conse-
quence the immediate recombination of its separated constituent, it was nov
attempted to give the necessary conducting power to the potash, by allowing
it to imbibe from the atmosphere as much moisture as would give a conducting
power to its surface. The alkali in this state was placed on a platinum disk,
which was connected with the negative pole, while a wire connected with the
positive pole was applied to its upper surface. At the upper surface, there was
a disengagement of gas ; at the lower surface small metallic globules appeared,
like mercury, in their visible character. Some of these burnt by contact wi?.h
the air. Others had their metallic lustre tarnished, and finally covered with a
white film, which defended them from the atmosphere, and preserved them in
their metallic state.
The gas disengaged at the positive wire was oxygen, and the metal depos-
ited was the base of the alkali, afterward called POTASSIUM.
Soda, when submitted to a like process, gave a similar result, and the metal
educed from it was that which is now called SODIUM.
This capital discovery was made in October, 1807. Potassium was dis-
covered on the 6th of that month, and sodium a few days after.
Sensitive friends of the great British chemist have been moved to vindicate J
the glory of this discovery from those who would tarnish it by ascribing to the j
accidental possession of the laboratory and apparatus of the Royal Institution j
of Great Britain a share in producing it These generous survivors may tran- j
GALVANISM. 355
quillize their fears. Possibly such vindication may be called for by a portion
of the present generation having pretensions sufficient to raise them to the
.level of envy, but wanting those better qualities which would elevate them ]
above it. Certainly no such apology will be needful with posterity.
The strong affinities of these new metals for one or other of the constituents <
of almost every body with which they were brought in contact, and of every i
menstruum or atmosphere with which they could be surrounded, was very em- \
barrassing, and rendered the examination of their physical properties extremely
difficult. It was found most convenient, either to preserve them in a tube pro-
tected from the contact of the air above recently distilled naphtha, or to allow
them to combine with mercury so as to form an amalgam, and in that state to
preserve them, separating them by heat when the pure metal was required.
The analogy suggested by the decomposition of the fixed alkalies naturally
led to a like inquiry with respect to the earths which enjoy with the former
common properties, and those which seemed most analogous to the alkalies.
Baryta, strontia, lime, and magnesia, were tried by like methods, but without
any satisfactory result. Being slightly moistened at their surfaces, they were
exposed to the electric current transmitted by iron wire under naphtha. At
the negative pole they assumed a darker color, and small particles appeared
there, showing metallic lustre, and which gradually whitened by exposure to
air. In the experiments on potassium it was found that when a mixture of
potash and the oxide of mercury, tin, or lead, was exposed to the Voltaic cur-
rent, decomposition ensued, and an amalgam of potassium was produced. The
same method was accordingly tried with the alkaline earths. Mixtures of
these substances with oxides of tin, lead, silver, and mercury, were exposed
to the current. In these cases, a small quantity of a substance having the
whiteness of silver was deposited at the negative pole, which was found to be
an amalgam. Still the results were not conclusive or satisfactory.
The labors of Davy had attained this point when, in June, 1808, he re-
ceived a letter from M. Berzilius, informing him that, assisted by Dr. Pontin,
that chemist had succeeded in decomposing baryta and lime, by exposing them
in contact with mercury to the current. Davy immediately repeated the ex-
J periment, and obtained the amalgam of the metallic base of baryta at the neg-
) ative pole. This was accomplished by a battery of 500 pairs, weakly charged,
] acting on a surface of slightly moistened baryta through the medium of a glob-
ule of mercury. The mercury gradually became less fluid, and, after a few
minutes, was found covered with a white film of baryta ; and when the amal-
gam was thrown into water, the latter was decomposed, hydrogen was dis-
missed, mercury precipitated, and a solution of baryta formed. A like process
gave a similar result with lime.
Having thus verified the results obtained by Berzelius, Davy extended the
same method to strontia and magnesia. The former readily yielded ; the lat-
ter was more intractable. By continuing the process, however, for a longer
time, and keeping the earth continually moist, at last a combination of the basis
with mercury was obtained, which slowly produced magnesia by absorption of
oxygen from the air, or by decomposing water.
Thus were discovered BARIUM, STRONTIUM, CALCIUM, and MAGNESIUM, as
an immediate consequence of the first great step made in this course of investi-
gation by the discovery of potassium and sodium.
The next group of earths brought to trial consisted of alumina, silica, zirco-
nia, and glucinia, which proved more refractory than any of the former. Driven
in search of other methods of experimenting, he considered minutely their
qualities in relation to other bodies, with a view to the discovery of analogies /
by which his researches might be conducted. From the absence of any ten- j
clency in alumina and silica to yield to the attraction of the electric current in
the direction of either pole, he inferred the probability of their partaking of the
.nature of nutro-saiine substances, and attempted their decomposition by pro-
cesses suggested by that supposition. Failing in these, and observing that
alumina and silica have both a strong affinity for potash and soda, and consid-
ering that such affinity could not proceed from the oxygen which might be one
of their constituents, he inferred that it must be a quality of their metallic bases,
and that it would, in that case, be probable that, if mixed with soda or potash,
and exposed to the electric current, the base might be made to separate, and to
attach itself to the base of the alkali. A mixture of silica and potash, in the
proportion of one to six, was accordingly put in a platinum crucible, and re-
duced to a fluid state over a charcoal fire. The crucible was put in connexion
with the positive pole of a battery of five hundred pairs, and a rod of platinum
connected with the negative pole was brought in contact with the alkaline
menstruum. The moment the end of the negative rod touched the liquid, glob-
ules rose through it to the surface, on which they swam about in a state of
brilliant combustion. When the mixture cooled, the platinum bar was removed,
and the alkali and salex which adhered to it detached ; there remained upon it
brilliant metallic scales, which, immediately on exposure, became covered with
a white crust, and some of which burnt spontaneously. Being plunged in wa-
ter, the end of the platinum produced effervescence, and an alkaline solution
was formed, which, upon examination, was proved to contain silica. The same
process applied to alumni gave a like result.
It was now determined to try the effect of the Voltaic current upon the earths,
in contact with potassium itself. An amalgam of potassium, in contact with
silica, was negatively electrified under naphtha. After being acted on for an
hour, the amalgam was made to decompose water, and the alkali thus obtained
was neutralized by acetous acid. A white precipitate was obtained having all
the characters of silica.
The same process was applied, with the same results, to alumina, glucinia,
and zirconia. It was inferred, therefore, that these earths were oxides of met-
als, to which respectively the names of SILICIUM, ALUMINIUM, GLUCINIUM, and
ZIRCONIUM, were given.
Having established, by direct experiments, the fact that so many of the al-
kaline and earthy substances were oxides with metallic bases, it was consistent
with sound physical logic to assume, as a general law, that " the alkalies and
earths are oxides of metals."
The question, how far the volatile alkali, ammonia, was to be regarded in
relation to such a law, naturally presented itself. Without reference to this>
analogy, or offering any hypothesis to explain the fact, Seebeck had already
shown that an amalgam could be obtained by the action of ammonia on mercu-
ry. This fact was reproduced by Berzelius and Pontin, and communicated by
mem, with various circumstances attending it, to Davy. Berzelius maintained
that ammonia came within the scope of the general law, and that an idea which
had been previously thrown out by Davy was justified by the phenomena which
showed that ammonia was a binary metallic base. This question was theft
taken up by Davy, and the experiments of Berzelius repeated, but without ar
riving at any certain or clear result. Gay-Lussac and Thenard opposed the
views of Davy and Berzelius ; and a contest arose, for which, as it has little
connexion with the progress of electrical science, we shall merely refer to the
scientific periodical works in which it was carried on.*
It has been already observed, that the character of Davy's mind was to pass
AnnalesdeC'iimie, torn. Ixxii., p. 193., Ixxv., 256-291.; Biblioth. Brit., June, 1809, p. 122,
GALVANISM. 367
directly from discovery to application. In the same memoir which contained
the announcement of the subjugation of the alkalies and earths by the powers
of the pile, is found his brilliant hypothesis to explain the phenomena of vol-
canoes and aerolites. The metallic bases of the alkalies and earths cannot
exist at the surface of the earth in their simple or uncombined form, nor even
alloyed with the more perfect metals, because of the intensity of their affinity
for oxygen. But the same cause does not prevent their existence in the inte-
rior parts of the globe. Let the possibility of the existence of potassium, so-
dium, calcium, or any other metals of the same class in the inferior strata of
the earth, either in a separate state or in combination with other metallic sub-
stnnces, be admitted ; and it is only necessary to imagine their occasional ex-
posure to the action of air or water, to obtain a satisfactory solution for volcanic
eruptions. These highly combustible metallic principles, combining with ox-
ygen, attended by violent combustion, are ejected from the bowels of the earth,
and form the craters of volcanoes, the combination being an earthy matter ex-
hibited after its ejection as lava. The formation of aerolites might proceed
from the same causes, their luminous appearance and detonation being produced
by the combustion attending the combination of the metals with oxygen as they
enter the atmosphere.
With a view to test the validity of these ingenious hypotheses, Davy inves-
tigated carefully the phenomena of active volcanoes ; and, not finding them to
be in sufficient accordance with these, he relinquished his theory, without any
of that regret which attends the failure of a favorite hypothesis, when the dis-
covery of truth is an object secondary to the attainment of personal distinc-
tion.
The powers of decomposition and transfer by Voltaic electricity, so stri-
kingly exhibited in the researches of Davy, directed the attention of physiolo-
gists and others once more to the investigation of the agency of electricity in
the vegetable and animal economy. The experiments which had been made
to show that the alkaline and earthy elements found in organized vegetable sub-
stances were evolved, by the process of vegetation, from air and water, had
always been inconclusive and unsatisfactory ; and Davy's experiments, in
which it was shown that even in water carefully distilled there is still held in
solution a portion of saline or metallic matter, together with the known fact,
that air almost always holds in mechanical suspension solid matter of various
kinds, finally overturned such hypotheses. All the substances developed in or-
ganized nature may be produced, by ordinary processes, from combination of
known constituents. The compounds of iron, alkalies, and earthy bodies with
mineral acids, abound in vegetable soil. The decomposition of basaltic, gran-
iti^, and other rocks, affords a constant supply of earthy, alkaline, and ferru-
ginous matter to the superficial part of the earth. In the seeds of all plants ,
which have been examined, nutro-saline compounds, containing potash, soda, A
or iron, have been found. It is easy to imagine that these principles pass from (
vegetables to animals.
The same analogies suggested to Dr. Wollasjon the idea, that something
< like the decomposing and transmitting powers of the pile is the agent to which
? the animal secretions are due, especially as the existence of such agency in a
> considerable degree of intensity, in certain animals, was proved by the effects
> of the torpedo and Gymnotus electricus ; and he considered that the universal
prevalence of the same power, lower only in degree in other animals, was ren-
| dered highly probable by the extreme suddenness with which the nervous in-
, fluence is propagated from one part of the living system to another. Although
' the electric power of decomposition and transfer has been experimentally dem-
onstrated only in cases of comparatively high intensity of action, yet analog)'
368
GALVANISM.
countenanced the idea that very feeble electric energies would produce like
effects more slowly, in proportion to their weakness. To illustrate this by im-
mediate experiment, he tied a piece of clean bladder over one end of a glass
tube three quarters of an inch in diameter, and two inches long, and filled it
with water holding -3^ of its weight of salt in solution. Placing it on a shil-
ling, he connected the silver with the surface of the water by a wire of zinc,
and found that alkali was transmitted through the bladder to the silver by the
attraction of the negative electricity. Decisive indications of this were ob-
tained in five minutes. The efficacy of a power so feeble confirms the con-
jecture that similar agents may be instrumental in various animal secretions.
The blood, which is alkaline, supplies the bladder with matter in which acid
is strongly manifested ; while an excess of alkali, above that contained in the
blood, is manifested in bile. These effects would be explained by admitting a
permanent state of positive electricity in the kidneys, and negative electricity
in the liver. The coincidence of this view with the guesses of Napoleon, al-
ready mentioned, is curious and interesting.*
The last great discovery of Davy directed the attention of the philosophers
of the continent to the same field of inquiry : and, much as had been expected
from the powers of the pile when its illustrious inventor expounded its nature
and properties to the assembled members of the Institute in 1801, it was now,
from day to day, rendered more evident that these powers were inadequately
estimated, and imperfectly understood, and that it was still destined to enrich
every branch of physical science by the development of new and unlooked-for
phenomena. Napoleon, in the magnificent spirit with which his encouragement
of the sciences was always manifested, had presented to the laboratory of the
Polytechnic School a Voltaic apparatus of immense magnitude and power.
With this instrument MM. Gay-Lussac and Thenard undertook an experimental
investigation of the powers of the pile, with the view of determining more
especially the influence which the number of the metallic elements, and the
nature of the liquid used to charge the pile, have on its chemical action. As-
suming, as a modulus of the chemical energy of the pile, the quantity of gas
evolved in the process of decomposition in a given time, they arrived at the
following conclusions: 1. The decomposing energy depends conjointly on
the conducting power of the liquid under decomposition, and on the nature of
that which is used to charge the pile. 2. It is greater when the pile is charged
with a mixture of acid and salt, than with salt alone. 3. The chemical
effects are proportional to the force of the acids by which it is put in action :
and, 4. They do not augment in the same ratio as the number of pairs of plates,
but very nearly in the ratio of the cube root of that number.
That part of the electro-chemical theory of Davy in which the negative
character natural to certain physical elements, and the positive to others, is as-
sumed, was implicitly, if not expressly, included in the hypothesis of Grotthus.
Without such a supposition, the series of decompositions and recompositions
imagined by that philosopher could scarcely be admitted. The probable con-
nexion of chemical attractions with electric forces had been also conjectured
by Hube it his Traite de Physique, and Ritter obscurely expressed some ideas
of the same kind. Immediately before the commencement of Davy's re-
searches, Oersted, since so celebrated for his discoveries in electro-magnetism, (
promulgated a theory,! in which he maintained that all the phenomena of chem- j
istry might be regarded as the result of two general forces common to all mat- i
ter, and that the same forces produced those effects which were rendered sen-
* See Philosophical Magaziue, vol. xxxiii., p. 1088.
t Recherchea sur 1'Identite des Forces Chimiqo
1813.
miques et Electriqucs. Traduit de PAllemand.
GALVANISM.
sible in electric attractions and repulsions. This work, however, was exclu-
sively of a speculative kind, unsupported by any experiments which could give
force or validity to the theory it proposed.
The electro-chemical theory of Davy was the first which had ever professed
to be based on clear and wuii-ascertained facts. It was laid down as a funda-
mental principle in this theory, that when two bodies, the particles of which
are in opposite electrical states, and sufficiently exalted to enable their electric
attraction to overcome the force of aggregation of their particles, ar* brought
into contact, they will unite, and heat and light will be developed by »n« com-
bination of the two electric fluids. When the combination is effected, all signs
of electricity cease, as would necessarily ensue from the union of the two
fluids, but by what power the aggregation of the new compound was main-
tained was not explained.
Berzelius and Ampere, who, of all the philosophers of the continent, evinced
most justice and candor in their appreciation of Davy's merit, took up the
electro-chemical theory, which was not pursued through its consequences by
its author, owing probably to the natural disposition of his mind to investigate
new facts rather than discuss the merits of hypotheses. Berzelius assumed
that the constituent atoms of bodies were not only naturally electrical, as Davy
had maintained, but that they possessed electric polarity, and that the intensi-
fies of their poles are unequal. He investigated, in the tirst place, the two >
' uestions, How electricity exists in bodies? and, How it is that some bodies
are naturally negative, and others sometimes positive and sometimes negative ?
A body never becomes electric, without manifesting the two opposite electric
principles, either in different parts of it, or in the sphere of its action ; when
the two electricities appear separately in a continuous body, they are always
found on opposite sides. The tourmaline and some other crystals offer an ex-
ample of this. But, since the parts of a body possess the same properties as
the body itself, it is necessary to admit that bodies are composed of atoms,
each of which has an electric polarity, and its poles have unequal intensities.
On this polarity depend the chemical phenomena, and its unequal intensity is
the cause of the different force exercised by their affinities. Bodies are ac-
cordingly electro-positive or electro-negative in combining, according as the
influence of the one or other of their atomic poles predominates.
The degree of polarity in this theory is influenced by the temperature.
Thus many substances at common temperatures manifest but feeble electric
polarity, which, at a red-heat, show a very strong one.
No combination can be effected unless thr polarized molecules of one or
both of the combining bodies have free mobility among each other, each being
at liberty to turn on its own centre in any direction, so that the particles may
present toward each other their contrary poles in obedience to their electric
attraction. This condition renders it necessary that one or both of the com-
bining bodies be in the fluid state.
The vulnerable point of this theory was found in the phenomena of aggre-
gation. In what manner can the electric forces which it assumes produce the
hardness, brittleness, ductility, and tenacity, of different species of solids, the
viscidity of liquids, or the elasticity of gases ?
Berzelius admits that these effects are not explicable by this hypothesis.
M. Ampere attempted to solve this question,* by assuming that the atoms of
bodies possessing each its proper electricity, in virtue of which they are ur.ited
in combinations in the same manner as two leaves of paper oppositely electri-
fied adhere to each other, also act by their electricity on the electricity of the
'Journal de Physique, 1821.
370
medium in which they exist, attracting the fluid of the contrary name, and re-
pelling the fluid of the same name. The atoms are therefore considered as
strictly analogous to the Leyden jar ; the internal charge representing the
natural electricity of the atom, and the external that which is drawn from the
surrounding medium. If a combination is formed between an electro-positive
and an electro-negative body, a discharge takes place ; the atoms dismiss their
external charge, and rush into union in virtue of the reciprocal attraction of
their opposite natural electricities. The atmospheres of the atoms, as well as
the atoms themselves, are combined ; but, as the atoms cannot emerge from
( them, their electricities act on those of their atmospheres, exerting attractions
and repulsions, so as to produce electrical phenomena the reverse of those
which attended their combination.
The zinc plates of a Voltaic apparatus, being subject to continual oxydation,
are at length so reduced in thickness, as to render it necessary to replace
them by new ones. This gradual wear of the pile by use rendered it desira-
ble to seek for means of constructing a pile composed of solid elements only ;
a project, however, which could only be entertained by those who conceived
that chemical action was merely incidental, and not essential, to the develop-
ment of Voltaic electricity. Although the high probability, if not the certainty,
that chemical action is indispensable, must render abortive all attempts at the
discovery of a dry pile, such researches have nevertheless been attended with
some advantage.
The term dry pile was intended originally to express a Voltaic pile, of which
all the elements were solid ; and the advantages of such an instrument, if it
could be discovered, were so apparent, that the attention of electricians was di-
rected to it at an early period in the history of Voltaic discovery. If a pile
composed of solid elements (thought they) could but be discovered, neither
evaporation nor chemical action could take place ; the electricity due to the
contact of heterogeneous bodies, according to Volta's theory, would be contin-
ually evolved ; and as the bodies evolving it would suffer no change, the quan-
tity and intensity of the electricity supplied by the instrument would be abso-
lutely uniform and invariable. In 1803, MM. Hachette and Desormes substi-
tuted starch for the liquid in the common pile ; and, in 1809, De Luc invented
a pile apparently free from any liquid element. This apparatus consisted of a
column formed of alternate disks of zinc and paper gilt on one side, the gilt
sides of the paper disks being all turned in one direction. This was in reality
not a dry pile ; the paper imbibed and retained moisture enough to give a feeble
activity to the apparatus.
De Luc's pile was improved by Zamboni in 1812. He rejected the disks
of zinc, and composed the pile of disks of paper only, one surface being tinned,
and the other coated thinly with the peroxide of manganese, brushed with a
mixture of flour and milk ; or gilt or silver paper may be used, the metallic
surface being wetted with a saturated solution of the sulphate of zinc, on
which, when dry, the peroxide of manganese in powder, may be spread.
Several leaves of paper thus prepared are placed one upon the other, and cut
into the required form by a circular cutter. As many disks are thus formed by
one operation as there are leaves of paper superposed ; and these being after-
ward laid one upon the other, the pile is formed. Thi's pile is usually placed j
in a hollow cylinder, of the same internal diameter. The paper disks are forced )
into close contact by pressure produced by screws.
Although, by the aid of a condenser, the electricity evolved in these piles
may be rendered sensible, and sparks may even be obtained, the power is in-
comparably more feeble than that of the common pile, even ia its most ineffi-
cient state. It is found that by increasing beyond a certain limit the number j
GALVANISM. 371
of disks composing these, their power is diminished. Their effects have been
generally limited to those produced on the condenser; but, by diminishing con-
siderably the number of disks, M. Pelletier has succeeded in decomposing
water by these instruments. Their action, however, ceases after the lapse of
a certain period, when the paper has lost all its humidity.
The sources of the disengagement of electricity in this pile are various and
complicated. Besides what may arise from the contact of heterogeneous sub-
stances, chemical action intervenes in several ways. The organic matter acts
upon the zinc as well as upon the peroxide of manganese, reducing the latter
to a lower state of oxydation.
Zamboni examined the effects produced on the electricity of the pile by
soaking the paper to which the tin leaf was pasted in different liquids, and
found that, according as the state of the other side of the paper was changed,
the poles of the pile were thrown to different ends. If the paper be soaked
in oil, the poles are in a direction contrary to that which they assume when a
coating of manganese is used. On the other hand, when the paper is soaked
in honey, in an alkaline solution, a solution of the sulphate of zinc, or half
curdled milk, the poles have the same position as when they arc coated with
manganese.
No sensible shock is received from a pile of two thousand pairs, although
the tension at the poles is sufficient to produce a sensible effect on the proof
plane, and a condenser applied to one of the poles will, in a few moments, give
sparks an inch in length, and a Leyden battery may receive from it a charge.
The conducting power of the vapor suspended in the atmosphere, carrying
away a portion of the electricity of these piles from their poles, produces a con-
( tinual variation in the tension of the electricity at these points.
Zamboni found that the energy of the pile was greater in summer than in
winter, whether measured by the tension of the electricity at the poles, or the
rate at which the fluids were produced and propagated. M. Doune compared
the tension with the height of the barometer, but could discover no relation be-
tween them. He found the tension the same in a vacuum as under the pressure
of the atmosphere.
It is known that electricity may be developed on a plate of a single metal,
by causing one surface of the plate to be acted on chemically, in a degree or
manner different from the other surface. This may be effected by merely render-
ing one surface smooth and the other rough. This expedient is said to have been
resorted to in the construction of a Voltaic battery with one metal, without any
liquid element. From sixty to eighty plates of zinc, of four square inches of
surface, are made clean and polished on one side, the other remaining rough as
it comes from the mould. These are fixed in a wooden trough parallel to each
other, their polished surfaces all turned toward the same end of the trough, and ?
with an open space between the successive plates of from the tenth to the |
twentieth part of an inch. These intermediate spaces are filled by thin plates <
of atmospheric air. If one extremity of this apparatus be put in communica- J
tion with the ground, and the other with an electroscope, the latter will receive (
a very sensible charge.
We can regard the dry pile in no other light than as an extended \ oltaic (
series. The moisture, which is essential to its activity, is in the condition of (
anything but freedom of motion ; so that the renewal of contact by the pres-
ence of fresh particles, which seems essential in all developments of electrici-
ty, exists in the lowest degree ; and then again the feeble chemical actions ex-
isting between elements under circumstances so unfavorable, all conspire in
producing the small quantity of electricity for which these instruments are re-
) markable ; while the great length of series produces the high tension of the (
372
GALVANISM.
poles. It is only recently that chemical decomposition has been obtained by
the dry pile. Mr. Gassiot prepaired 10,000 Zamboni's disks ; and by carefully
directing the electricity through hydriodate of potassium on a slip of glass, he
obtained the development of iodine on the wire connected with the oxide of
manganese end of the series. He could not obtain heating effects on Harris's
thermo-electroscope, unless he allowed the charge to pass in sparks.
The only uses to which dry piles have been hitherto applied are — 1. To
produce a continued motion, by an electrical pendulum suspended between the
contrary poles of two such piles placed side by side, so that the positive pole
of one and the negative pole of the other shall be at the summit. This motion
will be continued as long as sufficient moisture is retained by the elements of
the piles to sustain their activity ; but it will not be regular, since the develop-
ment of electricity will be affected by variable atmospheric causes. 2. In con-
densing electrometers, to detect the presence of very small quantities of elec-
tricity on the inferior plate of the condenser.*
I shall conclude this notice of the progressive advancement of Voltaic elec-
tricity here. The phenomena and laws whose development followed the ex-
perimental researches which have been explained, will probably be noticed on a
future occasion, when I shall offer a view of the actual state of Voltaic elec-
tricity, its relations with magnetism and heat.
* Becquerel, TraitS de 1'Electricitg. torn, i., p. 166.
I
THE MOON AID THE WEATHER,
Ancient Prognosticsof Aristotle, Theophrastug, Aratns, Theon, Pliny, Virgil. — Recent Prediction*. —
Theory of Lunar Attraction not in accordance with popular Opinion. — Changes of Weather com-
pared with Changes of the Moon. — Prevalence of llain compared with Lunar Phases. — Direction
of the Wind. — Height of Barometer compared with Lunar Phases. — Erroneous Notions of Cyclei
of nineteen and nine Years. — Cycle of four and eight Years mentioned by Pliny.
-
r
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
375
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER,
THE physical laws which govern the phenomena of our atmosphere, and reg-
ulate the changes of the weather, have always been a favorite topic of specu-
lation. As the principles of astronomical science supplied means of predicting-,
with the highest possible degree of certainty and precision, the motions and
appearances of the heavenly bodies, it was not unnaturally expected that at-
mospherical phenomena might be brought under equally clear and certain rules.
The connexion of the lunar motions with the tides was apparent, long before
the mechanical influence by which the moon produced the rise and fall of the
waters of the ocean was explained ; and this gave countenance, at a very early
period, to the idea that that body had an influence on the atmosphere, if not as
certain and regular as on the waters, still sufficiently so to furnish probable
grounds for conjecture as to certain periodical changes.
But even before analogies of this kind could have furnished much ground for
reasoning, and when the heavenly bodies must have been regarded more as
signs than causes, meteorological phenomena were connected with them by
popular observation. The influence of climate on all the interests of a people
in a pastoral, and subsequently in an agricultural state, is obvious ; and accord-
ingly we find weather prognostics coming down by tradition from the most re-
mote antiquity. By a course, however, contrary to most other subjects of ob-
servation and inquiry, this was corrupted rather than improved with the progress
of knowledge and civilization ; and what was once a mere system of signs of
a certain present state of the atmosphere, indicating certain approaching changes,
was, by the craving of philosophy after the relations of cause and effect, con-
verted into the most absurd system of rules, having no foundation in nature,
never fulfilled by the phenomena except fortuitously, and maintaining their as-
cendency by the unbounded credulity of mankind.
In the writings of Aristotle, and, after him, in those of Theophrastus, Aratus,
Theon, and others, although meteorology is treated as a part of astronomy, or
astrology, it is easy to trace the simple views of the more ancient and less phi-
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
losophical observers, and to perceive that the appearances referred to were by
them regarded merely as signs, prognosticating (whether truly or not we shall
\ see presently) approaching changes, and not at all as physical causes effecting
c these changes.
; We shall limit ourselves to a few of the more remarkable and generally re-
< reived ancient meteorological maxims, as examples of the whole.
f' In the work of Aratus, entitled Aioff^fAS/a (prognostics'), and in the Scho-
lia of Theon, and elsewhere, the appearances of the moon in different phases
are described as prognosticating the weather for a certain time to come : —
5' oDr1 «£' flrarfiv sic' ij/jiao'i TTavra rirvxrau.
"AX.X' Otfa /JLSV TPITOCTTJ TETparaiTJ T6
ys (xsv
£X <5yf
5s oi aur
M^voj owroiyo/ASvou. APAT
Sin ortu quarto (namque is certissimus auctor),
Pura, neque obtusis per crelum cornibus ibit,
Totus et ille dies, et qui nascentur ab illo,
Exactum ad mensem pluvia ventisque carebunt.
VIRGIL, Georg., Lib. I., 1. 432.
If the horns of the lunar crescent on the third day after new moon are sharply
and clearly defined, the weather may be. expected to be fair during the ensuing
month.
Let us see how far this prognostic will stand the test of rational examina-
ion. The lunar crescent is produced by a peculiar relation of position which
subsists between the aspects of the moon presented to the sun and earth. If
only half the hemisphere which receives the sun's light be presented toward
the earth, the moon is exactly halved ; if a quarter of the hemisphere be turned
to the earth, the moon is crescent, and its age is then nearly four days. When
its age is less than two days, therefore, less that one eighth of its illuminated
lemisphere is presented to our planet, and consequently it appears a very thin
crescent. It is evident that these effects, if seen through perfectly transpa-
rent space, could not alter with circumstances, and that, in the same position
of the moon with respect to the earth and sun, the crescent must be at all times
equally sharp and distinct. But when the moon is viewed (as it is by us)
through an atmosphere that is from thirty to forty miles high — that atmosphere
jeing liable to be more or less loaded with imperfectly transparent vapors — it
will be seen with more or less distinctness, according to the varying transpa-
rency of the medium through which it is viewed. The fact, therefore, of the
crescent appearing distinct and well defined, or obscurely, with the points of
the horns blunted, is merely in consequence of our atmosphere being at one
time more pure, clear, and transparent, than at another.
When the moon is under three days old, it is only visible for a short time
after sunset, and therefore the phenomenon in question can only be observed in
the evening, a little above the western horizon. This prognostic of Aratus
may be thus translated : " When the atmosphere above the western horizon
' soon after sunset on the third day of the moon is serene, the weather will be
' fair for the remainder of the. month ; but if it be loaded with vapors, the con-
' trary event will ensue."
All the world, says Arago, will doubtless reject the prognostic when thus
stated ; nevertheless, the words only in which it is expressed are changed, the
meaning being absolutely the same.
But what shall be the import of this prognostic, if (as must frequently hap-
pen) the horns of the crescent, during the same evening, be at one time well,
and at another ill defined ; at one time sharp and distinct, at another time blunl
and confused ? Are we then to infer contradictory propositions ? Shall the
prognostic be true for both or false for both ? Another prognostic of Aratus is,
that if on the fourth day the moon project no shadow, we are to expect bad
weather during the month.
As we have already observed, the light of the moon, or rather the light of
the sun reflected from the moon, must in reality be the same, and would, in >
fact, always appear the same in like positions to an eye placed beyond the ^
limits of our atmosphere. The presence or absence of shadow is merely an ;
indication of a certain intensity of light, having reference to the sensibility of •
the human eye. That the moon in a certain phase should at one time produce, /
and at another time not produce a shadow, is, therefore, merely an indication that <
the atmosphere through which her light has passed is at one time more trans-
parent than another. Now as the pure atmosphere has always the same de-
gree of transparency, these varying effects can only proceed from the vapors
which are mixed with it ; and thus, as before, the moon in this case is only a
sign of a certain state of the air at a particular time, and in a particular direc-
tion. The fourth day of the moon is selected, because on that day, if the at-
mosphere be very free from vapors, the light of the crescent is just sufficient
to produce a shadow ; but if any considerable quantity of vapors be present in
the atmosphere, even though they should not constitute what is called a cloud,
they may impair its transparency so much as to deprive the faint light of the
lunar crescent of the power of producing a shadow. Thus, as in the former
case, the moon is here used as a meteorological instrument to ascertain the hu-
) midity of the air, and that only in the western direction, at or after sunset ; so
| that when translated into its true meteorological language, this prognostic is
equivalent to that to which we have just adverted.
Varro, as quoted by Pliny, gives the following meteorological maxim : — Nas-
cens Luna si cornua superior obatro surget, pluvias decrescent dal>it ; si infenore,
ante plenilunium ; si in media nigritia illafuent, imbrem in plena.
" If the new moon have its upper horn darkened, the declining moon will be
attended with rain ; if the new moon have its inferior horn darkened, there
will be rain before the full moon ; and if the middle of the crescent be dark-
ened, there will be rain at the full moon."
The obscurity here mentioned must, like those already alluded to, be produced
by the atmospheric vapors, rendering the medium through which the crescent is
beheld imperfectly transparent. If two lines be conceived to be drawn from
the eye of the observer in the direction of the points of the horns, and an inter-
mediate line toward the middle of the crescent, it will be evident that these lines
will diverge from one another very slightly. Now the obscurity of either the
upper or lower horn, or of the middle, the other parts being clear, would only
indicate the presence of imperfectly transparent vapor in the direction of one
of these lines, from which the others are free. To what, then, will this prog-
) nostic amount ? That if the highest of these lines happen to encounter, at any
point of the space which it traverses, a sufficient quantity of vaporous matter
to render the superior horn indistinct, rain may be expected toward the de-
cline of the moon ; if a like portion of vapor be found in the direction of the
middle Kne, from which the other two lines are free, rain may be expected at
the full of the moon ; and if the obscure vapor be in the direction of the line
to the lower horn, rain may be expected in the increase of the moon ! It is
presumed that the absurdity of all this is sufficiently glaring, but it will be ren-
dered more so if it be considered that, by the spectator changing his position
378 THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
through a distance of a few hundred yards, he may so place himself that the
vapor which obscures the upper horn in one position, will obscure the middle
in another, and the lower horn in the third. What then becomes of the pre-
diction ? Are we to infer that the same little portion of vapor suspended in )
the air will produce rain at three different times in the month, at three places
situated a short distance asunder ?
The truth is, that the ancient prognostics, whether derived from the moon,
from the sun, or from the stars, were, in the first instance, used legitimately as
mere indications of the state of the atmosphere by persons too simple-minded
and uneducated to trouble themselves much with the philosophy of cause and
effect ; but when these appearances came into the hands of philosophers, they
were at once elevated to the rank of physical causes, and their dominion ex-
tended in proportion to the dignity and importance thus conferred upon them.
Such notions were in keeping with a philosophy which made the moon the
boundary between corruption, change, and passiveness, on the one hand, and
the active powers of nature on the other. " Thus," says Horsley, " the uncer-
tain conclusions of an ill-conducted analogy, and false metaphysics, were mix-
ed with a few simple precepts, derived from observation, which probably made
the whole of the science of the prognostication in its earliest and purest state."
Although from age to age, the particular circumstances and appearances
connected with the moon, by which the atmospheric vicissitudes were prog-
nosticated, were changed, still the faith of mankind in general in her influence
on the weather has never been shaken ; and even the present day, when
knowledge is so widely diffused, and physical science brought, as it were, to
the doors of all who have the slightest pretension to education, this belief is
almost universal. Many, it is true, may discard predictions which affect to
define, from day to day, the state of the weather. There are few, however,
who do not. look for a change of the weather with a change of the moon. It is
a belief nearly universal, that the epochs of a new and full moon are in the
great majority of instances attended by a change of weather, and that the quar-
ters, though not so certain, are still epochs when a change may be probably ex-
pected. Those who have least faith in the meteorological influence of the moon,
extend their belief thus far.
There are two ways in which this question may be considered. It may be
asked whether, by the known principles of physics, the moon can have any,
and if any, what influence on our atmosphere 1 And whether that influence be
such as would cause a change of weather at the epochs of the principal pha-
ses ? Or, on the other hand, we may limit the inquiry to the m-are matter of
fact, and ask whether, by immediate observation, it has been found that the
epochs of the chief lunar phases have been, in the majority of instances, at-
tended by changes of weather ? or, to put the question more generally, wheth-
er any periodicity of atmospheric phenomena is actually observed to correspond
with the moon's phases.
It would seem at first view that neither of these inquiries could be attended
with any doubt or difficulty ; yet the case is quite otherwise. The former, in-
volving as it does the whole theory of the moon's attraction on our atmosphere, <
modified by a multitude of disturbing causes, is a physical problem as difficult i
and complicated as could well be propounded. Indeed, it is one, taken in its
most comprehensive form, which does not admit of solution in the present
state of physical science. The latter being merely a question of fact and ob-
servation, is not attended, properly speaking, with ultimate difficulty, but it is
one which would require a course of observation carefully and accurately con-
duct-ad, continued for a series of years. Such observations when skilfully ex-
amined and discussed, would furnish grounds for safe and certain conclusion.
THE MOON AND THE WEATHEE. 379
But such observations have not been carried to the necessary extent. If the ques-
tion of fact were, whether there be any obvious and glaring correspondence of
periodicity between the lunar phases and the atmospheric vicissitudes, 'it would
be instantly answered in the negative. For although we do not possess sufficient-
ly accurate and long-continued series of observations to decide the question wheth-
er the moon has any atmospheric influence, however small, we possess a sufficient
bcdy of ascertained facts to justify the conclusion that her influence is certain-
ly not considerable, and that, whatever be its amount, it is probably in a great
degree obliterated by the vast number of modifying and disturbing causes
which are constantly in action.
Let us consider for a moment the theoretical question. If the moon can act
upon our atmosphere by attraction, as she acts upon the waters of the ocean,
she will produce atmospheric tides, similar to those of the waters. The great-
er mobility of air will cause those tides to be formed more rapidly than the
water tides ; and it may be, perhaps, assumed that the tides of the atmosphere
will always be placed, either exactly, or very nearly under the moon. Thus,
is there is high water twice daily, so would there be high air twice daily ; and
'he times of this air tide would correspond with the moments of the transit of
•lie moon over the meridian above and below the horizon. ,
The same causes, also, which at new and full moon, produce spring tides,
wid at the quarters, neap tides, would produce spring and neap atmospheric
'.ides at the same epochs. At new and full moon, therefore, the air ought to
be higher, daily, at noon and midnight than at any other times during the
month ; and, on the other hand, at the quarters it ought to be lower.
If, then, the barometer be observed twice daily, viz., at the times of
the moon's transit over the meridian, above and below the horizon, it ought
(so far as it will be affected by the sun and moon) to be the highest at new
and full moon, and lowest at the quarters. Now as the rise of the barometer
generally indicates fair weather, and its fall foul weather, the conclusion to
which this would lead, would be, that the epochs of new and full moon should
be generally fair, while at the quarters bad weather would generally prevail.
This, however, is not the popular opinion. The traditional maxim is that a
change may be looked for at new and full moon ; that is, if the weather be
previously fair, it will become foul ; if previously foul, fair.
M. Arago has made an ingenious attempt at the evaluation of the very mi-
nute effect of what we have called atmospheric tides. To comprehend his rea-
soning it will only be necessary to consider that, at a new and full moon,
the sun and moon pass the meridian above and below the horizon together ;
and therefore, that high air, or atmospheric tides, must at these times take place
at noon and midnight ; low air would therefore occur about six, A. M., and six.
P. M. Thus so far as the attraction of the moon affects the atmosphere, the
barometer, which rises and falls as the atmosphere rises and falls, would be
affected by an ascending movement for six hours before noon and midnight,
I and for six hours after these times. But, when the moon is in the quarters,
) being then one fourth of the heavens removed, before or behind the sun, it will
J pass the meridian, whether above or below the horizon, about six hours later
1 or earlier than the sun. At the quarters, therefore, the atmospheric tides would
J occur about six, A. M., and six, P. M. Thus at the quarters the barometric
' column, so far as it is influenced by the moon's attraction, would be affected
! with a descending motion for about six hours after these times. It will be ev-
| ident, that if we were in a condition to estimate the amount of these baromet-
! ric movements, we should be at once in a condition to declare the amount of
' the lunar attraction on our atmosphere.
But these effects, if appreciable at all, are modified by at least one other in-
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
fluence, which has been the subject of certain and satisfactory observation.
There is a daily fluctuation in the barometric column, called the diurnal vari-
ation, which has an obvious relation to the apparent diurnal motion of the sun,
and which probably is caused by solar heat. It is observed that the baromet-
ric column falls daily, from nine in the morning till noon. In Europe, this
effect is frequently obliterated by other disturbing causes ; but ii is always ob-
servable when a mean is taken of observations, continued for any considerable
number of days. This diurnal variation will be combined with the effect of the
lunar attraction in the results of the observations. Now at a new and full
moon these causes produce contrary effects on the barometric column. Du-
ring the three hours preceding noon, the lunar attraction has a tendency to im-
part to it an ascending movement ; while, by reason of the diurnal variation, it
would have at the same time a descending movement ; the result would con-
sequently be the difftrcn.ee of the two effects. If the diurnal variations were
equal to the effects of the moon's attraction, the motions would neutralize each
other, and the column would be stationary ; but if they be unequal, the column
will ascend or descend by their difference. At the quarters these two effects
will conspire in producing a descending movement of the barometric col-
umn during those hours before noon, and the result of observation will be a
descent equal to the sum of the two effects.
Observations, therefore, made at and before noon at the times of new and
full moon, and at the quarters, ought to supply estimates of the sum and the
difference of these two physical effects ; and if such observations be continued
for a sufficient length of time, a mean estimate may be obtained from which the
effects of disturbing causes will be eliminated. M. Arago has applied this
method of investigation to a series of observations conducted for twelve years
in Paris, and he has found that the effect of the lunar attraction on the barom-
eters produced between the high and low states of the atmosphere, correspond-
ing to high and low water, cannot exceed the six hundredth part of an inch —
a quantity too small to be appreciated by any meteorological instruments, and,
certainly such as could produce no sensible effect on the atmosphere.
It is evident, then, that if the moon has any influence on our atmosphere,
it does not proceed from any cause analogous to that which produces the tides of
the ocean ; and therefore, that the fact, that the moon does produce such tides
can afford no countenance to her imputed meteorological influence.
But it may be said that although the moon may not affect the atmosphere by
her gravitation, yet she may influence it by her light, or by electrical or mag-
netical emanations, or, in fine, by some occult physical causes not yet discover-
ed by astronomers. This is an objection that, from its vagueness and indefi-
niteness, is difficult to be rebutted by any means which theory can furnish. It
is known that the light of the moon concentrated in a point by the most pow-
erful burning lenses, is incapable of producing the slightest sensible effect on
the most susceptible thermometer, neither is it found to produce any effects
of an electrical or magnetical kind. It may be assumed generally, ihat
the effects commonly imputed to the moon, in producing change of weatlur at
her principal phases, are so contradictory that it is impossible to imagine any
physical causes which could account for them. If the new and full moon ami
the quarters are attended by changes of the weather, the cause producing
this effect, under the same circumstances, has incompatible influences : it' lair
weather precede the phase, the supposed physical cause must be such as to be
capable of converting it into foul weather; and if foul weather precede the
phase, the same cause must convert it into fair weather. It will be admitted
that it is hard to imagine any physical agent whatever, which, under precisely
the same circumstances, shall produce upon the same body effects so opposite.
381
But let us dismiss the theoretical view of the question, and inquire as to the
facts. Has it been found, as a matter of fact, that the epochs which mark the
principal phases of the moon have been, in the majority of cases, attended with
a change of weather? Before this question can satisfactorily be answered, it
will be indispensable that the meaning of the phrase, change "of weather, be dis-
tinctly understood. An observer who is predisposed to a belief in the influ-
ence of the lunar phases, will consider himself warranted in classing as a
change of weather, every transition from a calm to a wind, whether feeble or
forcible — every change from a clear and serene firmament to one ever so little
clouded — from a firmament a little clouded to one quite covered over. He
will consider the change from a day absolutely free from rain to one in which
a few drops may chance to fall, as well entitled to be recorded as a change of
weather as if the transition had been from a day absolutely fair to one of in-
cessant rain. On the other hand, a disbeliever in the lunar influences will
class all very slight changes as settled weather, and will only register as chan-
ges those of a very decisive character. These are difficulties hard to remove,
but unless they be removed how is it possible to compare together, with any
probability of arriving at the truth, the records of different observers ? What
value or importance are we to attach to the results of any such observations,
unless the prejudices of the observer are admitted into our estimate ?
Toaldo has given the result of a comparison of observations continued for
forty-five years at Padua, in which changes of weather are recorded in juxta-
position with the lunar phases. Without detailing the particulars of these
calculations, we may state at once the following results of them. He found
that for every seven new moons the weather changed at six and was settled only
at one ; for every six full moons the weather changed at five and was settled
at one ; for every three epochs of the quarters there were two changes of
weather.
He also examined the state of the weather in reference to the moon's dis-
tance from the earth, which is subject to some variation. The position
of the moon when most distant from the earth is called apogee, and her posi-
tion when nearest is called perigee. He found that of every six passages of
the moon through pe.rigee there were five changes of weather ; and of every five
through apogee there were four changes of weather. It is clear that if those
results would bear the test of rigid examination, they would be decisive in fa-
vor of the popular notion of the influence of the lunar phases. But let us see
in what manner Toaldo conducted his inquiry.
He was himself an avowed believer in the lunar influence, not merely upon
the atmosphere, but even on the state of organized matter. In his memoir he
has not informed us what atmospherical changes he has taken as changes
of weather ; and it is fair to presume that the bias of his mind would lead him
to class the slightest vicissitudes under this head. But, further, Toaldo, in
recording the changes of weather coinciding with the epochs of the phases,
did not confine himself to changes which took place upon the particular day
of the phase. On the pretext that time must be allowed for the physi-
cal cause to produce its effect, he took the results- of several days. At the
new and full moon he included in his enumeration all changes which took
place two or three days before or two or three days after the day of new or
full moon ; while for the quarters he only included the day preceding and the
day following the phases ; and for epochs not coincident with the innar pha-
ses he only counted the changes of weather which took place on the particular
day in question.
It appears, then, that by the changes coinciding with a new and full moon
recorded by Toaldo are understood any changes occurring within the space of
382 THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
from three to five days ; for the changes recorded at the quarters are to be un- \>
derstood those which occurred within the space of two or three days ; and for I
those not coinciding with the phases the changes which occurred on a particu- >
lar day. It will not, we presume, require much mathematical sagacity to per- '
ceive that the results of such an inquiry must have been just what Toaldo found
them to be ; and that if instead of taking the epochs of the lunar phases he had
taken any other periods whatsoever, and tried them by the same test, he would
have arrived at the same results. Five days at the new and full moon would \
include rather more than a third of the entire lunar month ; and thus a third of
all the changes of weather which occurred in that period were ascribed by To-
aldo to the lunar influence at these epochs.
Professor Pilgrim has examined a series of observations on the lunar phases j
as connected with the changes of weather, made at Vienna, and continued from (
1763 to 1787 — a period of 25 years — and he has found that, of every him- (
dred cases of the phases, the proportion of the occurrence of changes to that
of the settled state of the weather was as follows : —
Changes. Settled Weather.
New moon 58 42
Full moon 63 37
Quarter 63 37
Perigee 72 28
Apogee 64 36
New moon at perigee 80 20
New moon at apogee 64 36
Full moon at perigee 81 19
Full moon at apogee 68 32
Admitting these results, it would follow, contrary to popular belief and to the
observations of Toaldo, that the new moon is the least active of the phases ; and
that the full moon and quarters are equally active ; also that the influence of
perigee, or the nearest position of the moon, is greater than than that of any of
the phases, while the influence of apogee, or its greatest distance, is equal to
that of the quarters and full moon, and greater than that of the new moon.
But Pilgrim's calculations are liable to objections similar to those to which
Toaldo's are obnoxious. Like Toaldo, he included in his enumerations of
changes, corresponding to the phases, changes which occurred the days pre-
ceding and following the phases : this being the case, the only wonder is that
the proportion which he has found, especially for the new moon, is not more
favorable to his hypothesis. But independently of this, Pilgrim's results are
not entitled to any confidence : they bear internal evidence of their inaccuracy;
and besides, the observations were not continued for a sufficient length of time
to give a safe and certain conclusion.
In the years 1774 and 1775, Dr. Horsley directed his attention to the
question, and published two papers in the Phi/.osophical Transactions (to which
we have already adverted), with a view to dispel the popular prejudice on the
subject of lunar influences. Horsley's observations, however, were confined to so
short a period of time (two years) that they could not be expected to afibrd any
satisfactory results. He. found that in the year 1774 there were only two
changes of weather which corresponded with the new moon, and none with
the full moon ; and that in the year 1775 there were only four changes which
corresponded with the new moon, and three with the full moori.
Dismissing, then, this popular notion of the correspondence of changes of
the weather with the lunar phases, let us consider the question of lunar influ-
ences in a more general point of view, and see whether observation has sup-
plied any ground for the supposition of any relation of periodicity between the
moon and the weather. M. Schubler examined this question with considera-
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
ble care so recently as 1830, and published the results of his observations,
which, shortly after, were re-examined by M. Arago.
Schubler's calculations were founded on meteorological observations made
at Munich, Stutgard, and Augsburg, for twenty-eight years.* His object \\;is
to ascertain whether any correspondence existed between the lunar phases and
the quantity of rain which fell in different parts of the month. He defined a
rainy day to be one in which a fall of rain or snow was recorded in the mete-
orological journals, provided it affected the rain gauge to an extent exceeding
the six hundredth part of an inch. The following are the results of his obser-
vations of the number of wet days which occurred in each quarter ef the
month, and in each half of the month.
From the new moon to the first quarter.. .
Fron. the first quarter to the full moon.. . .
From the full moon to the last quarter. . . .
From the last quarter to the new moon. . .
Number of wet Days.
Wtihin
20
Years.
From
1809
to
1812.
From
' 1813
to
1816.
From
1817
to
1820.
From
1831
to
1824.
From (
18*5 (
to (
1828. (
764
845
761
696
132
145
124
110
142
169
145
139
145
173
162
135
179
180
166
153
166
178
164
159
1609
1457
277
237
311
284
318
297
359
319
344 $
323 I
152
43
27
21
40
21 j
M. Schiibler also calculated the number of rainy days which happened upon (
the days of the principal phases, including not merely days of new and full
moons, and the quarters, but also the days of the octants intermediate between
these. The following table includes the results at which he arrived ; first for
twenty years' observation and then for the whole period of twenty-eight years. He
took at each phase the mean of two consecutive days, with a view to obliterate
the effect of disturbing causes, and obtain a more regular series of numbers : —
(
>
Number of wet Days.
During 20 Years. |i During 28 Yeara-
On
the
Mean 1 1 On
of 4 U,«
Daya. 1 1 Day.
Mean
oft
Dayt.
105
113
109 1! i48
1( |! 148
148
119
115
117 ll 152
117 || 148
150
On the succeeding day
111
113
112 II 156
II 151
153
124
128
126 li 164
126 || 167
165
116
113
115 II m
II 161
161
255
On the succeeding day
125
109
117 || m
On the succeeding day
92
96
II 130
94 I] 140
m
, On the succeeding day
100
88
94
II I38
II 139
133 >
On the succeeding day
1
I
* At Munich, from 1781 to 1788 inclusive; at Stutgard, from 1809 to 1812 inclusive ; and at Autr.i-
burg, from 1813 to 1S28 iitclusive.
These tables agree in indicating, with tolerable clearness, an increase of the
number of rainy days from the new moon to the second octant, that is, from
the day of the new moon to the eleventh day of the moon's age ; after- i
ward there is a gradual decrease, the minimum occurring between the last
quarter and the fourth octant.
So far as these observations may be relied upon, it would follow, that in the
places where they were made, out of every 10,000 rainy days the following are
the number of those days which would happen at the different lunar phases :-- •
New moon 306
First octant 306
First quarter 325
Second octant 341
Full moon 337
Third octant 313
Last quarter 284
Fourth octant 290
Now as there are twenty-nine days and a half in the lunar month, if we sup-
pose the fall of rain to be distributed equally through every part of the month, the
total number of these 10,000 days which should happen on the eight days of t.he
phases, would be found by a simple proportion ; since it would bear to 1 0,000
the same proportion that 8 bears to 29^ : the number would therefore be 27.12.
Whereas, it appears from the above table, that the actual number which fell
upon these days were 25.02 : it appears, therefore, that less than the propor-
tional c mount occurred upon them.
Pilgrim had already, in 1788, attempted to ascertain the influence of the
lunar phases on the fall of rain ; and he found that in every hundred cases i
there were 29 days of rain on the full moon, 26 at the new moon, and 25 at t
the quarters.
The preceding observations refer only to the number of wet days. Schubler,
however, also directed his inquiries to the influence of the lunar phases, on
the quantity of rain and on the clearness of the atmosphere. From observa-
tions continued for sixteen years at Augsburg, including 199 lunations, he ob-
tained the following results : —
Epochs.
Number of clear days
in 16 years.
Number of overcast days
in 16 years.
Quantity of rain in 16
years in inches.
New moon
31
61
26-551
38
57
24-597
Second octant
25
65
26-728
26
61
24-686
Last quarter. . ,
41
53
19-536
In this table, by a clear day, is such days as exhibited a cloudless sky at
s-even in the morning, and at two and nine o'clock in the afternoon ; those that
were not clear at these hours, were counted as cioudy days. These results
are in accordance with the former. It appears that the number of clear days
is more frequent in the last quarter, which is an epoch at which, by the former
method of inquiry, the number of rainy days was least ; also the number of
cloudy days is greatest at the second octant, which is a period at which the
number of rainy days were found to be greatest ; also the depth of rain agrees
with this, being the greatest about the second octant, and least at the last quar-
ter. Schubler extended his inquiries to the influence of the moon's distance
on rain ; and he found that, on examining 371 passages of the moon through
the positions of her extreme limits of distance, during the seven days nearest
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
3S 5
to perigee it rained 1,169 times; and during the seven days nearest apogee it
rained 1,096 times. Thus, cateris paribus, the nearer is the moon to the earth
the greater would be the chances for rain.
From observations of Pilgrim at Vienna (which, however, are much less to
be depended on), it appears that the proportion of the prevalence of rain be-
tween perigee and apogee is that of nine to five — an improbable result.
From all that has been stated, it can scarcely be denied that there exists
some permanent and regular correspondence between the prevalence of rain
and the phases of the moon. What that exact correspondence is, remains for
more extended and accurate observations to inform us ; meanwhile, that rain
falls more frequently about four days before full moon, and less frequently about
four or five days before new moon than at other parts of the month, seems to
be a conclusion attended, to say the least with some degree of probability.
Schubler also examined the question of a correspondence between the di-
rection of the wind and the lunar phases, and found that winds from the south
and southwest, became more and more frequent at those periods of the month
at which rain was also observed to increase, and that such winds were more
and more rare, while winds in the contrary direction occurred oftener toward
those epochs of the month when least rain was observed to prevail. These
results, it will be seen, are quite in accordance, and the question respecting
the mode of action by which the periods of rain are produced, would be re- <
duced to the question t»f the physical action by which the moon affects the
currents of the atmosphere.
The connexion of barometric indications with atmospheric phenomena is so
obvious, that the inquiry as to a correspondence between the lunar phases and
the variations of the barometer, could scarcely escape the attention of meteo-
rologists. M. Flaugergues accordingly made a series of observations at Viviers
(in the department of Ardeche), in France, which were continued from 1808
to 1828, a period of twenty years, on the heights of the barometer in relation
to the lunar phases : that the influence of the sun might be always the same,
the observations were made at noon, and the heights of the barometer were
reduced to what they would be at the temperature of melting ice. The fol-
lowing are the mean heights of the barometer, deduced from these observa-
tions : —
New moon 29*743
First octant 29-761
First quarter 29-740
Second octant 29-716
Full moon 29-736
Third octant 29-751
Last quarter 29-772
Fourth octant 29-744
Hence it appears that the height of the barometer is least about four days
before full moon, and greatest six or seven before new moon. Now these are
about the times at which the investigations of Schubler give the greatest and
least quantity of rain : and, since the fall of the barometer generally indicates
i a tendency to rain, these results are in accordance. Although it must be ad-
' milted that the variation of the barometer is in this case so minute, that a sen-
sible effect could hardly be expected from it, still, though minute, it is quite
listinct and decided.
M. Flaugergues also observed the mean height of the barometer when the
t noon was at her greatest and least distance from the earth, and found that at
perigee it was 29-713, and at apogee 29-753.
So, far, therefore, as this small difference can be supposed to indicate any-
35
thing, it would indicate a prevalence to rain at perigee and at apogee, which is
in accordance with the observations of Schubler.
" In spite, therefore," says M. Arago, " of the distance which separates Stutgard
from Viviers, and ia spite of the different methods pursued, and the difference
of instruments used, MM. Flaugergues and Schubler have arrived at analogous
results." It seems very difficult, therefore, at present, not to admit that the
moon exercises upon our atmosphere an action very small, it is true, but which
is nevertheless appreciable even with the instruments which meteorologists
commonly use.
We have shown that the theory of the moon's attraction, applied to explain
atmospheric tides similar to those of the ocean, would lead to the conclusion
that the height of the barometer observed at noon, when the moon is in her
quarters, would be less than its height at noon at new and full moon. Obser-
vation, however, shows the very reverse as a matter of fact. The observation
of M. Flaugergues gives the mean height at the barometer quadratures 29-756,
and at new and full moon 29- 739 ; the height quadratures being in excess to
the amount of 0'017. This result has been further confirmed by the more recent
observations of M. Bouvard, at the Paris observatory : he has found the mean
height of the barometer at the quarters 29-786, and at new and full moon
29-759 ; the excess at the quarters being 0*027.
Although, therefore, it cannot be denied that there exists a relation between
the barometric column and the lunar phases, yet it is not the relation which
the theory of atmospheric tides would indicate ; and by whatever physical in-
fluence the effect may be produced, it is certainly not the gravitation of the
moon affecting our atmosphere in a manner analogous to that by which she af-
fects the waters of the ocean. Any physical effects which depend on the rel-
ative positions of the sun and moon, as seen from the earth, would necessarily
occur in the same order throughout the year, when these two luminaries them-
selves have corresponding positions in the heavens on the same days of the
year. At a very early period in the history of astronomical discovery, it was
known that, after the lapse of nineteen years, the sun and moon assume on suc-
cessive days of the year relative positions.
Thus, for example, if the moon were 90° behind the sun on a certain
day of a certain month in the year 1800, it would be 90° behind the sun on
the same day of the same month in the year 1819, and again in the year 1838,
and so on ; but on the same day of the same month in any intermediate year
it would have a different relative position with respect to the sun. This cycle
of nineteen years was known to the Greeks, and was called the Mctonic cycle,
from Melon, its reputed discoverer ; and it has always been used as a conve-
nient method of calculating eclipses and other phenomena depending on the
relative positions of the sun and moon. In a solar eclipse, the sun and moon
must occupy nearly the same position in the heavens ; and in a lunar eclipse,
nearly opposite positions : it is evident, therefore, that if an eclipse occur on
any day in any given year, an eclipse of the same kind must occur on the cor-
responding day in every nineteenth succeeding year. The tides, depending as
they do on the relative positions of the sun and moon, would be calculated
with facility by means of the same cycle ; and meteorologists who hold the
doctrine that atmospheric vicissitudes depend solely or chiefly upon the rela-
tive aspects of the sun and moon, have favored the doctrines, that there is a
general cycle of weather, the period of which corresponds with that which we
have noticed. Thus they hold, that the general changes of weather succeed
each other in the same, or almost the same order, throughout every successive
period of nineteen years.
We shall not here object, on theoretical grounds, to the doctrine that the true
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER,
387
amount of the Metonic cycle is not precisely nineteen years. But it is sub-
ject to a stronger objection founded on the principles which its supporters
themselves rely upon. The attraction of bodies in virtue of their gravitation,
increases in the same proportion as the square of the distance diminishes ; and
as we have already stated that the moon's distance from the earth is variable to
an extent not inconsiderable, it is evident, that her influence on the atmosphere
ought to be expected to depend much more on that variation of distance, than
on her relative position with respect to the sun. Now, although the cycle of
nineteen years corresponds with the changes of her relative position to the sun
as seen from the earth, yet it has no correspondence whatever with the varia-
tion of her distance ; and although, on each day of each succeeding period of
'nineteen years, she will have the same apparent position relatively to the sun,
she will not have the same distance from the earth, and, therefore, will not ex-
ert the same attraction on our atmosphere. Seeing, then, that the theory of the
moon's attraction does not lend its unqualified support to this assumed period
of nineteen years as a cycle of weather, let us see how far fact and ob-
servation countenance such a meteorological period. M. Arago (to whom
we are indebted for the most complete investigation of this question, and for
the collection of the labors of others upon it) has successfully shown that
observation affords no countenance or confirmation whatever to this hypothe-
sis.
It has been said that the years 1701, 1720, 1739, and 1758, being cor-
responding years in successive intervals of nineteen years, show in the differ-
ent months the same characters of weather. Now to try this fact, it will be
necessary to adopt some distinct test of the characters of the seasons which has
nothing in it arbitrary, and about which two observers cannot differ. For this
purpose we shall take the highest and lowest temperature observed in each
ol the years, and the annual quantity of rain which fell in them respectively : —
Dates.
1701
1720.
1739 ,
1758 ,
Temp. Max.
...90-5
...89-5
...92-7
...93-9
Temp. Min.
27-5...
29-3...
28-6...
27-3
Rain, inches.
22-7
18-3
, 20-4
Such is the kind of congruity on which the advocates for the Metonic cycle
rely. If any four years were taken indiscriminately at any given places, the
extremes of temperature and quantities of rain could scarcely be expected to
exhibit greater differences. M. Arago had extended the comparison to other
seasons separated by the same interval of nineteen years, or by multiples
of nineteen years.
Years.
Max. Temp.
Min. Temp.
Annual quantity
of rain in inches.
1725
1782
88-2
90-5
24-6
7-2
18-6
23-5
1709
1728
87-1
87-1
5-8
16-9
23-2
17-2
1710
1748
83-1
98-4
7-3
9-3
16-9
18-4
1711
1730
85-3
' 88-2
14-9
19-6
26-8
17-0
1733
1771
90-5
92.7
28-2
9-1
19-6
19-2
1734
1753
89-4
100-6
23-0
11.3
18-7
18-9
388
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
There are here no traces of correspondence in the extremes of temperature,
or the quantities of rain. It is manifest that any season taker; at hazard would
not present greater discordances than are found in the above table.
The variation of the moon's distance from the earth (to which we have more
than once adverted) is occasioned by the fact that her path round the earth is
not circular, but oval — the position of the earth being nearer to the one end
than the other. As the moon, therefore, approaches the furthermost extremity
of her oval orbit, her distance from the earth continually increases until, arri-
ving at that point, it becomes greatest ; as she moves from that extremity of the
orbit to the other end of the oval, her distance continually diminishes until ar-
riving at the other end, it becomes least. These variations of distance are
produced every revolution of the moon round the earth. Now, owing to a*
certain change of position, to which the moon's orbit is subject, the points which
mark her greatest and least distances are subject to a slow, gradual, and regu-
lar change. ; so that the points in the heavens at which she reaches her great-
est and least distances are different every revolution. After the lapse, how-
ever, of eight years and ten months, these points having traversed the whole
circumference of the heavens, resume their former position very nearly ; so
that the actual times at which the moon is observed at the same distances from
the earth, and also at the same points in the heavens, recur in a cycle, the
length of which is about eight years and ten months.
So far, therefore, as the vicissitudes of the weather can be supposed to be
influenced by this cause, their period should be such that, after the lapse of
nine years, the corresponding states of the weather would be, as it were, two
mo;iths in advance : thus the effect produced in December, 1800, would again
be produced in October, 1809, in August, 1818, and so on.
If the purpose be to determine the cycle in which the lunar influence, so far
as it depends on distance, would produce the same effects upon the same days
of the year, the duration of the cycle would be six times eight years and ten
months : for in six successive intervals of that period, there are exactly fifty-
three years ; but any less number of periods of eight years and ten months do
not make a complete number of years. Therefore after a cycle of fifty-three
years, the moon being on the same day of each successive year at the same
distance from the earth, her influence, so far as«depends on distances, will be
ti\3 same, and will produce the same effect upon the weather.
Now we cannot better illustrate the loose and inaccurate manner in which sci-
entific principles are applied by some meteorologists than by stating that this cy-
cle of eight years and ten months has formed the theoretical grounds for a re-
puted meteorological period of nine years. It has been maintained that,
through every successive interval of nine years, the changes of weather have
a general correspondence : thus, if the state of the weather throughout the
year 1800 be examined, it has been said to correspond with the weather
throughout the years 1809, and 1818, &c.
That the changes in the positions of the points of the moon's greatest and
least distance are insufficient in theory to account for such meteorological cy-
cle as we have explained. But let us see how the fact stands.
Toaldo, whose meteorological researches we have adverted to, has stated,
that at Padua, by resolving a long interval of time into successive periods of
nine years, the quantities of rain collected in each of these periods were equal,
but he adds this equality would disappear if the whole interval were resolved
into groups of eight years, or into successive intervals of any other number of
years. M. Arago, taking the Italian meteorologist at his word, and accepting
without question, his own tables and data, has given the following estimate of
the quantity of rain which had fallen in successive intervals of nine years : —
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
389
In the nine years
commencing in
1725
... to ....
And ending
inclusively in
1733
Rain whirh had
fallen at Padua.
inches.
ii
H
inches.
<c
(C
From 1734
... to . ...
1742
From 1743
... to ....
1751
320 "
From 1752
1760
333 «
From 1761
... to ....
1769
320 "
From 1699
... to ....
1707
Paris gives
1716
166 "
From 1717
. . . . to ....
1725
... to . . . .
1734
] 25 "
. . . . to
1743
139 "
From 1744..
. to .
..1752..,
. . 160 "
The confidence to which Toaldo's reasoning and calculations are entitled,
may be estimated by comparing the quantities of rain which fall in any other
intervals, from which it will be seen that it is not subject to greater, variation
than that which exists among the above results.
M. Arago gives some amusing examples of the kind of speculation and rea-
soning in which meteorologists sometimes indulge. Some, he says, found the
assumed cycle of nine years on the passage of Pliny, where he says that every
fourth, and, more especially, every eighth year, the seasons undergo a kind of
effervescence by the revolution of the hundredth moon. Admitting Pliny's
maxim to be true, and supposing by the word effervescence we are to under-
stand a regular recurrence every eight years of the changes of the weather
which took place in the preceding eight years, what are we to conclude 1 Is
not the question here, whether the vicissitudes of weather recur at intervals
of nine years ? and the celebrated Roman naturalist speaks of a period of only
eight years.
From all that has been stated, it follows, then, conclusively, that the popular
notions concerning the influence of the lunar phases on the weather have no
foundation in the theory, and no correspondence with observed facts. That
the moon, by her gravitation, exerts an attraction on our atmosphere cannot be
doubted ; but the effects which that attraction would produce upon the weather
are not in accordance with observed phenomena ; and, therefore, these effects
are either too small in amount to be appreciable in the actual state of meteor-
ological instruments, or they are obliterated by other more powerful causes,
from which hitherto they have not been eliminated. It appears, however, by
some series of observations, not yet confirmed or continued through a sufficient
period of time, that a slight correspondence may be discovered between the
periods of rain and the phases of the moon, indicating a very feeble influence,
depending on the relative position of that luminary to the sun, but having no (
discoverable relation to the lunar attraction. This is not without interest as a (
subject of scientific inquiry, and is entitled to the attention of meteorologists ;
but its influence is so feeble that it is altogether destitute of popular interest as
a weather prognostic. It may, therefore, be stated that, as far as observation
combined with theory has afforded any means of knowledge, there are no
grounds for the prognostications of weather erroneously supposed to be derived
from the influence of the sun and moon.
Those who are impressed with the feeling that an opinion so universally en-
tertained even in countries remote from each other, as that which presumes an
influence of the moon over the changes of the weather, will do well to remem-
ber that against that opinion we have not here opposed mere theory. Nay. we
have abandoned for the occasion the support that science might afford, and the
light it might shed on the negative of this question, and have dealt with it as a
mere question of fact. It matters little, so far as this question is concerned, i
390
THE MOON AND THE WEATHER.
in what manner the moon and sun may produce an effect on the weather, nor
even whether they he active causes in producing such effect at all. The point,
and the only point of importance is, whether, regarded as a mere matter of fact,
any correspondence between the changes of the moon and those of the weather
exists? And a short examination of the recorded facts proves that IT DOES
XOT.
PERIODIC COMETS.
Enckc's Comet. — It? Period arid Orbit. — How its Motion shows the Existence of a resistii g Me-
dium.— This Result corroborated by the Theory of Light. — Newton's Conjectures resj ecting
Comet*. — Bit-la's Comet. — Its Period and Orbit. — Lexell's Comet. — Causes of its Appearance and
DisapiMjarance. — Whiston's Comet. — His Theory. — Did this Comet produce the Deluge? — Orbit
of this Comet. *
PERIODIC COMETS. 393
PERIODIC COMETS.
O.v another occasion, I gave at some length the history of Halley's comet,
by far the most interesting of all the periodic comets yet discovered. I shall
now bring under your notice the remaining bodies of this class.
A periodic comet, as the name implies, is one which is known to return at
regular intervals to our system, and whose reappearance in the heavens can
therefore be predicted. The paths of these bodies round the sun are eccentric
ellipses, having the centre of the sun in one of their foci. /
ENCKE'S COMET.
In the year 1818, a comet was observed at Marseilles, on the 26th of No-
vember, by M. Pons. In the following January, its path being calculated, M.
Arago immediately recognised it as identical with one which had appeared in
1805. Subsequently, M. Encke of Berlin succeeded in calculating its entire
orbit — inferring the invisible from the visible part — and found that its period
round the sun was about twelve hundred days. This calculation was verified
by the fact of its return in 1822, since which time the comet has gone by the
name of Encke's comet, and returned regularly.
This comet exhibited the appearance of a mass of nebulous vapor, so trans-
parent, even at its centre, that stars can be seen through it. It is round, or
rather oval, in its form, and is too attenuated and feeble in its light to be dis-
covered without the aid of a telescope. The annexed figure, 1, is that which is
usually given as a representation of its telescopic appearance.
The orbit of Encke's comet is an oval, whose length is about double its
breadth. At its nearest approach to the sun, the distance of the comet is about
thirty-four millions of miles, which is about the distance of the planet Mercury
When most remote from the sun, its distance is about four hundred and forty-
three millions of miles, which is nearly four and a half times the earth's dis-
tance, and is little less than the distance of Jupiter. The orbit is inclined to
that of the earth at nearly thirteen degrees. This comet may be considered
as a planet, revolving within the orbit of Jupiter, and nearly in the common
plane of the solar system. Its motion is in the same direction as that of the
planets.
In the calculations of Encke for the determination of the movement of this
comet, the most scrupulous account was taken of the effects which the planets
must produce upon it. Nevertheless, a small discrepancy was found to exist
between its observed and computed returns ; and what was sull more remark-
able, this discrepancy was of the same nature in every case, so that it is im-
possible to suppose that it could have arisen from any casual error of compu-
tation or of observation ; since, had it so occurred, it would have affected the
result irregularly. We must therefore conclude that this comet does not pre-
cisely retrace its course each revolution. It is found, however, that this irregu-
larity, from whatever cause it may proceed, does not disturb the plane of the
comet's p^ath. It is, in fact, according to the observations and reasonings of
Professor Encke, precisely the effect which would be produced if the space
through which the comet moves was filled by a subtle fluid, offering a small
resistance to the motion of the comet : just as our atmosphere resists the motion
of any light body through it.
The existence of an extremely subtle ethereal fluid which fills the infini-
tude of space, has been adopted hypothetically to explain the phenomena of
optics. In fact, light itself is, according to the undulatory theory, supposed to
consist in vibrations transmitted through such a fluid, just as sound is known
to consist in similar undulations transmitted through the atmosphere. Hith-
erto this assumed cause for light has been justly regarded as an ingenious hy-
pothesis not proved, but which accounts for the various phenomena more fully
and satisfactorily than the corpuscular theory, which, being open to the same
objection, completely fails when applied to some phenomena of light which
recent investigations have developed. If an effect similar to that which has
been observed in Encke's comet should be discovered on the approaching re-
turn of Halley's comet, and still more, if it be observed on the next return of
Biela's comet, the undulatory hypothesis will begin to assume the character of
a vera causa ; and that theory of light must, under such circumstances, be con-
sidered as established.
The effect on the return of a comet produced by this resistance, contrary to
what might at lirst be expected, is to accelerate it, or to make the actual re-
turn anticipate the return as computed on the supposition that the comet moves
in an unresisting medium. This difficulty will, however, be removed, if it be
remembered that a resisting medium, by diminishing the velocity of the body
in its orbit, diminishes the influence of the centrifugal force to resist solar at-
traction. The body, therefore, follows a path consiantly nearer to the sun ; in
other words, the orbit is in a progressive state of diminution. Now, the less
the orbit is, the less time necessary to describe it ; and consequently the shorter
the period of the successive returns of the body to the same position.
If the successive returns of the periodic comets should establish satisfacto-
rily the existence of the luminous ether, it will follow that after the lapse of a
certain time every comet will ultimately fall into the sun. In every succeed-
ing revolution of the same comet, its path would fall a little within its former
course, and it woujd describe a spiral line round the sun, continually approach-
ing that body, until at length it would arrive close to its surface ; before this
could happen, it would doubtless be wholly converted into a light gas by his
heat, which would probably mingle with the solar atmosphere.
In the efforts by which the human mind labors after truth, it is curious to
observe how often that desired object is stumbled upon by accident, or arrived
at by reasoning which is false. One of Newton's conjectures respecting com-
ets was, that they are " the aliment by which suns are sustained ;" and he
therefore concluded that these bodies were in a state of progressive decline
upon the suns, round which they respectively swept ; and that into these suns
they from time to time fell. This opinion appears to have been cherished by
Newton to the latest hours of his life : he not only consigned it to his immor-
tal writings, but, at the age of eighty-three, a conversation took place between
him and his nephew on this subject, which has come down to us. " I cannot
say," said Newton, " when the comet of 1680 will fall into the sun : possibly
after five or six revolutions ; but whenever that time shall arrive, the heat of
the sun will be raised by it to such a point, that our globe will be burnt, and
all the animals upon it will perish. The new stars observed by Hipparchus,
Tycho, and Kepler, must have proceeded from such a cause, for it is impossi-
ble otherwise to explain their sudden splendor." His nephew then asked him,
" why, when he stated in his writings that comets would fall into the sun, did
he not also slate those vast fires they must produce, as he supposed they had
done in the stars ?" — " Because," replied the old man, " the conflagrations of
the sun concern us a little more directly. I have said, however," added he,
smiling, " enough to enable the world to collect my opinion."
It may be asked, if the existence of a resisting medium be admitted, whether
the same ultimate fate must not await the planets ? To this inquiry it may be
answered that, within the limits of past astronomical record, the ethereal me-
dium, if it exist, has had no sensible effect on the motion of any planet. That
it might have a perceptible effect upon comets, and yet not upon planets, will
not be surprising, if the extreme lightness of the comets compared with their
bulk be considered. The effect in the two cases may be compared to that of
the atmosphere upon a piece of swan's down and upon a leaden bullet moving
through it. It is certain that whatever may be the nature of this resisting me-
dium, it will not, for many hundred years to come, produce the slightest per-
ceptible effect upon the motions of the planets.
BIELA'S COMET.
On February 28, 1826, M. Biela, an Austrian officer, observed in Bohemia
a comet, which was seen at Marseilles about the same time by M. Gambart.
The path which it pursued was observed to be similar to that of comets which
had appeared in 1772 and 1806. Finally, it was found that this body moved
96
PERIODIC COMETS.
und the sun in an oval orbit, and that the time of its revolution was about six
ears and eight months. It has since returned at its predicted times ; and has
>een adopted as a member of our system, under the name of Biela's comet.
The annexed diagram, fig. 2, exhibits the form and position of the orbit of this
omet in relation to those of the principal planets, giving the successive posi-
ons it assumed during its appearance in 1832.
Fig. 2.
Biela's comet moves in an orbit whose plane is nearly the same with those
of the planets. It is but slightly oval, the length being to the breadth in the
proportion of about three to two. When nearest to the sun, its distance is
nearly equal to that of the earth ; and when most remote from the sun, its dis-
tance soiyewhat exceeds that of Jupiter. Thus it ranges through the solar
system, between the orbits of Jupiter and the earth.
Notwithstanding the discovery of the periodic comets of Encke and Biela,
still the comet of Halley maintains a paramount astronomical interest, and may
be considered to stand alone in exhibiting those physical phenomena which
seem to be the exclusive characteristics of the class to which it belongs. Al-
though the cornets of Encke and Biela are unquestionably objects of interest to
the geometer and astronomer, yet their short periods, the limited space within
which they are circumscribed in their motion, the small obliquity and eccen-
tricity of their orbits, and consequently the very slight disturbance which they
sustain from the attraction of the planets, render them, for all physical purposes,
nothing more than new planets of inappreciable mass belonging to our system.
Unlike other known comets, they do not rush from the invisible and inacessible
depths of space, and, after sweeping our system, depart to distances under
the conception of which the imagination itself is confounded ; they possess
uone of that grandeur which is connected with whatever appears to break
through the fixed order of the universe. It is still reserved for the comet of
Halley alone to exhibit a phenomenon, so far as we know, unique ; to afford a
splendid result of those powers of calculation by which we are enabled to follow
it through the depths of space two thousand millions of miles beyond the ex-
treme verge of the solar system ; and, notwithstanding disturbances which
render each succeeding period of its return different from the last, to foretell
that return with precision.
LEXELL'S COMET.
In the month of June, 1770, Messier observed a comet, which was after-
ward sufficiently observed to render its course through the system calculable.
It was found not to correspond with that of any comet previously known. It
remained visible for an unusual length of time ; and continued observations on
it proved that it moved, not as comets were then generally found to move, in a
parabola, or very elongated ellipse, but in an oval of very small dimensions.
Its orbit was calculated by the celebrated Lexell, and found to be an ellipse,
of which the greater axis was only equal to three times the diameter of the
earth's orbit, which showed that its periodical revolution round the sun would
be completed in jive years and a half,
With so short a period, the comet ought frequently to be seen. But here
springs up a difficulty. This comet was never seen before, and has never
been seen since ! What, then, has become of it ? and where and how did it
exist before its discovery by Messier ? Its appearance was too conspicuous
and its light too vivid to allow of the supposition that it could have been pres-
ent, yet not observed.
The law of gravitation discovered by Newton, and fully developed by his
illustrious successors, enables us fully to explain this difficulty. We shall
adopt the words of Arago : —
Why has not the comet been seen every Jive years and a half before 177P ?
Because the orbit was then totally different from that it has since pursued.
Why has not the comet been seen since 1770 ? For the reason that its pas-
sage to the point of perihelion in 1776 took place by day ; and before the fol-
lowing return, the form of the orbit was so altered, that had the comet been
visible from the earth it would not have been recognised.
Lexell had already remarked, according to his elements of 1770, that the
comet ought to pass in the vicinity of Jupiter in 1767, less than the fifty-eighth
part of his distance from the sun ; that in 1779, when it returned to us, it would
be, near the end of August, about five hundred times nearer that same planet
than to the sun ; so that then, notwithstanding the immense size of the solar
globe, its attractive power on the comet was not the two hundredth part that
of Jupiter. Thus it could not be doubted that the comet had experienced con-
siderable perturbations in 1767 and 1779 ; but it is yet necessary to establish
that these perturbations were numerically strong enough to explain the total
want of observations, as well before as after the year 1770.
The formularies in the fourth volume of the Mecanique Celeste give the ana-
398 PERIODIC COMETS.
lyrical solution of this problem : the actual elliptic orbit of a comet being known
what was its previous orbit ? What will it be hereafter, taking into accoun
in both cases the perturbating effects caused by the planets of our system ?
Well, then, by putting these formularies into numbers — by substituting, fo
its component indeterminate letters, the particular elements of the comet ol
1770 — it will first be found that in 1767, previous to the approach of that body
to Jupiter, the elliptic orbit which it described corresponds, not to five but to
fifty years of revolution round the sun ; afterward, that in 1779, on its depar
turc out of the attraction of the same planet, the orbit of the comet could not be
completed in less than twenty years. From the same researches it results that
before 1767, during the whole progress of its revolutions, the shortest distance
of the comet from the sun was one hundred and ninety-nine millions of leagues
(five hundred and ninety-seven millions of miles), and that after 1779 the mini-
mum of distance became one hundred and thirty-one millions of leagues (three
hundred and ninety-three millions of miles). This was still too far removed
for the comet to be perceptible from the earth.
However singular it may appear, we are, then, fully authorized to say of the
comet of 1770, that the action of Jupiter brought it to us in 1767, and that
the same action, producing an inverse effect, removed it from us in the year
1779.
WHISTON'S COMET.
A remarkable comet appeared in the year 1680, which has been rendered
$ memorable by the attempt of Whiston to prove that it was periodic, and that
} on one of its former visits it was the proximate cause of the Mosaic deluge. <
$ Arago, in his essay on comets, has discussed fully the question raised by $
I Whiston.
£ Whiston, says he, proposed to show not only in what manner a comet might
) have occasioned the deluge of Noah, but was desirous, moreover, that his ex-
^ planation should agree minutely with all the circumstances of that great catas-
<J trophe as related in Genesis. Let us see how he has succeeded in his object.
The biblical deluge happened in the year 2349 before the Christian era, ac-
cording to the modern Hebrew text ; or the year 2926, after the Samaritan
text, the Septuagint, and Josephus. Is there, then, reason to suppose that at
either of those periods a great comet had appeared ?
Among the comets observed by modern astronomers, that of 1680 may, from
its brilliancy, without hesitation be placed in the first rank.
$ A great many historians, both native and foreign, mention a very large comet,
j in similitude to the blaze of the sun, having an immense train, which appeared in
) the year 1106. In ascending still higher, we find a very large and terrific
comet designated by the Byzantine writers by the name of Lampadias, because
it resembled a burning lamp, the appearance of which may be fixed in the year
531. All the world knows, in fine, that a comet appeared in the month of
September, in the year of the death of Caesar, during the games given by the
emperor Augustus to the Roman people. That comet was very brilliant, as it
became visible from the eleventh hour of the day, that is, about five o'clock ir
the evening, or brfore sunset. Its date is in the year 43 before our era.
Since we have not any exact observation of the comets of — 43, or 531, or
of 1106 ; since we cannot calculate their parabolic orbits ; since we want th?
only criterion which would enable us to decide with perfect certainty eith.-r
the identity or dissemblance of two comets, let us at least remember that those £
of 1680, of 1106, of 531, and of — 43, were very brilliant, and let us compare ?
with each other the dates of these apparitions : —
From 1106 to 1680 we find 574 years.
" 531 « 1106 " « 575 "
" —43 " 531 " " 575 "
As we have not reckoned the months or portions of years, these periods may
be regarded as equal to each other, and thence it becomes probable enough
that the comet of the death of Caesar, of 531, of 1106, and of 1680, have been
only the reappearances of one and the same comet, which, after having
run through its orbit — after having made its complete revolution in about five
hundred and seventy-five years — became again visible from the earth. Then
if the period of five hundred and seventy-five years is multiplied by four, we
have twenty-three hundred, which, added to 43, the date of Csesar's comet,
gives, with the difference of only six years, the epoch of the deluge, resulting
from the modern Hebrew text. In multiplying by five, the date of the Septua-
gint is found within eight years.
If we recollect the marked differences of the comet of 1759 in the period
of its revolution round the sun, we shall acknowledge that Whiston might le-
gitimately have felt authorized to suppose that the great comet of 1680, or of
the death of Caesar, was near the earth at the period of Noah's deluge, and that
it had some part in that great phenomenon.
I shall not stop to explain minutely the series of transformations by which
the earth, which, according to Whiston, was originally a comet, became the
globe we now inhabit. I shall content myself by saying that he considers
the nucleus of the earth as a hard and compact substance, which was the
ancient nucleus of the comet ; that the matters of various natures confusedly
mixed, which composed the nebulosity, subsided more or less quickly, accord-
ing to their specific gravities ; that then the solid nucleus was at first surround-
ed by a dense and thick fluid ; that the earthy matters precipitated themselves
afterward, and formed a covering over the dense fluid — a kind of crust, which
may be compared to the shell of an egg ; that the water, in its turn, came to
cover this solid crust ; that in a considerable degree it became filtered through
the fissures, and spread itself over the thick fluid ; that, in fine, the gaseous
matters remaining suspended, purified themselves gradually, and constituted our
atmosphere.
Thus in this system the great biblical abyss is supposed to consist of a solid
nucleus and of two concentric orbs. Of these orbs, that nearest to the centre
is formed of a heavy fluid which first precipitated itself ; the second is of water ;
it is, then, properly speaking, upon the last of these fluids that the exterior and
solid crust of the earth reposes.
It is proper now to examine how, after that constitution of the globe to which
at least many geologists could oppose more than one difficulty, Whiston ex-
plains the two principal events of the deluge described by Moses.
In the six hundredth year of Noah's life, says the book of Genesis, on the
seventeenth day of the second month, the same day were all the fountains of
the great deep broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened.
At the period of the deluge, the comet of 1680, says Whiston, was only nine
or ten thousand miles from the earth : it attracted, therefore, the water from
the great deep, as the moon at present attracts the waters of the ocean. Its
action, on account of that great proximity, must have tended to produce an
' immense tide. The terrestrial shell could not resist the impetuosity of the
inundation ; it broke in at a great number of points, and the waters, then free,
spread themselves over the continents. The reader will here recognise the
rupture of the fountains of the great deep.
The ordinary rains of our days, even continued for forty days, would have
produced but a small accumulation. In taking for daily rain that which falls
400 PERIODIC COMETS.
at Paris annually, the produce of six weeks, far from covering the highest
mountains, would scarcely have formed a depth of eighty feet. It is therefore
necessary to refer to other sources than the cataracts of heaven. Whiston has
found them in the nebulosity and tail of the comet.
According to him, the nebulosity reached the earth near the Gordian
(Ararat) mountains Those mountains intercepted the entire tail. The ter-
restrial atmosphere, thus charged with an immense quantity of aqueous parti-
cles, was sufficient to produce forty days' rain of such violence as the ordinary
state of the globe can give us no idea.
Notwithstanding all its strangeness, I have exposed the theory of Whiston
in detail, both on account of the celebrity which it has so long enjoyed, as well
as because it appeared improper to treat with contempt the productions of
the man whom Newton himself designed as his successor in the university of
Cambridge ; yet the following are objections which it seems his theory cannot
resist.
Whiston having required an immense tide to explain the mystery of the bib-
lical phenomena of the great deep, was not content to pass his comet extremely
near the earth at the moment of the deluge : he has, moreover, given it a very
great magnitude, in supposing it six times greater than the moon.
Such a supposition is completely gratuitous, and this is also its least fault ;
for it. is not sufficient to account for the phenomena. If the moon really pro-
duces a tide on the waters of the ocean, it is because its angular diurnal
motion is not very considerable ; that in the space of some hours its distance
from the earth scarcely varies ; during a considerable time it remains vertically
over almost the same points of the globe ; the fluid which it attracts has there-
fore always time to yield to its action before it moves to a region where the
force which emanates from it will be otherwise directed. But it was not the
same with the comet of 1680. Near to the earth, its apparent angular motion
must have been extremely rapid ; in a few minutes it corresponded with a nu-
merous series of points situated on terrestrial meridians very distant from each
other. As to its rectilinear distance from the earth, it might, without doubt,
have been very small, but only during a few instants. The union of these cir-
cumstances, it must be observed, was but little favorable to the production of
a great tide.
I am very well aware that, to diminish these difficulties, it is sufficient to in-
crease the comet — to make its mass not only six times the size of the moon,
but thirty or forty times larger ; but I reply that the comet of 1680 does not
afford that latitude. On the 1st of November in that year it passed very near
to the earth. (See figure 3, in which the orbit of this comet is represented.)
It is shown that at the period of the deluge its distance was not less ; then, as
in 1680, it produced neither celestial. cataracts, nor terrestrial tides, nor ruptures
of the great deep ; as, moreover, its train nor its hair did not inundate us, we
may in all confidence say that Whiston's theory is a mere romance, unless, in
abandoning the comet of 16<80, we venture to attribute the same effect to
another much more considerable star of the same description.
Whiston, as we have just seen, proposed to attribute to physical causes not
only some deluge, but that of Moses, with all the circumstance related in the
book of Genesis. His celebrated countryman, Halley, had viewed the prob-
lem in a less special manner.
There exists, says he, far from the sea, marine productions, even upon the
highest mountains, which regions have been formerly under the sea. From
what impulse has the ocean abandoned the limits in which, in our days, it with
very slight oscillations remains constantly bounded ? It is here that Halley
calls to his aid, not like Whiston, a comet passing in our vicinity and causing
PERIODIC COMETS.
40!
Fig. 3.
a \eryhigh tide, but a star of the same description, which, in its elliptic course
about the sun, directly struck the earth. Let us examine closely what would
be the effect of such an event.
Let us conceive a solid body proceeding in a straight line with a certain ra-
pidity, and upon which from the outset another much smaller body had b<t-n
mertty placed. These two bodies, although not fastened together, will not sep-
arate in their progress, because the force which moves them will have gradu-
ally and from the commencement imparted equal velocities to them. But let
us suppose that an insurmountable obstacle suddenly presents itself in the way
of the first bod) and stops it instantly ; the fore part of the surface, the parts
struck, are, strictly speaking, the only parts whose velocity is directly destroyed
by the obstacle ; but as all the other parts are intimately attached to the first —
as, from our hypothesis, ihe hotly is solid — the whole of that body will stop.
It will not be so with the small body which we have yitnply laid upon the
first. This we may stop without the other, to which nothing attaches it. un-
less it may be a slight degree of friction ; and it will experience no effect —
lose none of its celerity. By virtue of this acquired and undiminished velocity,
the small body will separate itself from the large one, and will continue to
move in the original direction until the moment when its own weight shall
M
r"
402 PERIODIC COMETS.
bring it to the earth. Hence it will be understood how a person is thrown
forward when his horse, in falling down, suddenly stops ; in what manner
travellers seated on the imperial of a steam-carriage, moving with great ve-
locity over an iron railroad, are launched into the air like so many pro-
jectiles when an accident instantaneously stops the motion of these ingenious
contrivances. But is our earth anything else than a carriage, which, in its
progress through regions of space, requires neither wheels nor railways ? All
we said, therefore, is directly applicable to it.
Our velocity round the sun is about twenty miles per second. If a comet
of a sufficient mass in meeting the globe should, by a single shock, instanta-
neously stop its motion, the bodies placed upon its surface, such as animated
beings, our carriages, furniture, utensils, all objects in short not implanted di-
rectly or indirectly in the soil, would fly off to the point of the earth shocked
by the comet with the velocity with which they were in common originally
endued — a velocity of twenty miles per second. The effects of such an event
may be better conceived if I here remark that a twenty-four-pound shot has
not even on its discharge from the gun a velocity of more than twelve hun-
dred feet per second. All animated nature would certainly be destroyed in an
instant.
As for the waters of the ocean — since they are moveable — as nothing fastens
them to the solid portion of the earth — they would also be projected in mass
toward the point of percussion. This terrific liquid mass would in its im-
petuous course overthrow every obstacle in its way. It would pass the
summits of the highest mountains, and in its reflux would produce ravages
scarcely less tremendous. The disorder which is occasionally observed in
the strata of the different sorts of earth forming the crust of the globe is, it may
be said, but a microscopic accident compared with the frightful chaos that
would inevitably occur on a shock of a comet sufficiently powerful to stop the
earth.
It is only necessary to diminish in some degree these prodigious effects to
find what results would be experienced from the shock of a comet, which,
without stopping our globe, should sensibly decrease its velocity. Certain it
is, however, that the globe has never been stopped completely ; for in such
case, the central force not being counterbalanced, it must have fallen in a di-
rect line toward the sun, where it would have arrived sixty-four and a half
days after the shock.
The velocity of the earth and the magnitude of its orbit are so nearly con- <
nected, that one cannot change without at the same time producing a variation ;
in the other. It is unknown whether the dimensions of the orbit have remained (
constant ; nothing, then, proves that the velocity of the globe in the course of \
ages has not been more or less altered by a cometary concussion. At all \
events, it is incontestable that the inundations which would be produced by
such an event do not explain the effects which the variations of the earth has
undergone, now so well described by geologists.
A few words, again, before quitting this subject, on the consequences of (
cometary shock as respects its influence on the rotary movement of the earth. >
The earth turns upon itself in twenty-hours from the west to the east. The <
axis of rotation is called the axis of the world ; its extremities, the poles ; and |
the circle, equally distant from the two poles, the equator. The circle of the •»
equator is about 25,000 miles in circumference.
Twenty-five thousand miles are in consequence the space through which a
point on the equatorial region, solid or fluid, passes every twenty-four hours by ^
the rotation of the globe. An observer situated above the earth and its atmo- •:
sphere, would not be drawn into this movement, but would see all the parts of ,
PERIODIC COMETS.
403
the equator pass below him with a velocity of about a thousand miles an hour.
At the polos themselves this kind of movement does not exist ; at intermediate
latitudes it is less than at the equator.
The waters of the ocean, although they partake of this rapid motion, do not
invade the surrounding country, for in every place the shore has precisely the
same velocity as the water, and under all latitudes the continents and the seas
that bathe them are in a relative repose. If this state of things were to change ;
if the waves at any given point were to continue their original velocity, while
that of the adjacent land was suddenly to diminish, the ocean would at the same
time overflow its limits. .
In order to fix our ideas, let us imagine the oblique shock of a comet instan- *
taneously to turn the whole solid part of the earth round its diameter at the
point of Brest. That city having become the pole, the whole peninsula of
Brittany would be in an almost perfect repose ; but the ocean which washes
its shores on the west would not be so ; for as we have before observed on
the occasion of the movement of translation, it would be only resting on the
solid base of which its bed is formed. The waters would precipitate them-
selves in mass upon a shore which would no longer run before them with the
former velocity of the parallel of Brest.
Behold, then, extensive parts of the continent inundated, lofty regions buried
under the waves by cometary influence. But have the marine deposites which
are actually discovered on the mountains been conveyed in this manner ? By
no means. These deposites are frequently horizontal, of great breadth, very
thick, and very regular. The varied and often very small shells which, com-
pose them have preserved their crests, their most delicate points, their most
brittle parts, unbroken. Every circumstance, then, dissipates the idea of a
violent transposition ; everything shows the deposites to have been formed on
the spot. What now remains to complete the' explanation without having re-
course to an eruption of the sea ? It must be admitted that the mountains and
undulating grounds upon which they are based have risen up from below,
like mushrooms ; that they have grown up through the bosom of the waters.
In 1694, Halley already cited this hypothesis as a possible explanation of the
presence of marine productions upon the sides and on the summits of the
highest mountains. This explanation was the true one ; it is at present al-
most generally admitted. A comet which should perceptibly alter either the
movement of rotation or the progress of translation of the earth would, without
any doubt, occasion terrific convulsions in the shell of the globe ; but, it must
be repeated, these physical revolutions would differ in a thousand circumstances «
from those which are at present the objects of geological research.
The first glance of the matter of the present discourse may perhaps raise a
question with some whether all comets must not be periodic ; the difference
among them being only that the periods of a few of them have been discovered,
and those of the others still remain unascertained. It does not, however, fol-
low at all that the comets move periodically round the sun. Newton showed
that the law of gravitation would allow a body to move under the sun's attrac-
tion in any of those species of curves called conic sections ; and that the par-
ticular species in which any body might happen to move would depend alto-
gether on the velocity and direction in \Vhich such body might have originally
been projected. There are three species of conic sections : the ellipse, the
parabola, and the hyperbola. Now it is only the ellipse which would cause
a periodical revolution round the sun. A body moving in either of the other
curves would enter the system in some determinate direction, and leave it in
another — never to return to it.
Although it is not certainly ascertained that any comets have moved in
404 PERIODIC COMETS.
parabolas or hyperbolas, it seems probable, nevertheless, that such has been
the case ; and we may therefore consider with propriety comets to consist of
two classes : first, those which revolve round the sun in regular periods,
reappearing in the system after equal intervals of time ; and secondly, those
which enter it once, and depart from it, never to return.
Radiation a Property of Heat. — Prismatic Spectrum. — Invisible Rays. — Two Hypotheses. — Invisi-
ble Rays alike in their Properties to luminous Rays. — Discoveries of Leslie. — Differential Ther-
aoineter. — Radiation, Reflection, and Absorption. — Effect of Screens. — Supposed Rays of Cold.—
Common Phenomenon explained. — Theory of Dew.
RADIATION OF HEAT.
407
RADIATION OF HEAT.
WHEN any physical effect is progressively transmitted or propagated in '
straight lines, especially if those lines proceed in various directions round the
point whence the effect originates, the phenomenon is called radiation. The
effect is said to be radiated, and the lines along which it is transmitted are
called rays.
Several natural phenomena present examples of this, of which light is by
far the most remarkable. Every point of a visible object emits rays of light
which diverge in all possible directions from that point, and it is by these rays
of light that the point itself becomes visible. These rays of light, in like man-
ner, when they proceed from a luminous object, such as the sun, or the flame
of a lamp, falling on other objects, illuminate them, and making the points of
their surfaces become new centres of radiation, render them visible.
The secondary rays which they thus radiate by reflection meeting the eye,
produce a corresponding sensation, which excites a consciousness of the pres-
ence of the object. Radiation is likewise a property of heat. A hot body,
such as a ball of iron, raised to the temperature of 400°, placed in the middle
of a chamber, will transmit heat in every direction round it. Now this heat
may easily be proved not to be transmitted merely by means of the surrounding
air, for in this case the effect would be an upward current of hot air, which
would ascend by reason of its comparative lightness ; on the other hand, the
heat which proceeds from the ball is found to be transmitted downward, hor-
izontally, and obliquely, and in every possible direction. It is likewise trans-
mitted almost instantaneously, at least the time of its transmission is utterly in-
appreciable. A delicate thermometer, placed at any distance below the ball,
will be immediately affected by it, and the proof that this is true radiation, is
found in the fac that the ray» may be intercepted by a screen composed of a
material not pervious to heat. The rays may be proved to be transmitted in
straight lines in exactly the same manner, and by the same reasoning, as is ap-
plied to rays o/ light.
408
RADIATION OF HEAT.
But the radiation of heat, independently of any power of transmission which
may reside in the air, is put beyond dispute by the fact that a thermometer sus-
pended in the receiver of an air-pump, when it is exhausted, is affected by the
solar rays direited upon it.
The effects of the radiation of hot bodies prove that rays of heat exist unac-
companied by light. On the other hand, the calorific property which con-
stantly accompanies the solar rays, as well as the rays proceeding from flame,
would indicate that heat is a necessary concomitant or property of light. It is
ascertained also that the calorific principle exists with different degrees of
energy in lights of different colors. Sir William Herschel, being engaged in
telescopic observations on the sun, found that the colored glasses which he
used to mitigate the brilliancy of that luminary, in order to enable the eye to
bear its splendor, were cracked and broken in pieces by the heat which they
absorbed from the light which acted on them. This led him to investigate the
calorific properties of the different component parts of solar light ; and the ex-
periments which he instituted led to an important extension of the analysis of
light originally discovered by Newton.
Let A, B, C, fig. 1, be a section of a glass prism cut at right angles to its
length, and let S, S, be a ray of light admitted through a small aperture in a
window-shutter, and striking the surface of the glass at S. It is a property of
glass, which is explained in optics, that when light enters it in this manner,
the ray is bent from its course, and instead of proceeding in the direction S, S',
as it would do. if it did not encounter the glass, it is deflected upward in an-
other direction, forming an angle with its original course. Now it is found
that the ray thus bent upward does not continue to form one line of white
light as before, but it spreads or diverges, and if received on the screen, instead
of illuminating a single spot, as it would do if it were not intercepted by the
prism, it covers an extended line on the screen from V to R, and the length
of this line increases if the screen be moved from the prism, and decreases if
the screen be moved toward the prism ; a necessary consequence of the di-
vergence of the rays issuing from the prism. It is also observed that this line
of light thus produced on the screen, is not a uniform white light like the spot
which would be jjroduced on a screen held between A, B, C, and the window-
shutter. On the other hand, an appearance is produced of a regular succession
of brilliant colors, the highest color, V, being violet, the next below this, indigo,
which is succeeded by blue, green, yellow, orange, and finally red, in regular
succession, each color occupying a certain space on the line of light. This
effect is commonly called the prismatic spectrum, and it depends upon two facts
which are ascertained in optics, namely : first, that the ray of light, S, S, is
compounded of several distinct rays, which differ from each other in color ;
secondly, that the glass of the prism A, B, C, is capable of refracting or bending
n
09 (
RADIATION OF HEAT. 409
out of their course these different-colored lights in different degrees. Thus it
is capable of deflecting the violet light more than the indigo, the indigo more
than the blue, and so on, each color in succession being more refrangible by the
prism than that which occupies a lower place, and red being therefore the
least refrangible component part of the solar beam.
Let us now suppose that the bulbs of a series of thermometers are placed in
the different colored lights, from the violet to the red, in regular succession.
The relative heating-powers of these different colors will be indicated by the
effect which they produce on the several thermometers, the most powerful
being that which raises the thermometer exposed to its influence highest.
It is found that the thermometer whose bulb is covered with the violet light is
less elevated than that which is exposed to the indigo. This again is less
raised than that which is exposed to the blue, and the elevation of the several
thermometers go on, thus regularly increasing ; that which is acted upon by
the red light standing at a greater elevation than any of the others. Hence we
infer that the calorific power of the red light is greater than that of any other
component part of the solar beam. It might at first view be supposed that the
calorific power had some dependance on or connexion with the illuminating
power of light, and that the light which was most brilliant would likewise be
most hot. This, however, is not the fact ; for the most brilliant part of the
prismatic spectrum is found in the position of the yellow light, and the bril-
liancy gradually diminishes toward the extremity of the red, where the heat
is found to be greatest.
It occurred to Sir William Herschel, that as hot bodies emit calorific rays
which are not luminous, it was possibla that non-luminous calorific rays might
exist in solar light itself. To determine this point, he placed a thermometer in
the space immediately below R, the red eSufemity of the spectrum. He accord-
ingly found, as he had anticipated, that the thermometer still continued to be
affected, and consequently that the presence of calorific rays, invisible and
non-luminous, was manifested ; but what was more singular, he found that the
calorific power of these invisible rays was even greater than that of the lumin-
ous red rays, in fact, the maximum effect of the calorific rays was found at a
point H, a little below R. From that point downward the calorific influence rap-
idly diminished, until it altogether disappeared. There are, therefore, a num-
ber of invisible rays proceeding from the prism, and occupying the space H,
below R. These rays are refracted by the prism in the same manner as the
luminous rays, but the refraction is less in quantity. These invisible rays also
differ from each other in refrangibility, in the same manner as the luminous
rays do, since they occupy a space of some extent below R. Those whose
position is lowest being less refrangible than those nearer to the luminous rays.
Soon after these experiments of Sir William Herschel, the attention of
several distinguished philosophers was attracted to the investigation of the
properties of the prismatic spectrum, and among others the late Dr. Wollaston,
Ritter, and Beckmann. It had been long known that the solar light pro-
duced an influence on certain chemical processes. Thus the chloride of
silver, exposed to the direct rays of the sun, was known to acquire a black
color. Chemical effects were also produced on the oxides of certain metals.
It was shown by Scheele and others that these effects were produced by the
rays of light which occupy the upper part of the spectrum, and not at all by the
red rays. A feeble effect was produced by the green ray, and the chemical
energy was increased by ascending toward the violet ray. The circumstance
of Herschel having discovered invisible calorific rays under the lower extremity
of the spectrum, and even finding the point of extreme energy in that space,
suggested to these philosophers the inquiry, whether the chemical influence
410
RADIATION OF HEAT.
which was observed to increase in ascending toward the upper extremity,
might not exist in the space above that point, where no luminous rays were
apparent. They accordingly found, on exposing substances highly susceptible
of this chemical influence in the several spaces occupying the upper part of the
spectrum, and also in the space immediately above V, that the chemical action
was continued, as they had anticipated, beyond the luminous rays ; and as the
maximum heating-power, was found below R, so the maximum chemical influ-
ence was found to be in the space above V, in ascending beyond that point the
chemical influence rapidly diminished until it disappeared. It follows, there-
fore, that there are a number of chemical rays proceeding from the prism more
refrangible than any luminous rays, and falling on the screen above the point
V, in the space C. These chemical rays are found to be altogether destitute
of the heating principle, or at least, their effects on a thermometer were inap-
preciable.
The experiments of Herschel were repeated by several other philosophers,
with various success, some being unable to detect any calorific rays beyond
luminous spectrum, others detecting their existence, but fixing the maximum
calorific influence in the red rays, and others again agreeing in all respects
with Herschel. Of these, the most valuable were experiments instituted by
Berard, in the laboratory of Berthollet at Paris. This philosopher used a
heliostat, which is an instrument constructed for the purpose of reflecting a
ray of the sun constantly in one direction, notwithstanding the change of posi-
tion of the sun by its diurnal motion.-- He thus obtained a perfectly steady and
immoveable spectrum ; and he repeated the experiment under much more fa-
vorable circumstances than those in which Herschel's investigations were con-
ducted.
These experiments fully corroborated the results of former investigations,
and put beyond all question the presence of invisible rays beyond both
extremities of the spectrum, the one possessing the chemical, the other the
calorific property. Berard, however, found the maximum calorific influence
exactly at the extremity of the luminous spectrum, where the bulb of a
thermometer was completely covered with red light. The only difference then
which remained to be accounted for in the results of different experiments, was
the point of maximum calorific power, and it was conjectured by Biot that this
apparent discordance might be accounted for by the different materials of
which the prisms were composed. This conjecture was subsequently verified
by Seebeck, who proved that the position of greatest calorific intensity de-
pended on the nature of the prism by which the rays are refracted. He found
that a hollow prism, filled with water or alcohol, fixed the point of greatest
calorific intensity in the yellow rays. If filled with a solution of corrosive
sublimate, or with sulphuric acid, this point was found in the orange ray.
When a prism of crown-glass was used, it was situated in the red ray, but
when a prism of flint-glass was used, the point of greatest calorific intensity
took the position which Herschel assigned to it, in the non-luminous space
below the red ray. Thus all the apparent discordances in the experiment
were satisfactorily accounted for. The results of these experiments have
given rise to two distinct hypotheses respecting the constitution of solar light.
In one it is supposed that the solar ray, S, S, is composed of three distinct
physical principles : the chemical, the luminous, and the calorific. Let us
imagine a screen, M, N, fig. 2, placed between the prism and window-shutter,
which is capable of intercepting the luminous and the calorific principle, but
which allows the chemical rays to be transmitted. In that case, the prism
will refract the chemical rays, and cause them to diverge and occupy a space
on the screen between the point C, and C', corresponding to the highest point
r
RADIATION OF HEAT.
411
above the luminous spectrum, where the chemical influence is found, and C',
the lowest point in the green light, where its presence is discoverable. Let
Fig. 2.
us next suppose the screen M, N, to allow the luminous rays to be likewise
transmitted, these will be refracted by the prism, and will occupy the space L,
L/, corresponding to that already described as limited by the violet and red
lights. Finally, if the screen M, N, be removed, and all the rays allowed to
pass through the prism, the calorific rays will occupy the space from H, to H',
these being the points where the thermometer, in ascending and descending,
ceased to be affected. Thus, according to this supposition, three distinct
spectra, if they may be so called, are formed : the chemical spectrum, the lu-
minous spectrum, and tb.3 calorific spectrum. These spectra, to a certain ex-
tent, are superposed, or laid one upon another ; but the chemical spectrum ex-
tends beyond the luminous, at the upper part, while the calorific spectrum ex-
tends beyond the luminous, at the lower end. Each spectrum consists of rays
differently refrangible by the prism ; and if the middle ray be considered as
representing its mean refrangibility, it will follow that the mean refrangibility
of the chemical rays is greater than that of the luminous rays, and the mean
refrangibility of the luminous rays greater than that of the calorific rays. If
prisms of different materials be used, the relative degree of mean refrangibility
will be subject to change ; thus, the liquid prism above-mentioned, will cause
the mean refrangibility of the calorific rays to be more nearly equal to that of
the luminous rays than the glass prism.
According to the other hypothesis, the solar beam consists of a number of
rays, which differ from each other in their capability of being deflected by any
refracting medium. When transmitted through a prism and received on a
screen, the most refrangible passes to the highest point, and the least refrangi-
ble to the lowest point, those of intermediate degrees of refrangibility taking
intermediate places. It is assumed that the rays which thus differ in refran-
gibility, have, also, different properties and qualities, and that they possess the
same quality in different degrees. Thus rays of different refrangibility have
different illuminating powers, and they possess the chemical agency with dif-
ferent degrees of energy. So far as the sensibility of thermometers enable us
to discover the existence of the calorific principle, it extends from a certain
point below R, to a certain point in the violet light, but the diminution of its
temperature is observed to be gradual in approaching its limit, and it is consis-
tent with analogy that it should exist, in a degree not discoverable by thermom-
eters, beyond these points. Although, therefore, the thermometer does not in-
dicate the calorific principle in the invisible chemical rays at the top of the
spectrum, yet we cannot infer that these rays are altogether destitute of that
principle, without assuming that the sensibility of thermometers has no limiis.
In like manner the chemical influence, so far as experiment determines its
presence, ends somewhere in the green light, about the middle of the luminous
412
RADIATION OF HEAT.
spectrum, but the diminution of its influence to this point, is gradual ; and it
cannot be inferred with certainty, that it might not exist in less degree in the (
rays below this limit, and even in those invisible rays which are beyond the
red ray, unless we assume (hat there are no tests of chemical influence of
greater sensibility than those which have been used by the philosophers who ,'
instituted experiments on this subject.
The presence of the luminous quality is determined by its effect on tho hu-
man eye, and the discovery of it must, therefore, be limited to the sensibility
of that organ. To pronounce that there are no luminous rays beyond the lim-
its of the visible spectrum, is to declare that the sensibility of the human eye
is infinite. Now, it is notorious, not only that the sensibility of sight in dif-
ferent individuals is different, but even that the sensibility of the eye of the (
same person at different times, is susceptible of variation. If a person pass
suddenly from a strongly-illuminated apartment into a chamber, the windows
of which are closed, he will be immediately impressed with a sensation of ut-
ter darkness, and will be totally unable to discover any object in the room ; but
when he has remained some time in the darkened room, he will begin to be
sensible of the presence of light, and will, at length, even discern distinct ob-
jects. In this case, the eye, while exposed to the intense light of the first
chamber, accommodated its powers to the quantity of light to which it was ex-
posed, and, by a provision of nature, limited its sensibility in proportion as the
light was abundant. Passing suddenly into the darkened chamber, where a
very small quantity of light was admitted through the crevices of the windows,
the eye was incapable, in its actual state, of any perception of light, notwith-
standing the undoubted presence of that physical principle ; but when time
was allowed for the organ to adapt itself to the new circumstances in which it
was placed, its sensibility was increased, and a distinct perception of light ob-
tained.
It is, therefore, perfectly certain, that the sensibility of the eye is variable
in the same individual, and even changeable at will. It is likewise perfectly
certain, that different individuals have different sensibilities of sight, one indi-
vidual being capable of perceiving light which is not visible to another. Cir-
cumstances render it highly probable that many inferior animals have a sensa-
tion of light, under circumstances in which the human eye has no perception
of it ; and it is, therefore, consistent with analogy to admit, at least, the possi-
bility, if not the probability, that the invisible rays which fall on the space be-
yond each extremity of the luminous spectrum, may be of the same nature as
the other rays of light, although they are incapable of exciting the retina of
the human eye in a sufficient degree to produce sensation. This, probably,
will receive still further support and confirmation, if we can show that these
nvisible rays enjoy all the optical properties, save and except that of affecting
he sight, which other luminous rays possess.
It has already appeared that the non-luminous calorific rays, H, fig. 2, are re-
racted by transparent media in different degrees ; this refraction is also proved
o be subject to the same laws as the refraction of luminous rays. Thus the
sine of the angle of incidence bears a constant ratio to the sine of the angle
of refraction, when the refracting medium is given, and refracting media of dif-
erent kinds refract these rays in different degrees.
If the invisible calorific rays at H, fig. 3, be allowed to pass through a hole
n the screen, and be received on the plane reflector M, they will be reflected in
he direction M H, in the same manner as a ray of light would be under the
same circumstances ; that is, the rays M H' and M H will be equally inclined
o the plane of the reflector. If rays of heat be received on a concave reikc
or, they will be reflected to a focus in exactly the same manner as rays of
RADIATION OF HEAT.
413
light ; and in a word, all the phenomena explained in optics, concerning the
reflection of light by surfaces, whether plane or curved, are found to accompa-
ny the reflection of the non-luminous calorific rays. This is actually found to
take place, whether the non luminous rays be those which are obtained by re-
flecting the solar light by the prism, or produced from a heated body
Fig. 3.
In the experiments of Berard, the question of the identity of the calorific
and luminous rays was submitted to tests even more severe. There are certain
crystallized bodies called double refracting crystals, which produce peculiar
effects on the rays of light transmitted through them. Let A B, fig. 4, be the
surface of a piece of Iceland spar, or carbonate of lime, which is one of this
class of bodies, and let L L' be a ray of light striking obliquely on the surface
of this crystal ; if the crystal were common glass this ray would be bent out
of its course, and would pass through it in another direction ; but, in the case
of Iceland spar it is observed that the ray L L' is divided into two distinct
rays, which proceed in two different directions, L/ M, L' M', through the
crystal. Let a non-luminous calorific ray, taken from the lower end of the
spectrum, be in like manner transmitted to the surface of such a crystal, it
will be found, that, in penetrating the crystal, it will be divided into two rays,
and that these two rays will be deflected according to the same laws, exactly
as a luminous ray is under the same circumstances.
Fig. 4.
A luminous ray thus, after its transmission through a double refracting crys-
tal, is observed to have received a peculiar physical modification, which is
414
RADIATION OF HEAT.
called polarization. In fact, a mirror, placed in a certain inclined position,
above or below one of these two rays, is capable of reflecting them in the or-
dinary way ; but if placed in the same oblique position, on either side of them,
it becomes utterly incapable of reflecting them. The other ray possesses a
similar quality, but the position of the non-reflecting side is reversed. Now,
the two rays into which a non-luminous calorific ray, transmitted through such
a crystal, is resolved, are found to possess precisely the same property —
they are polarized.
A ray of light falling on a reflecting surface at a certain angle, the magni-
tude of which will depend on the nature of the surface, is found, when reflect-
ed in the ordinary way, to be polarized or put into the physical state just now
mentioned, to result from the double refraction of a crystal. It is capable of
being reflected by an oblique mirror placed above or below it, but it is incapa-
ble of being reflected by the same mirror, similarly placed, on either side. A
non-luminous calorific ray, whether proceeding from the prism, or from a hot
body reflected, is found to undergo the same effect, and to be also polarized.
In the experimental investigation of the phenomena attending thp radiation
of heat, it is necessary to distinguish the effect of radiated heat from the cas-
ual variation of the temperature of the air in the apartment in which the exper-
iment may be conducted. The use of the thermometer would, in this case, be
attended with material inconvenience, inasmuch as it would be extremely diffi-
cult to distinguish the effect of the heat radiated, from the casual change of
temperature of the medium in which the thermometer is placed. A second
thermometer, it is true, might be used in such experiments, the variations of
which would show the change of temperature of the medium ; but this second
thermometer could never be placed exactly in the same position as the ther-
mometer affected by the radiant heat : and it would not follow that the changes
of temperature of two different parts of the same chamber would, necessarily,
be exactly alike. An instrument, therefore, which is not affected by any
change of temperature in the medium in which it is placed would be capable
of giving much more accurate indications for such a purpose. Such an in-
strument was invented and applied by Sir John Leslie, in his experiments on
radiant heat, the results of which have, so justly, placed that distinguished
philosopher in the first rank of modern discoverers in physics.
The differential thermometer of Leslie consists of a small glass tube, fig. 5,
at each extremity of which is placed two thin hollow bulbs, F E, of glass, and
the tube is bent into the rectangular form, E A B F, and supported on a stand
S, the bulbs being presented upward. This tube contains a small quantity of
sulphuric acid, tinged red with carmine, to render it easily visible, filling the
greater part of the legs and horizontal branch. To one of the legs, F B, a
RADIATION OF HEAT.
415
scale is attached, divided into 100°, and the liquid contained in the tube is so
disposed, that it stands in the graduated leg opposite that point of the scale
which is marked 0°, when both bulbs are exposed to the same temperature.
The glass ball attached on the leg of the instrument which bears the scale, is
called the focal ball. Dry air is contained in the balls above the sulphuric
acid, which, not being vaporizable, does not affect the pressure of the air above
it by its vapor.
If this instrument be brought into a warm room, the air contained in both
bulbs is equally affected by the increase of temperature, and tkerefore no change
takes place in the position of the liquid ; and whatever changes the tempera-
ture of the apartment may undergo, for the same reason, produce no effect on
the instrument. Suppose, however, that the focal ball F is submitted to the
effect of heat, from which the ball E is free ; then the air in F will acquire a
greater degree of elasticity, while the air in E maintains its former pressure ;
the liquid in the leg F B will, therefore, be pressed downward, until the in-
creased space obtained by the air in F, and the diminished space into which
the air in E is pressed by the ascent of the liquid in A E is such, that the pres-
sure of the air in the two balls, by diminishing that of the air in F and increas-
ing that of the air in E, acquires a difference which is equal to the weight of
the column by which the height of the liquid in A E exceeds the height of the
liquid in B F. In fact, the least attention to the instrument will show, that the
difference of the heights of the columns of liquid in the two vertical tubes,
will represent the difference between their pressures of the air contained in the
two bulbs. It is from this property of indicating, not the absolute temperatures,
but the difference of the two adjacent points, that the instrument has received
its name.
Let M M', fig. 6, be two concave mirrors, placed face to face, at the distance
of ten or twelve feet, having a certain form called parabolic, the property of
which we shall now describe : — If the flame of a candle, or any other source
of light, be placed at a point/, called the focus of the mirror M, the rays of
light which proceed from it in every direction, and strike on the concave surface
of the mirror M, will be reflected in parallel lines toward the mirror M'. . When
these parallel rays encounter the surface of the reflector M', they will be again
reflected by it, in lines which all converge to the same point/', which is the
focus of M'. Now, instead of a luminous flame, let amadou, gunpowder, or
other matter easily inflammable, be placed in the focus/ and place a red-hot
metallic ball in the other focus /'. In a few minutes the amadou or gunpow-
der will be inflamed or exploded by the heat radiated by the ball and collected
at (he point fby the reflectors M M'.
Fig. 6.
Bui to prove that the rays of non-luminous heat are similarly reflected, let
the red-hot ball be removed, and a hollow ball of metal, filled with boiling wa-
ter, be substituted for it at/' ; let the focal ball of a differenti^ thermometer be
•
placed at/*— instantly the liquid will be depressed in the leg of the thermome-
ter, and the presence of the source of heat greater than that of the surrounding
nit ilium will be thus indicated. That this source of heat is derived from the
vessel of hot water in the focus f may be easily proved. Let this vessel be
removed, and immediately the liquid in the thermometer will rise to its ordina-
ry level ; but it may be said that the effect is produced on the thermometer by
the heat transmitted direct from/7 toy. This, however, may be .proved not to
be the case ; for let the hot water be placed as before at/7, and let the mirror
M be removed, the effect produced on the thermometer will immediately erase.
The rapidity with which the heat thus radiated from/' and reflected by ihe
mirrors to/is propagated, may be shown by interposing between/*and f a screen,
composed of any substance not pervious to calorific rays. When the screen is
thus interposed, the liquid in the thermometer will recover its ordinary level ;
but the moment the screen is again withdrawn, the liquid instantly fails in the
focal leg ; and this takes place by whatever distance the two mirrors may be
separated.
Of the two hypotheses already mentioned, which have been proposed for the
explanation of the phenomena observed in the prismatic spectruin, that which
supposes light to consist of three distinct principles seems to be attended with
a variety of circumstances which throw improbability upon it. The three
principles thus distinguished enjoy the same leading properties. They all obey,
with the most minute precision, the ordinary laws of optics, and, in fact, pos-
sess every property of light except the most prominent and obvious one of
affecting the sight. The other hypothesis, on the contrary, has the advantage
of great simplicity ; in it light is considered as compounded of a number of
rays unequally refrangible, and possessing, consequently, different influences
on other bodies, and on vision. The calorific and chemical properties which
disappear alternately at the extremities of the spectrum, are cqnsidered as de-
pending on, or connected with, the difference of refrangibility, and as becom-
ing insensible under different variations in that property; it is very conceivable
that the calorific power of rays may vary in some inverse proportion with re-
spect to their refrungibility, while the energy of the chemical power may change
in a contrary direction. In a word, since all the rays refracted by the prism
agree in by for the greater number of their properties, and disagree only in
some peculiar effects ; and since even this disagreement may be considered
more as apparent than real, and may arise from the want of sufficient sensibili-
ty in the tests by which these effects may be practically ascertained, it seems
more philosophical to regard all the rays as of one species, than to adopt an
hypothesis which classes things alike in all their leading qualities, under differ-
ent denominations. It is not, however, necessary to assume either supposition,
nor to adopt it as the basis of reasoning. Experiment is the sure and only
guide in physics ; and whether heat be obscure and imperceptible light, or a
distinct physical agent, we shall regard it as a principle attended with certain
sensible effects, capable of being ascertained by experiment or observation, and
from such effects arid such only, can legitimate inferences be drawn.
The heat which passes from a body by radiation has a tendency to cause its
temperature to fall ; and, the rate of this process of cooling, is propomoiiate *
to the difference between the temperature of the body and that of the surround-
ing medium, when this difference is not of very great amount. It follows, the,:, >
that a hot body at first, when its temperature greatly exceeds that of the sur-
rounding air, cools rapidly ; but as its temperature falls, and approaches ncaier )
to equality with the temperature of the medium in which it is placed, the rate i
at which it cools gradually diminishes. This law of bodies cooling was !ir>* .•
observed by Newton, and reduced to an exact mathematical expression, i>y <
RADIATION OF HEAT.
417
which the rates of the cooling of bodies under given circumstances might be
calculated with precision. Numerous experiments have been made on the
rates at which bodies cool in media of lower temperatures, and become hot in
media of higher temperatures ; and the results of observation have been found
to have1 a very exact conformity with those which are calculated on the New-
tonian law, provided the difference of the temperature does not exceed a cer-
tain limit.
As radiation takes place altogether from the points of a body which are on or
very near its surface, it may naturally be expected that the radiating power of
bodies will mainly depend on the nature of their surfaces. This idea suggested
to Sir John Leslie a series of experiments which led to some of the most re-
markable discoveries ever made respecting the radiation of heat. In these ex-
periments, cubical vessels, or canisters, of tin were employed, the side of which
varied from three inches to ten. These vessels were filled with hot water arid
placed before a tin reflector, M, fig. 7, like those already described, in the focus
y"of which was placed the focal bnll of a differential thermometer. The face
of the canister c containing water being presented to the reflector, rays of heat
proceeded directly from it, and striking on the reflector M were collected into
the focus /"on the ball of the thermometer. The depression of the liquid in the
thermometer furnished a measure of the intensity of the heat radiated.
The first consequence of these experiments was a verification of the law al-
eady mentioned, that, other things being the same, the intensity of the radia-
tion was always proportional to the difference between the temperature of the
water and the temperature of the air. Thus suppose, the temperature of the
air being 50°, that of the water 100°, that the thermometer fall 20° ; then if
y the temperature of the air were the same, and the temperature of the water at
150°, the thermometer would fall 40° ; and again, if the temperature of the
water were 200°, the thermometer would fall 60°, and so on.
If, while the temperature of the water remains the same, the canister is
placed successively at different distances from the reflector, it is found that the
thermometer is differently affected ; and that, as the distance of the radiating
svrface from the reflector is increased, the intensity of its effect is in the same
proportion diminished. It was likewise ascertained, that if the magnitude of
( the radiating surface were increased, the distance remaining the same, the in-
tensity of the radiation would be in the direct proportion of the magnitude of
the radiating surface. From this it necessarily follows, that if the magnitude
of the radiating surface be increased in the same proportion as the distance is
increased, the intensity of the radiation will remain the same ; for as much is
gained by the increased magnitude of the radiating surface, as is lost by the
increased distance ; and accordingly it was found that the thermometer was
equally affected by a surface of double magnitude at a double distance, and of
triple magnitude at a triple distance.
We have hitherto supposed that the face of the canister is placed parallel to
418
RADIATION OF HEAT.
the reflector, so that the rays of heat take a direction perpendicular to the ra-
diating surface ; but if each point of the surface radiates heat in all possible
directions, it will follow that the surface, when presented obliquely to the mir-
ror, will still affect the thermometer. When the surface of the canister was
presented thus obliquely, the effect produced on a thermometer was found to
be the same as would be produced by a surface of less magnitude, in the pro-
portion of the actual magnitude of the radiating surface to that of its projection.
It follows, therefore, that the more inclined the radiating surface is to the di-
rection of the radiation, the less will be the intensity of the radiation ; but in
general this intensity will be diminished, in the proportion of the actual magni-
tude of the radiating surface and the magnitude of its orthographical projection
on the mirror.
We have hitherto supposed the nature of the radiating surface to remain un-
altered. The effect of any change in this, however, may be easily ascertained
by covering the side of the canister with the different substances the effect of
which is required. Thus, let the four sides of the canister be coated with dif-
ferent substances — one with lampblack, another with isinglass, another with
china ink, and a fourth left uncovered, and therefore presenting a surface of
polished tin. The vessel being now filled with hot water, all the surfaces will
acquire the same temperature, and may be successively presented to the re-
flector at the same distance ; they will be observed to produce different effects
on the thermometer. If the lampblack depresses the liquid 100°, the china
ink will depress it 88°, the isinglass 80°, and the tin 12°. The great differ-
ence in the radiating power produced by the different nature of the surfaces
will be hence very apparent.
The inquiries of Professor Leslie were directed to this point with great ef-
fect, and he found that various substances possessed very different radiating
powers. In general, metallic bodies proved to be the most feeble radiators.
The following table exhibits the relative power of radiation of different sub-
stances, as exhibited in these experiments : —
Lampblack 100
Water, by estimate ' 100
"Writing-paper 98
Rosin " 96
Sealing-wax 95
Crown glass 90
China ink 88
Ice 85
Minium ... 80
Isinglass 80
Plumbago 75
Tarnished lead 45
Mercury 20
Clean lead 19
Iron polished 15
Tin-plate 12
Gold, silver, copper 12
When the substance forming the radiating surface remains of the same na-
ture, its radiating power is subject to considerable elevation, according to its
state with respect to smoothness, or roughness. In general, the more polished
and smooth a surface is, the more feeble will be its power of radiation. Any-
thing which tarnishes the surface of metal also increases its radiating power.
In the preceding table, tarnished lead radiated 45°, while clean lead radioed
only 19°. If the surface of a body be rendered rough by mechanical means,
such as scratching with a file, or with sand-paper, the radiating power is in-
creased.
Leslie also proved that the particles forming the surface of a body are not
the only ones which radiate, but that radiation proceeds from particles at a cer-
tain small depth within the surface. He determined this curious point by cov-
ering one side of a vessel containing hot water with a thin coating of jelly, and
pulling on another side four times the quantity. In each case, when dried, the
EADIATION OF HEAT.
419
: jelly formed an extremely thin film on the surface. Now, although the nature
'. of these two surfaces was precisely the same with respect to material and
> smoothness, they were found to radiate very differently ; the thinner film de-
i pressed the thermometer 38°, while the thicker depressed it 54°. The in-
creased radiation must in this case be attributed to the increased quantity of
radiating material. The increase of radiation was found to continue until the
coating amounted to the thickness of about 1000th part of an inch, after which
no further increase took place. It might, therefore, be inferred that, in the case
of the surface of jelly,such as that here submitted to experiment, the particles
radiate heat from a depth below the surface equal to the 1000th part of an inch.
A similar effect was found with other substances. In the case of metals, no
increase was observed when leaf metal of gold, silver, and copper, was used ;
but on using glass, enamelled with gold, a slight increase of radiating power
was produced, as compared with the ordinary radiating power.
In these experiments the heat radiated undergoes three distinct physical ef-
fects : 1. The radiation from the surface of the canister; 2. The reflection
from the surface of the reflector ; 3. Absorption by the glass surface of the
focal ball, for without such absorption the air included could not be affected.
Now, of these three effects, we have hitherto examined but one, viz., the radi-
ating power. Let us consider what circumstances affect the power of reflect-
ing heat, and the power of absorbing it.
The reflector used in the experiments already described was formed of pol-
ished tin. If, instead of this, a reflector of glass be used, it will be found that
the thermometer will be affected in a much less degree, whence we infer that
glass is a worse reflector than metal. If the surface of the reflector be coated
with lampblack, all reflection whatever is destroyed, and no effect is produced
on the thermometer. Thus it appears that, as different surfaces have different
radiating powers, so also they have different reflecting powers ; but to deter-
mine the reflecting power of different surfaces with great exactness, Leslie re-
ceived the rays proceeding from the reflector M, fig. 8, on a flat reflecting sur-
Fig. 8.
face, S, before they came to a focus ; and by the laws of reflection they were
reflected to another focus,/, as far before the reflecting surface S as the focus
/, to which they would have proceeded is behind it. The reflecting power of
the surface S will, therefore, be determined by the intensity of the heat in the
focus/', compared with the intensity which it would have had in the focus/,
had the rays been allowed to converge to that point. By experiments con-
ducted in this way, and exposing the surfaces of different substances to receive
the rays, as at S, Leslie determined the reflecting powers of several bodies as
follow : —
Brass 100
Silver 90
Tin-foil 85
Block tin , 80
Steel 70
Lead 60
Tin-foil, softened with mercury 10
Glass 10
Glass, coated with wax or oil 5
If these results be compared with, the table of radiating powers in page 476,
it will be found that, generally, those substances which are the best radiators
are the worst reflectors, and vice versa. In fact, in proportion as the radiating
power is increased, the reflecting power is diminished. This analogy is fur-
ther confirmed by the fact, that the reflecting power is increased by every in-
crease in smoothness or polish of the reflecting surface ; while, on the contra-
ry, this cause, as we have seen, diminishes its radiating power. The effect
of coating the reflector with a thin film of jelly or other substance has, in con-
formity with the same analogy, exactly a contrary effect to that which such a
coating produced on radiation. It was found that, as the thickness of the coating
increased to a certain limit, the intensity of the radiation was likewise increased.
On the other hand, in the case of reflection, the intensity of the reflection is
diminished in proportion as the thickness of the coating is increased.
Let us now consider the effect produced on the focal ball, which will lead
us to determine the different powers of absorption which different bodies pos-
sess. In all the experiments to which we have hitherto alluded, the focal ball
has presented a polished surface of glass, and the effect produced on a ther-
mometer, other things being the same, has depended on the absorptive power
of the glass over the heat incident upon it. When radiant heat strikes on the
surface of different substances, we have seen that a portion of it is reflected,
and that this portion varies according to the nature of the substance and ac-
cording to the state of the surface. It is clear that all that portion of the inci-
dent heat which is not reflected must be absorbed ; and we are led, therefore,
by analogy to the inference that, in proportion as the reflecting power of a sur-
face is great, its absorptive power is small, and vice versa.
To bring this inference to the test of experiment, let the ball of a thermome-
ter be coated with tin-foil, which was found to be one of the best reflectors.
If the side of the vessel coated with lampblack, while the focal ball is covered
with tin-foil, be now presented to the reflector, the thermometer will only indi-
cate 20°, whereas it indicates 100° when the surface of the ball was uncovered.
If the bright side of a canister be presented to the reflector when the focal ball
is uncovered, the thermometer indicates 12° ; but, if the focal ball be covered
with tin-foil, it will indicate only 2^-°. Thus we see that the anticipation of
theory is confirmed. If the surface of the tin-foil be rubbed with sand-paper,
so as to render it rough, and therefore to diminish its reflecting power, its ab-
sorbing power will be increased, and the effects on the thermometer will be
likewise augmented. Like experiments performed on other bodies lead to the
general conclusion, that the absorptive power of bodies increases as the reflect-
ing power decreases.
Since the radiating power of a surface is inversely as its reflecting power,
it follows, also, that the power of absorption is always in the same proportion
as the power of radiation. In reference to their power of transmitting light,
bodies are denominated transparent or opaque. A body which is pervious to
;light is said to be transparent, and one which does not allow light to pass
through it is said to be opaque. Transparency is also a quality which bodies
possess in different degrees : some, such as glass, water, or air, being almost
RADIATION OP HEAT.
421
perfectly transparent, while others, such as paper, horn, &c., are imperfectly
so. Analogy leads us to inquire whether bodies are also pervious to heat.
In the preceding experiments, rays of heat passed through the atmosphere,
which is therefore, transparent to heat. It appears from the experiments of
Leslie and others, which have been since instituted, that all gases are pervi-
ous to the rays of heat, and equally so ; for the radiation of a given surface is
the same in whatever gas it takes place.
Gases, therefore, as they have perfect or nearly perfect transparencies for
the rays of light, have the same quality in reference to the rays of heat. A hot
body placed behind a solid or a liquid is found, however, not to radiate sensibly
through them. But the most direct method of determining the transparency of
bodies for the rays of heat, is to interpose a screen between the radiating body
and the reflector, in the experiment already described, and to observe the
effect produced on the thermometer by this circumstance. Leslie's investiga-
tion respecting the property of transparency to heat of different bodies, form a
very remarkable part of that philosopher's discoveries.
Different substances are pervious by heat in different degrees. A screen
of thin deal board, placed between the canister, c, and the focal ball,/, figure
7, produced a diminution in the effect on the thermometer, but did not destroy
that effect altogether. The heat transmitted through the board varied with its
thickness, slowly diminishing as its thickness increased. The radiation of
the surface of the lampblack, which, while unobstructed, produced an effect of
100° on the thermometer, produced an effect of 20° when a deal board the
eighth of an inch thick was interposed. It produced an effect of 15° when
the thickness was three eighths of an inch, and an effect of 9° when the board
was an inch thick. A plane of glass interposed reduced the effect of the radi-
ation by the surface of lampblack from 100° to 20°.
The distance of the screen from the canister was also found to produce a
considerable effect on its transparency. When placed near the canister, a con-
siderable quantity of heat was transmitted ; but if the distance was increased,
the quantity of heat transmitted diminished. A pane of glass at the distance
of two inches reduced the effect of radiation from 100° to 20°. As its dis-
tance from the radiating surface was slowly increased, the effect on the ther-
mometer was gradually diminished ; and at the distance of one foot from the
radiating surface all effect of radiation was destroyed.
It appeared that the metals, even when reduced to an extreme degree of
tenuity, were absolutely opaque to heat. A screen of tinfoil absolutely inter-
cepted all radiation. The thinnest gold leaves, 300,000 of which, piled one
upon another would not measure an inch, also absolutely stopped the rays of
heat. White paper is partially opaque.
It appears, generally, that the bodies which intercept heat most effectually
are those which radiate heat worst, and vice versa. This, indeed, might easily
have been anticipated from what has been already proved of reflection. The
screens which are the best reflectors are the worst radiators, and must evi-
dently be also most powerful in intercepting heat ; for if they reflect much they
can transmit but little. Some other effects, which Leslie observed in his ex-
periments with screens, may also be accounted for by the same circumstance.
He took two panes of glass and coated one side of each with tinfoil. He then
placed their uncovered sides in close contact, so as to form one double pane,
both surfaces of which were covered with tinfoil. When this was interposed
as a screen before the radiating surface, all effect on the thermometer was de-
stroyed, and all the radiant heat intercepted. This is easily accounted for by
the perfect power of reflection which the coating of tinfoil possesses. The heat
incident on the surface of tinfoil is nearly all reflected ; and, consequently, no
422
sensible quantity is transmitted. He next placed the two panes with the-ir
coated surfaces in contact, the uncovered surfaces being outside. A part of
the radiant heat was now transmitted, and the effect on the thermometer was
observed to be 18°. Thus about one fifth of the radiant heat incident on the
screen was transmitted. In fact, nearly as much heat was thus transmitted by
the two panes of glass with the tinfoil between them, as would have been
transmitted by a pane of uncovered glass. From this result it would appear
that the tinfoil loses its power of reflecting heat when the rays of he<xt have
previously passed through a medium of glass instead of a medium of air ; and )
that, instead of reflecting them, it transmits them.
The idea of investigating the effects which different temperatures in a radi-
ant body produce on the power of the radiated heat to penetrate screens of dif-
ferent substances, does not seem to have suggested itself to Sir John Leslie.
Later experiments, instituted by M. de la Roche, prove that the power of cal-
orific rays to penetrate bodies increases with the temperature of the radiator.
This heat radiating from a surface at a certain temperature, fails to penetrate
glass, except in a very limited degree ; but if the radiating body be considera-
bly elevated in its temperature, then the rays penetrate the glass in much
greater quantities. In fact, the degree of transparency of glass relatively to
the rays of heat would seem to depend on the temperature of the radiating
body, and to increase with that temperature.
'l^he results of the preceding experiments, and, indeed, all the phenomena
connected with the radiation of heat, are satisfactorily explained by the theory
of exchanges, first proposed by Prevost of Geneva. According to this theory,
every point at and near the surfaces of bodies is regarded as a centre from
which rays of heat diverge in all directions. The surfaces also reflect rays of
heat incident upon them, in a greater or less degree, rays of heat striking on a
body, arid reflected or radiated by the other bodies around. Thus every body,
so far as regards heat, is constantly under the operation of three distinct pro-
cesses— it radiates, reflects, and absorbs: it follows, from this, that betrveeii
bodies which are placed in each other's neighborhood, there must be a coijscant
interchange of heat. The heat which is radiated by one body strikes on oth-
ers ; part of it is absorbed by them, and is retained within their dimensions, so
as to raise their temperature, while another part is reflected, and scrikes on
other bodies, where it is subject to like effects. The body which radiates
heat in this manner is, at the same time, receiving on its surface rays of heat
which proceed from other bodies in its neighborhood ; and these rays of heat
are subject to the same effects on its surface as the rays which, proceeding
from it, encounter on the surface of other bodies — they are partly absorbed and
partly reflected.
If a body raised to a high temperature be placed in the neighborhood of other
bodies at a lower temperature, it will radiate a greater quantity of heat than the
bodies which surround it ; consequently the heat which it receives from them
will be less than the heat which it transmits to them. They will receive more
heat than they give, and it will give more heat than it receives ; the temperature,
therefore, of the hot body, will gradually fall, while the temperature of the sur-
rounding bodies will gradually rise. This will continue until the temperatures
of the bodies are equalized. Then the heat radiated by each of ihem will be
exactly equal to the heat absorbed, and the temperature will remain stationary.
It has appeared from the result of direct experiments, that the bodies which
are the best radiators are also the best absorbers of heat. This would follow
as a necessary consequence of the theory which has been just explained. If
a body which is a powerful radiator were at the same time a bad absorber, the
consequence would be that it would radiate heat faster than it would absorb it ;
RADIATION OF HEAT. 423
consequently its temperature would continually fall, and this depression of
temperature would continue without any limit. Now this is not supported by
observation. It therefore follows, as a necessary consequence, that the power
of radiation in every body must be equal to its power of absorption.
It has likewise appeared that the best reflectors are the worst radiators.
This effect might likewise be foreseen on the principle of the theory just ox-
plained. A good reflector is a body which reflects the principal part of the
rays of heat which strike upon it. Now the heat which is incident on a body
must be either reflected or absorbed, and whatever portion of it is not reflected
must be absorbed. If, therefore, a great part be reflected, a proportionally
small part remains to be absorbed ; consequently it follows, that in the same
proportion as a body is a good reflector it must be a bad absorber ; and, vice v>:rsa,
if it be a bad reflector, it must in proportion be a good absorber. But it neces-
sarily follows, if a body be a powerful absorber of heat, that it must also be a
powerful radiator of heat, for otherwise its temperature would rise infinitely by
the heat which it absorbs accumulating in it, and not being carried off by radi-
ation. A good reflector, therefore, will be a bad radiator, and vice versa. In
the experiments of Leslie with the concave reflector, our attention was only
directed to the radiation of the hot surface, and we considered only the ray*
which, proceeding from it, were collected on the bulb of a thermometer by the
concave reflector. It might appear to follow, from an extension of this experi-
ment, that bodies radiate cold as well as heat. Let one of the cubical vessels
used by Leslie in his experiment be filled with snow, and placed before a re-
flector. Immediately the focal ball of the differential thermometer placed in
the focus will exhibit a rapid depression of temperature. Are we, therefore, to
suppose in this case that rays of cold proceed from sides of the vessel, and are
collected on the ball of the thermometer ? On the contrary, it has appeared
from previous investigation, that no body is perfectly destitute of heat, and that
snow itself, as well as mixtures much colder than it, are capable of imparting
heat to other bodies, and therefore possess heat in them. The surface, there-
fore, of a vessel containing snow, in this case radiates heat, and these rays of
heat are collected on the bulb of the thermometer in the same manner as when
that vessel was filled with boiling water. The bulb of the thermometer, how-
ever, itself, like all other bodies, radiates heat, and this heat is reflected by the
concave reflector toward the surface of the vessel containing the snow. The
two bodies, therefore, are radiating heat toward each other ; but the bulb of the
thermometer having the higher temperature, radiates more heat than it re-
ceives, while the surface of the vessel containing the snow receives more heat
than it radiates. The thermometer, therefore, gradually falls in its tempera-
ture, while the vessel containing the snow gradually rises.
In the experiment with the concave reflector already described, the hot
body placed in one focus, and the bulb of the thermometer placed in the other,
are both radiators and absorbers of heat ; the hot body radiates heat to the
bulb, and the bulb radiates heat to it. The hot body absorbs the heat which
is radiated by the bulb, and the bulb absorbs the heat radiated by the hot body.
But the hot body, radiating more heat than the bulb, necessarily absorbs less,
consequently the temperature of this body gradually falls, while that of the
bulb of the thermometer rises. Let us now suppose that instead of a hot body,
a globe of snow be placed in the focus of the reflector, the bulb of the thermom-
eter having a higher temperature, will radiate more heat than it receives from
the snow, and it will become a hot body relatively to the snow. Since, there-
fore, it radiates more heat than it absorbs, its temperature will fall until it be-
comes equal to that of the snow ; the interchange of heat being then equal, no
further alteration in temperature will take place.
424 RADIATION OF HEAT.
Numerous facts of ordinary occurrence, and many interesting natural phe-
nomena, admit of easy and satisfactory explanation on the principle of the
above theory of radiation.
Vessels intended to contain a liquid at a higher temperature than the sur-
rounding medium, and to keep that liquid as long as possible at the higher
temperature should be constructed of materials which are the worst radiators
of heat. Thus, tea-urns and tea-pots are not adapted for their purpose when
constructed of black porcelain. A black porcelain tea-pot is the worst con-
ceivable material for that vessel, for both its material and color are good ra-
diators of heat, and the liquid contained in it cools with the greatest possible
rapidity. On the other hand, a bright metal tea-pot is best adapted for the
purpose, because it is the worst radiator of heat, and therefore cools as slowly
as possible. A polished silver or brass tea-urn is better adapted to retain the
heat of the water than one of a dull brown color, such as is most commonly
used in England.
A tin kettle retains the heat of water boiled in it more effectually if it is
kept clean and polished, than if it be allowed to collect the smoke and soot, to
which it is exposed from the action of the fire. When coated with this, its
surface becomes rough and black, and is a powerful radiator of heat.
A set of polished fire-irons may remain for a long time in front of a hot fire
without receiving from it any increase of temperature beyond that of the cham-
ber, because the heat radiated by the fire is all reflected by the polished sur-
face of the irons, and none of it is absorbed ; but if a set of rough, unpolished
irons, were similarly placed, they would speedily become hot, so that they
could not be used without inconvenience. The polish of fire-irons is; there-
fore, not merely a matter of ornament, but of use and convenience. The rough,
unpolished poker, sometimes used in a kitchen, soon becomes so hot that it
cannot be held without pain.
A close stove, intended to warm an apartment, should not have a polished
surface, for in that case it is one of the worst radiators of heat, and nothing
could be contrived more unfit for the purpose to which it is applied. On the
other hand, a rough unpolished surface of cast-iron is favorable to radiation,
and a fire in such a stove will always produce a more powerful effect.
A metal helmet and cuiras, worn by some regiments of cavalry, is a
cooler dress than might be at first imagined. The polished metal being a
nearly perfect reflector of heat, throws off the rays of the sun, and is incapable
of being raised to an inconvenient temperature. Its temperature is much less
increased by the influence of the sun than that of common clothing.
The polished surfaces of different parts of the steam-engine, especially of the
cylinder, is not matter of mere ornament, but of essential utility. A rough
metal surface would be a much better radiator of heat than the polished sur-
face, and if rust were collected on it, its radiating power would be still further
increased, and the steam contained in it would be more exposed to condensa-
tion by loss of heat.
It may be frequently observed that a deposition of moisture has taken place
on the interior surface of the panes of glass of a chamber-window, on a morn-
ing which succeeds a cold night. The temperature of the external air during
the night being colder than the atmosphere of the chamber, it communicates
its temperature to the external surface of the glass, and this is transmitted to
the interior surface, which is exposed to the atmosphere of the room. This
atmosphere is always more or less charged with vapor, and the cold of the ex-
ternal surface of the glass acting on the air in contact with it, reduces its tem-
perature below the point of saturation, arid a condensation of vapor takes place
on the surface of the panes, which is observed by a copious deposition of
RADIATION OF HRAT.
425
moisture in the morning. If the temperature of the external air be at or be- j
low the freezrng point, this deposition will form a rough coating of ice on the <
pane. , Let a small piece of tin-foil be fixed on a part of the exterior surface j
of one pane of the window in the evening, and let another piece of tin-foil be (
iixed on a part of the interior surface of another pane. In the morning it will j
be found that that part of the interior surface which is opposite to the external i
foil will be nearly free from ice, while every other part of the same pane will ]
be thickly covered with it. On the contrary, it will be found that the surface i
of the internal tin-foil will be more thickly covered with ice than any other part '
of the glass. These effects are easily explained by the principle of radiation. <
When the tin-foil is placed on the exterior surface, it reflects the heat which
strikes on the exterior surface, and protects that part of the glass which is
covered from its action. The heat radiated from the objects in the room
striking on the surface of the glass, penetrates it, and encountering the tin-foil
attached to the exterior surface, is reflected by it through the dimensions of
the glass, and its escape into the exterior atmosphere is intercepted ; the por-
tion of the glass, therefore, covered by the tin-foil, is in this case subject to
the action of the heat radiated from the chamber, but protected from the action
of the external heat. The temperature of that part of the glass is therefore
less depressed by the effects of the external atmosphere than the temperature
of those parts which are not covered by the tin-foil. Now, glass being, as
will appear hereafter, a bad conductor of heat, the temperature of that part op-
posite to the tin-foil does not immediately affect the remainder of the pane,
and consequently we find that while the remainder of the interior surface of
the pane is thickly covered with ice, the portion opposite the tin-foil is com-
paratively free from it. On the contrary, when the tin-foil is placed on the
internal surface, it reflects powerfully the heat radiated from the objects in
the room, while it admits through the dimensions of the glass, the heat pro-
ceeding from the external atmosphere. The portion of the glass, therefore,
covered by the tin-foil, becomes colder than any other part of the pane, and
the tin-foil itself receives the same temperature, which is not reduced by the
effect of the radiation of objects in the room, because the tin-foil itself is a good
reflector of heat, and a bad absorber. Hence the tin-foil presents a colder sur-
face to the atmosphere of the room than any other part of the surface of the
pane, and consequently receives a more abundant deposition of ice.
If a body, which is a good radiator of heat, be exposed in a situation where
other good radiators are not present, it will have a tendency to fall in its tempe-
rature below the temperature of the surrounding medium ; because, in this case,
while it loses heat by its own radiation, its absorbing power is not satisfied by
a corresponding supply of heat from other objects. A clear sky, in the ab-
sence of the sun, has scarcely any sensible radiation of heat ; if, therefore, a
good radiator be exposed to the aspect of an unclouded firmament at night, it
will lose heat considerably by its own radiation, and will receive no corres-
ponding portion from the radiation of the firmament to repair this loss, and its
temperature consequently will fall.
A curious experiment made by Dufay affords a striking illustration of this
fact. He exposed a glass cup, placed in a silver basin, to the atmosphere du-
ring a cold night, and he found in the morning a copious deposition of moisture
on the glass, while the silver vessel remained perfectly dry. He next reversed
the experiment, and exposed a silver cup in a glass basin. The result was the
same : the glass was still covered with moisture, and the metal free from it.
Now metal is a bad radiator of heat, and consequently has a tendency to pre-
serve its temperature. Glass is a much better radiator, and has therefore a
| tendency to lose its temperature. These vessels being exposed to the aspect
RADIATION OF HEAT.
of a clear sky, received no considerable rays of heat to. supply the loss sus-
tained by their radiation. This loss in the metal was inconsiderable, and
therefore it maintained its temperature nearly or altogether equal to that of the
air ; the glass, however, radiating more abundantly, and absorbing little, suf-
fers a depression of temperature. The glass, therefore, presented a cold sur-
face to the air contiguous to it, and reduced the temperature of that air, until it
attained that temperature at which it was below a state of saturation with re-,
spect to the vapor with which it was charged ; a deposition of vapor, therefore,
took place on the glass.
This discovery of Dufay remained a barren fact until the attention of Dr.
Wells was directed to the subject. The result of his inquiries was the dis-
covery of the cause of the phenomena of dew, and affords one of the most
beautiful instances of inductive reasoning which any part of the history of phys-
ical discovery has presented. Dr. Wells argued that, as a clear and cloudless
sky radiates little or no heat toward the surface of the earth, all objects placed
on the surface which are good radiators must necessarily fall in temperature
during the night, if they be in a situation in which they are not exposed to the
radiation of other objects in their neighborhood. Grass and other products of
vegetation are, in general, good radiators of heat. The vegetation which cov-
ers the surface of the ground in an open, champaign country, on a clear night,
will therefore undergo a depression of temperature, because it will absorb less
heat than it radiates. This fact was ascertained by direct experiment, both by
Dr. AVells and Mr. Six. A thermometer, laid on a grass plot on a cleai night,
was observed to sink even so much as 20° below another thermometer sus-
pended at some height above the ground. The vegetables, which thus acquire
a lower temperature than the atmosphere, reduce the .air immediately contigu-
ous to them to a temperature below saturation, and a proportionally copious
condensation of vapor takes place, and a deposition of dew is formed on the
leaves and flowers of all vegetables. In fact, every object, in proportion as it
is a good radiator, receives a deposition of moisture. On the other hand, ob-
jects which are bad radiators are observed to be free from it. Blades of grass
sustain large, pellucid dew-drops, while the naked soil in their neighborhood is
free from them.
In the close and sheltered streets of cities the deposition of dew is very rare-
ly observed, because there the objects are necessarily exposed to each other's
radiation, and an interchange of heat takes place which maintains them at a
temperature uniform with that of the air. A deposition of dew, in this case,
can only take place when the natural temperature of the air falls below its point
of saturation.
In an obscure, cloudy night no deposition of dew takes place, because in this
case, although the vegetable productions radiate heat as powerfully as before,
yet the clouds are also radiators, and they transmit heat, which, being absorbed
by the vegetables, their temperature is prevented from sinking much below that
of the atmosphere.
I
METEORIC STONES & SHOOTING STABS.
( Inductive Method. — Appearances accompanying Meteorites. — Theories to explain them.— Kxnmina
lion of these Theories. — Shooting Stars. — November and Auarast Meteors. — O rbits and Distances.—
Heights. — Ch adni's Hypothesis.
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
429
METEORIC STONES & SHOOTING STARS.
WHEN we reflect upon the length of time which has elapsed since just
methods of investigating nature were first formally taught by BACON*, \ve can
not fail to be struck with surprise at witnessing the frequency with which chose
inestimable precepts are neglected and overlooked. There appears to be a dis-
position inherent in the mind — springing probably from that arrogance and vanity,
which are invariably the offspring of ignorance — that induces a disposition, in
every case, precipitately to rush to the formation of theories and the assump-
tion of causes, omitting, or postponing, the far more important though less ambi-
tious duty of analyzing phenomena. It is true that these observations are less
applicable to that order of minds which have been disciplined in the severe
schools of the old and long-established universities, where the works of BACON,
and the mathematical classics of NEWTON and LAPLACE, are studied with
a zeal and perseverance which do not fail to infuse their spirit into the minds
of their aspiring successors. But in the much larger class of half-disciplined
or self-taught aspirants to scientific rank, the disposition we refer to frequently
exists, and to a proportionate extent retards their progress, and impairs the
value of their labors.
The public teacher should, therefore, omit no proper opportunity of incul-
cating the true spirit of the inductive philosophy, which, in our day, has afforded
so rich a harvest of discovery. I shall avail myself of the opportunity which
the consideration of aerolites offers, to afford you an example of the rigorous
observance of the canons of Bacon's philosophy in the investigation of nature.
Every one possessed of the smallest amount of the current information of
the day, imagines that he knows what meteoric stones are. He knows that
they fall from the air, and that they are accompanied by fire and noise. With
this amount of information he unhesitatingly sets about to conjecture their origin,
and to get up a theory to explain them. As might be expected, the theory pro-
duced under such circumstances is always crude and absurd, and falls to pieces
upon the slightest comparison with the phenomena.
When any new and unexplained phenomenon offers itself to our inquiry, the
first duty of the investigator is to inform himself, with the most scrupulous ac-
curacy, of all the circumstances, however minute, which accompany it ; and if
past observation can not answer all circumstantial inquiries which his under-
standing may suggest as necessary, he must patiently wait the recurrence of a
like phenomenon, and diligently observe it. When he shall have thus collect-
ed all the circumstances that can be imagined to throw light on its origin, he
will then, and not until then, be in a condition to justify an inquiry into its
cause.
Let us see, then, what circumstances attending the appearance of meteorites
past observation has supplied.
It is agreed by all observers, in every part of the earth, that these meteors
manifest themselves by the appearance of a stream of light, passing with great
velocity through the firmament ; after which an explosion usually takes place,
so loud that windows and doors, and even buildings themselves, are some-
times shaken as if by an earthquake.
The phenomenon is sometimes called ball-lightning, a term which is liable
to the objection that it implies an analogy, or identity of origin, between these
meteors and common lightning ; which not only is not proved, but is attended
with no probability.
The luminous appearance and subsequent explosion attending these meteors
was long known ; the fact, however, that heavy substances, now called mete-
oric stones, were projected upon the surface of the earth at the same tine, was
not clearly proved or generally admitted until the present century. Abundant
evidence, however, has been supplied, by the vigilance and zeal of contempo-
raneous philosophers, of the reality of these deposites. Chladni, in his work
on this subject, has supplied an extensive chronological catalogue of the mete-
oric stones whose falls have been recorded in different parts of the earth, which
supplies examples of these phenomena occurring in various parts of the world
several times in each year of the present century.
The fact, then, may be regarded as conclusively established, that masses of
stony matter, of various size and magnitude, and often of very considerable
weight, are frequently seen passing athwart the heavens, with great apparent
velocity, which are afterward precipitated upon the earth with extraordinary
force.
The second circumstance I shall mention as worthy of attention is, that these
bodies rarely strike the surface of the earth in a direction either vertical or
nearly so. They generally, on the other hand, come in a direction very ob-
lique to the plane of the horizon. It may be asked, how the direction in which
they strike the earth can be ascertained unless they are seen, which rarely
happens at the moment of their fall. To this I answer, that their direction is
rendered manifest by the manner in which they penetrate the surface of the
ground — which they always do, and to a depth more or less considerable.
The velocity of their motion when they encounter the earth, is another cir-
cumstance of much importance. This velocity is discoverable by observa-
tion on their movement while visible, as well as by inferring the force with
which they struck the ground from the depth to which they penetrated.
It is accordingly found by means of such observations, that the velocities of
these bodies belong to the kind of motions which characterize the bodies of
the solar system, and such as are never witnessed upon the surface of the earth.
They are velocities which could not be imagined to be imparted by the earth's
gravitation to any masses attracted from points within the limits of the atmo-
sphere.
On examining the physical condition, and analyzing the constituents of the
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
431
masses thus precipitated, several circumstances worthy to be noted are pre-
sented. It is found that their surfaces are generally black, having a burnt ap-
pearance ; but the most remarkable circumstance attending them is, that at what-
ever time, or in whatever part of the earth they may have fallen, they generally
consist of the same constituent parts, and always very nearly in the same pro-
portion. Their ingredients are silex, magnesia, sulphur, iron, nickel, and chro-
mium. There is occasionally, but not invariably, a trace of charcoal.
It is important to observe here, that the iron and nickel found in these bodies
are always in the metallic form — a state in which they are never known to ex-
ist naturally on the surface of the earth. These metals, when found in the
earth, are invariably combined with oxygen, and it is their oxides only which
have a place among natural terrestrial substances. The iron and nickel used
in the arts are obtaiaed by the decomposition of the ores in the process of met-
allurgy.
The distances from the earth at which these meteors pass when they are
visible has been ascertained with a tolerable degree of approximation, by ob-
serving the length and position of their visible course at the same time from two
distant places. It has been found by these means that they are frequently visi-
ble at the height of from 30 to 40 miles. This is generally considered as the
limit of the height of the atmosphere.
Such are the circumstances attending the exhibition of these meteors, which
have been collected from careful and accurate information. Let us now turn
our attention to the different methods by which it has been attempted to explain
them. Three different hypotheses, or theories, have been proposed for this )
purpose.
First. — It is supposed that the matter composing them has been drawn up
from the surface of the earth in a state of infinitely minute subdivision, as va-
por is drawn from liquids ; that, being collected in clouds in the higher regions
of the atmosphere, it is there agglomerated and consolidated in masses, and
falls by its gravity to the surface of the earth ; being occasionally drawn from
the vertical direction which would be imparted to it by gravity, by the effect of
atmospheric currents, and thus occasionally striking the earth obliquely. We
shall call this the atmospheric hypothesis.
Secondly. — It is supposed that meteoric stones are ejected from volcanoes,
with sufficient force to carry them to great elevations in the atmosphere, in
falling from which they acquire the velocity and force with which they strike
the earth. The oblique direction with which they strike the ground is ex-
plained by the supposition that they may be projected from the volcanoes at
corresponding obliquities, and that, by the principles of projectiles, they must
strike the earth at nearly the same inclination as that with which they have
been ejected. This we shall call the volcanic hypothesis.
Thirdly. — It has been supposed that these bodies are not either terrestrial or
atmospheric, but belonging to the solar system ; and that their origin is the
same as that which has produced the small planets which have been discovered
moving between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter.
This theory supposes that, at some former epoch, the solar system possessed
a planet which revolved round the sun at the distance of two hundred and fifty
millions of miles ; a supposition which is rendered highly probable, if not mor-
ally certain, by reasons which are fully detailed in my discourse on the new
planets. The catastrophe by which this former planet was broken into pieces
is supposed to have been produced, either by internal explosion (from some
cause similar to that which produces on the earth volcanoes and earthquakes),
or by the collision of a comet. It is supposed that the new planets are not the
only fragments which resulted, but that innumerable smaller pieces may have
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
been scattered about the system, which, owing to their extreme minuteness,
may have been subject to disturbing causes that have occasionally brought them
so near the earth, that they have been drawn by its attraction within the limits
of the atmosphere, and have ultimately, by the resistance of that fluid, fallen
apon the earth. We shall call this the planetary hypothesis.
Fourthly. — It has been suggested by LAPLACE, that meteoric stones may be
substances ejected from lunar volcanoes, either now or formerly in active opera-
tion. He has proved that no very improbable amount of mechanical force would
be sufficient to produce such an effect, since there is no atmosphere around the
moon, or, at least, none that could be sufficient to offer a sensible resistance to
the motion of a solid body. The force, therefore, that would be required is
only that which would be sufficient to overcome the moon's attraction, which is
found by calculation to be about four times the force with which a ball is ex-
pelled from a cannon with the ordinary charge of gunpowder. A body pro-
jected toward the earth, with the velocity of about eight thousand feet per sec-
ond from the lunar surface, would rise to such a height that it would arrire at
a point between the earth and moon where the attraction of the earth would
predominate and prevent its return. It would, consequently, continue to move
toward the earth with accelerated speed, and, arriving within the limits of the
atmosphere, would necessarily reach the surface. We shall call this the lunar
hypothesis.
Fifthly. — It has been supposed that meteoric stones, showers of dust, and
other similar meteorological phenomena, proceed from chaotic matter which
prevails in the spaces within which the planets move, and which is generally
but irregularly diffused throughout the universe, producing in the heavens the
appearances called nebulae. This matter is supposed to lie irregularly in the
space through which the earth annually passes and its neighborhood ; that it
is occasionally brought by the attraction of the earth within the limits of the
atmosphere, and thus descends to the surface. This we shall call the nebular
hypothesis.
Such are the various theories which have been offered to explain the phe-
nomena attending meteoric stones. The evolution of light which attends their
rapid progress through space has been accounted for in all of them in the same
manner. It is supposed that, in the rapid motion with which the body pro-
ceeds, the air which lies in its path is so extremely condensed, as either to be-
come itself luminous, or to acquire so intense a heat as to render the stone in-
candescent, or, perhaps, to produce upon it even- a superficial combustion, the
signs of which are exhibited in the blackness which marks the surface of these
bodies. This reasoning is attempted to be supported by the well-known ex-
periment of the fire-syringe. In that instrument a solid piston is fitted in a
cylinder, so as to be air-tight, carrying a piece of amadou or other easily com-
bustible matter, at its end. When the piston is suddenly forced down, so as to
produce an instantaneous and severe compression of the air under it, tru"1 ama-
dou takes fire, and, if the cylinder be glass, a flash of light is visible through
it. It has therefore been contended, that in this experiment the air under
the piston has acquired, by compression, such a temperature as renders it lu-
minous.
More recent experiments, however, made in France (an account of which
has fallen in my way), throw doubt upon the validity of this inference. It
is said that the unctuous matter commonly used to lubricate the piston in the
fire-syringe is, in fact, the source of the ignition ; for that, when experiments
were made with pistons not so lubricated, the flash of light was not produced.
It is, therefore, considered not to be satisfactorily proved, that air by mere me-
chanical compression can ever become luminous. Still, however, it might be con-
L
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STABS.
tended that, even though the air were not to become luminous, it might, never-
theless, be raised to such a temperature by compression as, by contact with
the meteorite, might render the latter luminous ; but, even admitting the possi-
bility of this supposition, as applied to the air contiguous to the earth, or even
at any moderate elevation, an almost insuperable difficulty arises from the vavt
height at which meteorites have been visible. By barometric experiments and
observations made on the duration of the morning and evening twilight, it may
be considered as proved, that beyond the elevation of thirty miles there exists
no atmosphere possessing any sensible mechanical properties. We may safely
conclude that at such elevations the air, if any really exists there, must be so
infinitely attenuated as to be divested of all sensible resistance or inertia. The
space there must, for example, be a more absolute vacuum than any which
could be produced under the receiver of the most perfect philosophical air-
pump ; how, then, can we imagine such a compression of that fluid to be pro-
duced, as would be necessary to evolve the enormous temperature requisite to
render luminous the matter composing meteoric stones ? still less to become lu-
minous itself.
In short, it must be admitted that none of these theories afford a satisfactory
explanation of the luminous appearances which accompany these meteors. Let
us, however, examine these theories respectively, and see how far they \vill
bear a further comparison with the actual circumstances of the phenomena.
The atmospheric hypothesis is subject to objections so unanswerable, that it
may be considered as altogether set aside. In order to suppose it probable that
aerolites could be formed in the atmosphere, we must show that their constituent
elements can exist there. We know that hail and snow can be formed in the
air, because it can be proved that aqueous vapor is suspended there,, ajid that a
temperature is sometimes produced there so low as to convert tha,t vapor, first,
into a liquid, and then into the solid form of snow or hail. But th,e most rigor-
ous analysis has never detected in the atmosphere any of the constituents of
meteoric stones, nor is there any proof that the constituent principles of the air
could dissolve, evaporate, or sublimate such substances. Nor can it be said
that, although the atmosphere which immediately surrounds us may not have
such properties, yet, that at the great elevations in which meteorites are formed,
the air may consist of different constituents, for, besides the fact that it has been }
ascertained by direct analysis that the atmosphere, at all elevations to which *
man has ever yet attained, consists of exactly the same constituents, in exactly <•
the same proportions, there is a general law, which prevails among all gaseous j
substances, that when different gases are superposed they will, notwithstanding {
their different degrees of levity, ultimately mingle so as to forrn a uniform (.
mass ; thus, if we could imagine for a moment a stratum of air to exist near the
top of the atmosphere, having constituents different from those around us, such.
stratum would gradually intermingle with the strata below it, until the whole-
would acquire a uniform quality. It is, therefore, physically impossible thav
there can exist in any elevated region of the air any substances capable of dis-
solving or sublimating the matter of meteoric stones.
To these objections we may add others. Although it may be admitted, as Ala-
go argues, that the constituent principles of aerolites should really exist in the
atmosphere at all heights, and that they only escape analysis because of ikeir
extreme minuteness, it would still be necessary to explain with such feeble and
such dispersed elements a sudden precipitation, yielding stones of several hun-
dred weight, such as those preserved at Ensenheim, in Alsace, or 3,000 or 4,000
stones of various dimensions, like those which were separated and shot off by
the Laigle meteor. It would be necessary to assign the cause that combines
the scattered molecules, and forms them into a single mass. It is not affinity,
as
434
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
for the elements composing aerolites are not in a state of combination, but sim-
ply agglomerated and held together in juxtaposition. And yet, if they are not
subjected to any force, these little globuL-s ought to fall separately as they are
formed. It is in vain to object that they might be suspended, for more or less
time, by a cause analogous to that which, according to the ingenious opinion
of Volta, balances the particles of hail between two clouds, so as to give them
time to enlarge by the addition of new layers of ice. The fact still remains,
that these latter have never been seen to amount to several hundred weight,
though the elements that form hail are much more abundant in the air than those
of aerolites are supposed to be. Besides, in Volta's theory, the suspension of
hail in the atmosphere is attributed to the reciprocal action of electric clouds,
a cause which can not be in like manner adapted to the formation of aerolites,
since the meteors that carry them sometimes burst in the clearest weather.
But even granting all this, and admitting the formation of aerolites in the at-
mosphere by some unknown agency, how shall we account for the circumstan-
ces attending their collision with the surface of the earth 1 According to this
theory, they would move to the surface of the earth by the operation of terres-
trial gravity alone, and would meet the earth with a velocity due to the height
from which they fell. Now the actual velocities with which they are known
to strike the earth could never be acquired under the mere agency of terrestrial
gravity, through any height within the ordinary limits of the air.
But, if the velocity of the meteorites be incompatible with this theory, their
direction is still more so. Their obliquity could never be produced by any con-
ceivable atmospheric current.
We may, therefore, safely pronounce the atmospheric theory to be incom-
patible with the ascertained circumstances of the phenomena, and to require
admissions inconsistent with the established principles of physics.
The volcanic theory is subject to objections as decisive as that we have first
examined. The nature of the substances ejected from terrestrial volcanoes is
well known, and we do not find among them the substances which form the
constituents of meteorites ; besides this, it is found that meteoric stones fall on
parts of the earth so remote from volcanoes, and at times so distant from any
known extensive eruptions, that it is impossible to admit the supposition that
they have proceeded from this cause. For these and other reasons, needless
to dwell on, the volcanic hypothesis is set aside.
The planetary hypothesis is subject to less difficulty, and is much more in
harmony with the phenomena. The velocity and direction of meteoric stones
when they strike the earth are quite in accordance with this theory, and the
existence in them of constituents like metallic iron and nickel, which have no
natural existence on the earth, is also explicable ; but these circumstances are
equally accounted for by all the extra terrestrial theories, and afford, therefore,
no more countenance to the planetary than to the lunar or nebular hypothesis.
On the other hand, a serious difficulty is presented in the uniform analysis of
the meteorites. How can it be supposed that all the various fragments of a
broken planet should consist of the same constituents in the very same propor-
tion ? If the earth were split in pieces by any cause internal or external, would
its fragments be so uniform in its constituents ? Assuredly not. We should
find fragments of very heterogeneous character. One would consist of a mass
of sandstone, another a lump of granite ; here would be an agglomerate of one
kind, there of another. It is, therefore, in the highest degree improbable that
the fragments of another planet should be uniform in their constituents, and this
improbability is rendered greater by the fact that the meteorites are composed
of heterogeneous materials, mechanically agglomerated, and not of a uniform
substance, composed of different elements, united like those of water or air.
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
435
Until, therefore, the advocates of the planetary hypothesis can remove these
difficulties, that theory cannot be admitted.
The lunar hypothesis appears to be compatible, generally, with the circum-
stances of aerolites. It explains satisfactorily enough the force and direction
of their collision with the earth. If it be admitted that they proceed from the
same lunar volcano, or that all lunar volcanoes eject the same kind of substan-
ces, the similarity of their constituents will be explained ; in short, all that is
> necessary to raise the lunar hypothesis to the rank of a theory is to prove the
fact that there really do exist volcanoes in the moon. Now although observa-
tion has supplied circumstances which give some probability to that idea, yet
it is still very far from being clearly established. Telescopic examination of
the lunar surface, has certainly and clearly established the fact that it is covered
in every part that is visible with mountains, having all the external forms and char-
acters of terrestrial volcanoes. The craters are not only distinctly visible, but
we have been enabled to ascertain the existence of the cones within them.
Sir John Herschel, who has had the advantage of observing with the most \
powerful reflecting telescopes, has declared that the generality of the lunar
mountains present a striking uniformity and singularity of aspect. They are
wonderfully numerous, occupying by far the larger portion of the surface, and
almost universally of an exactly circular or cup-shaped form, foreshortened,
however, into ellipses toward the limb ; but the larger have for the most part
flat bottoms within, from which rises centrally a small, steep, conical hill.
They offer, in short, in its highest perfection, the true volcanic character, as it
may be seen in the crater of Vesuvius, and in a map of the volcanic districts
of the Campi Phlegraei or the Puy de Dome. And in some of the principal
ones, decisive marks of volcanic stratification, arising from successive depos-
ites of ejected matter, may be clearly traced with powerful telescopes. What
is, moreover, extremely singular in the geology of the moon is, that although
nothing having the character of seas can be traced (for the dusky spots which
are commonly called ceas, when closely examined, present appearances incom-
patible with the supposition of deep water), yet there are large regions per-
fectly level, and apparently of a decidedly alluvial character.
But this condition of things may have resulted from volcanic action, which
took place at an epoch long antecedent to the commencement of the present
condition of our globe, and it may be required to establish the fact of the pres-
ent existence of active volcanoes on the moon.
To this it may be answered, first, that if active volcanoes existed at any re-
mote period, the substances ejected from them may have been ever since re-
volving in the space around the earth, and that they may now, from time to
time, become entangled in the earth's atmosphere and descend to the surface.
Secondly, it may be replied that we do possess indications of the present
existence of lunar volcanoes, inasmuch as bright, luminous spots have been
detected by various astronomers at different times and places, on the occasion
of total eclipses of the sun, on the surface of the moon, then dark, and that it is
impossible, on the one hand, to deny the existence of what has been witnessed
by so many competent observers, and that no other supposition has been offer-
ed to explain such luminous spots, except one, which from its extreme improb-
ability cannot be seriously entertained, namely, that which supposes the sun
to have been rendered visible by holes through the moon.
Thus, then, stands the lunar theory of meteorites. It is exempt from most
of the difficulties and objections that attend the other hypotheses, but neverthe-
less, until it be actually established beyond all question that there are, or have
been, active volcanoes on the moon, and that substances ejected from these
have actually fallen upon the earth, the luna^theory of meteorites cannot be
436
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
pronounced to be established according to the rigid rules of inductive phi-
losophy.
The nebular hypothesis can scarcely be regarded in a more definite point of
view than as a conjecture. We have no observation to prove what the nature
of the nebulous matter is, nor whether it is solid, liquid, or gaseous. We know
that as it exists in the stellar regions it is self-luminous ; but there is no indi-
cation of such a quality in any matter existing in the solar system. It
may also be contended that if it exist within the solar system in the quantity-
contemplated in this hypothesis, we might expect it to be visible, if not by its
own light, at least by the reflected light of the sun.
From the exposition I have here given it will be perceived that the origin
of meteoric stones is still involved in much obscurity. We may, perhaps, pro-
nounce with some degree of confidence that they are not of terrestrial origin,
nor generated in the atmosphere, and that strictly speaking they are cosmical.
But we are not yet in possession of all the information which observa-
tion may supply respecting them. It is not yet clearly ascertained whether
they are identical with the appearances so often exhibited in the heavens, call-
ed shooting stars, nor has the cause of this latter meteor been explained. A
great impediment to the correct information of these phenomena, arises from
the fact that their exhibition in the heavens is not preceded by any circumstance
which can prepare the observer for them, and their continuance is seldom long
enough to afford opportunity for correct observations. We are, therefore, com-
pelled to collect from scattered sources, and loose records, much of ths infor-
mation which is available respecting them.
One of the most interesting narratives of this kind on record is that of a
meteor which appeared in America, on the 13th of November, 1833. It was
published in the American Journal of Science, and is entitled to especial notice.
The following is an abstract of this narrative : —
The meteors began to attract notice by their frequency as early as 9 o'clock
on the preceding evening (November 12) ; the exhibition became strikingly
brilliant about 11 o'clock, but most splendid of all about 4 o'clock, and continued
with but little intermission until darkness merged in the light of day. A few large
fire-balls were seen even after the sun had risen. The entire extent of the
exhibition is not ascertained, but it covered no inconsiderable portion of the
earth's surface. It has been traced from the longitude of 61° in the Atlantic
ocean, to longitude of 100° in central Mexico, and from the North American
lakes to the southern side of the island of Jamaica. Everywhere within these
limits, the first appearance was that of fire-works of the most imposing gran-
deur, covering the entire vault of heaven with myriads of fire-balls resembling
sky-rockets. On more attentive inspection, it was seen that the meteors ex-
hibited three distinct varieties ; the first consisting of phosphoric lines, appa-
rently described by a point : the second of large fire-balls, that at intervals
darted along the sky, leaving numerous trains, which occasionally remained in
view for a number of minutes, and in some cases for half an hour or more ;
the third, of undefined, luminous bodies, which remained nearly stationary for
a long time.
One of the most remarkable circumstances attending this display was, that
the meteors all seemed to emanate from one and the same point. They set out
at different distances from this point, and proceeded with immense velocity,
describing, in some instances, an arc of 30° or 40° in less than four seconds.
At Poland, on the Ohio, a meteor (of the third variety) was distinctly visible in
the northeast for more than an hour. At Charleston, South Carolina, another
of extraordinary size was seen to course the heavens for a great length of
time, and then was heard to explode with the noise of a cannon. The point
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS. 437
from which the meteors seemed to emanate, was observed by those who
fixed its position among the stars to be in the constellation Leo ; and what
is very remarkable, this point was stationary among the stars during the
whole period of observation ; that is to say, it did not move along with
the earth in its diurnal rotation eastward, but accompanied the stars in their
apparent progress westward. It is not certain whether the meteors were,
in general, accompanied by any peculiar sound. A few observers reported that
they heard a hissing noise, like the rushing of a sky-rocket, and slight explo-
sions, like the bursting of the same bodies. Nor does it appear that any sub-
stance reached the ground which could be clearly established to be a residu-
um or deposite from the meteors. A remarkable change of weather from
warm to cold, accompanied the meteoric shower, or immediately followed it, in
all parts of the United States.
From these circumstances and other particulars recorded, it has been infer-
red that had these meteors appeared to emanate from a point not in the direction
of the earth's rotation, they had not their origin in the atmosphere. By com-
paring observations made upon them in different latitudes, it was calculated
that their distance from the surface of the earth must have been above 2,000
miles. Assuming this result, which is, however, only an approximation, the
velocity with which they would enter the atmosphere may be computed.
A body falling from the height of 2,000 miles would acquire by the attrac-
tion of gravity, at 50 miles from the earth, where it might be supposed to en-
ter the atmosphere, a velocity of four miles per second, being ten times the
velocity of a cannon-ball. It is contended, therefore, that on entering the at-
mosphere they would produce a sudden compression of air, and corresponding
evolution of heat. That the heat thus produced would render the bodies in-
candescent, and if they were combustible, would set them on fire. It is argued
that the quantity of heat which would be extricated from the air by such com-
pression would exceed that of the hottest furnace ; but that if the velocity
arising from the earth's motion were added to the proper velocity of the body
itself, which it must be, if these motions are contrary, there would then be an
effective velocity of fourteen, instead of four miles per second, and a still
greater amount of heat would be produced. It is argued that these meteors
must have been constituted of very light materials ; for if their quantity of
matter had been considerable, with so great a velocity they would have had
sufficient momentum to reach the earth, and the most disastrous consequences
might have ensued. From the apparent magnitude of many of the meteors,
and their probable distance, it was conjectured that they were bodies of a very
large size, although it was impossible to ascertain their magnitude with any
certainty. It was supposed that they were only stopped in the atmosphere, and
prevented from reaching the earth by transferring their motion to columns of air,
large volumes of which they would suddenly and violently displace. It was con-
sidered remarkable that the state of the weather, and the condition of the seasons
following this meteoric shower, were just such as might have been anticipated
from these disturbing circumstances of the atmospheric equilibrium. Such
were the speculations to which this remarkable phenomenon gave rise.
Whatever be the origin of the phenomena of shooting stars, it cannot fail to
be interesting to learn the principal circumstances which observation has col-
lected respecting them.
Their apparent magnitudes are very various. Sometimes they are not bright-
er or larger than the smallest star visible to the naked eye, and at other times
they surpass in splendor the most brilliant of the planets. Sometimes the glob-
ular form can be distinctly recognised upon them, and they are not distinguish-
able from the meteors called fire-balls.
438 METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
Shooting stars seem to prevail equally in every climate and in every state of
the weather. They are occasionally seen at all seasons of the year, but more c
frequently in summer or at the end of the autumn. They appear usually to be ]
followed by a luminous train of intensely white light.
A question will immediately arise, whether this be a real continued physical |
line of light, or whether it must not rather be ascribed to the same cause which,
makes us see a complete circle of light when a lighted stick revolves rapidly in
a circle. In that case the circle of light is not real, the effect being an optical
illusion. The membrane of the eye which is affected by light has been ascer-
tained to preserve the impression made upon it for about one tenth of a second
after the cause which produced that impression has ceased to act. We, conse-
quently, continue to see a visible object in any position for a tenth of a sec-
ond after it has left that position. If, then, a luminous object move over a cer-
tain space in one tenth of a second, the eye will see it at the same time in
every part of that space, and consequently, that space will appear one contin-
uous line of light.
If, therefore, the luminous train which is visible after a shooting star, extends
through a space over which the star moved in one tenth of a second, it is then
possible that such luminous train may be illusory, being a mere optical effect
of the rapid motion of the star. But if it be longer than this, or if it be visible
in one place for more than the tenth of a second after the star has moved from
that place, then it cannot be explained on this principle and must be admitted
to be an actual train of light. Now it is stated by observers of these meteors,
that the trains are sometimes seen for several minutes. In the case of actual
fire-balls, Dr. Olbers observed trains which continued visible for six or seven
minutes, and Brandes in one instance estimated that fifteen minutes elapsed
between the extinction of the fire-ball and the disappearance of the luminous
train. In general the trains have the same hollow, cylindrical appearance as
the tails of comets, their inner part appearing to be void of luminous matter,
and a further resemblance to comets is exhibited in the curved form, which
they sometimes assume.
Various and discordant have been the explanations offered of these luminous
trains. Some have ascribed them to an oily sulphurous vapor existing in the
atmosphere, which, being disposed in thin layers and becoming inflamed
would exhibit the appearance of a brilliant spark passing rapidly from point to
point. Beccaria and Vassali considered them to be lines of electrical sparks,
an hypothesis, however, which has been abandoned. Lavoisier, Volta, and
others, explain these meteors by supposing that hydrogen gas accumulated, by
its lightness, in the higher regions of the atmosphere, was inflamed. But the
general law of gases, which gives them a tendency to mingle, notwithstanding
the effect of their specific gravities, puts aside this hypothesis.
In the year 1798 an investigation of the heights of shooting stars was un-
dertaken by Brandes, at Leipsig, and Benzenberg, at Dasseldorf. Having se-
lected a base line (about nine miles in length), they placed themselves at its ex-
tremities, on appointed nights, and observed all the shooting stars which ap-
peared, tracing their courses through the heavens on a celestial map, and
noting the instants of their appearances and extinctions by chronometers pre- )
viously compared. The difference of the paths traced on the heavens afforded
data for the determination of the parallaxes, and consequently the heights and
the lengths of the orbits. On six evenings, between September and Novem-
ber, the whole number of shooting stars seen by both observers was 402 : of
these, 22 were identified as having been observed by each in such a manner
that the altitude of the meteor above the ground at the instant of extinction
could be computed. The least of the altitudes was about 6 English miles. Of
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS. 439
the whole, there were 7 under 45 miles ; 9 between 45 and 90 ; 6 above 90 ;
and the highest was above 140 miles. There were only two observed so com-
pletely as to afford data for determining the velocity. The first gave 25 miles,
and the second from 17 to 21 miles, in a second. The most remarkable result
was, that one of them, certainly, was observed not to fall, but to move in a
direction away from the earth.
By these observations a precise idea was first obtained of the altitudes, dis-
tances, and velocities, of these singular meteors. A similar but more extended
plan of observation was organized by Brandes, in 1823, and carried into effect
at Breslau and the neighboring towns, by a considerable number of persons,
observing at the same time on concerted nights. Between April and October
about 1800 shooting stars were noted at the different places — out of which
number 62 were found which had been observed simultaneously at more than
one station, in such a manner that their respective altitudes could be deter-
mined, and 36 others of which the observations furnished data for estimating
the entire orbits. Of these 98, the heights (at the time of extinction) of 4 were
computed to be under 15 English miles ; of 13, between 15 and 30 miles ; of
22, between 30 and 45 ; of 33, between 45 and 70 ; of 13, between 70 and 90 ;
and of 11, above 90 miles. Of these last, two had an altitude of about 140
miles, one of 220 miles, one of 280, and there was one of which the height
was estimated to exceed 460 miles.
On the 36 computed orbits, in 26 instances the motion was downward, in
one case horizontal, and in the remaining nine more or less upward. The
velocities were between 18 and 36 miles in a second. The trajectories were
frequently not straight lines, but incurvated, sometimes in the horizontal and
sometimes in the vertical direction, and sometimes they were of a serpentine
form. The predominating direction of the motion of the meteors from north-
east to southwest, contrary to that of the earth in its orbit, was very remarka-
ble, and is important in reference to their physical theory.
A similar set of observations was made in Belgium, in 1824, under the di-
rection of M. Quetelet, the results of which are published in the Annnaire de
Bruxdles for 1837. M. Quetelet was chiefly solicitous to determine the velocity
of the meteors. He obtained six corresponding observations, from which this
element could be deduced, and the result varied from 10 to 25 English miles
in a second. The mean of the six results gave a velocity of nearly 17 miles
per second, a little less than that of the earth in its orbit.
Another set of corresponding observations was made in Switzerland, on the
10th of August, 1838, a circumstantial account of which is given by M. Wart-
manri in QueleleCs Correspondence Mathematique for July, 1839. M. Wart-
mann and five other observers, provided with celestial charts, stationed them-
selves at the observatory of Geneva, and the corresponding observations were
made at Planchettes, a village about sixty miles to the northeast of that city.
In the space of seven and a half hours the number of meteors observed by the
six observers at Geneva was 381, and during five and a half hours the number
observed at Planchettes by two observers, was 104. All the circumstances of
the phenomena — the place of the apparition and disappearance of each meteor,
the time it continued visible, its brightness relatively to the fixed stars, whether
accompanied with a train, &c. — were carefully noted, and the trajectories de-
scribed by the meteors, were very different, varying from 8° to 70° of angular
space. The velocities appeared also to differ considerably ; but the average
velocity was supposed by M. Wartmann to be 25° per second. It was found,
from the comparison of the simultaneous observations, that the average height
above the ground was about 550 miles ; and hence the relative velocity was
computed to be about 240 miles in a second. But as the greater number
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
moved in a direction opposite to that of the earth in its orbit, the relative ve-
locity must be diminished by the earth's velocity (about 19 miles in a second),
this still leaves upward of 220 miles per second for the absolute velocity of the
meteor, which is more than 1 1 times the orbitual velocity of the earth, seven
and a half times that of the planet Mercury, and probably greater than that of
many of the comets at their perihelion.
Such are the principal facts which have yet been established respecting the
heights, velocities, and orbits, of the shooting stars : and it is from these,
chiefly, that we are enabled to form any probable conjectures respecting their
origin. And since it is now established that no difference is observable be-
tween the larger shooting stars and small fire-balls, both having similar altitudes
and velocities, and presenting absolutely the same appearances, we may as-
sume them to be of the same nature, and that whatever has been proved re-
specting fire-balls will apply equally to the larger shooting stars. Whether
the meteoric appearances to which the latter term is applied may not include
objects of totally different natures, is a question admitting a doubt. It is possi-
ble that among the shooting stars there may be objects which are merely electric
sparks, or which have their origin in spontaneously-inflammable gases, known
or unknown, existing in the atmosphere ; but the greater part of them must be
considered as identical with fire-balls.
The lunar hypothesis advanced by Laplace, Berzelius, and others, to ex-
plain meteoric stones, appears to be attended with serious difficulties, if, in-
deed, it be not altogether incompatible with the phenomena of shooting stars. In
order to enter our atmosphere with a velocity of 20 miles in a second, it may
be shown that, if they come from the moon, they must have been projected from
the lunar surface with a velocity of about 120,000 feet, in a second, which may
be regarded as almost impossible.
It thus appears that those shooting stars and fire-balls which have the plane-
tary velocity of from 20 to 40 miles in a second, cannot, with any probability,
be regarded as having their origin in the moon. Whether any individual bod-
ies, moving with a smaller velocity, may have a lunar origin, is a question
( which cannot be decisively answered. "To me," says Dr. Olbers, "it does
) not appear at all probable ; and I regard the moon, in its present circumstan-
i ces, as an extremely peaceable neighbor, which, ftom its want of water and
y atmosphere, is no longer capable of any strong explosions."
I The hypothesis first suggested by Chladni is that which appears to have
) met with most favor, having been adopted by Arago and other eminent astrono-
( mers of the present clay to explain the November phenomena. It consists in
; supposing that, independently of the great planets, there exist in the planetary
( regions myriads of small bodies which circulate about the sun, generally in
) groups of zones, and that some of these zones intersect the ecliptic, and are,
{ consequently, encountered by the earth in its annual revolution. The princi-
) pal difficulties attending this theory are the following : —
J First, that bodies moving in groups in the circumstances supposed, must
necessarily move in the same direction, and consequently they become visi-
ble from one point and move toward the opposite. Now although the observa-
tions seem to show that the predominating direction is from northeast to south-
west, yet shooting stars are observed on the same nights to emanate from all
points of the heavens, and to move in all possible directions. Secondly, their
average velocity (especially as determined by Wartmann), greatly exceeds that
which any body circulating about the sun can have at the distance of the earth.
Thirdly, from their appearance, and the luminous train which they generally
leave behind them, and which often remains visible for several seconds, some-
times for whole minutes, and also from their being situated within the earth's
shadow, and at heights far exceeding those at which the atmosphere can be
supposed capable of supporting combustion, it is manifest that their light is not
reflected from the sun, they must therefore be self-luminous, which is contrary
to every analogy of the solar system. Fourthly, if masses of solid matter ap-
proached so near the earth as many of the shooting-stars do, some of them
would inevitably be attracted to it, but of the thousands of shooting-stars which
have been observed, there is no authenticated instance of any one having ac-
tually reached the earth. Fifthly, instead of the meteors being attracted to
the earth, some of them are observed actually to rise upward and to describe
orbits which are convex toward the earth, a circumstance of which, on the
present hypothesis, it seems difficult to give any rational explanation.
From the difficulties attending every hypothesis which has hitherto been
proposed, it may be inferred how very little real knowledge has yet been ob-
tained respecting the nature of the shooting-stars. It is certain that they ap-
pear at great altitudes above the earth, and that they move with prodigious
velocity, but everything else respecting them is involved in profound mystery.
From the whole of the facts, M. Wartmann thinks that the most rational con-
clusion we can adopt is, that the meteors probably owe their origin to the dis-
engagement of electricity, or of some analogous matter, which takes place in
the celestial regions on every occasion in which the conditions necessary for
the production of the phenomena are renewed.
The presumption in favor of the cosmical origin of the shooting stars are
chiefly founded on their periodical recurrence at certain epochs of the year,
and the extraordinary displays of the phenomena in various years on the nights
of the 12th or 13th of November.
We shall here merely-state the principal circumstances accompanying those
of 1799, which put the notion of a lunar origin entirely out of the question.
On the morning of the 12th of November, 1799, before sunrise, Humboldt
and Bonpland, then on the coast of Mexico, were witnesses to a remarkable
exhibition of shooting stars arid fire-balls. They filled the part of the heavens
extending from due east to about 30° toward the north and south. They rose
from the horizon between the east and northeast points, described arcs of un-
equal magnitude, and fell toward the south ; some of them rose to the height
of 40°, all above 25° or 30°. Many of them appeared to explode, but the
larger number disappeared without emitting sparks ; some had a nucleus ap-
parently equal to Jupiter. This most remarkable spectacle was seen at the
same time in Camana, on the borders of Brazil, in French Guiana, in the chan-
nel of Bahama, on the continent of North America, in Labrador, and in Green-
land, and even at Carlsruhe, Halle, and other places in Germany, many shoot-
ing stars were seen on the same day. At Nain and HorTenthal in Labrador,
and at Neuhernhut and Lichtenau in Greenland, the meteors seem to have ap-
peared the nearest to the earth. At Nain they fell toward all points of the
horizon, and some of them had a diameter which the spectators estimated at
half an ell. (See Humboldt's Recueil des Voyages, &c., Vol. II.)
A not less stupendous exhibition took place in North America on the night
of the 12th of November, 1833. In 1834 similar phenomena occurred on the
night of the 13th of November; but on this occasion the meteors were of a
smaller size. In 1835, 1836, and 1838, shooting stars were observed on the
night of November 13, in different parts of the world, but though diligently
looked for on the same nights in 1839 and 1840, they do not appear to- have
been more numerous than on other nights about the same season of the year.
The second great meteoric epoch is the 10th of August, first pointed out
by M. Quetelet, and although no displays similar to those of the November
\ period have been witnessed on this night, there are more instances of the re-
V^^y^X^^^^^^ ' ^^X^^^X^^^^>*^N.^N^^^>^^V^^X^^^^^^^X-^r^x**-^»^»^^^*
442
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
currence of the phenomena. In the last three years (1838, 1839, 1840),
shooting stars were observed in great numbers both on the 9th and 10th ; but
they appear in general to be unusually abundant during the first two weeks of
August. The other periods which have been remarked, are the 18th of Octo-
ber, the 23d or 24th of April, the 6th and 7th of December, the nights from
the loth to the 20th of June, and the 2d of January.
Halley first suggested the idea that the shooting stars may be observed as
signals for determining differences of latitude by simultaneous observations,
and Maskelyiie in 1783 published a paper on the subject, in which he c;tlls
the attention of astronomers to the phenomena, and distinctly points out this
application. The idea was revived by Benzenberg in 1802, but so long as
they were regarded merely as casual phenomena, it could scarcely be hoped
that they would be of much use in this respect to practical astronomy. As
soon, however, as their periodicity became probable, the phenomena acquired
a new interest, and some recent attempts to determine longitudes in this man-
ner have proved that the method is not to be disregarded.
The probability of the conjecture that the causes of the meteoric phenomena
observed in the months of August and November is to be found in the fact that
tfie particular regions of the solar system through which the earth passes at
these seasons, are the seats of an unusual quantity of the matter composing
these meteors, must in a great degree depend on the extent to which it can be
proved by observation that such meteors do really prevail at each of those
periods of the year.
With a view of testing this, I have collected together, from various sources,
the dates of the most remarkable atmospheric appearances of this class from
the eighth century to the present time. In the following table, the day of the
month when it has been recorded, is placed in the column under the month,
and in the line with the year of the occurrence. Where an asterisk occurs
under the month, the particular night has not been recorded, but the appear-
ance has merely been mentioned as having occurred.
;
METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS. 443
Years.
Jan.
Feb.
March.
April.
May.
June.
July.
Aug.
Sept.
Oct.
Nov.
Dec.
763
902
1029
1092
1202
1741
1777
1779
1781
1784
1785
1798
1799
1803
1805
1806
1811
1812
1813
1815
1818
1819
1819
1820
1822
1823
1823
1824
1826
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1836
1837
•
•
19
25
7
•
25
17
9
8
9
27
27
9
11
?
8
19
12
12
6
12
13
13
13
13
13
13
22
23
•
10
10
18
11
10
14
6
13
9
2
10
15
10
14
14
10
14
10
14
10
10
10
8
10
10
There are here recorded fifty-two nights on which these appearances pre-
vail to such a degree as to attract particular notice. Of these, twenty-six oc-
curred between the 8th and 15th of August, and thirteen the 6th and 19th of
November. Thus three fourths of the nights recorded correspond to the epochs
to which we have referred.
We have not seen any sufficiently precise account of the number of these
phenomena which were observed in November, 1837, and in July, 1838.
Fewer were noticed in Paris in November, 1837, than were expected; but on
the night, between the 15th and 16th, seventeen were seen at that place by
M. Arago, within a minute and a half. At Jamble, in the department of the
Seine and Loire, thirty-nine were observed on the night between the 14th and
15th ; and ten were observed at Marseilles on the night between the 12th and
13th ; six were observed on the same night at Geneva, and four at Montpellier.
Some disappointment was produced in 1837, by the circumstance of an un-
usually small number being seen on the night between the 12th and 13th, >
arising from an erroneous impression that that was the night on which their ,
periodical return should be expected. It will be seen, however, from the pre- |
444 METEORIC STONES AND SHOOTING STARS.
ceding table, that these appearances have not at all been confined to the night
of the 12th ; but independently of this, the night of the 12th at Paris was so
bright, that stars of the second magnitude were not visible, and consequently
meteors — even supposing them to have existed of similar or of inferior bright-
ness— could not have been observed. It should also be considered, that their
non-appearance at any particular place, is no proof of their non-existence in
our atmosphere. They may be produced during the day, or they may be pro-
duced in a part of the atmosphere not visible from the place in question. Thus,
in 1833, when they were a general object of terror to the people of America,
they attracted but little attention in Europe. On the other hand, they some-
times appear contemporaneously in the atmosphere on opposite sides of the
globe. In 1837, they were observed from the French ship Bonite, on the
other side of the globe, while on the same day in Europe, a vast number ap-
peared.
On the night of the 12th of November, 1836, Sir John Herschel observed
these phenomena at the cape of Good Hope. Their number was not very
considerable, but their motion had a marked regularity ; they appeared to
diverge from a centre or focus, which preserved a fixed position with respect
to the horizon, but had no such fixed relation to the objects on the firmament.
This point, or centre, to which their common directions converged, was a point
of about thirty degrees above the horizon, and sixty degrees west of north.
On the night of the 9th of August, 1837, M. Warlmann observed these phe-
nomena at Geneva ; between nine o'clock, P. M., and midnight, eighty-two
were seen in different parts of the heavens. They were most frequent about
ten o'clock, and then appeared to emanate from a centre or focus situated be-
tween the star B, in the constellation of Bootes, and the star A, in the con-
stellation of the Dragon. At a quarter past ten, twenty-seven were seen, and
were remarkable for their bright bluish light. Other observers in the same
neighborhood and on the same night, counted one hundred and forty-nine in
one part of the heavens, between a quarter before nine and half past eleven
o'clock.
Of these hundred and forty-nine meteors, three had the appearance of round
disks, or globes, of a ruddy red color, measuring from 4 to 5 minutes in di-
ameter, being about one sixth part of the moon's diameter. Twenty-six were
more brilliant than the planet Venus, and of resplendent whiteness ; the re-
mainder had the appearance of stars from the first to the third magnitude, their
colors varying between blue, yellow, and orange.
On the night of the llth of November, 1832, M. Tharand, a retired officer
at Limoges, stated that workmen who were employed in laying the foundation of
the bridge over the river Vienne, observed the firmament brilliant, with meteors,
which at first only amused them, but after some hours the number and splen-
dor of these luminous appearances were so greatly augmented, that the people
were seized with panics, and so great was their terror, that they abandoned
their labor and flew to their families, exclaiming that the end of the world
had arrived. On the next day these people were interrogated on the subject,
and their accounts varied according to the different impressions which had
been produced on their imaginations. Some declared that they saw streams
of blue fire ; others that they beheld bars of red iron crossing each other in
all directions ; others that they beheld an immense quantity of flying rockets.
All agreed that the phenomena were diffused over every part of the firmament ;
that they commenced at eleven o'clock, and continued till four the next
morning.
THE. EARTH.
A difficult Subject of Investigation. — Form of the Earth. — How proved Globular. — Its Magnitude. —
Its annual Motion. — Elliptic Form of its Orbit. — Proofs of its annual Motion from the Theory of
Gravitation. — From the Motion of Light. — The Earth's diurnal Motion. — Inequalities of Day and
Night.-«Weight of the Earth. — Maskelyne's Experiment. — Cavendish's Experiment. — Their Ac-
cordance.— Density of the Earth. — The Season*. — Calorific Effect of the Snn's Rays. — Why the
longest is not the hottest Day. — Why the shortest Day is not the coldest. — The hottest Season takes
place when the Sun is farthest from the Earth. — Proofs of the diurnal Rotation. — Spheroidal Form
of the Earth proved by Theory and by Observation.
THE EARTH.
THE EARTH.
LOCKE somewhere observes, with his usual felicity of illustration, that the
" mind, like the eye, while it makes us see and perceive all other things, can
never turn its view with advantage upon itself." We encounter something
similar to this in our researches through the universe ; for of all the objects
which compose it, one of the most difficult with which to obtain a complete
and accurate knowledge is the planet which we inhabit. The cause of this
is our proximity to it, and intimate connexion with it. We are confined upon
its surface, from which we cannot separate ourselves. We cannot obtain a
bird's-eye view of it, nor at any one time behold more than an insignificant
portion of its surface. We have the same difficulty in obtaining an acquaint-
ance with it that a microscopic animalcule would have in acquiring a perfect
knowledge of the form and dimensions of ,a terrestrial globe twelve inches in
diameter, on the surface of which it creeps.
Still, by a variety of indirect methods supplied by the ingenuity of scientific
research, we have been enabled to ascertain its form, and dimensions, and
physical constitution, with a considerable degree of accuracy.
FORM OF THE EARTH.
The first impression produced upon the eye of an observer, who has not
carried his inquiries further, is, that the surface of the earth is a flat plane, in-
terrupted only by the inequalities of the land. A little careful observation,
however, upon the many phenomena which are easily accessible to every
observer, will correct this erroneous impression.
1. It is well known that if a voyage were made upon the earth, continually
preserving one and the same direction, or doing so as nearly as circumstances
will permit, we should at length arrive at the place Horn which we departed.
If the earth were an indefinite plane, this could not happen. It is evident,
then, that whatever be the exact form of the earth, it is a body which is on
448
THE EARTH.
every side limited, and one which niust therefore have such a surface that a
traveller or navigator can completely surround it in one continuous course.
Let us see, however, whether we may not obtain evidence more distinct as
to its form. If we stand on the deck of a ship at sea, and out of sight of land,
the view being bounded only by sea and sky, and look at the horizon when a
ship approaches, we shall at first see its topmast rising out of the water like a
pole. As it gradually comes nearer to us, more of the mast will become visi-
ble, and the sails will be seen — cut off, however, horizontally, by the line at
which the water and sky unite. Upon the nearer approach of the ship, the
hull will at length become visible. Now, since this takes place on all sides
around us, it will follow that when the ship is at a distance, there must be
something interposed between the eye and it which intercepts the view of it ;
but as the surface of the water is generally uniform, and not subject to sudden
and occasional inequalities like that of the land, we can only imagine its gen-
eral form to be convex, and that its convexity is interposed between the eye
and the object so as to intercept the view.
Since the same effects are observed from whatever direction the ship may
approach, it will follow that the same convexity must prevail on every side.
If we admit the earth to be globular, or nearly so, and the surface of the
water to partake of this figure, 1, the manner in which a ship becomes visible
on approaching the eye will be easily and simply explained.
Fig. i.
In the position c, in the annexed figure, the convexity of the globe being
between the ship and the eye, the view of it is intercepted ; but as the ship
approaches toward b, the masts first and then the sails and rigging rise above
the line of sight and come into view, and lastly the hull will be seen.
If, on the contrary, the surface extending from the eye to the ship were a
plane, the ship would be rendered invisible only by reason of its distance ;
whereas it is ascertained that a ship frequently is invisible at a distance at
which it must be seen but for the interposition of some other object ; this may
be tested, and in fact is frequently tested at sea by mounting to the masthead,
whence the seaman being enabled to overlook the convexity, sees vessels which
are invisible from the deck, athough, strictly speaking, he is nearrr to those
vessels on the deck than at the masthead.
When the mariner, after completing a long voyage, discovers by his obser-
vations and reckonings that he is approaching the desired coast, be ascends to
the topmast and looks out for the appearance of mountains or other elevated
land, and he invariably sees them from that point long before they are visible
from the deck. He afterward sees them from the deck long before the gen-
eral level of the country will be observed by him. All these are natural and
necessary consequences of the convexity of the surface of the ocean. The
same effects would be seen ia any part of a continent which is sufficiently free
from mountains and otler inequalities.
But we have a still more conclusive and convincing proof of the general
form of the earth even than those which have been explained. "When the
THE EARTH.
moon passes directly behind the earth, so that the shadotv winch th« -earth pro*
jects behind it in the directkm opposite to the sun shall full upon the moon,
we invariably find that -shadow- to be, not as is commonly said, circular, but
such exactly as one globe would project upon the surface of another globe.
Now, as this takes place always* ift whatever position the earth may be, arnl
while the earth is revolving rapidly with its diurnal motion upon its axis, it.
follows that the earth must either be an exact globe or so little different from
a globe Unit its deviation from that figure is undiscoverable in its shadow.
We may, then, consider it demonstrated that the earth may be practically
regarded u4 globular in its form. We shall hereafter see that it sligbtly 'de-
parts from the spherical figure, but our present purpose will be best hnswerei
by regarding it as a globe.
- The. .objection will doubtless occur to many minds that the inequality which
.exists on the surface of that portion of the globe that is covered by land, espe-
cially the loftier ridges of mountains, such as the Andes, the Alps, the Hima-
laya, and others, are incompatible witli the idea of a globular figure. If the
term globular figure were used in the strictest geometrical sense, this objection
doubtless, would have great force. But Jet us see the real extent of this pre-
sumed deviation from the globular form. The highest mountain on the surfaceof
the globe does not exceed five miles above the general level of the sea. The
entire diameter of the globe, as we shall presently see, is eight thousand miles.
The proportion, then, which the highest summit of the loftiest mountains bears
to the entire, diameter of the gloi>o will be that of fife to eight thousand, or one
to sixteen hundred. If we take an ordinary terrestrial globe of sixteen inches
in diameter, each, inch upon the globe will correspond to five hundred miles
upon the earth, and the sixteen hundredth part of its diameter, or the hundredth
part of an inch, will correspond to five miles. If, then, we take a narrow atrip
of paper, so thin that it would take one hundred leaves to make an inch in
thickness, and paste such a strip on the surface of the globe, the thickness of
the strip would represent upon the sixteen-inch globe the height of the loftiest
mountain on the earth. We are then to consider that the highest mountain-
ranges on the earth deprive it of its globular figure only in the same degree
and to the same extent as a sixteen-inch globe would be deprived of its globu-
lar figure by a strip of paper pasted upon it the hundredth part of an inch
thick.
It is supposed that the greatest depth of the ocean which covers any portion
of the globe does not exceed the greatest height of the mountains upon the
land. If this be true, the ocean upon the earth might be represented by a film
of liquid laid with a camel's-hair pencil upon the surface of a sixteen-inch
globe.
It is apparent, therefore, that depths and heights which appear to the com-
mon observer to be stupendous, are nothing when considered with reference
to the magnitude of the earth; and that, so far as they are concerned, we inay
practically regard the earth as a true globe.
.(i
THE MAGNITUDE OF THE EARTH.
Having ascertained satisfactorily the figure of the earth, our next inqtriry
must be us to its magnitude ; and since it is a globe, all that vre are required to
know is the length of its diameter.
If a line were described surrounding the globe, so as to form a circle upon
it, the centre of which should be at the centre of the globe, such a" circle is
called a gr£at circl-e of the earth. Now if we know the length of the circum-
ference of such a circle, we could easily calculate the length of its diameter,
39
450 THE EARTH.
for the proportion of the circumference to the diameter is exactly known. But
we could calculate the circumference if we knew the length of one degree
upon it, since we know that the circumference consists of three hundred and
sixty degrees ; we should therefore only have to multiply the length of one
degree by three hundred and sixty to obtain the circumference, and should
thence calculate the diameter.
On another occasion, in our discourse upon latitudes and longitudes, it was
shown how the latitude of a place can be ascertained. Now, let us suppose
two places selected which are upon the same meridian of the earth, and there-
fore have the same longitude, and which are not very far removed from each
other. Let them, moreover, be selected so that the distance between them can
be easily and accurately measured. Now let the latitude of these two places be
exactly determined, and let us suppose that the difference between these two
latitudes is found to be one degree and a half; and suppose als-0 that on meas-
uring the distance between them, that distance is found to be one hund-red and
four miles and thirty-five hundredths. We should thence infer that such must
be the length of one degree and a half of the earth's surface, and that conse-
quently the length of one degree would be two thirds of this, or sixty-nine and
a half miles. Having thus found the length of a degree, AVC should have to
multiply it by three hundred and sixty, by which we should obtain the circum-
ference of the earth. This would give twenty-five thousand and twenty miles,
and we should then find by the usual mode of calculation the diameter of the
earth, which would prove to be a little under eight thousand miles.
We have made these calculations chiefly with a view of rendering the prin-
ciples of the investigation intelligible. The more exact dimensions of the
earth will be explained hereafter.
We conclude, then, that the earth is a globe eight thousand miles in di-
ameter.
ANNUAL MOTION OF THE EARTH.
We have on other occasions shown that the distance of the earth from the
sun may be expressed in round numbers by one hundred millions of miles. It
is more exactly ninety-five millions of miles.
We have also considered in general the path of the earth in its annual course
round the sun to be a circle, in the centre of which the centre of the sun is
placed. This is nearly but not exactly true. That the path of the earth is
not a circle with the sun in its centre, has been ascertained by the following
observations.
In astronomical telescopes there are placed by a particular arrangemer.t, «
within the eye-pieces, certain A'ery fine threads or wires, which are extended
parallel to each other across the field of view. These wires are so constructed {
that, by a simple mechanical contrivance, they may be moved toward each other,
preserving, however, their parallelism. The mechanism which so moves
them is made to measure exactly the distance between them.
When such a telescope is presented to the sun or moon, the wires may al-
Avays be so adjusted, by turning a screw, that one of them shall touch the upper
and the other the lower limb of the disk, as represented in the annexed dia-
gram, fig. 2, where S represents the disk of the sun, and A B and C D the
wires.
Now let us suppose that a telescope is pointed to the sun, and the Avires so
adjusted that they shall exactly touch the upper and lower limbs. Let the ob-
server then watch from day to day the appearance of the sun and the position )
of the wires : he will find that, after a certain time, the wires will no longer (
.•w>
Fig. 2.
-£X.
touch the sun, but will perhaps fall a little within it, as represented in the an-
nexed figure, 3.
Fig. 3.
And after a further lapse of time, he will find, on the other hand, that they
fall a little without it, as in the following figure, 4.
Fig. 4.
Now, as the wires throughout such a series of observations are maintained s
always in the same position, it follows that the disk of the sun must appear ?
smaller at one time, and larger at another — that, in fact, the apparent magni- s
tude of the sun must be variable. It is true that this variation is confined within )
very small limits, but still it is distinctly perceptible. What, then, it may be
asked, must be its cause ? Is it possible to imagine that the sun really under-
goes a change in its size ? This idea would, under any circumstances, be ab-
surd ; but when we have ascertained, as we may do, that the change of apparent
magnitude of the sun is regular and periodical — that for one half of the year
it continually diminishes until it attains a minimum, and then for the next .'lalf
year it increases until it attains a maximum — such a supposition as that of a
real periodical change in the globe of the sun, becomes altogether incredible.
If, then, an actual change in the magnitude of the sun be impossible, there
is but one other conceivable cause for the change in its apparent magnitude —
which is, a corresponding change in the earth's distance from it. If the earth
at one time be more remote than at another, the sun will appear proportionally
smaller. This is an easy and obvious explanation of the changes of appear-
452
THE EARTH.
ance that are observed, and it has been demonstrated accordingly to be the
true one.
On examining the change of the apparent diameter of the sun, it is found
that it is least on the 1st of July, and greatest on the 31st of December ; that
from December to July, it regularly decreases ; and from July to December, it
regularly increases. By observing the rate of its variation through these inter-
vals, it will be found that the path of the earth around the sun is an ellipse,
having the sun in one of the fuci.
In the annexed figure, 5, if S represent the place of the sun, A will represent
that of the earth when at that place called perihelion, or that point where it is
nearest the sun ; and B its position at aphelion, or the point where it is most
distant from the sun. The elliptic path of the earth is represented by the figure
A D B O ; C being its centre, and S its focus.
Fig. 5.
It is proper to observe here that the earth's orbit departs infinitely less from the
circular shape than the oval exhibited in the annexed diagram. In fact, the real
figure of the orbit of the earth is so slightly oval, and so little different from a
circle, that if it were delineated on paper in its true proportions, the eye conld
not discover its difference from a circle ; actual instrumental measure alone
could detect it. If the greatest distance of the earth from the sun were ex-
pressed by 1,000, its least distance would be expressed by 983.
It i& worthy of observation that the earth is most remote from the sun at
midsummer, and nearest to it at midwinter.
It was not until the date of the revival of letters that the annual motion of
^ the earth was admitted. The apparent stability of our globe was, until that
epoch, generally maintained ; and even now, when so universal is the assent
.jriVen to this fundamental principle of astronomy, it may still perhaps be useful
briefly to state the leading arguments by which it is established.
When the sun is observed in the firmament, it appears to move among the
siurs from west to east, following a course in the heavens which has been called
the KC.UPTIC ; and at the end of a year its centre returns, after a complete cir-
cuit of the heavens, to the point from which it set out. This is an effect which
uo'ild lie produced by a reai motion of the sun round the earth in a year. Bv
THE EARTH. 453
such a motion, being placed in the centre and at rest, we should see the sun
( progressively moving round us ; we should project his disk among the stars,
5 and the apparent motion would be to us what it is. But it is most necessary
to reflect that the very same effect would be produced without a single change
of circumstance, if, instead of the earth being at rest and the sun moving round
it, the sun were at rest, and the earth were carried annually round it. Such a
motion of the earth would cause the sun to be successively seen at all points
of the ecliptic at which it is seen throughout the year ; and, in short, would
give to the sun exactly the same apparent motion which it appears to us to
have. It is therefore evident that the annual motion of the sun will be exr
plained with equal clearness, and would be equally produced or caused, either
by its own motion round the earth, or by the annual motion of the earth round
it, There is nothing in the appearance of the sun itself which would give a
preference or confer a greater probability on either of these suppositions rather
than the other. If we are to choose between them, we must therefore seek
the grounds of choice in some other circumstances.
But the long-continued and deeply-rooted opinion that the sun and not the
earth moves, must have had some natural and intelligible grounds. These
grounds undoubtedly arose from impressions that if the earth moved, we should
in some way or other be sensible of its motion ; more especially if that motion
had the enormous velocity which must be imputed to the earth if it be granted
that it moves round the sun at all.
But, on the other hand, it must be considered that we are conscious of mo-
tion through the senses only by observing the relative change of position of some
external sensible objects. We see the mutual distance and relative position
of two or more visible objects change, and we infer immediately that some one
or other of them must have moved. We can be rendered sensible of the mo-
tion of the room we occupy, or of the ground upon which we stand, only by
some derangement of the position of these relative to our own body. But
li we could conceive all the objects that surround us moving with perfect uni-
formity in a fixed direction, and that our own bodies should participate in the
motion, we should thea have no evidence by which we could ascertain the ex-
istence of that motion at all. This will be clear to every one by considering
the effect produced when we are in the cabin of a boat which is drawn uni-
formly on smooth water. If we cannot look at the banks of the river or canal,
we then shall be entirely unconscious that the boat is moving; but if we
are enabled to look out from a window from which we can see the banks, the
first impression will be that the banks are moving in the contrary direction to
the boat, and it is only by reason and reflection that this impression will be
corrected. If we are in the cabin of a steamboat from which we cannot look
abroad, the only motion of which we are conscious is the tremulous motion
produced by the working of the machinery, and we are only conscious of this
because it changes in a slight degree, and momentarily, the relative position
of the frame of the boat and our own bodies. But we are even then uncon- /
scious of the progressive motion of the boat. :* «i
It will, then, be easily conceived that the motion of the globe of the earth
through space being perfectly smooth and uniform, we can have no sensible
means of knowing it, except the same which -we possess in the case of a boat
moving smoothly along a river : that is, by looking abroad at some external
objects which do not participate in the motion imputed to the earth. Now,
when we do look abroad at such objects, we find that they appear to more —
exactly as stationary objects would appear to move, seen from a moveable sta-
tion like the earth. It is plain, then, even if it be true that, the earth really
has the annual motion round the sun which is contended for, that we cannot
154
THE EARTH.
expect to be conscious of this motion from anything which can be observed on
our own bodies or those which surround us on the surface of the earth : we
must look for it elsewhere.
But it will be contended that the apparent motion of the sun, even upon the
argument just stated, may equally be explained by the motion of the earth
round the sun, or the motion of the sun round the earth ; and that therefore this
appearance can still prove nothing positively on this question. We have, how-
ever, other proofs, of a very decisive character.
Newton showed that it was a general law of nature, and part, in fact, of the
principle of gravitation, that any two globes placed at a distance from each
other, if they are in the first instance quiescent, and free, must move with an
accelerated motion to their common centre of gravity, where they will meet
and coalesce ; but if they be projected in a direction not passing through this
centre of gravity, they will both of them revolve in orbits around that point
periodically. And in fact the same will be the case with any number of
globes whatsoever, and consequently would be applicable to the solar system
itself.
Now, the centre of gravity of the solar system, owing to the immense pre-
dominance of the mass of the sun over all the rest of the bodies composing it
put together, is situated within the sun, and near its centre. All the bodies
of the system, and the earth among them, must therefore, according to this law,
revolve periodically round that point.
But as the principle of gravitation itself may by some be considered as based
upon some previous admission of the motion of the planets, it may be desirable
to obtain a still more direct and positive manifestation of the annual motion of
the earth. Fortunately, the discovery which has been developed by the labors
of astronomical observers have put us in possession of a decisive test, which
has been considered as setting at rest for ever the question of the earth's an-
nual motion. If the earth were moved round the sun — as it certainly must be
if the sun is not moved round it — an effect would be produced upon the apparent
position of the fixed stars, owing to the combination of the motion of light with
the motion of the globe. Light is propagated from the stars in straight lines
with a velocity of about two hundred thousand miles per second. The earth,
if it moves at all, moves with a velocity of about twenty miles per second ;
and with this velocity, the eye of the observer upon the earth strikes the light
in the direction of the earth s motion, while the light itself comes in another
direction. The direction in which the observer will see the star will be de-
termined by the combined effect of the velocity of light and the velocity of the
earth, inasmuch as the impact of the light upon the eye will be the result of
these two motions ; thus, if the earth moved with a velocity equal to that of
light, the star would be seen forty-five degrees in advance of its real position.
If the earth moved with a less velocity, it would be seen less in advance of
its true position in proportion to the relative velocity of the earth and light.
Now, the velocity of the earth being incomparably smaller than that of light,
the star ought to be seen in advance of its true position to an extent which is
proportionate to this small ratio, and the deviation of the star or planet's true
position should also be in the direction of the earth's motion. This effecl,
moreover, should be found to be produced upon all stars and planets visible in
the firmament ; modified, however, in a certain complicated manner, according
to their position with respect to the orbit of the earth.
The observations of Bradley and subsequent astronomers detected these
effects ; and as they are everywhere produced upon the countless myriads of
objects that glitter upon the firmament, and everywhere produced in the manner
and degree exactly in which they ought to be produced by the earth's an-
niral motion, an unanswerable demonstration is obtained of the reality of that
motion.
We have seen that the observation of the sun establishes demonstratively
his alternative — either that the earth revolves round the sun annually, or that
he sun revolves round the earth annually. There is no other motion which
would be consistent with the phenomena. Now, the effect on the stars called
he aberration of light, just explained, proves that of the sides of this alterna-
ive, that which must be adopted is the motion of the earth.
There is an instinct of the human mind which leads it to anticipate discov-
eries. The grounds on which the annual motion of the earth and the stationa-
ry position of the sun are demonstrated, are modern. The theory of gravita-
ion dates only from the era illustrated by Newton. The discovery of the ab-
erration of light is still more recent ; and yet the first suggestion of the annual
motion of the earth, and the stationary position of the sun, dates as far back as
he era of Pythagoras. It is true that this hypothesis did not obtain general
assent until it was urged by the sagacity of Copernicus, and reinforced by the
eloquence and talents of Galileo and Kepler. But still it affords an example
of one of those wonderful anticipations of human intellect which leads us irre-
sistibly back to the impression that the mind is itself an emanation of the Divine
spirit which was breathed into our nostrils when He who created us gave us
he breath of life, and made us a living soul.
THE EARTH'S DIURNAL MOTION.
WThile the earth revolves annually round the sun, it has a motion of rotation
at the same time upon a certain diameter as an axis which is inclined from the
perpendicular to its orbit at an angle of 23°, 28'. During the annual motion
of the earth this diameter keeps continually parallel to the same direction, and
the earth completes its revolution upon it in twenty-three hours and fifty-six
minutes. In consequence of the combination of this motion of rotation of the
earth upon its axis with its annual motion round the sun, we are supplied with
the alternations of day and night, and the succession of seasons.
When the globe of the earth is in such a position that its north pole leans
toward the sun, the greater portion of its northern hemisphere is enlightened,
and the greater portion of the southern hemisphere is dark. This position is
represented in the annexed figure, 6, where C is the north pole, and D the
fc
&
south pole. As the earth revolves upon its axis, the parallels of the equator
are unequally divided by the circles of light and darkness : the greater segment
of each of them being illuminated, and the lesser segment dark. The days
are therefore longer than the nights in the northern hemisphere. The reverse
is the case with the southern hemisphere, for there the greater segments of
the parallels are dark, and the lesser segments enlightened ; the days are there-
fore shorter than the nights. Upon the equator, however, at B, the circle of
the earth, is equally divided, and the days and nights are equal. When the
south pole leans toward the sun, which it does exactly at the opposite point of
the earth's annual orbit, circumstances are reversed : then the days are longer
than the nights in the southern hemisphere, and the nights are longer than
the days in the northern hemisphere. At the intermediate point of the earth's
annual path, figure 7, when the axis assumes a position perpendicular to the
Fig. 7.
•
-
•
direction of the sun, then the circle of light and darkness passes through the
poles ; all parallels in every part of the earth are equally divided, and there is
consequently equal day and night all over the globe.
In the annexed perspective diagram, fig. 8, these four positions of the earth
are exhibited in such a manner as to be clearly intelligible.
On the day of the 21st of June, the north pole is turned in the direction of
the sun ; on the 21st of December, the south pole is turned in that, direction.
On the days of the equinoxes, the axis of the earth is at right angles to the
direction of the sun, and it is equal day and night everywhere on the earth.
The annual variation of the position of the sun with reference to the equa-
tor, or the changes of its declination, are explained by these motions. The
summer solstice — the time when the sun's distance from the equator is the
greatest — takes place when the north pole leans toward the sun ; and the win-
ter solstice — or the time when the sun's distance south of the equator is great-
est— takes place when the south pole leans toward the sun.
In virtue of these motions, it follows that the sun is twice a year vertical at
all places between the tropics j.arid at the tropics themselves it is vertical once
a year. In all higher latitudes the point at which the sun passes the meridian
daily alternately approaches to and recedes from the zenith. From the 21st
of December until the 2 1st of June, the point continually approaches the zenith.
It comes nearest to the zenith on the 21st of June ; and from that day until the
21st of December, it continually recedes from the zenith, and attains its lowest
position on the latter day. The difference, therefore, between the meridional
altitudes of the sun on the days of the summer and winter solstices at all places
will be twice twenty-three degrees and twenty-eight minutes, or forty-six de-
grees and fifty-six minutes. In all places beyond the tropics in the northern
hemisphere, therefore, the sun rises at noon on the 21st of June, forty-six de-
grees and fifty-six minutes higher than it rises on the 21st of December.
These are the limits of meridional altitude which determine the influence of
the sun in different places.
THE EARTH.
457
Fig. 8.
^i^SSfek
K ft
jMBBHHmiMMK
•
•
•
""
•
WEIGHT OF THE EARTH.
•
It was at a recent epoch in the progress of knowledge that the problem to
ascertain the weight of the globe of the earth, or the actual quantity of matter
it contains relative to some known standard, was solved.
The researches of Newton had established the general fact that the weights
of bodies were the exponents of their masses or quantities of matter, and that
the weights themselves were nothing more than the attractions which the
bodies in question suffered from other bodies near them.
Toward the end of the last century, two philosophers of great eminence in
England— the celebrated Cavendish and Dr. Maskelyne— achieved the solu-
tion of this problem by different methods ; and the accordance of the results
which they obtained is the best test of their accuracy and truth.
The method of Dr. Maskelyne consisted in comparing the attraction which
458
THE EARTH.
the entire globe of the earth would exert in a body near it. with that which
a mass of matter of known weight, such as a mountain, would exert upon the
same body. The mode of executing that memorable experiment was as
follows : Let A B, fig. 9, represent a small portion of the earth's surface,
which may be regarded as a plane ; lt:t C 1) represent a mountain, and let 0
be supposed to be its centre of gravity. The entire attraction of the mass of
the mountain will then be exerted as if it were concentrated on the point 0.
The direction of the earth's attraction will be perpendicular to the plane A B.
Now, let L be a weight suspended from any point ; M L forming what is called
a plumb-line. If the weight L were solicited by no force except the earth's
attraction, the string by which it is suspended would take a position at right
angles to the plane A B ; but as this plumb-line is suspended near the mount-
ain C D, it will be attracted by the gravitation of the mass of the mountain,
which will be exerted in the direction M O toward the centre of gravity of the
mountain. If we could imagine the globe of the earth on which the mountain
rests removed, and the mountain alone to remain near the plumb-line, then the
weight L would be drawn in the direction M 0, and the string M L suspend-
ing it would take that direction ; for in that case, the only force by which L
would be attracted would be the gravitation of the mountain, which takes place
in the direction M O. If, on the other hand, the mountain were removed, and
the earth alone left to affect the plumb-line, it would take the usual direction,
M L, perpendicular to A B ; but in the case actually supposed, the weight L is
solicited at the same time by both attractions — by the attraction of the globe
of the earth drawing it perpendicularly to A B, and by the attraction of the
mountain drawing it in the direction M 0. By the common principles of me-
chanics, the weight L will in this case take a direction M L', intermediate
between M L and M O, leaning toward the mountain but very slightly, in-
asmuch as the attraction of the mountain is incomparably less than that of the
earth.
Now, if we could exactly ascertain the degree in which the plumb-line is
deflected from its true vertical position by the attraction of the mountain, that
deviation or deflection will enable us immediately to estimate the proportion
which the attraction of the mountain bears to the whole attraction of the earth,
and that proportion would be the same as that which the weight of the moun-
tain or the mass of matter contained in it bears to the mass of matter contained
in the globe of the earth. But where the deviation of the plumb-line is so
small, and \vh£re any ordinary test of its deviation would be affected by the
same cause as the plumb-line itself, there would be a difficulty in determin-
ing it.
If the plumb-line were undisturbed by the mountain, its direction ought to
point to a star in the zenith of the place of the observer ; but being dis-
turbed by the attraction of the mountain, it will point to a star at one side of
the zenith — say, for example, to the east of it.
THE EARTH.
4-59
Let us suppose now that another plumb-line is suspended similarly on the
opposite side of the mountain, to m I : it is evident that the attraction of the
mountain will draw the plumb-line in this case in a direction opposite to that
in which it draws the former. Both plummets will be drawn toward the
mountain ; and if the string suspending one be made to point a little to the
eastward of the zenith, the string suspending the other will be made to point a
little to the westward of it.
By due attention to this circumstance, we shall easily find the real deviation
of the, plumb-line from the zenith. Let the points in the heavens to which the
two plumb-lines are respectively directed be accurately observed : one of these
points will be as much to the eastward as the other will be westward of the
true zenith. If we take half the space between them, that will be the devia-
tion of the direction of the plumb-line from the zenith, or, in other words, it
will be the actual deviation of the plumb-line from the true vertical direction.
We have then the amount of the deflection, and can therefore calculate the
proportion which the mass of the earth bears to the mass of the mountain. If,
then, we knew the mass of the mountain, we should necessarily know the mass
of the earth.
The mountain on which Dr. Maskelyne tried this celebrated experiment
was Schehallien, in Wales. The geological structure of this mountain was
known, and the magnitude and nature of its stratification had been ascertained.
The weight, therefore, of the materials that composed it was easily calculated,
and thus the weight of the mountain obtained.
By computing thence, by means of the experiments just described, the
weight of the earth, it was found to be about five times the weight of its own
bulk of water.
The method adopted by Cavendish for solving this problem depended on a
different mechanical principle. It is well known that the vibrations of the
common pendulum, used as a measure of time in clocks, are produced by the
attraction of the globe of the earth on the matter composing the ball or disk.
If that attraction were greater, its vibration would be more rapid ; if it were
less, it would be slower ; in short, the rate of vibration of the pendulum is the
exponent of the energy of force by which it is moved.
If we suppose, then, two globes, containing different quantities of attractive
matter, and near these globes two pendulums to be placed, each pendulum
being kept in a state of vibration by their attraction : by noting the rates
of vibration of these two pendulums, we should be enabled to compare the
relative quantities of matter in the two globes. In making this comparison,
however, there are several circumstances which should be attended to, which
need not be particularly adverted to here. Cavendish adopted this principle
as the basis of his method for determining the weight of the earth. He took
a large globe of metal, of known weight, and suspended near it in a horizontal
position a fine vertical needle, the point of suspension corresponding with its
centre of gravity. The effect of the earth's attraction was thus neutralized. Its
susceptibility of vibration in a horizontal plane depended upon the torsion of
the filament by which it was suspended. The ball of this pendulum was then
directed to the centre of the metallic globe, and the pendulum was put in vi-
bration near it, subject to the same mechanical condition as those by which a
common pendulum is affected near the surface of the earth. By observing the
rate of vibration of this horizontal pendulum, and comparing it with the rate of
vibration of the ordinary pendulum subject to the earth's attraction, Cavendish
was enabled to obtain the numerical proportion which the earth's attraction
bore to the attraction of the metallic globe which he used in his experiments.
Having computed thence the weight of the earth, he arrived at * conclusion
THE EARTH.
nearly the same as that to which Dr. Maskelyne had previously arrived by a
different method. It was thus finally established that the weight of the globe
of the earth is about five an<? a half times greater than the weight of its own
bulk of water.
It-follows from this that the mean density of the earth is five and a half times
greater than the density of water. We are, however, carefully to remember
that this conclusion affects the mean density of the earth only. Now, as the
,' density immediately at its surface is not nearly so great as this, it follows that
'I the density of those parts nearer to its centre must be much greater.
THE SEASONS
'
The succession of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, and the variations
of temperature of the seasons — so far as these variations depend on the posi-
tion of the sun — will now require to be explained.
The influence of the sun in heating a portion of the earth's surface, will de-
pend partly on its altitude above the horizon. The greater that altitude is, the
more perpendicular the rays will fall, and the greater will be their calorific
effect
To explain this, let us suppose ABC and D, fig. 10, to represent a beam of
Fig. 10.
F D -•!•
E
-
B
the solar light ; let C D represent a portion of the earth's surface, upon which
the beam would fall perpendicularly ; and let C E represent that portion on ivhich
it would fall obliquely ; the same number of rays will strike the surfaces C D
and G E ; but the surface C E being obviously greater than C D, the rays will
necessarily fall more densely on the latter: and as the heating power must be
in proportion to the density of the rays, it follows that C D will be heated more
than C E in just the same proportion as C E is greater than C D. But if we
would compare two surfaces on neither of which the sun's rays fall perpendic-
ularly, let us take C E and C F. They fall on C E with more obliquity than
on C F ; but C E is evidently greater than C F, and therefore the rays being
diffused over a larger surface, are less dense, and therefore less effective in
heating.
The calorific effect, of the sun's rays on a surface more oblique to their di-
rection than another, will then be proportionably less.
If the sun be in the zenith, its rays will strike the surface perpendicularly,
and the heating effect will therefore be greater than when the sun is in any
other position.
The greater the altitude to which the sun rises, the less obliquely will be
the direction in which its rays will strike the surface at noon, and the more
effective will be their heating power. So far, then, as the heating power de-
pends on the altitude of the sun, it will be increased with every increase of its \
meridian altitude.
Hence it is that the heat of summer increases as we approach the equator.
The lower the latitude is, the greater will be the height to which the sun will
rise. The maridian altitude of the sun at the summer solstice being every-
where forty-six degrees and fifty-six minutes more than at the winter solstice,
the heating effect will be proportionately greater.
But this is not the only cause which produces the greatly superior heat of
summer as compared with winter, especially in the higher latitudes. The
heating effect of the sun depends not alone on its altitude at midday; it also
depends on the length of time which it is above the horizon and belo\v it.
While the sun is above the horizon, it is continually imparting heat to the air
and to the surface of the earth ; and while it is below the horizon, the heat is
continually being dissipated. The longer, therefore — other things being the
same — the sun is above the horizon, and the shorter time it is below it, the
greater will be the amount of heat imparted to the earth every twenty-four
hours. Let us suppose that between sunrise and sunset, the sun, by its cal-
orific effect, imparts a certain amount of heat to the atmosphere and the sur-
face of the earth, and that from sunset to sunrise a certain amount of this heat j
is lost: the result of the action of the sun will be found by deducting the latter
from the former.
Thus, then, it appears that the influence of the sun upon the seasons de-
pends as much upon the length of the days and nights as upon its altitude ; but
it so happens that one of these circumstances depends upon the other. The
greater the sun's meridional altitude is, the longer will be the days, and the
shorter the nights ; and the less it is, the longer will be the nights, and the
shorter the days. Thus both circumstances always conspire in producing
the increased temperature of summer, and the diminished temperature of
winter.
A difficulty is sometimes felt when the operation of these causes is consid-
ered, in understanding how it happens that, notwithstanding what has been
stated, the 21st of June — when the sun rises the highest, when the days are
longest and the nights shortest — is not the hottest day, but that on the contrary,
the dog-days, as they are called, which comprise the hottest weather of the year,
occur in. August ; and in the same manner, the 2lst of December-^— when the
height to which the sun rises is least, the days shortest, and the nights longest
— is not usually the coldest day, but that, on the other hand, the most inclem
ent weather occurs at a later period.
To explain this, so far as it depends on the position of the sun and the
length of the days and nights, we are to consider the folio wing circum-
stances : —
As midsummer approaches, the gradual increase of the temperature of the
weather has been explained thus : The days being considerably longer than
the nights, the quantity of heat imparted by the sun during the day is greater
than the quantity lost during the night ; and the entire result during the twenty
four hours gives an increase of heat. As this augmentation takes place alter
each successive day and night, the general temperature continues to increase.
On the 21st of June, when the day is longest, and the night is shortest, and the
sun rises highest, this augmentation reaches its maximum ; but the temperature
of the weather does not therefore cease to increase. After the 21st of June,
there continues to be still a daily augmentation of heat, for the sun still con-
tinues to impart more heat during the day than is lost during the night. The
temperature of the weather will therefore only cease to increase when, by th»>
diminished length of the day, the increased length of thu night, and the dimin-
ished meridional altitude of the sun, the heat imparted during the day is just
balanced by the heat lost during the night. There will be, then, no further
462
THE EARTH.
increase of temperature, and the heat of the weather will have attained its
maximum.
But it might occur to a superficial observer that this reasoning would lead
to the conclusion that the weather would continue to increase in its tempera-
ture until the length of the days would become equal to the length of the
nights, and such would be the case if the loss of heat per hour during the
night were equal to that gain of heat per hour during the day. But such is
not the case ; the loss is more rapid than the gain, and the consequence is that
the hottest dayvusually comes within the month of July, but always long before
the day of the autumnal equinox.
The same reasoning will explain why the coldest weather does not usually
occur on the 21st of December, when the day is shortest and the night longest,
and when the sun attains the lowest meridional altitude. The decrease of the
temperature of the weather depends upon the loss of heat during the night
being greater than the gain during the day ; and until, by the increased length
of the day and the diminished length of the night, these effects are balanced,
the coldest weather will not be attained.
These observations must be understood as applying only so far as the tem-
perature of the weather is affected by the sun, and by the length of the days
and nights. There are a variety of other local and geographical causes which
interfere with these effects, and vary them at different times and places.
On referring to the annual motion of the earth round the sun, it appears that
the position of the sun within the elliptic orbit of the earth is such that the
earth is nearest to the sun about the 1st of January, and most distant from it
about the 1st of July. As the calorific power of the sun's rays increases as
the distance from the earth diminishes, in even a higher proportion than the
change of distances, it might be expected that the effect of the sun in heating
the earth on the 1st of January would be considerably greater than on the 1st
of July. If this were admitted, it would follow that the annual motion of the
earth in its elliptic orbit would have a tendency to diminish the cold of the
winter in the northern hemisphere, and mitigate the heat of summer, so as to a
certain extent to equalize the seasons ; and on the contrary, in the southern
hemisphere, where the 1st of January is in the middle of summer and the 1st
of July the middle of winter, its effects would be to aggravate the cold in winter
and the heat in summer. The investigations, however, which have been made
in the physics of heat, have shown that that principle is governed by laws
which counteract such effects. Like the operation of all other physical agen-
cies, the sun's calorific power requires a definite time to produce a given effect,
and the heat received by the earth at any part of its orbit will depend con-
jointly on its distance from the sun and the length of time it takes to traverse
that portion of its orbit. In fact, it has been ascertained that the heating power
depends as much on the rate at which the sun changes its longitude as upon
the earth's distance from it. Now it happens that in consequence of the laws
of the planetary motions, discovered by Kepler, and explained by Newton,
when the earth is most remote from the sun, its velocity is least, and conse-
quently the hourly changes of longitude of the sun will be proportionally less.
Thus it appears that what the heating power loses by augmented distance, it
gains by diminished velocity ; and again, when the earth is nearest to the sun,
what it gains by diminished distance, it loses by increased speed. There is
thus a complete compensation produced in the heating effect of the sun by
the diminished velocity of the earth which accompanies its increased dis-
tance.
The place of aphelion, or the point where the earth is most distant from the
sun, and the place of perihelion, or the point where it is nearest to the sun, are
THE EARTH.
463
ascertained by observing when and where the sun's diameter is least and
greatest.
The diurnal rotation of the earth on its axis is a fact which all the world
are now so habituated to admit, and are taught so early, that few even think of the
necessity of asking for any demonstration of it ; and yet for thousands of years
this fundamental fact of astronomy was not only not admitted, but any one who
would have had the temerity to have asserted it, would have been deemed a fit
candidate for an asylum for insane persons. Such is the wonderful force of
habit.
Let us, however, suppose ourselves ignorant of this fact, and that for the
first time we should be told that the place we dwell on and the ground on
which we walk is carried round the diameter passing through the poles of the
globe once in twenty-four hours ; that if we happen to be on or near the equa-
tor, we are thus whirled round at the rate of a thousand miles an hour, and that
at the latitude of forty to fifty degrees we should be transported at about half
that speed : it is surely conceivable that such an assertion heard for the first
time would excite very naturally astonishment and incredulity ; and although
habit has taught us to assent to it, reason must still suggest the question,
" What arguments have induced mankind to instil into the minds of the young
this principle as an indubitable fact ?"
We direct our view to the firmament, and we see all the objects upon it rise
in the east and set in the west, the sun among the number. The stars pre-
serve their relative positions ; and, in short, all objects which appear in the
firmament move as though the motions did not belong to them, but as if the
whole firmament was carried round the earth every twenty-four hours with
a common motion, carrying all the bodies which appear upon it with that
motion.
Now. there are two suppositions, either of which will with equal precision
explain this appearance ; and there is no other possible way, save these two,
by which it can be explained.
It may either be produced — as at the first view it appears to be — by the
whole universe turning with a common motion every twenty-four hours round
the globe of the earth, or by the globe of the earth itself turning on its axis
once every twenty-four hours. How long mankind embraced by preference
the former supposition, will be rendered apparent by the very etymology of the
term universe* itself. Yet, to our apprehension, informed as we are of the
magnitudes, distances, and general structure, not of the solar system only, but
of the stellar universe, how eminently absurd does not such a supposition ap-
pear ! It would compel us to admit, not only that the stupendous globe of the
sun, nearly a million and a half times greater than that of the earth, revolves
every twenty-four hours round the earth at a distance of one hundred millions
of miles, but also that the planets, including Jupiter, fourteen hundred times,
and Saturn, one thousand times greater than the earth, the one at four hundred
millions of miles and the other at nine hundred millions of miles from the earth,
have also this inconceivable motion. But this is not all : we should be forced
to admit not only that the entire solar system whirls round the earth once a
day, but we should have to impute the same diurnal rotation to the countless
myriads of stars placed in regions of the universe so distant that light takes
several hundred years to come from them to the earth, moving at the rate of
two hundred thousand miles per second ; these stars, moreover, being suns,
many of them more stupendous than our"Wn ! It will be readily admitted that
such suppositions are invested with a degree of improbability amounting to
* Universe, from UNUS, one ; and TERSUM, a THING TURNED : signifying to turn icilh one common
motion.
THE EARTH.
moral impossibility. It may, however, be asked how they could have been
entertained by the world for so long a succession of ages. The answer is, that
so long as the rotation, of the universe round the earth was admitted, mankind
was ignorant of its vast dimensions and of the comparative insignificance of (
the earth, with which every person of ordinary education is now more or less <
familiar. The discovery of this has been reserved for modern times, and con- (
sequently the absurdity of the supposition that the earth is at rest and the •
universe revolving daily round it was not apparent, as it now is.
The first demonstration which we have to offer of the motion of the earth
upon its axis, is what is called, in the language of schools, a disjunctive syllo-
gism.
1. Either the earth must tiirn diurnally on its axis, or the universe must *
turn diuraally round it.
2. But it is absurd to suppose that the whole universe should turn diurnally
round the earth.
Condus-ion. The earth must therefore turn diurnally on its axis.
Although this negative demonstration be sufficiently conclusive to satisfy
the understanding, it has always been considered desirable that we should
obtain some positive and direct evidence that the earth really has this diurnal
motion. Now, an experiment has been suggested and actually executed, by
which a mechanical effect produced by the diurnal motion is actually exhib-
ited. Let us suppose a lofty tower erected on the surface of the earth ; the
top of the tower would, of course, be more distant than its base from the centre
of the earth ; consequently it is evident that if the earth had a diurnal motion,
the top of the tower, in virtue of that motion, would describe a greater circle
than the bottom, and consequently would move from west to east with a greater
velocity. Let us suppose, then, a heavy body, such as a leaden bullet, held
on the top of the tower ; that body would participate in the velocity from west
to east which the top of the tower has by the earth's diurnal motion. If the
bullet were then disengaged and allowed to fall to the base of the tower, it
i would still retain the velocity which it had at the top of the tower, and in fact
| it would have a downward motion and an eastward motion at the same time.
. In virtue of the downward motion, it would fall to the ground at the base of
| the tower ; but in virtue of the eastward motion, it would fall as far to the east-
i ward as the top of the tower would have moved more than the bottom in the
\ time of its fall.
i Now it must be remembered that the motion of the base of the tower east-
\ ward by the diurnal motion of the earth is less than that of the top of the tower,
1 and consequently in the time the ball would take to fall from the top of the
| tower to the ground, the base of the tower would not be as far eastward as the
1 top would move ; and consequently the ball ought to be expected to fall east-
! ward of the foot of the tower at a distance equal to the difference between the
1 space through which the top and the base would have moved in the time of
the fall.
But if the tower and the earth on which it was built had not this diurnal
\ motion, but were at rest, then the ball ought to fall exactly at the foot of the
1 tower, or vertically under the point from which it was disengaged. Thus,
I then, we have a positive experiment, the result of which, if rightly executed
1 and accurately observed, must discover to us the fact of the earth's motion, if
1 such motion existed.
The experiment has been inaae ; ihe question has been asked ; nature has
I been submitted to cross-examination by science : and the secret has been
| extorted from her. The ball has fallen, not at the point vert^'illy un-
, er the place where it was disengaged, but eastward of that place to the ex-
THE EARTH.
460
tent and in the degree which it ought to do in virtue of the earth's diurnal
motion.
SPHEROIDAL FORM OF THE EARTH.
Although the earth be said to be a globe in the ordinary sense of the term,
and when extreme accuracy is not sought, yet, strictly speaking, it deviates
from the globular form. It has been ascertained that its figure is that which
in geometry is called an oblate spheroid. To acquire a notion of this form, we
have only to imagine an oval, such as A B C D, fig. 11, to revolve upon its
short axis B D. The figure it would produce by such a revolution would be
an oblate spheroid. It will differ from that of a sphere, inasmuch as the polar
diameter B D will be shorter than the equatorial diameter A C.
Fig. 11.
A familiar example of this figure is presented by a turnip, or in a less ex-
aggerated form by an orange.
The degree in which the earth has this peculiar form is, however, so very
slight, that if we made a model of it in a lathe, the eye could not discover that
it was not a true globe. Its oblateness could only be detected by accurate
measurement, or by causing it to revolve in different positions in the lathe, and
applying to it a tool fixed on a rest. In fact, the equatorial diameter of the
earth is to the polar diameter in the proportion of three hundred and one to
three hundred ; or, in other words, the diameter of the equator exceeds the
length of the polar axis by one part in three hundred. If, then, we take in
round numbers the polar diameter to be eight thousand miles, we shall find the
equatorial diameter to be eight thousand and twenty-six miles ; thus the parts
of tha earth's surface at the equator are twenty-six miles further from the centre
of the earth than the parts near the poles.
Such being understood to be the real figure of our globe, it will be asked
how it has been ascertained to be so. This question may be examined in
either of two ways — either as one of theory or one of fact. We may show,
that, from the known laws of mechanics, a globe like the earth revolving on an
axis in twenty-four hours, must become an oblate spheroid of the above dimen-
sions ; or we may show by measurements made on different parts of the earth's
surface, that it is, in fact, such a spheroid, whatever cause may have imparted
that figure to it.
It is well known that when any particle of matter revolves in a circle, it has
a tendency to recede from the centre of the circle, in virtue of what is called
centrifugal force. Now all points on the surface of the earth revolve very
rapidly in circles by reason of the diurnal motion of the globe. Any point, for
example, on the equator, revolves in a circumference of twenty-five thousand
miles in twenty-four hours. A point at a higher latitude revolves in the same
time in a less circle ; arid the circles of diurnal revolution become gradually
30
THE EARTH.
less and less as we approach the poles. Since, then, the centrifugal force
depends conjointly on the magnitude of the circle of revolution and the velocity
of the motion, it fellows that it will be less and less as we approach the poles,
and greater and greater as we approach the equator.
This force, however, exists at all latitudes, in a greater or less degree of
energy, and it is everywhere directed from the centre of the circle of di-
urnal rotation. Let N 0 S, figure 12, be the earth, and E Q the equator.
Fig. 12
Let P be a point on the surface of the earth anywhere between the equator
and poles. Since P is carried by the diurnal motion round the centre C, it
will have a tendency to fly from the centre in the direction P R. This ten-
dency will be partially counteracted by its gravity, which acts in the direc-
tion P O. But since P O is not directed immediately against P R, the result
will be that a particle of matter P thus acted on will move toward Q. To coun-
teract this tendency, there must be such a protuberance at Q as will place an
acclivity before P so steep as to prevent its ascent. Without such a protuber-
ance, all the fluid and loose matter on the globe would run toward the line.
It appears, then, that the effect of the earth's revolution would be to cause
all loose matter placed on the surface of the earth in either hemisphere to
move toward the equator ; and that if the earth were a perfect globe, there
would be no power to resist this tendency, and the effect would consequently
be actually produced.
Let us, then, suppose an exact globe, partially covered with land and water,
revolving on an axis in twenty-four hours ; the land or solid matter composing
it would be affected by the centrifugal force, like all other matter, but the
cohesive principle which gives it solidity would prevent a derangement of its
structure or change of position by such a cause, and the effect of the centrim-
! gal force would therefore be confined to the fluid matter, which, in obedience
J to the tendency above described, would flow from either hemisphere toward
i the regions about the equator, where it would be gradually heaped up so as to
' form a convex protuberance around the line between the tropics, and to give to
I the earth, so far as the fluid matter upon it is concerned, the form of an oblate
I spheroid. But this movement of the fluid would cease as soon as the equato-
) rial protuberance should attain a certain limit ; for we may regard such a pro-
? tubenmce as a sort of mountain piled round the equator, down the sides of which
( there would be a tendency to fall, in obedience to gravitation, as would be the
f case down any other declivity.
5 The particles of fluid placed upon the side of this protuberance would be
I affected by two opposite forces : that which would result from the rotation
THE EARTH. 467
would have a tendency to move them toward the line — that is, ascending the
acclivity — while their gravity, on the other hand, would have a tendency to
make them descend, or to move them from the acclivity. When the protu-
berance would attain the limit at which these two tendencies would become
equal, so that the descending force of gravity should be equal to the ascending
force proceeding from the rotation, the particles of the fluid would be at rest,
and would neither approach the line nor recede from it. It is within the prov-
ince of mathematical physics to calculate what the limit of this protuberance
would be which would produce this state of equilibrium, and the result of such
calculations has given us a form which corresponds nearly to that which the
earth is actually found to have.
But it may be objected that such reasoning would apply only to fluid matter
upon the earth, whereas the oblate form is known to belong to its solid as well
as its fluid surface.
This circumstance has been explained in two ways. 1. It is said that the
earth in its original formation was altogether fluid ; that in that fluid state it
received its diurnal rotation, and consequently took the form corresponding
with that rotation which we have just explained ; that, by cooling down, the
fluid matter partially hardened into a solid matter, leaving the liquid ocean cov-
ering about two thirds of the globe.
But if this original fluid state of the globe be denied or doubted, and if it be I
maintained that the globe received its revolution upon its axis when it was com-
posed as it is, partly of land and partly of water, it is nevertheless contended
that its present figure is explicable. If a true globe, diversified by land and by
water, received a diurnal rotation like that of ours, the water would in the first
instance flow toward the equator, and the geographical condition of the globe
would be, two polar continents, separated by an extensive equatorial ocean.
But after the lapse of ages, the ocean, washing continually upon the shores of
the continents, would cause the constant abrasion of their solid matter, which,
in the form of mud and sand, would mix with the liquid of the ocean, and would
obey all its tendencies. In fact, in process of time the land by decadence and
abrasion would obey the same principles which would affect a fluid ; and the
earth would at length, though after a long lapse of time, assume the form of
fluid equilibrium. The present distribution of land and water which characterizes
it has arisen from causes belonging more properly to geology than astronomy.
Such is the theoretical reasoning applicable to the form of the earth. We are
still, however, required by the rigorous principles of inductive philosophy to
ascertain, as a matter of fact, independent of all theory, the actual figure of the
globe. This has accordingly been done.
The section of an oblate spheroid made by a plane passing through the poles,
is au oval, the longer axis of which is in the equator. It will be evident upon
mere inspection that the curvature of the earth having such a form, would in-
crease as we approach the equator, and diminish as we approach the poles ;
that i% to say, a piece of a meridian taken near the equator would be part of a
less circle than a similar piece taken near the poles. This is equivalent to
stating that a degree of latitude near the equator would be shorter than a degree
of latitude near the poles.
Thus, then, the question of the figure of the earth is in fact resolved into the
measurement of a degree of latitude at different parts of the globe.
Such measurement has accordingly been executed with great precision, and
it has been found, as was anticipated, that the degrees of latitude become
shorter as we approach the equator, and longer as we approach the poles. A
comparison of their lengths has given the degree that characterizes the oblate-
ness of the earth.
468
THE EARTH.
But this is not the only test by which the figure of the earth has been ascer-
tained. If the earth were a true globe revolving on its axis in twenty-four hours,
the effect of its revolution would cause gravity to diminish on approaching the
equator, and increase on approaching the poles ; for the centrifugal force due
to the rotation increasing toward the equator would cause a greater diminution
of gravity there than toward the poles, where it lessens. Now, it is possible
to calculate the effect of such centrifugal force upon the earth if it had the
figure of a true globe. The effect of this diminution of gravity will be ascer-
tained with great exactness by observing the vibration of a pendulum in differ-
ent parts of the earth. It has been already explained that the motion of a
pendulum is produced by the gravity of the earth acting upon the ball of the
pendulous body, and that the greater the attraction of gravity, the more rapid
will b@ the vibration ; and vice versa. We carry, then, a pendulum alternately
toward the equator and toward the poles, and find invariably that its vibration
is slower when taken toward the equator, and more rapid when taken toward
the poles. But we find that this variation in its vibration does not correspond
to that which it ought to have if the earth were an exact globe. It is just the
variation which ought to take place if the earth were an oblate spheroid, of the
form already described.
Thus we have two independent tests of the figure of the earth, which give
accordant results.
LUNAR INFLUENCES.
The Red Moon. — Supposed Effect of the Moon on the Movement of Sap in Plants. — Prejudice re-
specting the time for felling Timber. — Extent of this Prejudice. — Its Prevalence among Trans-
atlantic People. — Prejudices respecting Effects on Grain. — On Wine. — On the Complexion. — On
Putrefaction. — On Wounds. — On the Size of Oysters and Shellfish. — On the Marrow of Animals. —
On the Weight of the Human Body. — On the Time of Births. — On the Hatching of Eggs. — On
Human Maladies. — On Insanity. — On Fevers. — On Epidemics. — Case of Vallisnieri. — Case of
Bacon. — On Cutaneous Diseases, Convulsions, Paralysis, Epilepsy, &c. — Observations of Dr.
Gibers.
LUNAR INFLUENCES.
471
LUNAR INFLUENCES.
ON a former occasion I examined the question respecting the supposed
influence of the moon upon the weather, and demonstrated that so far as ac-
tual observation has hitherto afforded grounds for reasoning, there is no dis-
coverable correspondence between the lunar changes and the vicissitudes of
rain and drought which can justify or in any degree countenance the popular
belief so generally entertained as to dependance of change of weather upon
the changes of the moon.
But meteorological phenomena are not the only effects imputed to our satel-
lite ; that body, like comets, is made responsible for a vast variety of interfe-
rences with organized nature. The circulation of the juices of vegetables, the
qualities of grain, the fate of the vintage, are all laid"to its account; and
timber must be felled, the harvest cut down and gathered in, and the juice of
the grape expressed, at times and under circumstances regulated by the aspects
of the moon, if excellence be hoped for in these products of the soil.
According to popular belief, our satellite also presides over human maladies ;
and the phenomena of the sick chamber are governed by the lunar phases ;
nay, the very marrow of our bones, and the weight of our bodies, suffer in-
crease or diminution by its influence. Nor is its imputed power confined to
physical or organic effects ; it notoriously governs mental derangement.
If these opinions respecting lunar influence were limited to particular coun-
tries, they would be less entitled to serious consideration ; but it is a curious
fact that many of them prevail and have prevailed in quarters of the earth so
distant and unconnected, that it is difficult to imagine the same error to have
proceeded from the same source. At all events, the extent of their prevalence
alone renders them a fit subject for serious investigation ; and I propose at
present to lay before you some of the principal facts and arguments bearing on
these points, for the collection of which we are mainly indebted to the industry
and research of M. Arago.
A large volume would be necessary to analyze all the popular opinions
472 LUNAR INFLUENCES.
which refer to the supposed lunar influences. We shall confine ourselves
therefore to the principal of them, and shortly examine how far they can be
reconciled with the established principles of astronomy and physics.
The Red Moon. — It is believed generally, especially in the neighborhood of
Paris, that in certain months of the year, the moon exerts a great influence up-
on the phenomena of vegetation. Gardeners give the name of Red Moon to
that moon which is full between the middle of April and the close of May. Ac-
cording to them the light of the moon at that season exercises an injurious in-
fluence upon the young shoots of plants. They say that when the sky is
clear the leaves and buds exposed to the lunar light redden and are killed as
if by frost, at a time when the thermometer exposed to the atmosphere stands
at many degrees above the freezing point. They say also that if a clouded
sky intercepts the moon's light it prevents these injurious consequences to the
plants, although the circumstances of temperature are the same in both cases.
Any person who is acquainted with the beautiful theory of dew, which we
owe to Dr. Wells, will find no difficulty in accounting for these effects errone-
ously imputed to the moon. If the heavens be clear and unclouded, all sub-
stances on the surface of the earth which are strong and powerful radiators of
heat, lose temperature by radiation, while the unclouded sky returns no heat to
them to restore what they have lost. Such bodies, therefore, under these cir-
cumstances, become colder than the surrounding air, and may even, if they be
liquid, be frozen. Ice. in fact, is produced, in warm climates, by similar
means. But if the firmament be enveloped in clouds, the clouds havii.g the
quality of radiating heat, will restore by their radiation, to substances upon the
surface of the earth, as much heat as such substances lose by radiation ; the
temperature, therefore, of such bodies will be maintained at a point equal to
that of the air surrounding them.
Now the leaves and flowers of plants are strong and powerful radiators of
heat ; when the sky is clear they therefore lose temperature and may be frozen ;
if, on the other hand, the sky be clouded, their temperature is maintained for
the reasons above stated.
The moon, therefore, has no connexion whatever with this effect ; and it is
certain that plants would suffer under the same circumstances whether the
moon is above or below the horizon. It equally is quite true that if the moon
be above the horizon, the plants cannot suffer unless it be visible ; because a
clear sky is indispensable as much to the production of the injury to the plants
as to the visibility of the moon ; and, on the other hand, the same clouds
which veil the moon and intercept her light give back to the plants that warmth
which prevents the injury here adverted to. The popular opinion is therefore
right as to the effect, but wrong as to the cause ; and its error will be at once
discovered by showing that on a clear night, when the moon is new, and,
therefore, not visible, the plants may nevertheless suffer.
Time for felling Timber. — There is an opinion generally entertained that tim-
ber should be felled only during the decline of the moon ; for if it be cut down
during its increase, it will not be of a good or durable quality. This impression
prevails in various countries. It is acted upon in England, and is made the
ground of legislation irt France. The forest laws of the latter country inter-
dict the cutting of timber during the increase of the moon. M. Auguste de
Saint Hilaire states, that he found the same opinion prevalent in Brazil.
( Signer Francisco Pinto, an eminent agriculturist in the province of Espirito
< Santo, assured him as the result of his experience, that the wood which was
; not felled at the full of the moon was immediately attacked by worms and very
< soon rotted.
In the extensive forests of Germany, the same opinion is entertained and acted
LUNAR INFLUENCES. 473
upon with the most undoubting confidence in its truth. Sauer, a superintendent of
some of these districts, assigns what he believes to be its physical cause. Ac-
cording to him the increase of the moon causes the sap to ascend in the lim-
ber; and, on the other hand, the decrease of the moon causes its descent. If
the timber, therefore, be cut during the decrease of the moon it will be cut in
a dry state, the sap having retired ; and the wood, therefore, will be compact,
solid, and durable. But if it be cut during the increase of the moon, it will be
felled with the sap in it, and will therefore be more spongy, more easily at-
tacked by worms, more difficult to season, and more readily split and warped
by changes of temperature.
Admitting for a moment the reality of this supposition concerning the motion
of the sap, it would follow that the proper time for felling the timber would be
the new moon, that being the epoch at which the descent of the sap would
have been made, and the ascent not yet commenced. But can there be
imagined in the whole range of natural science, a physical relation more ex-
traordinary and unaccountable than this supposed correspondence between the
movement of the sap and the phases of the moon ? Assuredly theory affords
not the slightest countenance to such a supposition ; but let us inquire as to the
fact whether it be really the case that the quality of timber depends upon the
state of the moon at the time it is felled.
M. Duhamel Monceau, a celebrated French agriculturist, has made direct
and positive experiments for the purpose of testing this question ; and has
clearly and conclusively shown that the qualities of timber felled in different
parts of the lunar month are the same. M. Duhamel felled a great many trees
of the same age, growing from the same soil, and exposed to the same aspect,
and never found any difference in the quality of the timber when he compared
those which were felled in the decline of the moon with those which were
felled during its increase ; in general they have afforded timber of the same
quality. He adds, however, that by a circumstance, which was doubtless for-
tuitous, a slight difference was manifested in favor of timber which had been
felled between the new and full moon — contrary to popular opinion.
Supposed Lunar Influence on Vegetables. — It is an aphorism received by all
gardeners and agriculturists in Europe, that vegetables, plants, and trees,
which are expected to flourish and grow with vigor, should be planted, grafted,
and pruned, during the increase of the moon. This opinion is altogether erro-
neous. The increase or decrease of the moon has no appreciable influence on
the phenomena of vegetation ; and the experiments and observations of several
French agriculturists, and especially of M. Duhamel du Monceau (already al-
luded to) have clearly established this.
Montanari has attempted, like M. Sauer, to assign the physical cause for
this imaginary effect. During the day, he says, the solar heat augments the
quantity of sap which circulates in plants by increasing the magnitude of the
tube through which the sap moves ; while the cold of the night produces the
opposite effect by contracting these tubes. Now, at the moment of sunset, if
the moon be increasing, it will be above the horizon, and the warmth of its
light would prolong the circulation of the sap ; but, during its decline, it will not
rise for a considerable time after sunset, and the plants will be suddenly exposed
) to the unmitigated cold of the night, by which a sudden contraction of leaves
| and tubes will be produced, and the circulation of the sap as suddenly obstructed.
If we admit the lunar rays to possess any sensible calorific power, this rea-
soning might be allowed ; but it will have very little force when it is consid-
ered that the extreme change of temperature which can be produced by the
lunar light, does not amount to the thousandth part of a degree of tho ther-
mometer.
474
LUNAR INFLUENCES.
It is a curious circumstance that this erroneous prejudice prevails on the
American continent. M. Auguste de Saint Hiliare states, that in Brazil cul-
tivators plant during the decline of the moon, all vegetable whose roots are
used as food, and, on the contrary, they plant during the increasing moon,
the sugar-cane, maize, rice, beans, &c., and those which bear the food upon
their stocks and branches. Experiments, however, were made and reported by
M.de Chauvalon, at Martinique, on vegetables of both kinds planted at different
limes in the lunar month, and no appreciable difference in their qualities was
discovered.
There are some traces of a principle in the rule adopted by the South
American agronornes, according to which they treat the two classes of plants
distinguished by the production of fruit on their roots or on their branches dif-
ferently ; but there are none in the European aphorisms. The directions of
Pliny are still more specific : he prescribes the time of the full moon for sow-
ing beans, and that of the new moon for lentils. " Truly," says M. Arago,
" we have need of a robust faith to admit without proof that the moon, at the
distance of 240, 000 miles, shall in one position act advantageously upon the
vegetation of beans, and that in the opposite position, and at the same distance,
she shall be propitious to lentils."
Supposed Lunar Influence on Grain. — Pliny states that if we would collect
grain for the purpose of immediate sale, we should do so at the full of the
moon ; because, during the moon's increase the grain augments remarkably in
magnitude : but if we would collect the grain to preserve it, we should choose
the new moon, or the decline of the moon.
So far as it is consistent with observation that more rain falls during the in-
crease of the moon than during its decline, there may be some reason for this
maxim ; but Pliny, or those from whom we receive the maxim, can barely have
credit for grounds so rational : besides which, the difference in the quantity of
rain which falls during the two periods is too insignificant to produce the
effects here adverted to.
Supposed Lunar Influence on Wine-making. — It is a maxim of wine-growers,
that wine which has been made in two moons is never of a good quality, and
cannot be clear. Toaldo, the celebrated Italian meteorologist, whose mind ap-
pears to have been predisposed for the reception of lunar prejudice, attempts
to justify this maxim. " The vinous fermentation," he says, " can only be car-
ried on in two moons when it begins immediately before the new moon ; and,
consequently, that this being a time when the enlightened side of the moon is
turned for the most part from the earth, our atmosphere is deprived of the heat
of the lunar rays ; that therefore the temperature of the air is lowered, and the
fermentation is less active.
To this we need only answer, that the moon's rays do not affect the temper-
ature of the air to the extent of one thousandth part of a degree of the ther-
mometer, and that the difference of temperatures of any two neighboring places
in which the process of making the wine of the same soil and vintage might be
conducted, must be a thousand times greater at any given moment of time, and
yet no one ever imagines that such a circumstance can affect the quality of the
wine.
It is a maxim of Italian wine merchants, that wine ought never to be trans-
ferred from one vessel to another in the month of January or March, unless in
the decline of the moon, under penalty of seeing it spoiled.
Toaldo has not favored us with any physical reason for this maxim ; but it
is remarkable that Pliny, on the authority of Hyginus, recommends precisely
the opposite course. We may presume that from such contrary rules, it may
reasonably be inferred that the moon has no influence whatever in this case.
LUNAR INFLUENCES. 475
Among the maxims of Pliny we find that grapes should be dried by night at
new moon, and by day at full moon.
When the moon is new it is below the horizon during the night, and above
it during the day ; and when it is full it is above the horizon during the night,
and below it during the day. The maxim of Pliny, therefore, is equivalent to
a condition requiring that the grapes should be dried when the moon is below
the horizon. It is evident that the absence of the moon is not required in this
case in consequence of any effect which her light might produce if she were
present ; for when the moon is new she affords no light, even when in the fir-
manent, the illuminated side being turned from the earth. If the maxim be
founded upon any reason, it must, therefore, either be on some influence which
the moon is supposed to produce when present, independent of her light (the
absence of which influence is desired), or it may be that she may be supposed
to transmit some effect through the solid mass of the earth when on the other
side of it which she is incapable of producing without its intervention. The
maxim is probably as absurd and groundless as the other effects imputed to the
moon.
Supposed Lunar Influence on the Complexion. — It is a prevalent popular no-
tion in some parts of Europe, that the moon's light is attended with the effect
of darkening the complexion.
That light has an effect upon the color of material substances is a fact well
known in physics and in the arts. The process of bleaching by exposure to the
sun is an obvious example of this class of facts. Vegetables and flowers which
grow in a situation excluded from the light of the sun are different in color
from those which have been exposed to its influence. The most striking in-
stance, however, of the effect of certain rays of solar light in blackening a light
colored substance, is afforded by chloride of silver, which is a white substance,
but which immediately becomes black when acted upon by the rays near the
red extremity of the spectrum. This substance, however, highly susceptible
as it is of having its color affected by light, is, nevertheless, found not to be
changed in any sensible degree when exposed to the light of the moon, even
when that light is condensed by the most powerful burning lenses. It would
seem, therefore, that as far as any analogy can be derived from the qualities of
this substance, the popular impression of the influence of the moon's rays in
blackening the skin receives no support.
M. Arago (who generally inclines to favor rather than oppose prevailing
popular opinions), appears to think it possible that some effect may be pro-
duced upon the skin exposed on clear nights, explicable on the same principle
as that by which we have explained the effects erroneously imputed to what is
called the red moon. The skin being, in common with the leaves and flowers
of vegetables, a good radiator of heat, will, when exposed on a clear night, for
the same reasons, sustain a loss of temperature. Although this will be to a
certain extent restored by the sources of animal heat, still it may be contended
that the cooling produced by radiation is not altogether without effect. It is
well known that a person who sleeps exposed in the open air on a night when
the dew falls, is liable to suffer from severe cold, although the atmosphere around
him never falls below a moderate temperature ; and although no actual depo-
sition of dew may take place upon his skin. This effect must arise from the
constant lowering of temperature of the skin by radiation. In military cam-
paigns the effects of bivouacking at night appear to be generally admitted to
darken the complexion.*
* Le hale de bivouac is an effect quite recognised. Hale is a term which expresses a state of the
air which makes an impression upon the complexion, rendering tanned and burnt.
There is a proverb which is used in certain parts of France as a wnrning '
against night promenades : —
" due Ion PO! y la sereine
Fau gene la gent Mouraine."
It is remarkable that this proverb is current in places where the red moon is
not noticed.
Supposed Lunar Influence on Putrffaction. — Pliny and Plutarch have trans-
milted it as a maxim, that the light of the moon facilitates the putrefaction of
animal substances, and covers them with moisture. The same opinion pre-
vails in the West Indies, and in South America. An impression is prevalent,
also, that certain kinds of fruit exposed to moonlight lose their flavor and be-
come soft and flabby ; and that if a wounded mule be exposed to the light of
the moon during the night, the wound will become irritated, and frequently be-
come incurable.
Such effects, if real, may be explained upon the same principles as those by
which we have already explained the effects imputed to the red moon. Ani-
mal substances exposed to a clear sky at night, are liable to receive a deposi-
tion of dew, which humidity has a tendency to accelerate putrefaction. But
this effect will be produced if the sky be clear, whether the moon be above the
horizon or not. The moon, therefore, in this case, is a witness and not an
agent ; and we must acquit her of the misdeeds imputed to her.
Supposed Lunar Influence on Shell-flsh. — It is a very ancient remark, that
oysters and other shell-fish become larger during the increase than during the
decline of the "moon. This maxim is mentioned by the poet Lucilius, by Au-
lus Gellius, and others ; and the members of the academy del Cimrnto appear
to have tacitly admitted it, since they endeavor to give an explanation of it.
The fact, however, has been carefully examined by Rohault, who has com-
pared shell-fish taken at all periods of the lunar month, and found that they ex-
hibit no difference of quality.
Supposed Lunar Influence on the Marrow of Animals. — An opinion is preva-
lent among butchers that the marrow found in the bones of animals varies in
quantity according to the phase of the moon in which they are slaughtered.
This question has also been examined by Rohault, who made a series of ob-
servations which were continued for twenty years with a view to test it ; and
the result was that it was proved completely destitute of foundation.
Supposed Lunar Influence on the Weight of the Human Body. — Sanctorius,
whose name is celebrated in physics for the invention of the thermometer, held
it as a principle that a healthy man gained two pounds weight at the begin-
ning of every lunar month, which he lost toward its completion. This opinion
appears to be founded on experiments made upon himself; and affords another
instance of a fortuitous coincidence hastily generalized. The error would
have been corrected if he had continued his observations a sufficient length of
time.
Supposed Lunar Influence on Births. — It is a prevalent opinion that births
occur more frequently in the decline of the moon than in her increase. This
opinion has been tested by comparing the number of births with the periods
of the lunar phases ; but the attention directed to statistics as well in this
country as abroad, will soon lead to the decision of this question.*
Supposed Lunar Influence on Incubation. — It is a maxim handed down by
Pliny, that eggs should be put to cover when the moon is new. In France it
is a maxim generally adopted, that the fowls are better and more successfully
reared when they break the shell at the full of the moon. The experiments ai.d
* Other sexual phenomena, such as the period of eertation, vulgarly supposed to have some relu-
tion to the lunar mouth, have no relation whatever to that period.
LUNAR INFLUENCES.
observations of M. Girou de Buzareingues have given countenance to this
opinion. But such observations require to be multiplied before the maxim can
be considered as established. M. Girou inclines to the opinion that during
the dark nights about new moon the hens sit so undisturbed that they either kill
their young or check their development by too much heat ; while in moonlight
nights, being more restless, this effect is not produced.
Supposed Lunar Influence on Mental Derangement and other Human Maladies.
— The influence on the phenomena of human maladies imputed to the moon is
rery ancient. Hippocrates had so strong a faith in the influence of celestial
objects upon animated beings, that he expressly recommends no physician to
be trusted who is ignorant of astronomy. Galen, following Hippocrates, main-
tained the same opinion, especially of the influence of the moon. Hence in
diseases the lunar periods were said to correspond with the succession of the
sufferings of the patients. The critical days or crises (as they were afterward
called), were the seventh, fourteenth, and twenty-first of the disease, corres-
ponding to the intervals between the moon's principal phases. While the
doctrine of alchymists prevailed, the human body was considered as a micro-
cosm ; the heart representing the sun, the brain the moon. The planets had
each its proper influence : Jupiter presided over the lungs, Mars over the
liver, Saturn over the spleen, Venus over the kidneys, and Mercury over the
organs of generation. Of these grotesque notions there is now no relic, ex-
cept the term lunacy, which still designates unsoundness of mind. But even
this term may in some degree be said to be banished from the terminology of
medicine, and it has taken refuge in that receptacle of all antiquated absurdities
of phraseology — the law. Lunatic, we believe, is still the term for the subject
who is incapable of managing his own affairs.
Although the ancient faith in the connexion between the phases of the moon
and the phenomena of insanity appears in a great degree to be abandoned, yet
it is not altogether without its votaries ; nor have we been able to ascertain
that any series of observations conducted on scientific principles, has ever
been made on the phenomena of insanity, with a view to disprove this con-
nexion. We have even met with intelligent and well-educated physicians who
still maintain that the paroxysms of insane patients are more violent when the
moon is full than at other times.
Mathiolus Faber gives an instance of a maniac who at the very moment of
an eclipse of the moon, became furious, seized upon a sword, and fell upon
every one around him. Ramazzini relates that, in the epidemic fever which
spread over Italy in the year 1693, patients died in an unusual number on the
21st of January, at the moment of a lunar eclipse.
Without disputing this fact (to ascertain which, however, it would be neces-
sary to have statistical returns of the daily deaths), it may be objected that the
patients who thus died in such numbers at the moment of the eclipse, might
have had their imaginations highly excited, and their fears wrought upon by
the approach of that event, if popular opinion invested it with danger. That
such an impression was not unlikely to prevail is evident from the facts which
have been recorded.
At no very distant period from that time, in August, 1654, it is related that
patients in considerable numbers were by order of the physicians shut up in
chambers well closed, warmed, and perfumed, with a view to escape the in-
jurious influence of the solar eclipse, which happened at that time ; and such
was the consternation of persons of all classes, that the numbers who flocked ,
to confession were so great that the ecclesiastics found it impossible to admin- |
ister that rite. An amusing anecdote is related of a village curate near Paris,
who, with a view to ease the minds of his flock, and to gain the necessary
478
LUNAR INFLUENCES.
time to get through his business, seriously assured them that the eclipse was )
postponed for a fortnight.
Two of the most remarkable examples recorded of the supposed influence
of the moon on the human body, are those of Vallisnieri and Bacon. Vallis-
nieri declares that being at Padua recovering from a tedious illness, he suffered
on the 12th of May, 1706, during the eclipse of the sun, unusual weakness
and shivering. Lunar eclipses never happened without making Bacon faint ;
and he did not recover his senses till the moon recovered her light.
That these two striking examples should be admitted in proof of the ex-
istence of lunar influence, it would be necessary, says M. Arago, to establish
the fact that feebleness and pusillanimity of character are never connected
with high qualities of mind.
Menuret considered that cutaneous maladies had a manifest connexion with
the lunar phases. He says that he himself observed in the year 1760, a pa-
tient afflicted with a scald head (teigne), who, during the decline of the moon,
suffered from a gradual increase of the malady, which continued until the
epoch of the new moon, when it had covered the face and breast, and produced
insufferable itching. As the moon increased, these symptoms disappeared by
degrees ; the face became free from the eruption ; but the same effects were
reproduced after the full of the moon. These periods of the disease continued
for three months.
Menuret also stated that he witnessed a similar correspondence between
the lunar phases and the distemper of the itch; but the circumstances were
the reverse of those in the former case ; the malady obtaining its maximum at
the full of the moon, and its minimum at the new moon.
Without disputing the accuracy of these statements, or throwing any sus-
picion on the good faith of the physician who has made them, we may observe
that such facts prove nothing except the fortuitous coincidence. If the rela-
tion of cause and effect had existed between the lunar phases and the phe-
nomena of these distempers the same cause would have continued to produce
the same effect in like circumstances ; and we should not be left to depend for
the proof of lunar influence on the statements of isolated cases, occurring under
the observation of a physician who was hi-mself a believer.
Maurice Hoffman relates a case which came under his own practice, of a
young woman, the daughter of an epileptic patient. The abdomen of this girl
became inflated every month as the moon increased, and regularly resumed its
natural form with the decline of the moon.
Now if this statement of Hoffman were accompanied by all the necessary
details, and if, also, we were assured that this strange effect continued to be
produced for any considerable length of time, the relation of cause and effect
between the phases of the moon and the malady of the girl could not legiti-
mately be denied ; but receiving the statement in so vague a form, and not
being assured that the effect continued to be produced beyond a few months,
the legitimate conclusion at which we must arrive is, that this is another ex-
ample of fortuitous coincidence, and may be classed with the fulfilment of
dreams, prodigies, &c., &c.
As may naturally be expected, nervous diseases are those which have pre-
sented the most frequent indications of a relation with the lunar phases. The
celebrated Mead was a strong believer, not only in the lunar influence, but in
the influence of all the heavenly bodies on all the human. He cites the case
of a child who always went into convulsions at the moment of full moon.
Pyson, another believer, cites another case of a paralytic patient whose tl
was brought on by the new moon. Menuret records the case of an epileptic
patient whose fits returned with the full moon. The transactions of learned |
LUNAR INFLUENCES. 479
societies abound with examples of giddiness, malignant fever, somnambulism,
&c., having in the.ir paroxysms more or less corresponded with the lunar
phases. Gall states, as a matter having fallen under his own observation, that
patients suffering under weakness of intellect, had two periods in the month
of peculiar excitement ; and in a work published in London so recently as
1829, we are assured that these epochs are between the new and full moon.
Against all these instances of the supposed effect of lunar influence, we have
little direct proof to offer. To establish a negative is not easy. Yet it were
to be wished that in some of our great asylums for insane patients, a register
•should be preserved of the exact times of the access of all the remarkable
paroxysms ; a subsequent comparison of this with the age of the moon at the
time of their occurrence would furnish the ground for legitimate and safe con-
elusions. We are not aware of any scientific physician who has expressly
directed his attention to this question, except Dr. Olbers of Bremen, celebrated
for his discovery of the planets Pallas and Vesta. He states that in the course
of a long medical practice, he was never able to discover the slightest trace of
any connexion between the phenomena of disease and the phases of the moon.
In the spirit of true philosophy, M. Arago, nevertheless, recommends caution
in deciding against this influence. The nervous system, says he, is in many
instances an instrument infinitely more delicate than the most subtle apparatus
of modern physics. Who does not know that the olfactory nerves inform us
of the presence of odoriferous matter in air, the traces of which the most re-
fined physical analysis would fail to detect ? The mechanism of the eye is
< highly affected by that lunar light which, even condensed with all the power
> of the largest burning lenses, fails to affect by its heat the most susceptible (
thermometers, or, by its chemical influence, the chloride of silver ; yet a small
portion of this light introduced through a pin-hole will be sufficient to produce
an instantaneous contraction of the pupil ; nevertheless the integuments of this
membrane, so sensible to light, appear to be completely inert when otherwise
affected. The pupil remains unmoved, whether we scrape it with the point of
a needle, moisten it with liquid acids, or impart to its surface electric sparks.
The retina itself, which sympathizes with the pupil, is insensible to the influ-
ence of the most active mechanical agents. Phenomena so mysterious should
teach us with what reserve we should reason on analogies drawn from experi-
ments made upon inanimate substances, to the far different and more difficult
case of organized matter endowed with life.
In conclusion, then, it appears that of all the various influences popularly
supposed to be exerted on the surface of the earth, few have any foundation in
fact. The precession of the equinoxes, the accumulated effect of which ren-
dered necessary the alteration of the calendar, which produced the distinction be-
tween the old and new style, is a consequence of the moon's attraction combined
with that of the sun upon the protuberant matter around the equatorial parts of
the earth ; and the nutation of the earth's axis, and the consequent periodical
change of the obliquity of the ecliptic, is an effect due to the same cause. I
have on another occasion shown that the tides of the ocean are real effects
also arising from the combined attractions of the moon and sun, but chiefly of
the former.
The precession of the equinoxes is a progressive annual change in the posi-
tion of those points on the firmament where the centre of the sun crosses the
( equator on the 21st of March and the 21st of September. It has been ascer-
J tained by observation, and verified by theory, that these points move annually
<, on the ecliptic with a slow motion in a contrary direction to the apparent mo- I
* tion of the sun ; in consequence of which the sun, after each revolution of the J
^ ecliptic, meets these points before that revolution has been completed ; conse- (
480
LUNAR INFLUENCES.
quently the sun's centre returns to the same equinoctial point be-fore it makes
one complete revolution of the heavens : hence has arisen the distinction be-
l tween a sidereal year, which is the actual time the earth takes to make a com-
) plete revolution round the sun, and an equinoctial or civil year, which is the
period between the successive returns of the centre of the sun to the same
equinoctial point, and is the interval within which the periodical vicissitudes
of the seasons are completed
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
Orbitual Motion of Comets. — Their Number. — Their Light. — Explanati(Mi of thu — Theory of Her
schel. — Constitution of Comet*. — Nebulosity.— Nucleus. — Tail — Cornels of 1811 — 1680 — 1769 —
1744—1843—1844.
31
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMET8.
483
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
OF a.l the objects which attract attention in the heavens, none have excited
feelings of greater awe, or awakened sentiments of more intense curiosity, than
comets. What are these bodies ? or are they bodies at all ? What is their
character and constitution ? Whence do they derive their light ? Do they be-
long to our system ? Whence have they come, and whither do they go I Are
they, as was long believed, of the same class as the aurora borealis ? Although
much still remains to be discovered before full, clear, and definite answers can
be given to these and similar questions, yet much that is interesting has been
ascertained by the labors chiefly of contemporary astronomers. We shall, on
"the present occasion, present what is certainly known in as brief a space as
possible.
ORBITUAL MOTIONS OF COMETS.
Comets are attached to the solar system by the tie of gravitation, and in their
motions round the sun are governed by the same law of attraction, as that
which operates on the planets. Since they are susceptible of gravitation, they
must therefore be material.
In their motions, however, they present circumstances strikingly different
from those which characterize the planets. The law of gravitation determines
nothing regarding the orbit of a body in moving round the sun, except that it
be one or other of those curves called conic sections, and that the place of the
sun shall be ihe focus of the curve. Subject to this restriction, the orbit of a
revolving body may be very various in magnitude, form, position, and direction.
The orbits of the planets are, nevertheless, all very nearly of the same form,
being all nearly circular, and all in the same position, being all very nearly in
the plane of the ecliptic; and they all move in the same direction, being that of
the annual motion of the earth. The comets observe none of these charac-
teristics in their orbitual motions. Their orbits vary indefinitely in form. None
484
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OP COMETS.
are circular, or even nearly so. Some are ovals of various eccentricity. Some
are either parabolas, or ellipses of such extreme eccentricity as to be undistin-
guishable from parabolas by any observations we have been enabled to make
upon them. Others, again, seem to move in hyperbolas.
The magnitudes of the planetary orbits increase regularly, according to a
certain harmonious proportion. No order or regularity is discoverable among
the magnitudes of the cometary orbits.
The orbits of comets are not confined to the plane of the ecliptic : they are
found to be at every possible angle with it from 0° to 90°. Arago has exam-
ined the position of the orbits of a great number of comets, and has found that
an equal number move at every inclination with the ecliptic.
Unlike planets, comets do not move in one uniform direction round the sun.
Some move in the same direction as the earth, and some in the opposite direc-
tion. There are about as many retrogade as direct.
Such are the chief circumstances which distinguish the motions of the com-
ets from those of the planets.
NUMBER OF COMETS.
The determination of the number of comets connected with our system is a
question which, although not admitting of a demonstrative solution, may be
solved upon grounds of a high degree of probability ; and it is one of so much
interest, that we are induced here to lay before our readers the views of M. Ara-
go and others on this point.
The total number of distinct comets, whose paths during the visible parts of
their course had been ascertained up to the year 1832, was one hundred and
thirty-seven. In order to discover whether bodies of this nature prevail more
in any particular regions of space than in others — whether, like the planets,
they crowd into a particular plane, or are distributed through the universe with-
out any preference of any one region to any other — it was necessary to exam-
ine and compare the paths of these hundred and thirty-seven bodies. After a
close examination of the planes of their orbits with respect to that of the earth,
it appears that the numbers inclined at various angles, from 0° to 90°, is pretty
nearly the same. Thus, at angles between 80° and 90° there are fifteen com-
ets ; while at angles between 10° and 20° there are thirteen ; and between 30°
and 40° there are seventeen. Again, the points where they pass through the
plane of the earth's orbit are found to be uniformly distributed in every direc-
tion around the sun. The points where they pass nearest to the sun are like-
wise distributed uniformly round that body. Their least distances from the sun
also vary in such a manner as leads to the supposition of their uniform distri-
bution through space. Thus, if we suppose a globe, of which the sun is the
centre, to pass through the orbit of Mercury, so as to enclose the space round
the sun, extending a distance on every side equal to the distance of Mercury,
thirty of the ascertained comets, when at their least distance from the sun, pass
within that globe. Between that globe and a similar one through the orbit of
Venus, forty-four comets pass under like circumstances. Between the latter
globe and a like one through the orbit of the earth, thirty-four pass. Between
the globe through the orbit of the earth and one through the orbit of Mars,
twenty-three pass ; and between the latter and a globe through the orbit of Ju-
piter, six pass. No comet has ever been visible beyond the orbit of Jupiter.
It must be here observed, that beyond the orbit of Mars it is extremely difficult
to discern comets ; and this may account for the comparatively small number
of ascertained comets which do not come nearer to the sun than that limit A
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OP COMETS.
SyN^Oa^^v
485
comparison of the above numbers with the spaces included between these suc-
cessive imaginary globes, and with the relative facility or difficulty of discern-
ing comets in the different situations thus assigned, leads to a demonstration !
that, so far as these hundred and thirty-seven observed c»mets can be consid-
ered as an indication of the general distribution of comets through space, that
distribution ought to be regarded as uniform ; that is, an equal number of com-
ets have their least distances included in equal portions of space.
Adopting, then, this conclusion, M. Arago reasons in the following manner:
> The number of ascertained comets which, at their least distances, pass within
1 the orbit of Mercury is thirty. Now, our most remote planet, Herschel, is
forty-nine times more distant from the sun than Mercury ; consequently, a
globe, of which the sun is the centre, and whose surface would pass through
the orbit of Herschel, would include a space greater than a similar globe
through the orbit of Mercury, in the proportion of the cube of forty-nine to one.
Assuming the uniform distribution of comets, it will follow that, for every com-
et included in a globe through the orbit of Mercury when at its least distance,
there will be a hundttd and seventeen thousand six hundred and forty-nine
comets similarly included within the globe through the orbit of Herschel. But
as there are thirty ascertained to be within the former globe, there will, there-
fore, be three millions five hundred and twenty-nine thousand four hundred arid
seventy within the orbit of Herschel.
Thus it appears that, supposing no comet ranging within the limits of Mer-
cury has escaped observation, that portion of space enclosed within the globe
through Herschel must be swept by at least three millions and a half of comets.
But there can be no doubt that many more than thirty comets pass within the
globe through Mercury ; for it would be contrary to all probability to assume
that, notwithstanding the many causes obstructing the discovery of comets, and
the short time during which we have possessed instruments adequate to such
an inquiry, we should have discovered all the comets ranging within that limit.
It is, therefore, more probable that seven millions of comets are enclosed within
the known limits of the system than the lesser number ! Such is the astound-
ing conclusion to which M. Arago's reasoning leads.
LIGHT OF COMETS.
The light of comets is an effect of which astronomers have hitherto given
no satisfactory account. If any of these bodies had been observed to have
exhibited phases like those of the moon and the inferior planets, the fact of
their being opaque bodies, illuminated by the sun, would be at once establish-
ed. But the existence of such phases must necessarily depend upon the come*
itself being a solid mass. A mere mass of cloud or vapor, though not self-lu-
minous, but rendered visible by borrowed light, would still exhibit no effect of
this kind : its imperfect opacity would allow the solar light to affect its con-
stituent parts throughout its entire depth — so that, like a thin fleecy cloud, it
would appear not superficially illuminated, but receiving and reflecting light
through all its dimensions. With respect to comets, therefore, the doubt which
has existed is, whether the light which proceeds from them, and by which
they become visible, is a light of their own, or is the light of the sun shining
upon them, and reflected to our eyes like light from a cloud. For a long peri-
od this question was sought to be determined by the discovery of phases. M.
Arago then proceeded to apply to the question a very elegant mode of investi-
gation, depending on a property* by which reflected light may be distinguished
* Polarization.
486
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
from direct light, and the existence of which property there are sufficient opti-
cal means of detecting. He has, however, more recently furnished us with,
as we conceive, much more simple and satisfactory means of putting the ques-
tion finally at rest ; jf, indeed, it be not already decided.
It is an established property of self-shining bodies, that at all distances from
the eye they have the same apparent splendor. Thus the sun, as seen from the
planet Herschel, seems as bright as when seen from the earth. It is true that
he is much smaller, but stiil equally bright. The smallest brilliant may be as
bright as the largest diamond. We must not here be understood to imply that
he affords the same light ; that is quite another effect. W'hat is intended to
be conveyed, will perhaps be best understood by considering the effect of
viewing the sun through a pin-hole made in a card. The card being placed at
a small distance from the eye, it is evident that the eye will view only a small
portion of the sun's disk, limited by the magnitude of the pin-hole ; but that
portion, so far as it goes, will be as bright as it would be were the card remov-
ed. Now, the effect here produced, by limiting the portion of the sun's disk
which the eye is permitted to see, is precisely the sam^ as if the eye were
carried to so great a distance from the sun, that its apparent magnitude would
be reduced to equality with that portion of its disk which is seen through the
hole in the card.*
Now, applying this principle to the question of cometary light, it will follow
that, if a comet shines by light of its own, and not by light received from the
sun, it will, like all other self-luminous bodies, have the same apparent bright-
ness at all distances. It will, therefore, coase to be visible, not from want of
sufficient apparent brightness, but from want of sufficient visual magnitude.
Now, it may be shown that the limit of visual magnitude which would cause
the disappearance of a self-luminous body is so extreme, that it would be to-
? tally inapplicable to this case. By varying the magnitude of the object-glass
) of a telescope (which may be easily done), with which such a body is viewed,
( in proportion to the magnifying power of the eye-glass, it is always possible to
make the image of the same apparent brightness ; that is, supposing the object
itself to maintain a uniform splendor. Consequently, if a body submitted to
this species of observation, cease to be visible even by a telescope, it will fol-
low, that it must disappear either by a very extreme diminution of visual mag-
nitude, or by the loss of its own intrinsic splendor. Now, to apply this test to
the question of comets. Let us ask in what manner they disappear ? Is their
disappearance the consequence of an excessive diminution of visual magnitude ?
or is it to be attributed to the diminished quantity of light which they transmit?
Every astronomer will immediately reply that the latter only can cause the
disappearance. The greater number of comets, including the most brilliant
and remarkable one of 1680 more especially, have obviously disappeared by
the gradual enfeeblement of their light. They were, as it were, extinguished.
At the very time they ceased to be visible, they possessed considerable visual
magnitude. But such a mode of disappearance is incompatible with the char-
acter of a self-luminous body, unless we suppose that, from some physical
cause, it gradually loses its luminosity.
But in answer to this is adduced the observed fact, that the dimensions of
comets are enlarged as they recede from the sun ; that the luminous matter,
thus existing in a less condensed state, will shine with a proportionally enfee-
bled splendor ; and that at length, by the dilation of the body, the light be-
comes so dilute, that it is incapable of affecting the retina so as to produce
sensation.
* This property is demonstrable by mathematical reasoning.
In answer to this objection, M. Arago has submitted to examination the rate
at which comets increase their dimensions as they recede from the sun, ao-
cording to Valz ; and calculates the corresponding diminution of intrinsic
splendor which would arise from such a cause. The question then is, wheth-
er, by such a diminution of splendor, the brightest comets would be invisible
beyond the orbit of Jupiter ? This question he proposes to decide by the fol-
lowing experimental test, to be applied to some future comet.
Let a telescope be selected having a large opening and low magnifying
power, by the aid of which the comet may be observed in every part of its
visible course. Let the body be observed with this instrument at some deter-
minate distance from the sun, such as, for example, the distance of Venus.
M. Arago shows how, by applying different magnifying powers to the teles-
cope under these circumstances, the image of the comet may be made to as-
sume different degrees of brightness. He shows, also, how the magnifying
power may be regulated, so as to exhibit the image of the comet with just that (
degree of brightness with which it would appear at any given increased dis- <
tance to the lowest magnifying power ; on the supposition of its being a self- 5
shining body, losing brightness by reason of the enlargement of its dimensions. '
In this way, he shows that the actual brightness which the comet ought to have \
at any given distance from the sun, when looked at with any given magnifying j
power, may be predicted. He proposes, then, that, this observation being pre- )
viously made, the comet should be observed subsequently at the proposed dis- *
tances. If it appear with that degree of brightness which it ought to have in }
correspondence with such previous observations, then there will be a presump-
tion that it shines with its own light. But if, as is probable, and perhaps near-
ly certain, the splendor of the comet at increased distances will be greatly less
than it ought to be, and that it will be wholly invisible at distances at which it
ought to be seen, then there will be conclusive proof that it is a body not self-
luminous, but. one which derives its light from the sun ; and that its disappear-
ance, when removed to any considerable distance from that luminary, arises
from the extreme faintness of the light which its attenuated matter reflects.
It will, of course, be perceived, that the enlargement of the volume of the
comet will produce a diluting effect upon its reflected light, as much as it
would if it shone with direct light ; and this furnishes an additional reason for
its rapid disappearance as it recedes from the sun.
It, will doubtless excite surprise, that the dimensions of a comet should be
enlarged as it recedes from the source of heat. It has been often observed in
astronomical inquiries, that the effects, which at first view soem most improba-
ble, are nevertheless those which frequently prove to be true ; and so it is in
this case. It was long believed that comets enlarged as they approached the
sun ; and this supposed effect was naturally and probably ascribed to the heat
of the sun expanding their dimensions. But more recent and exact observa-
tions have shown the very reverse to be the fact. Comets increase their volume
as they recede from the sun ; and this is a law to which there appears to be no
well-ascertained exception. This singular and unexpected phenomenon has
been attempted to be accounted for in several ways. Valz ascribed it to the
pressure of the solar atmosphere acting upon the comet ; that atmosphere, being
more dense near the sun, compressed the comet and diminished its dimensions ;
and, at a greater distance, being relieved from this coercion, the body swelled
to its natural bulk. A very ingenious train of reasoning was produced in sup-
port of this theory. The density of the solar atmosphere and the elasticity ot
the comet being assumed to being such as they might naturally be supposed,
the variations of the comet's bulk were deduced fay strict reasoning, and showed
a surprising coincidence with the observed change in the dimensions. But
488
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
this theory is tainted by a fatal error. It proceeds upon the supposition that
the comet, in the one hand, is formed of an elastic gas or vapor ; and, on the
other, that it is impervious to the solar atmosphere through which it moves. /
To establish the theory, it would be necessary to suppose that the elastic fluid
composing the comet should be surrounded by a nappe or envelope as elastic as
the fluid composing the comet, and yet wholly impenetrable by the solar at-
mosphere.
Several solutions of this phenomenon have been proposed by Sir John Her-
schel :* one is, that the comet consists of a cloud of particles, which either
have no mutual cohesion, or none capable of resisting their solar gravita-
tion ; that, therefore, these particles move round the sun as separate and inde-
pendent planets, each describing an ellipsis or parabola, as the case may be.
If this be admitted, it is demonstrable on geometrical principles, and, indeed,
it follows as a necessary consequence of the principle of gravitation, that the
particles thus independently moving, must converge as they approach the sun,
so as to occupy a more limited space, and to become condensed ; and that on
receding from the sun, they will again diverge and occupy increased dimen-
sions.
Herschel insists on this the more, because he conceives it has the character
of a vera causa. The fact is, the hypothetical part of it consists, not in the
assumed effect of the gravitation of the particles of the comet, but in the as-
sumption that the mutual cohesion or mutual gravitation of these particles is a
quantity evanescent in comparison with their separate gravitation toward the
sun. This can scarcely be ranked as anything but a supposition assumed to
account for the phenomena.
Another theory proposed by Sir John Herschel, which indeed is not al-
together incompatible with the simultaneous operation of the former cause, iar
that the nebulous portion of the comet, or that portion which reflects the sun's
rays, is of the nature of a fog, or a collection of discrete particles of a vapor -
izable fluid floating in a transparent medium ; similar, for example, to the cloud
of vapor which appears at some distance from the spout of a boiling kettle.
Now, since these molecules, during the comet's approach to the sun, absorb its
rays and become heated, a portion of them will be constantly passing from the
liquid to the gaseous or invisible state. As this change must commence from
without, and must be propagated inward, the effect will be a diminution of the
comet's visible bulk. On the other hand, as it retreats from the sun, it will lose
by radiation the heat thus acquired ; which, in conformity with the general
analogy of radiant heat, will escape chiefly from the unevaporated or nebulous
mass within. The dimensions of this will therefore begin and continue to in-
crease by the precipitation immediately above it of fresh nebula ; just as we
see fogs in. cold and still nights forming on the surface of the earth, and grad-
ually extending upward as the heat near the surface is dissipated. The comet
would thus appear to enlarge rapidly in its visible dimensions, at the moment
that its real volume is in fact slowly shrinking by the general abstraction of
heat from the mass.
" This process," says Sir John Herschel, " might go on in the entire absence
of any solid or fluid nucleus ; but supposing such a nucleus to exist, and to
have acquired a considerable increase of temperature in the vicinity of t'he sun,
evaporation from its surface would afford a constant and copious supply of va-
por, which, rising into its atmosphere, and condensing it at its exterior parts,
would tend yet more to dilate the visible limits of the nebula. Some such pro-
cess would naturally enough account for the appearances which have been
* Memoirs Royal Astron. Soc., vol. vi., p. 104.
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
489
| no'iced in the head of certain comets, where a stratum void of nebula has been
> observed, interposed, as it were, between the denser portion of the head, or
[ nucleus, and the coma. It is analogous to the meteorological phenomenon of
> a definite vapor plane, so commonly observed ; and in certain cases, may admit
[ of two or more alternations of nebula and clear atmosphere."
Sir John offers a third supposition to account for the effects, by attributing
[ them to the ethereal medium surrounding the sun.
" Fourier," says he, " has rendered it not improbable, that the region in
| which the, earth circulates has a temperature of its own greatly superior to
i what may be presumed to be the absolute zero, and even to some artificial de-
| grees of cold. I have shown, I think, satisfactorily, that if this be the case,
such temperature cannot be due simply to the radiation of the stars, but must
arise from some other cause, such as the contact of an ether, possessing itself
a determinate temperature, and tending, like all known fluids, to communicate
this temperature to bodies immersed in it. Now if we suppose the tempera-
ture of the ether to increase as we approach the sun, which seems a natural,
and indeed a necessary consequence, of regarding it as endued with the ordi-
nary relations of fluids to heat, we are furnished with an obvious explanation
of the phenomenon in question. A body of such extreme tenuity as a comet,
may be presumed to take very readily the temperature of the ether in which
it is plunged ; and the vicissitude of warmth and cold thus experienced, may
alternately convert into transparent vapor, and reprecipitate the nebulous sub-
stance, just as we see an increase of atmospheric temperature dissipate the
fog, not by abstracting or annihilating its aqueous particles, but by causing
them to assume the elastic and transparent state which they lose, and again
appear in fog when the temperature sinks."
CONSTITUTION OF THE COMETS.
The word comet is derived from a Greek word signifying hair, and hence
the name implies a hairy star. The nebulosity, or a sort of illuminated haze
which always appears around these bodies, is that from which the name was
probably taken.
The head of the comet is the brightest part of the centre, usually supposed
to be a nucleus something like that of a planet ; but this is so enveloped in the
hair, or nebulosity, that it has never yet been satisfactorily ascertained whether
it be solid matter.
A luminous train, varying in length, is frequently, though not always, attached
to these objects. It has been generally called the tail. Sometimes comets
have more than one of these appendages.
THE NEBULOSITY.
As the brightness of the nebulosity gradually fades away toward the edges,
there is sometimes a difficulty in measuring its bulk. Its form is generally
globular, and its light is often so faint that the comet can only be discovered by
telescopes. The diameter of the nebulous mass has been found to vary from
6,000 miles upward. The comets of 1795, 1797, 1798, and 1804, were sur-
rounded by a nebulosity which measured less than 7,000 miles in diameter.
That many comets have no solid matter in the centre of the nebulosity is
proved by the fact that the smallest stars are often visible through them ; even
the ancients, without the aid of the telescope, ascertained this fact. Seneca
reported that stars were discoverable through comets, although he does not
distinctly state through what part of the comet they were seen. Sir William
490
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
Herschel, however, distinctly saw a star of the 16th magnitude through the
very centre of the head of the comet which appeared in the year 1795. Prof.
Struve, on the 28th of Nov., 1828, saw a star of the llth magnitude, so small
as to be invisible to the naked eye, through the centra of Encke's comet.
The parts of the nebulosity which immediately surround the nucleus appear
to be much less luminous than the more distant parts, as if the nebulous atmo-
sphere became less dense and more transparent near its surface. At some dis-
tance from its centre the luminous effect suddenly increases so as to assume the
appearance of rings of light aromid the nucleus ; sometimes two, three, or
more, such concentric rings have been perceived surrounding comets, separated
by dark intervals.
It must be understood, that the arrangement which produces the appearance
of these concentric rings, is. in reality, a succession of spherical shells of va-
por or nebulous matter, which alternately increases and decreases in density,
forming an atmosphere of various densities around the comet. This has been
illustrated by Arago by comparing it to successive layers of clouds of different
heights surrounding our globe. To perfect the analogy we have only to im-
agine three transparent spherical shells, still retaining the peculiar optical quality
which distinguishes them from the pure air by which they are separated.
The memorable comet of 181] was enveloped by a nebulosity the thickness
of which measured 30,000 miles above the surface or nucleus of the comet.
The thickness of the nebulosity of the comet of 1807 was 36,000 miles;
that of 1799 was 24,000 miles
In comets which have a tail, the rings we have now adverted to are not com-
plete : they terminate at the edges of the tail, and are open through the space
where the tail abuts upon the head.
THE NUCLEUS.
Some difference of opinion prevails among observers whether comets real-
ly have nuclei at all. Wrhen, however, they are supposed to have them, they
are generally admitted to be small, and of doubtful magnitude. The following .
measurements are given by Arago as having been ascertained, or, at least, as- i
sumed : —
The comet of 1798 had a nucleus whose diameter was 30 miles ; that of
1805, 35 miles ; the comet of 1799, 450 miles ; the comet of 1807, 650 miles ;
and the second comet of 1811, about 3,000 miles.
Those who deny the existence of solid matter within the nebulosity of comets,
maintain that even the most brilliant and most conspicuous of those bodies, and
those which have presented the strongest resemblance to planets, are complete-
ly transparent. It might be supposed that a fact so simple as this, in this age
of astronomical activity, could not remain doubtful ; but it must be considered,
that the combination of circumstances which alone would test the truth of this
doctrine, is of rare occurrence. It would be necessary that the centre of the
head of the comet, although very small, should pass critically over a star, in
order to ascertain whether such star is visible through it. With comets having
extensive nebulosity without nuclei, this has sometimes occurred ; but. we have
not had such satis>r'ictory examples in the more rare instances of those which
have distinct nuclei. The following examples are, however, adduced : —
On the 23d of October, 177 1, Montaigne, at Limoges, saw a star of the 6th
magnitude through the nucleus of a small comet ; but, unfortunately, he has
not stated through what part, of the nucleus he saw it, and the power of the
telescope he used was too limited to entitle his observations to much consider-
ation.
„ '-**S*^***^
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
491
On the 1st of April, 1796, Dr. Olbers, at Bremen, saw a star of the sixth or
seventh magnitude, and although it was covered by a comet, he found that its
light was not perceptibly diminished. The observer in this case did not feel
sure that the nucleus was between the eye and the star.
MESSIER, when observing a comet in 1774, saw a small telescopic star be-
side it, and having looked at it again after the lapse of some hours, he ob-
served a second star near the first. He explained this by the supposition that
at the moment of his first observation the nucleus of the comet concealed the
second star. •
WARTMANN states that on the night of the 28th November, 1828, a star of
the 8th magnitude was completely eclipsed by Encke's comet. Here again,
however, it is objected that Wartmann's telescope was too feeble to be trusted
in such an observation.
In the absence of a more decisive test of the occultation of a star by the
nucleus, it has been maintained that the existence of a solid nucleus may be
fairly inferred from the great splendor which has attended the appearance of
some comets. A mere mass of vapor could not, it is contended, reflect such
brilliant light. The following are the examples adduced by Arago : —
In the year 43 before Christ, a comet appeared which was said to be visible
to the naked eye bv daylight. It was the comet which. the Romans considered
to be the soul of Caesar transferred to the heavens after his assassination.
In the year 1402 two remarkable comets were recorded. The first was so
brilliant that the light of the sun at noon, at the end of March, did not prevent
its nucleus, or even its tail, from being seen. The second appeared in the
month of June, and was visible also for a considerable time before sunset.
In the year 1532, the people of Milan were alarmed by the appearance of a
star which was visible in the broad daylight. At that time Venus was not in
a position to be visible, and consequently it is inferred that this star must have
been a comet.
The comet of 1577 was discovered on the 13th of November by Tycho Bra-
che, from his observatory on the isle of Huene, in the sound, before sunset.
On the 1st of February, 1744, Chizeaux observed a comet more brilliant
than the brightest star in the heavens, which soon became equal in splendor to
Jupiter, and in the beginning of March it was visible in the presence of the
sun. By selecting a proper position for observation, on the 1st of March it
was seen at one o'clock in the afternoon without a telescope.
Such is the amount of evidence which observation has supplied respecting
the existence of a solid nucleus within the nebulosity of comets. The most
that can be said of it is, that it presents a plausible argument, giving some prob-
ability, but no positive certainty, that comets have visited our system which
have solid nuclei, but, meanwhile, this can only be maintained with respect to
few; most of those which have been seen, and all to whictf very accurate ob-
servations have been directed, have afforded evidence of being mere masses of
semi-transparent vapor.
THE TAIL.
Although by far the great majority of comets are not attended by tails, yel
that appendage, in the popular mind, is more inseparable from the idea of a
comet than any other attribute of these bodies. This circumstance probably
proceeds from its singular and striking appearance, and from the fact that most
comets visible to the naked eye have had tails. In the year 1531, on the occa-
sion of one of the visits of Halley's comet to the solar system, Pierre Apian
observed that the comet generally presented its tail in the direction from the
~]
492 PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
, I
sun. This principle was hastily generalized, and is even at present too gen- ?
erally adopted. It is true that in most cases the tail extends itself from that
part of the comet which is most remote from the sun ; but its direction rarely
corresponds with the direction of a shadow of the comet. Sometimes it has
happened that the tail forms with the line drawn to the sun a considerable an-
gle, and cases have occurred when it was actually at right angles to the direc-
tion of the sun.
Another character which has been observed to attach to the tails of comets,
which, however, is not invariable, is, that they incline constantly toward the
region last quitted by the comet, as if, in its progress through space, it were
subject to the action of some resisting medium, so that the nebulous matter with
which it is invested, suffering more resistance than the solid nucleus, remains
behind it and forms the tail.
The tail sometimes appears to have a curved form. The comet of 1744
formed almost a quadrant. It is supposed that the convexity of the curve, if it
exists, is turned in the direction from which the comet moves. It is proper to
state, however, that these circumstances regarding the tail have not been clearly
and satisfactorily ascertained.
The tails of comets are not of uniform breadth or diameter ; they appear to
diverge from the comet, enlarging in breadth and diminishing in brightness as
their distance from the comet increases. The middle of the tail usually pre-
sents a dark stripe, which divides it longitudinally into two distinct parts. It
was long supposed that this dark stripe was the shadow of the body of the
comet, and this explanation might be accepted if the tail was always turned
from the sun ; but we find the dark stripe equally exists when the tail, being
turned sideward, is exposed to the effect of the sun's light.
This appearance is usually explained by the supposition that the tail is a
hollow, conical shell of vapor, the external surface of which possesses a cer-
tain thickness. When we view it, we look through a considerable thickness
of vapor at the edges, and through a comparatively small quantity at the mid-
dle. Thus, upon the supposition of a hollow cone, the greatest brightness would
appear at the sides, and the existence of a dark space in the middle would be
perfectly accounted far.
The tails of comets are not always single ; some have appeared at different
times with several separate tails. The comet of 1744, which appeared on the
7th or 8th of March, had six tails, each about 4° in breadth, and from 30° to 41°
in length. Their sides were well defined and tolerably bright, and the spaces
between them were as dark as the other parts of the heavens.
The tails of comets have frequently appeared, not only of immense real
length, but extending over considerable spaces of the heavens. It will be easi-
ly understood that the apparent length depends conjointly upon the real length
of the tail and the position in which it is presented to the eye. If the line of
vision be at right angles to it, its length will appear as great as it can do at its
existing distance ; if it appear oblique to the eye, it will be foreshortened more
or less, according to the angle of obliquity. The real length of the tail is easi-
ly calculated when the apparent length is observed and the angle of known ob-
liquity. The following results of actual observation and calculation have been
given by Arago.
The comet of 1811 exhibited a tail which extended over 23° of the heavens.
It was observed by Herschel and Schroeter, the latter of whom deduced from
his calculations the following results : That the central globe of light or nucleus
was 50,000 miles in diameter, or about six and a half times the diameter of the
earth. The nebulosity was extremely rarified in comparison with nucleus, re-
sembling a faint, whitish light, scattered in separate portions. It was separated
r
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
493
into two, one immediately encompassing the nucleus, the other of a moro faint
and grayish light, sweeping round it at a distance and forming its double tail.
The head-veil, as he called it, surrounded the nucleus at a distance equal to its
breadth, and seemed as unconnected with the nucleus as the ring of Saturn is
with its body. The diameter of this ring measured nearly a million of milrs,
being greater than the diameter of the sun. Between the 4th and Gth of De-
cember a great change took place in its appearance, the rarefied nebulous mat-
ter, which had for three months been so unusually repelled from the nucleus
on every side, was again attracted to it.
The double tail of this comet was exceedingly faint when compared with its
nucleus. On the 16th of October a small tail instantaneously issued from it,
then vanished, and suddenly reappeared, when its length was nearly two mill-
ions and a half of miles.
Herschel's estimate of the magnitude of the nucleus is much less than that
of Schrtieter ; he calculates that, on the 15th of October, the tail measured one
hundred millions of miles, and was, consequently, greater than the entire dis-
tance of the sun from the earth. He estimated its breadth on the 12th of Octo-
ber at fifteen millions of miles.
Attempts have been made to calculate on probable grounds the elliptic orbit
of this cornet. Bessel computed that its period is three thousand three hundred
and eighty-three years, and other astronomers make it more than four thousand
years. A sketch of the comet of 1811 is annexed.
The comet of 1680 exhibited a tail measuring 68°, of a curved form ; of
which a traditional sketch is annexed.
The comet of 1680, which was observed by all the European astronomers
of that day, exhibited a tail which extended over 90° of the heavens at its peri-
helion ; its distance from the surface of the sun was not more than one sixth
of the sun's diameter ; and it was calculated in that position to have a velocity
of more than 120,000 miles an hour. When the head of this comet was seen
at the zenith, its tail reached the horizon. The actual length of the tail was
calculated to be one hundred and twenty-three millions of miles ; so that if the
head of this comet were at the sun, the tail would extend thirty millions of
miles beyond the earth's orbit.
In 1769 a comet appeared, the tail of which spread over a space of 97°
of the heavens, and its actual length was fifty millions of miles. Difier-
ent estimates have been given of the length of the tails of the comet of 1744.
494 PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OP COMETS.
Arago assigns their length at about ten millions of miles, others have estimated
it. at twenty-three millions of miles. The following description of it is taken
from the memoirs of the Academy of Sciences for ]744. It was first seen at
Lausanne, in Switzerland, December 13, 1743: from that, period it increased
in brightness and magnitude as it approached nearer the sun. On the evening
of January 23, 1744, it appeared exceedingly bright and distinct, and the di-
ameter of its nucleus was nearly equal to that of Jupiter. Its tail then extended
above 16° from its body, and was supposed to be about twenty-three millions of
miles in length. On the llth of February the nucleus, which had before been
always round, appeared oblong in the direction of the tail, and seemed divided
into two parts by a black stroke in the middle. One of the parts had a sort of
beard brighter than the tail : this beard was surrounded by two unequal dark
strokes that separated the beard from the hair of the comet. These odd phe-
nomena disappeared the next day, nnd nothing was seen but irregular obscure
spaces, like smoke, in the middle of the tail, and the head resumed its natural
form. On the 15th of February the tail was divided into two branches — the
eastern, about 8° long, the western, 24.° On the 23d the tail began to be bent.
It showed no tail till it was as near the sun as the orbit of Mars, and it in-
creased in length as it approached that luminary. At its greatest length it was
computed to equal a third part of the distance of the earth from the sun. This
was one of the most brilliant comets that had appeared since that of 1680. Its
tail was visible for a long time after its body was hid under the horizon. It
extended 20 or 30 degrees above the horizon two hours before sunrise.
In the month of March, 1843, a comet appeared in the heavens exhibiting a
great extent of tail, but very faintly luminous. Its course was calculated from
the observations made upon it. but no satisfactory grounds were obtained by
which it might be identified with any former body of the same kind. The
form of the tail was remarkable, inasmuch as its edges were parallel and not
divergent. The length of the tail was calculated from the observations, and
said to amount to above one hundred millions of miles. This comet was ren-
dered memorable by the fact of its having passed at its perihelion so close to
the sun that Arago believed it must have grazed its surface. A sketch of this
comet is annexed on the opposite page.
The following observations of Professor Nichol on this comet will be read
with interest : —
" Early in the year 1843, an object appeared in the heavens that must have
astonished many worlds besides ours. Situated in the region below the
constellation Orion, it had the appearance of a long auroral streak, visible
immediately after sunset, and evidently pursuing a course through our system.
Unfavorable weather concealed it from me until the 25th of March, when it
presented the dim and strange appearance I have shown in the frontispiece. The
beginning or head of this streak, although never observed here, was often seen
in southerly latitudes, where it appeared like a very small star with an enor-
mous misty envelope ; beyond which that immense tail streamed through the
sky. There is no reason to believe that this nucleus was in reality a star, but
only a denser portion of the nebulous substance of which the whole object was
composed ; for with other apparitions of the same kind, whose brighter parts
looked like a star, the application of a very small telescopic power has always
been enough to dissipate the illusion, and to resolve what seemed their solid
region into a thin vapor.
' This extraordinary visiter was measured, and the nature of its path de-
tected ; and certainly the results of these inquiries caused us to look on it with
/ still greater wonder. The diameter or breadth of its nucleus was rather more
( than a hundred thousand miles ; and the tail streaming from it, which in some
•v^*.
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS
496 PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
parts was thirty times as broad, stretched through the celestial spaces to the
enormous distance of one hundred and seventy millions of miles, or about the
whole size of the orbit of the earth. Nor were its motions less singular. Un-
like any globe connected with the sun. it did not move in a continuous curve,
which, like the circle or ellipse, re-enters into itself, and thus constitutes, to
the body that has adopted it, a fixed, however eccentric home ; but spying our
luminary afar off, as it lay amid those outer abysses, it approached along the
arm of a hyperbola, rushed across the orderly orbits of our system into closest
neighborhood with the sun, being at that time apart from him only by a sev-
enth part of our distance from the moon, and, defying his attraction, by force of
its own enormous velocity, which then was nothing less, in one part of its
mass, than one third of the velocity of light, it entered on the other divergent
arm of its course, and sped toward new immensities.
" It was when retiring that this unexpected visitant was seen for a brief pe-
riod in Europe. In the course of its approach it must have passed between us
arid the sun, causing a cometic eclipse, and, in so far, an interception of his
heating rays ; but that occurred during our night.
'• And now, what is to be made of this extraordinary apparition ? what is its
nature ? what its relations to our system ? and what new revelation does it
bring concerning the structure of the universe? Its relations with our system
appear to have been few and transitory ; and in this it resembles the probable
millions of such masses, that have, since observation began, crossed the plane-
tary orbits toward the sun, and, after bending round him, gone in pursuit of
some other fixed star. No more than three are known to belong, properly
speaking, to the scheme dependant on our luminary — Encke's, Biela's, and
Halley's ; but though these do revolve around him in fixed periods, the cir-
cumstance must be regarded in the light of an accident, their orbits being
wholly unlike any other, and having little assurance of stability ; for as they
cross the planetary paths, every one of them may yet undergo the fate of Lex-
ell's, which, by the action of Jupiter, was first twisted from its diverging orbit
into a comparatively short ellipse ; and then, after making two consecutive
revolutions around the sun, so that it might have begun to deem itself a den-
izen, was, by the same planet twisted back again, and sent off, never to revisit
us, away to the chill abysses ! Strange objects, with homes so undefined —
flying from star to star — twisting and winding through tortuous courses, until,
perhaps, no depth of that infinite has been untraversed ! What, then, is it your
destiny to tell us ? To what new page of that infinite book are you an index?
We missed, indeed, only very narrowly, an opportunity of information which
might have been not the most convenient; for the earth escaped being involved
in the huge tail of our recent visiter, merely by being fourteen ilmjs beiiind it.
For one, I should have had no apprehension even in that case, of the realization
of geological romances, viz., of our equator being turned to the pole, and the
pole to the equator — the ocean, meanwhile, leaping from its ancient bed. But
if that mist, thin though it was, had, with its next to inconceivable swiftness,
brushed across our globe, certainly strange tumults must have occurred in the
atmosphere ; and probably no agreeable modification of ihe breathing medium
of organic beings. Right, certainly, to be most curious about comers ; but pru-
dent, withal, to inquire concerning them from a greater distance than that : al-
though one night in November, 1837, I cannot be persuaded that the earth did
not venture on a similar, but comparatively small experiment. It was when
our globe passed from the peaceful vacant spaces into that mysterious meteor
region. The sky became kiflamed and red as blood; coruscations, like auro-
ras, darted across it ; not as usual, streaming from one district, but shilling
constantly, and sweeping the whole heavens."
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS. j;i7
In the year 1844* two comets appeared, the first of whic-h w as scon in ?»..-
month of July. It was described to have a bright white color— tint its t ,ii
was turned from the earth so as not to be visible to us. Stars of very -
magnitude were visible through its body, ami its light was s
said to be easily detected in the heavens, in Curope, during the bright
of July. A drawing of this comet, obtained ;u th« Royal ObservatoiT,
is annexed.
The second comet of 1844 was seen in ihe month of September. It \v:is
observed at Kensington, by Sir James South, on the evening of the loth. In
the course of that month a drawing was obtained of it by the assistance of Sir
• The following note is annexed to the last edition of Nicbol'e Solar System, relative to one of tLe
comets of 1843: —
" As this volume is leaving the press, intelligence has been received of 11 new cotr.ot being
to our system. Its orbit ha/becu determined by the illustrious Gauss, and its period in nearly Bevcn r
yearn.
" The importance of this fact cannot well be overrated ; for. along with EncXe'* nnd Biola s, it
must advance oar know'edpe of some of the mysterious points connected with tlie eaotftoMM "t
tho planetary scheme. We are yet ignorant whether tliis body ha« merely i ot lw<»>n (/b-erveil
till MOW, or whether, like Lexell's. it has beeu construined into a new orbit by die action of 0oot«
I'lant't.-. '
498
PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF COMETS.
James South and the use of his instruments. We subjoin a copy of this
drawing.
This comet appeared to have a brilliant and well-defined nucleus five
seconds in diameter, and a broad luminous tail of about two degrees in length
THUNDER-STORMS.
The Deficiency of our present Knowledge. — Of common Thunder-Clouds. — Character and Electric
Charge of Clouds. — Discharge between vicinal Clouds. — Conditions for such Discharge. — Discharge
between the Clouds and the Earth. — Mutual Attraction or Repulsion of Electrized Clouds. — Char-
acters of the upper and of the lower Surface of Clouds. — Negative Testimony, respecting Thun-
der from an isolated Cloud. — Cases of Lightning from an isolated Cloud. — Afresh Case related by I
M. Duperrey. — Obvious Inferences from the above Cases. — Of Volcanic Thunder-Clouds. — (
Lightning from the Ashes, Smoke, and Vapor of Volcanoes. — Theoretical Ideas of its Origin. — <
Of the Height of Stormy Clouds. — Mode of Observation. — Ascending Flashes of Lightning. — Mi- <
nor Limits of the Height of Storm-Clouds. — Inefficiency of many recorded Observations. — Table
of Observations as collected by Arago. — Flash of Lightning from a Cloud upward. — Of Light-
ning.— Varieties of Lightning. — Zigzag Lightning. — Forked Lightning. — Deficiency in our Vo-
cabulary of Terms. — Sheet Lightning. — Table of Instances of Ball-Lightning. — Mr. Harris's
Explanation of Ball-Lightning. — On the Speed of Lightning. — Theory of Vision illustrated by
a rotating Disk. — Wheatstone's Experiments. — Observations of the Velocity of Lightning. —
Silent Lightning. — Heat Lightning. — Thunder Bursts. — Of Luminous Clouds. — Clouds them-
selves faintly Luminous. — Possession of the duality in various Degrees. — Clouds visibly Lumin-
ous.— Various Observations of luminous Clouds. — Sabine's Observations. — Of Thunder. — Rolling
of Thunder. — Duration and Intensity of rolling Thunder. — Violent Thunder from Ball-Lightning. —
Interval between Lightning and Thunder. — A case in which they were almost simultaneous. —
Thunder without Lightning. — Noise attendant on Earthquakes. — Of the Attempts to explain the
Phenomena of Thunder and Lightning. — Identity of Lightning and Electricity. — Whether pon-
derable Matter, or a Propagation of Undulations. — Difficulties of the Undulatory Hypothesis. —
Bull-Lightning and the Inferences to which it leads. — Bituminous' Matter accompanying a Case
of Lightning Discharge. — Explanations of silent Lightnings. — Observations of silent Lightnings. —
Difficulties in the Explanation of silent Lightnings. — Arago's Suggestion for Observations. — Light-
ning hidden by dense Clouds.— Place of the Sound of Thunder.— Greatest Distance at which
Thunder is heard. — Case of Distance beyond which it was Inaudible. — Distance at which other
Sounds have been heard. — Effects of Heat, Cold, Wind, &c. — On the Transmission of Sound. —
Thunder heard when no Cloud was Visible.— Hypothesis of the Cause of Thunder from the Cre-
ation of a Vacuum. — Contractions and Dilatations of the Air assigned as the Cause. — Ponillet'a
Theory of Decompositions and Recompositions. — Influence of Echo in causing the Roll. — Dura-
tion of an Echo.— Duration of the Roll of Thunder at Sea.— Dr. Robison'a Explanation of the
Roll. — Application of the Theory to Zigzag Lightning. — Inefficiency of the Theory. — Means of
obtaining a Minor Limit of the Length of a Flash.
THUNDERSTORMS. 601
THUNDER-STORMS.
SINCE the epoch of the memorable experiments of Franklin, meteorologists,
in all parts of the world where physical science is cultivated, have observed
with increased interest the phenomena of thunder-storms. Although a great
body of facts have been, by such means, accumulated, the general conclu-
sions deducible from them are few ; nor are even these few invariably sus-
tained by that consistency, and harmony of effects which are necessary, to
command universal assent. Indeed, the facts themselves, on which, alone, any
safe and certain generalization could be based, were isolated, and scattered
through the memoirs of the various scientific bodies to which their observers
had originally consigned them ; and many of the most important and valuable
observations remained in unpublished memoranda, or were incidentally men-
tioned in the narratives of voyagers and travellers, where they were little like-
ly to attract the attention of those who, alone, are capable of estimating their
value, until, by the indefatigable zeal of M. Arago they were collected, ar-
ranged, and compared, and presented to the world, invested with all those
charms of style which render the productions of that philosopher so universal-
ly .attractive.* It is natural that the impatient student should desire to be supplied
with clear and comprehensive principles, and be relieved from the tedious de-
tails of particular observations and experiments ; that facts should be laid before
him in extensive groups and classes, so as to suggest easy and obvious gener-
alizations. It is equally natural that the authors of elementary and general
treatises should desire, in every case, to present the scientific truths in concise
and general propositions, connected together by distinct logical relations. The
temptation to yield to this disposition by presenting all physical problems as
completely resolved, and all elementary questions as completely exhausted —
of laying down sweeping conclusions and general principles, on matters which ,
are, m fact, surrounded with difficulty and doubt— is most hurtful to the progress (
* See Notice eur le Tonncrre dans 1'Annuaire du Bureau dea Longitudes pour 1'An i.838. v
of science, and a great impediment to the development of truth. To no part
of physical science do these observations apply with more force than to the
subject of the present discourse. That the phenomena of thunder and lightning
proceed from sudden and violent derangements of the electrical equilibrium of
the atmosphere or the clouds which float in it, may be regarded as certain ; and
that the laws which are observed to prevail among electrical phenomena offer
various analogies which afford explanations more or less plausible and proba-
ble, for some of the facts observed in thunder-storms, may be admitted. But
that any comprehensive and general principles have been established from
which the various atmospheric phenomena in which thunder and lightning are
exhibited, can be deduced in the same manner, and with the same clearness
and certainty, as the effects of common electricity have been deduced from the
theory of Dufaye, Summer, and Poisson, cannot be maintained. Under such
circumstances, both author and reader must patiently submit to the investiga-
tion of facts separated from theory or hypothesis ; and when these facts have
been clearly and fully stated, such general consequences as they justify may
be easily deduced from them, and the apparent discordances which, by com-
parison, may be apparent among them, will afford grounds for further observa-
tion and inquiry to those who devote their labor to such researches.
COMMON THUNDER-CLOUDS.
It is generally agreed that the formation of clouds is due to the partial con-
densation, in the upper regions of the air, of the vapors which have exhaled
from the surface of the earth. This condensation may be effected by any
cause which produces a diminution of temperature, and is, probably, in most
cases, the consequence of the mixture of two currents of air. charged with
vapor, and having different temperatures. The positive electricity which rises
into the atmosphere with the vapor, and which augments in intensity, as the
height increases, to the greatest elevation to which observation is extended, is
collected in the clouds thus formed ; and when the globules or vesicles com-
posing the cloud have collected together in sufficiently close proximity, the
cloud takes the nature of one continued conductor and the free electricity accu-
mulates on its surface in the same manner as on the conductor of an electrical
machine. The existence of positively-electrified clouds is, therefore, easily
conceived.
If the electroscopic observations which indicate negatively-electrified clouds
be rightly interpreted, and the existence of such clouds be admitted, several
hypotheses have been proposed to explain them.
If a cloud in its natural state, or feebly charged with positive electricity, ap-
proach another cloud strongly charged with the same electricity, the latter will
exercise upon it an inductive action, by which its natural electricities will be
decomposed, the positive electricity being repelled to the most remote part, and
the negative fluid being accumulated at the nearest part. If, under these cir-
cumstances, the most remote part be in contact with the earth, as it might be,
with the summit of a mountain, for example, the positive electricity will es-
cape to the earth, and the cloud will remain charged with negative electricity.
If any cause disengage this cloud from contact with the earth, it will float in
the atmosphere and afford an example of a negatively-electrified cloud.
If two clouds, one or both of which are charged with electricity, approach
each other, the same phenomena must be evolved as when two conductors,
one or both of which are similarly charged, come together. If it happen (a
circumstance against which the chances are infinite), that the quantities of
electricity with which they are charged have the same relation as they w
THUNDER-STORM?.
have when the clouds are in contact, then their approach and suh-cquent con-
tact will cause no change in their electrical state save what would he din- to
inductive action. Their charges after contact will be the same as In-fur.-. u<»
electricity passing from either to the other. But if their electrical cli
have not this particular relation, then a new distribution of electricity wilTbe
the consequence of their mutual approach ; that which has less positive elec-
tricity than the condition of contact requires will receive the deficiency from
the other, and this change will be effected by an explosion before the" actual
contact of the clouds, in the same manner as the electrical equilibrium of two
conductors is established by the transmission of the spark before contact.
The distance at which the explosion'will take place, and its force, will di-prnd
on many circumstances, such as the difference between the actual charges of
'} the clouds, and the charges due to contact, the form of the clouds, and the
state of the intervening atmosphere.
It is evident, therefore, that an electrical explosion may take place between
iwo clouds, whether they are both similarly electrified, or oppositely electrified,
or one be electrified and the other in its natural state.
As the ground is, in general, negatively, and the clouds positively elec-
trified, a discharge will take place between the clouds and the earth when the*
former approach the earth within such a distance that the force of the electri-
city shall overcome the resistance of the surrounding air.
Since free electricity accumulates in great intensity at prominent points
of a conducting body, the negative electricity of the earth may be expected to
be most intense at mountain summits. Clouds being, in general, charged with
positive electricity, an attraction will, consequently, be exerted upon them
which, conspiring with the attraction of gravitation, will draw, them round such
summits.
The mutual approach of two clouds oppositely electrified is promoted by the
attraction due to their electricities : but when two clouds are similarly electri-
fied they will repel each other and their approach must be due to contrary our-
rents of air passing through strata of the atmosphere at different elevations, by
which the clouds are brought one under the other.
Beccaria, who observed at Turin, in Piedmont, in a country eminently fa-
vorable for such observations, being almost surrounded by lofty ranges, has re-
corded, with great precision, the appearances of the clouds precursive of a
storm. The observations of this philosopher being limited to the lower sur-
face of the clouds, M. Arago has obtained some accounts of the superior sur- <
face, from the military engineers employed in the trigonometrical survey, and <
who, being placed at elevated stations on the Pyrenees, were enabled to ob- ,
serve the superior surface of the strata of clouds situated below them. From \
the reports of these officers, and especially those of MM. Peytier aad Hos-
sard, it appears that there is no correspondence between the upper and
lower surface of a stratum of thunder-clouds ; that when the inferior sur-
face is perfectly even and level, the superior surface wiii bs broken in o
ridges and protuberances, rising upward to great altitudes, like '.he surface of
the earth in an alpine district. In times of great heat, such strata were ob-
served suddenly to send upward lofty vertical cones, which, stretching into
higher regions of the air, established, by their conducting power, an electrical
communication between strata of the atmosphere at very different heights.
This appearance was generally observed to precede a thunder-storm.
Franklin, Saussure, and most other meteorologists, have agreed that thunder
never proceeds from a solitary, isolated cloud. Franklin states, that if a thun-
der-cloud be at any considerable distance from the zenith of the observer, so
as to be viewed obliquely, it will be apparent that there are, in every such case, >
504 THUNDER-STORMS.
a series of two or more clouds, situate at different elevations, one below the
other ; avid that sometimes the lowest of the series is not far removed from the
suriace of the earth.
Saussure states that he never witnessed lightning to proceed from a solitary
cloud. In observations on the Col de Geant, when a single cloud, however
dense and dark it might be, was seen upon the summit, no thunder was ever
heard to issue from it ; but whenever two strata of two such clouds were formed,
one below the other, or if clouds ascended from the plain and approached that
collected round the summit, the encounter was attended by a storm of thunder,
hail, and rain.
Such is the negative testimony of Franklin and Saussure against the fact of
thunder proceeding from solitary clouds. Franklin is even more circumstan-
tial than Saussure, and maintains that thunder never proceeds from any save a
cloud of great magnitude, below which are placed a series of smaller clouds,
identical in fact, with the adscititious clouds of Beccaria.
Negative evidence is, however, not conclusive against a fact, unless the wit-
ness be actually present at the time and place of its alleged occurrence. Had
the eminent philosophers above mentioned consulted the records of science,
their persuasion of the impossibility of thunder issuing from a single cloud
would have been shaken. It is related in a memoir of the academician
Marcordle of Toulouse, that on the 12th of September, 1747, the heavens being
generally cloudless, a single small cloud was seen, from which thunder rolled
and lightning issued, by which a female by name Bordenare was killed.
In his meteorological observations made at Denainvilliers, Duhamel de Mon-
ceau relates that on the 30th of July, 1764, at half past rive, A. M., in bright
sunshine and a clear sky, there appeared a small dark solitary cloud, from
which thunder and lightning proceeded, by which an elm-tree near the chateau
was stricken.
Similar observations of lightning having issued, followed by thunder, from
solitary clouds, have been recorded by Bergman and by Captain Hossard, al-
ready mentioned.
M. Duperrey, who commanded the French corvette Uranie, relates that being
in the straits of Bombay, in November, 1818, he saw a small white cloud in a
clear sky, from which lightning issued in all directions. It ascended slowly
in the heavens in a direction opposed to the wind, and was at a great distance
from all other clouds, which appeared to be fixed upon the horizon. This
cloud was round in its form, and did not exceed the apparent magnitude of the
sun. Zigzag lightning issued from it, followed by thunder which resembled
the irregular discharge of musketry from a battalion commanded to fire at
pleasure. This phenomenon lasted for about thirty seconds, and the cloud
completely disappeared with the last detonations.
feuch are the evidences on the question whether the presence and proximity
of a plurality of clouds be essential to the development of the phenomena of
thunder and lightning. The analogies offered by common electricity favor the
supposition that two or more clouds are essential ; and for this very reason the
greater should be the caution for receiving the testimony of observers. It is
difficult for those whose minds are prepossessed by theory to observe and re-
cord facts and appearances as they are ; there is a disposition sometimes —
perhaps often — to see them as it is supposed they ought to be, and consequent- (
ly the testimony of the ignorant is frequently more deserving of attention than \
that of the better informed. Be this as it may, the subject is one well worthy <
of attention, and all persons, who happen to be located in regions where these (
? phenomena prevail, will have it in their power to contribute to the real advance- (
s incut of science, by carefully and accurately noting down what passes above <
them, more efl'ectually than those who with greater pretensions attempt to build
up theories, which, at best, can have no other object than as means of classify-
ing facts and guiding observers to the fittest objects of examination.
OF VOLCANIC THUNDER-CLOUDS.
The clouds of ashes, smoke, and vapor, which issue from volcanoes, exhibit
i IK- phenomena of thunder and lightning. All observers, ancient and modern,
concur in their evidence on this question. Pliny the younger, in his celebrated
letters to Tacitus, speaks of the lightning that issued from the clouds in the
eruption of Vesuvius, in the year 79 of the Christian era, in which his uncle,
Pliny the naturalist, lost his life. Delia Torre gives the same evidence respect-
ing the eruption of 1182 ; and Bracini states that the column of smoke which
issued from the same volcano in the eruption of 1631, and which spread in the
atmosphere to a distance of forty leagues, was attended by lightning, by which
many persons and animals were killed. The lightning in all these accounts
is described as being tortuous and serpentine. The same description is given
by Giovanni Valetta of the appearance of the eruption of 1707.
The inhabitants of the foot of the mountain assured Sir William Hamilton
that, in the eruption of 1767, there were more terrified at the lightning which
fell among them than at the burning lava and other fearful circumstances at-
tending the eruption.
Sir William Hamilton states, that in the eruption of 1779 there issued from
the crater of Vesuvius, together with the red-hot fluid lava, constant puffs of
black smoke, intersected by serpentine lightning, which appeared at the mo-
ment it escaped from the crater.
In 1779 the lightning was not attended by audible thuwder. It was othef-
wi.se in the eruption of the 16th of June, 1794, of which an account has been
supplied by the same observer. During the latter eruption, the loudest and
mu -it-continued claps of thunder were heard. The lightning was in this case
productive of the usual effects. Houses stricken by it were destroyed, and the
clouds of ashes, from which these lightnings issued, were carried by the wind
as i';ir as Tarentum, a distance of one hundred leagues from Vesuvius, where
the lightning struck a building and destroyed a part of it. The ashes of which
this cloud was composed were as fine as common snuff.
According to Seneca, a great eruption of Etna, in his own time, was accom-
panied by similar effects, and the same phenomena are recorded by the Abbe
.Francesco Ferrara of the eruption of 1755.
When the island called Sabrina, in the neighborhood of the Azores (which
has since disappeared), rose from the sea in 1811, columns of intensely black
smoke, composed of dust and ashes, ascended from the bosom of the deep, and
wern intersected in their darkest and most opaque parts by vivid lightnings.
The same appearances were observed in *he small volcano which, in July,
1831, appeared between Sicily and Pantellaria.
It would be natural to ascribe the electricity of volcanic clouds to the aque-
ous vapor which is ejected, mixed with the dust, ashes, and lava, in great quan-
tities from the crater ; but this supposition is not so free from difficulties as to
be admitted without some hesitation. In the eruption of Vesuvius, in 1794, it
is hard to conceive that the vapor should be carried uncondensed from Vesu-
vius to Tarentum ; nor was there anything in the appearances on thayjccasion
which indicated the presence of any other substance in the cloud save a fine
dust ; yet the lightning struck a building at that place. According to the nar-
rative of M. Tellard, who witnessed the phenomenon, columns of black smoke
rose from the ocean before the island of Sabrina was formed. In this case,
r
(. 50^ THUNDER-STORMS.
any aqueous vapor which might have been ejected from the submarine crater
must, have been condensed before the column reached the surface of the sea,
and the smoke which rose into the atmosphere must have, therefore, been free
from vapor ; yet this smoke or cloud of vjlcanic dust was intersected by light-
OF THE HEIGHT OF STORMY CLOUDS.
The distance of the clouds from which lightning proceeds is estimated by
obse'rving the interval of time which elapses between the moment at which the
flash is seen and that at which the thunder is heard. It has been demonstrated
by certain astronomical observations, that light is propagated through space at
tht- rate of about two hundred thousand miles in a second of time. This space
being greater in avast proportion than the greatest distance at -which any thun-
der cloud can be placed from the observer, it may be assumed that the moment
at which the lightning is seen is practically coincident with the moment at
which it emanates from the cloud. It has, however, been also proved that
sound is propagated through the air at about eleven hundred feet per second.
This rate is subject to some small variations, depending on the temperature of
the air, but for our present purpose it may be taken at its mean value. If, then,
the number of seconds be observed, which elapse between the moment a flash
of lightning is seen and the moment the thunder consequent upon it is heard,
and eleven hundred feet be allowed for each second in that interval, the dis-
tance of the place whence the lightning issues from the observer will be de-
termined. Thus, if five seconds elapse, the distance will be five thousand
five hundred feet ; for six seconds, it will be six thousand six hundred feet, and
so on.
If the cloud be vertically over the observer, this distance will be equal to its
actual height above the level of the observer. If it be not vertical, then its an-
gular elevation must be observed, and the height above the level of the observer
will be obtained by multiplying the computed distance by the trigonometrical
sine of the angular elevation.
'» The height of thunder-clouds is also attempted to be determined, by observ-
ing the effects produced upon objects in elevated situations stricken by the
lightning which issues from them. If it be admitted that lightning always de-
scends from the clouds toward the earth, then it may be inferred that the place
where such effects are manifested must be lower than the position of the cioud
from which the lightning proceeds ; but, if it shall appear that lightnings some-
times dart upward, nothing respecting the height of the cloud can be inferred
from such effects. Among those effects which lightning produces when it
strikes the earth is the superficial vitrification of rocks. Such effects have
been observed on the summits of some of the highest mountains of South
America by Humboldt, on the summit of Mont-Blanc by Saussure, and on the
Pyrenees by Ramond.
In cases where no means have been taken by those who witnessed thunder-
storms to determine the height of the clouds from which they proceed, the sit-
uations of the observers themselves afford a minor limit of the value of that
height. Bouguer and La Condamine were assailed by a thunder-storm on one
of the summits of the Cordilleras, in Peru. Saussure and his son encountered
violent storms on the Col du Geant and Mont-Bljw. MM. Peytier and lios-
sard witnessed thunder-storms on the Pic de Troumouse, the Pic tie Bal>
and the Tuc de Maitpas, in the Pyrenees.
Such are the principal observations collected by M. Arago, made in mount
ainous localities. The comparison of the results of these with the heights u!
THUNDER-STORMS.
507 1 1
thunder clouds, computed from observations made in flat countries and at
would supply means of determining whether the development of storms H af-
fected by the density of the air in which the clouds float, or by their proximity
to the surface of the earth. Thus, if it should appear that, in rlouds at the
same height above the level of the sea, storms are developed more frequently
when these clouds are in the neighborhood of mountains, and therefore at *a
comparatively small distance from the surface of the earth, it would follow, with
a probability proportionate to the number and character of the facts observed,
that the earth exerts an influence on clouds charged with electricity independ-
ently of the atmosphere in which these clouds float.
The height of thunder-clouds observed in a flat country, or at sea, are ob-
tained by the method first mentioned, that is, by observing the interval between
the flash and the thunder, and measuring or estimating the angular elevation
of the cloud. Unfortunately, the latter element of the computation has been very
frequently neglected by observers, the sole object having been apparently to
determine the distance of the cloud from their station, and not its vertical height.
In some cases it appears, incidentally, that the cloud from which lightning is-
sued was in the neighborhood of the zenith, and consequently the distance may
be taken as equivalent to the height. In some few the angular elevation has
been observed and recorded, and consequently the vertical height of the cloud
may be computed.
The following results of the labors of various observers have been collected
by M. Arago : —
Heightof
Vertical
tbunder-
leigutof
itricken
bunder-
Place.
Observer.
Date.
rock
cloud
Observation*.
above Uie
bovethe
level of
level of
the sea.
tbeueo.
Feet.
Feet.
Summit of Mont Blanc
Saussure -
...
15,777
Mont Perdu(Pyrenees)
Ramond ...
-
11.185
9 627
Pinchincha, (Cord.) -
Bouguer and
Storm mentioned by Bon-
guer in his work on the figure
of the earth.
La Condamine
The thunder in this storm
ColduGgant
Saussure -
5th July, 1788 -
•
11,382
14 760
succeeded the lightning with-
out any sensible interval.
Pic de Troumouse(Pyr)
Peytier and Hossard
1R9fi
9,840
10 496
Tuc de Maupas (Pyr.)
Paris -
1827 .
10,824
De L'Isle -
6th June, 1712
25,500
Tobolsk (Siberia)
Chappe -
2d July, 1761
13th July, 1761
10,955
11,382
Berlin -
Lambert -
25th May, 1773
17th June, 1773
6,232
5,248
Pondicherry
Tobolsk
Legentil -
Chappe
28th Oct., 1769
1761
From
10,824
700 to
2,600
The height of thunder-clouds determined by other data being in some cases
greater than the heights of rocks vitrified by lightning, there is nothing in the
comparison of the results exhibited in the preceding table, to justify the suppo-
sition that the vitrifications observed by Humboldt, Saussure, and Ramon, .Ud
not proceed from lightning which issued from clouds at a greater elevation.
But, on the other hand, facts are not wanting to show that this inference can-
not be certainly made. There is a church in Styria erected on a summit of i
lofty peak called Mount Saint Ursula. Jean-Baptiste Werloschnigg,* medica
practitioner, who happened to visit this church on the first of May, 1700. ot
served a stratum of dense black clouds to be formed below him at about half he
elevation of the place where he stood. These clouds soon became the seat of
508 THUNDER-STORMS.
a violent thunder-storm. Meanwhile the heavens remained perfectly clear, the
sun shining with unusual splendor. No one thought for a moment of danger;
nevertheless, a flash of lightning, ascending from the cloud, struck the church,
and killed seven persons who were in company with Werioschnigg.
It is, therefore, clearly established that lightning may issue upward from
thunder-clouds.
LIGHTNING.
Lightnings are resolved by M. Arago into three classes : First, the zigzag,
which present the appearance of narrow, well-defined threads or lines of light,
following a course which is clearly enough expressed by their name. In
color they vary, being often white, sometimes purple, blue, or violet. Second,
those lightnings which appear diffused over extensive surfaces, and which are
commonly called sheet-lightning. In color these also vary, being often an in-
tense red, but occasionally white, blue, or violet. This lightning has an ap-
pearance of a momentary light seen through a plate of glass rendered semi-
transparent by having its surface ground. Third, lightning which moves
through the air at a comparatively slow rate, appearing like a luminous ball or
sphere, or like a globe of fire. Let us call this ball-lightning.
The almost incredible velocity, as will hereafter appear, of lightning of the
first class, would hardly seem compatible with the sudden and extreme changes
of direction to which its motion is subject. This frequent reversion of direc-
tion has been more especially observed in the lightning which traverses vol-
canic clouds. Minute and circumstantial accounts of such appearances have
been supplied by Sir WILLIAM HAMILTON and others, who have observed the
eruptions of^Vesuvius. In the eruption of 1707, described by SORRENTINO,
the lightnings which issued from the crater traversed the cloud of ashes as far
as the cape Pausillippo, where the cloud terminated. After attaining that point
the lightning retraced its course, and struck the summit of the volcano.
Sir William Hamilton states, that in the eruption of 1779 the lightning was
generally confined in its play to the cloud of ashes which extended toward
Naples ; that in traversing that cloud from the crater to its limits, it seemed to
menace the city with destruction ; but it, nevertheless, after reaching the limit
of the cloud, returned toward the crater, where it rejoined the ascending col-
umn whence it originally issued.
Zigzag lightning seldom flashes between two clouds. It is generally mani-
fested between a cloud and some terrestrial object.
It has been supposed that the extremity of the lightning of the first class has
a barbed form, like the point of an arrow. Of this there is no sufficient evi-
dence. It is, however, sufficiently ascertained that it is often attended by the
effect which has given it the name of forked lightning. Thus, when a single
luminous line issuing from a cloud has traversed a certain distance it will
sometimes divide itself into two lines, which, diverging at an angle more or \
less considerable, will strike distant objects. In some cases it has been seen )
to separate into three perfectly distinct lines. The former may be called bi-
cuspidated, and the latter tri-cuspidated lightning.
Well-ascertained examples of these phenomena are rare ; the occasional
occurrence is not, however, the less certain. The abbe RICHARD states that
he witnessed a flash of lightning which left the cloud in a single line of light,
and at some distance from the earth dividing into two, and each part struck a
separate object.
NICHOLSON states, that, in a storm which broke over the west end of London,
on the 19th of June, 1781, being at Battersea, he saw distinctly several flashes
of bi-cuspidated lightning.
THUNDER-STORMS. 5Q9
The Abbe FERRARA relates that on the 18th of June, 1763, he witnessed
tri-cuspidated lightnings in the clouds which issued from the southern side of
Etna during an eruption.
The German meteorologist, KAMTZ, states that he witnessed on one occa-
sion, and one only, tri-cuspidated lightning.
'; If the simultaneous destruction of two or more objects in the same locality
'{ by lightning could be taken as conclusive evidence of a corresponding sub-di-
vision of a single flash, numerous examples might be given of multi-cuspidated
lightning. Such grounds are, however, too conjectural to be admitted as the
basis of any safe conclusions.
It is a general opinion that cuspidated lightnings, or lightnings of the first
class, are those only by which terrestrial objects are stricken.*
The lightnings of the second class, or sheet-lightnings, are inferior in the in-
tensity, and generally different in the color of their light, from those of the
first class. These distinctions are very apparent whenever the space over which
sheet-lightning is diffused is intersected by flashes of cuspidated lightning.
Sheet-lightning sometimes appears to illuminate the edges only of the clouds ;
occasionally, however, it seems to issue from the interior of their mass. The
common expression that the clouds appear to open, is strongly indicative of its
appearance.
Sheet-lightning is that which is the most frequent, and every one is familiar
with its appearance, many having never seen, or never noticed any other. In
common thunder-storms it appears in a thousand cases for one in which cus-
pidated, or ball-lightning, is exhibited.
The flashes of sheet-lightning often appear in very rapid succession, and
continue, with interruptions, for many hours. In extreme heat, these flashes
succeed each other as rapidly as the flapping of the wings of a small bird, and
present a flickering appearance in the clouds which they illuminate. The
thunder by which they are accompanied is generally low and distant.
Lightning of the third class, or ball-lightning, is still more rare in its appear-
ance than the zig-zag, or cuspidated lightning. The following instances of this
meteor have been collected by M. Arago : —
* If tbe reader has attentively considered the preceding: paragraphs, and what has been elsewhere
written on this subject, he will be sensible of the deficiency in the vocabulary of the English lan-
guage as regards the effects necessary to be expressed. T here are tliree distinct terras in the French
language, Le Tonnerre, L' Eclair, and La Foudre. The first expresses the sound proceeding from the
clouds which usually follows the flash of light, and is properly translated by thunder. Tbe second
expresses the light which precedes the thunder, and the third expresses the actual mutter, the physi-
cal sitosfatu-e, whatever it may be. which strikes terrestrial objects, and produces those effects which
are so well known. In English there is, properly speaking, no term corresponding to La Foudre.
The terms thunder and lightning are indifferently used to express the same effect as when'we say
thunder-struck and struck with, lightning. In French there is also the useful and necessary verb
foudroyer, of which there is no better English synouyme than to strike u-ith ligltfning. The temi
thunder-bolt corresponds to La Foudre, but it is scarcely admissible into the nomenclature of science.
The electric fluid, which is sometimes used to avoid the term thunder-bolt, is faulty, iuaa.imch as an
effect familiar to all mankind in all ages, ought not to be expreise-i by a term having imnHxtitUe refer-
ence to modern physical science.
510
THUNDER-STORMS.
Place.
Time.
Observer.
Appearances.
Effects.
Conesnon, near
April 14-15,
M. Deslandes.
Th»ee globe* of lire three and
They destroyed a
Brest.
1718.
a half teet in diameter.
church.
Horn.
March, 1720.
.
A globe of fire struck the
After the reSionnd
earth and rebounded.
struck the dome
of a tower and
set fire to it.
Northampton-
July 3d, 1725.
Rev. Jos. Wasse.
A trlobe of fire the apparent
shire.
size of the inooii, accompa-
nied by a hissing noise.
Northampton-
July 3d, 1725.
.
A globe of lire as large as the
shire.
head of a man. which broke
into four pieces near the
J.-.I.. i c i fxn
church.
Dorking, ourrcy.
uly ID, i /ou.
breaking into a prodigious
A house near
which they b'ke
number of fragments, were
was struck by
dispersed in all directions.
them.
Ludsroan, Corn-
Dec. 1752.
Borlase.
Several balls of fire projected
wall.
from the clouds to the earth.
Scheranitz, Hun-
Jan. 1770.
.
A globe of fire as large as a
It struck the tow-
gary.
barrel ftonneav).
er of the church.
Isle of France.
1770.
Legentil.
Three globes of fire issued
from low clouds, and sud-
denly disappeared without
any explosion.
Steeple Aston,
1772.
.
A globe of fire oscillated for
It destroyed the
Wiltshire.
a long time in the air over
houses ou which
the village, on which it fell
it fell.
vertically.
Wakefield.
Mar. 1, 1774.
Nicholson.
Meteors like falling stars fell
from the higher of two
clouds to the lower.
Eastbourne, Sus-
Sept. 1780.
Jas. Adair.
Several balls of fire fell from
Two serv'ts were
sex.
a large black cloud into the
killed in the
MM.
house of the ob-
server at . the
same moment.
Villers la Ga-
Aug. 18,1732.'
Haller.
A globe of fire passed over
It str'ck the house
renne.
the village.
of Haller.
Portsmouth.
Feb. 14, 1809.
.
Thiee successive balls of fire
They struck three
fell from the clouds in a
times the ship
short interval of time.
Warren Hast-
ings in the
harbor, passing
down the masts
each time.
Cheltenham.
April, 1814.
Howard.
A globe of fire fell from the
It struck a mill
clouds.
which it de-
stroyed.
Vesuvius.
1779 and 1794
Sir W. Hamilton.
Luminous globes appeared in
the volcanic clouds, which
burst like shells from a mor-
tar, projecting on every
side zig-zag Hashes.
Two balls of lire bounded
The roval palace
Mad lid.
like elastic balls in the
was struck with
chapel and burst in pieces.
lightning.
Samford, Cour-
Oct. 7, 1711.
.
A voluminous globe of fire
One of the towers
tenay, Devon-
fell among persons assem-
of the church
shire.
bled under the porch of the
was destroyed
church during a storm. At
by the light-
the same moment four
ning.
smaller globes burst within
the church and filled it with
a sulphureous smoke.
Steeple Aston,
1772.
Reverend Messrs.
In the same storm, the observ-
P itcairne was
Wiltshire.
Wainhouse and
ers being in a room in the
dangerously
Pitcairue.
vestry, saw suddenly ap-
wounded ; — his
i
pear before them at a foot
body, clothes,
1
distance, and about their
shoes, and his
i
own height, a ball of fire
watch, showed
I
about the size of a closed
the usual marks
i,
hand, surrounded by a
of being struck
THUNDER-STORMS.
511
PUce.
Time.
Observer.
Appearances.
Effect*.
black smoke. It burst with
by lightning.
a noise like that of the
He stated that
simultaneous discharge of
he saw the
several pieces of ordnance.
globe of fire in
A sulphureous vupor •was
tin; room for
diffused through the house.
one or two wo-
Lights of various colors.
unds after he
and having various oscilla-
was sensible of
tory motions, were seen to
having been
Petersburg.
1752.
Sokoloff.
play through the room.
On the occasion of the death
struck.
Richmann was
of Richmaun, a ball of fire
killed.
passed from the conductor
to his body.
Newcastle on
1809.
David Button.
In a thunder-storm the light-
Tyne.
ning descended the chim-
ney of the house of the ob-
server, and after an explo-
sion, several persons assem-
bled in a room, saw at the
door of the room a globe of
fire, which, after remain-
ing sometime immovable.
advanced to the mid-
•
dle of the room, •where it
burst into several frag-
ments with an explosion
like that of a rocket
At sea. 35°40'lat
July 13, 1798.
A globe of fire fell from the
It killed one sailor
8., 52 Ion. E.
clouds upon the ship Good
Hope, which burst with a
and severely
•wounded an-
violent explosion.
other.
Before the concurrent force of this evidence all doubt as to the reality of ball-
) lightning must disappear.
But while on the one hand we are compelled to admit that such phenom-
; eria do occur, and that they are true electrical effects, on the other hand we
( are no less compelled to trace in them the characters of a different kind of
j electrical discharge from the ordinary lightning flash. Professor Faraday divides
the forms of discharge into the spark, the brush, and the glow. The glow is
most readily obtained in the rarefied air of a partially exhausted receiver ; and
differs from the brush in being due to a constant renewal of discharge instead
of an intermitting action. Now Mr. Snow Harris suggests in his recent Trea-
tise, on Thunder Storms, p. 38, that the ball discharge in question possesses
many features of resemblance to the glow ; and in addition it possesses motion.
The latter fact is readily accounted for, inasmuch as the cloud which causes the
discharge is always progressing. The transition from the glow to the spark, or
flash, is easily explained ; for when the cloud passes over any terrestrial ob-
ject by which the resistance to discharge is reduced within the striking dis-
tance, disruptive discharge must take place ; the glow remaining only so long
as the resistance opposed the actual flash. Such a ball discharge is described
as having approached the ship " Montague," and to have exploded on the top-
mast ; and this is just what Mr. Harris's theory would lead us to expect. Am
there is reason to believe that many of the cases before us are not to be classed
among the effects of lightning. We shall again advert to this.
ON THE SPEED OF LIGHTNING.
The solution of this problem is due to Wheatstone, and like oome other re
suits of physical inquiry, such as the abstraction of lightning from the clouds,
\\ Inch was effected by a boy's kite, and the iridescent effect due to the varying
512
THUNDER-STORMS.
of luminous undulations, which were derived from observations on
y<r;i:-lmbbles blown from a tobacco-pipe, it is found in the plaything of a child.
Every one knows that if the end of a lighted stick be whirled rapidly rounu in
a circle or other curve, it will present the appearance of a continued line of j
liL'iit, the lighted end, which occupies, in succession, every point of the curve,
appearing to the eye to be continually present at all its points.
Ficr. 1.
To develope the principle on which this fact rests, let fig. 1 represent a
wheel with ten thin spokes or radii, dividing its circumference in ten eqv.2,1
parts, and of some strong bright color, such as red. Let this wheel be put in
communication with clock-work, so as to be made to revolve uniformly at any
required rate. This wheel, having its face vertical, and turning on a horizon-1
tal axis ; let a screen be placed before it, so as to conceal it from view, and in
this screen let an oblong opening be made, corresponding in magnitude and
position to that spoke of the wheel which is in the vertical position and pre-
sented from the centre upward. Let the screen, with such an aperture, be
represented in fig. 2.
Fig. 2.
As the wheel revolves its spokes pass the opening o, in succession, and if )
the motion of the wheel be not very rapid, a person placed before the screen (
will perceive the spokes appear and disappear in regular and uniform succes- )
sion at the opening. If the velocity of the wheel be gradually increased, the >
succession of appearances and disappearances will be rendered, by degrees, ?
^o
THUNDER-STORMS. 513
indistinct, until, at length, a velocity will be attained which will cause a spoke
to be continually seen at the opening o, in the same manner as if the whn-1
were at rest, and the spoke a were placed behind the aperture. Now, since
it is certain that in this case the presence of the spokes at the aperture is suc-
cessive, and that the intervals which the spokes are absent bear to the intervals
of their presence, the proportion of the breadth of the spokes to the breadth
of the spaces between them, it necessarily follows that the eye perceives a
spoke at the aperture during the intervals when no spoke is present there.
This circumstance is accounted for by considering the manner in which vis-
ion is effected by means of the mechanism of the eye. The light proceeding
from a visible objeqt, entering the pupil, strikes the retina and produces in it a
certain vibration, which vibration is the immediate cause of the perception of
the object from which the light has been transmitted. After the object has
ceased to transmit light to the eye, this vibration continues for a certain time,
just as the vibration of a musical string continues for a certain interval after
the bow which put it into vibration has been withdrawn ; and, as the vibration
of the string continued, after the bow is withdrawn, produces the perception of
a proportionately prolonged sound, so the vibration of the retina, after the visi-
ble object has been withdrawn, produces a proportionately prolonged perception
of its presence. In fact, there is no damper in the mechanism of the eye to
stop the effect of the action of light at the instant that action ceases. It is,
therefore, an interesting physiological problem to determine how long after that
visible object is withdrawn, and the action of light ceases, the effect on the
retina remains, and the object continues to be seen. This problem is beauti-
fully solved by the apparatus above described. The velocity of the wheel be-
ing gradually augmented until the spoke appears to be continually present at
the opening, it has been found that t his effect is produced when the wheel performs
one complete revolution in a second of time. Since the space round the centre
of the wheel is equally divided by the ten spokes, it follows that in this case
the interval between the arrival of two successive spokes at the opening is one
tenth of a second, and this must, therefore, be the duration of the impression
of an object on the retina after it has been withdrawn. If the duration were
less than this the colored spoke would not appear continually at the aperture o
when the wheel revolves in one second, but would alternately appear and dis-
appear. If it were greater, a less velocity than one revolution per second
would be sufficient to cause its continuous appearance.
Since there is nothing in what has been stated to render it necessary that
the aperture, through which the spokes are seen, should be in the vertical,
rather than any other position, it follows that in whatever position, round the
centre, that aperture be placed, a spoke will appear to be continually behind
it, so long as the wheel revolves at a rate of not less than one revolution per
second.
If, therefore, there be two or more such apertures made in the screen, a
spoke will appear constantly behind each of them. In fine, if there be an in-
finite number of such apertures round the centre, or, in other words, il the
screen be altogether removed, spokes will be seen in every direction round the
centre without any open spaces between them, or what is the same, the wheel
will appear as a circular disk of uniform red, no spokes being distinguishable.
We have here supposed that the wheel is continually illuminated. It is ne-
cessary now to inquire how long light must shine upon it in order that, revolv-
ing once per second, it may appear as a plane disk without spaces between the
spokes. If the light fall upon it only for an instant, that is, an infinitely short
time, then the wheel will be distinctly seen, for the tenth of a second, in the
position which it had when the light fell upon it. The spokes will be as distinct-
33
514 THUNDER-STORMS.
ly visible as if the wheel were at rest. But if the light continue to fall upon
the wheel during the tenth of a second, then each spoke will continue to
be illuminated from the position it has the moment the light first falls upon it,
until it arrives at the position which the preceding spoke had at that mo-
ment. Each spoke will, therefore, act upon the eye while it passes through
the space between two successive spokes, and will, therefore, be seen at every
point of that space ; and as the perception it causes at any point will continue <
while the spoke passes through the whole of that space, it follows that the
wheel will appear to the eye as a flat, circular disk uniformly illuminated.
If, however, the light continue to fall on the wheel during an interval less
than the tenth of a second, suppose, for example, the twentieth of a second,
then each spoke will be illuminated while passing through half the interval
between two successive spokes, and the wheel will present the appearance of
a circle divided into ten equal sectors, half of each sector being visible and
half invisible. If the duration of the light be any other part of the tenth of a
second, the wheel will, for the same reason, present the appearance of a circle
divided into ten equal sectors, a portion of each sector being visible, bearing
to the remaining portion, invisible, the same ratio as the duration of the
light bears to the difference between that duration and the tenth of a second.
Such an instrument will, therefore, serve as the means of estimating the du-
ration of any light which continues to illuminate the wheel for a period of time
not exceeding the tenth of a second ; and it is evident that, by varying the
number of spokes and the velocity of the wheel, the duration of any light may
be measured when its amount is greater or less than the tenth of a second.
Such is the instrument which has been applied by its inventor to measure
the duration of a flash of lightning, and, also, of the electric spark. A wheel
consisting of a hundred spokes, dividing the space round the centre into as
many equal sectors, was exposed to the light of lightning during a thunder-
storm. By clock-work, it was made to revolve ten times per second, making,
therefore, one revolution in the tenth of a second, and moving through the in-
terval between two spokes in the thousandth part of a second. If the duration
of the light by which this wheel was illuminated amounted to the thousandth
part of a second, it would appear as a complete illuminated disk without spokes.
If it amounted to half a thousandth of a second, it would appear as a circle
divided into a hundred equal sectors, half of each sector being visible and half
invisible. If the duration of the light were instantaneous, it would appear as
a wheel with a hundred spokes stationary, in the particular position it had -it
the moment the light fell upon it.
Now, such a wheel, being thus exposed to the flashes of lightning, in a storm,
H was found that when illuminated it always appeared stationary, though revolv-
iag ten times in a second. The spokes were seen distinctly, with no more
than their proper thickness. It, therefore, follows that the duration of the light
of the flashes did not amount to so great a fraction of the thousandth part of a
second as was capable of being appreciated by estimating the apparent width
of the spokes when seen by the light of the flashes. The duration of the
£ flashes must then have been a very small fraction of the thousandth part of a
( second.
But the duration of a flash is the time which the lightning takes to move
) through that part of space which it traverses while it is visible. Hence it fol-
' lows, that whatever be the extent of such a distance, it is traversed in a very
t minute 'fraction of the thousandth of a second.
j This method of observation has only been applied to lightning of the first
and second kind, no opportunity having yet been found to apply it to ball-light-
ning
THUNDER-STORMS.
515
SILENT LIGHTNING.
When the heavens are perfectly serene in hot weather, lightnings ars f.c-
quently observed to continue flashing in the atmosphere for many hours unac-
companied by thunder. These have been called heat lightnings. Such appear-
ances are not confined, as has been supposed, to those parts of the atmosphere
which are near the horizon ; on the contrary, their light extends frequently over
the whole visible firmament.
Lightning, unaccompanied by thunder, appears much more rarely when the
heavens are clouded. Sufficient evidence, however, of this phenomenon in dif-
ferent parts of the globe has been collected by M. Arago.
Thibalt de Chanvalon, in his meteorological observations, records its occur-
rence on two days in July, 1751, at Martinique. Such lightning is very com-
mon at the Antilles. Dorta mentions the same phenomena at Rio Janeiro, in
a paper published in the memoirs of the Academy of Sciences of Lisbon, in
the years 1783, 1784, 1785, and 1787, during which time he witnessed one
hundred and seventy days on which lightnings were seen unaccompanied by
thunder.
Lind witnessed at Patna, in India, latitude N. 25° 37', in the year 1826, on
seventy-three days lightning without thunder ; but neither Lind nor Dorta state
whether the heavens were clear or clouded. The probability is, that where
the occurrence of the phenomenon was so frequent, they were sometimes
clouded.
De Luc, the younger, mentions a great storm which took place at Geneva on
the 1st of August, 1791, daring which very vivid lightnings were seen without
any audible thunder. Some of the flashes on this occasion were so strong that
the loudest claps of thunder would have been expected to follow them. In the
same storm, however, other flashes were accompanied by loud thunder.
Dalton states that, in Kendal, on the 15th of August, 1791, at nine o'clock in
the evening, he witnessed in a storm vivid and continual flashes of lightning,
but heard only some thunder which was distant.
At Philadelphia, in the month of July, in the year 1841, and in New York,
in the following month, I witnessed frequent thunder-bursts (as they are there
called), in which in a clouded sky I saw a constant succession of flashes of
lightning, which sometimes continued for several hours, accompanied by very
short, occasional showers of rain. On these occasions thunder was sometimes
not heard at all, and sometimes it was only heard after long intervals of silence,
and seemed from its sound to be distant. The lightnings, nevertheless, were
vivid, and illuminated the heavens to the zenith. They appeared generally like
a light behind the clouds, the edges of which were strongly illuminated, ths
centres more faintly. These lightnings sometimes succeeded each oth',r so
rapidly that they had a fluttering appearance, like the motion of the wings of a
small bird ; and this fluttering of light would be often continued for three or
four seconds. These trembling lightnings would succeed each other '-'. inter-
vals of some minutes.
OF LUMINOUS CLOUDS.
In the darkest nights of winter, at the hour of midnight, when the influence
of the solar light is altogether withdrawn from the atmosphere, and in the ab-
sence of moonlight, a sufficient quantity of light is always uffused to render
objects around us faintly visible, and to enable us to walk without hesitation in
any open country. If the firmament be serene and cloudlese: this light is as-
THUNDER-STORMS.
cribed to the stars. But let the heavens be overcast, let the stars be hidden
by an unbroken mass of the most dense clouds, and still a sufficiency of light
will be diffused in the open country to prevent any of the difficulty and incon-
venience which would attend any attempt to walk in a dark cave, or in an
apartment with closed windows. It cannot, then, be doubted that, in the most
clouded nights of deep winter, light, proceeding from some source, is diffused
through the air. If this light be supposed to be that of the stars penetrating
the clouds, it is necessary to admit that the light of the stars in a clear night is
greater, in the same proportion as the splendor of the unclouded noonday sun
•' sxceeds the light when the firmament is covered with dense clouds. No one
( having the least powers of observation can admit such an assumption ; and if
( it be not admitted, there remains no other explanation of the nocturnal light of
^ a clouded sky, except in the admission that the clouds themselves are faintly lu-
minous.
If the supposition of the self-luminous property of clouds be entertained, the
probability that, under varied circumstances of form, density, mutual position,
temperature, and many other conditions, which will easily suggest themselves
to every mind, clouds may be endowed with this quality in various degrees.
The probability, therefore, of the hypothesis which we have just proposed to
account for nocturnal light, will be strengthened, if it can be shown that, on
particular occasions, clouds have been observed unequivocally and in much
higher degrees luminous.
In a memoir of Rozier, dated 15th of August, 1781, that philosopher states
that, being at Bezieres on that day, in the evening, at a quarter before eight
o'clock, the sun having gone down, and the firmament being overcast, thunder
was heard. At five minutes past eight, it being then complete night, the storm
having attained its height, Rozier observed a luminous point above the brow of a
hill fronting his house, which gradually augmented in magnitude until it as-
sumed the form and appearance of a phosphoric zone, subtending at his eye an
angle of about sixty degrees measured horizontally, and having the apparent
height of a few feet. Above this luminous zone was a dark space equal to its
own breadth, and over that space appeared another horizontal zone, of the same
breadth, and about half the apparent length. The middle of each of these zones
exhibited a uniform brightness, but the edges were irregular. Lightning is-
sued three times from the edges of the inferior zone, but no thunder was audi-
ble. The duration of this extraordinary phenomenon was nearly a quarter of
an hour.
Nicholson relates that, on the 30th of July, 1797, at about five o'clock in the
morning, he observed the heavens covered with dense clouds, which moved
raf idly to the west-southwest. Lightnings played constantly at northwest and
southwest, which, after an interval of twelve seconds, were succeeded by loud
claps of thunder. The lower parts of the clouds, which were undulated and
checkered, exhibited a red light which was very vivid. At one moment, houses
placed in front of that which he inhabited had the appearance which would
have been produced by viewing them through a deep-blue glass ; at that time,
on looking at the clouds, they appeared to emit a blue light.
Beccaria states that the clouds over his observatory at Turin frequently dif-
fused in all directions a strong reddish light, which was sometimes so
intense as to enable him to read a page printed in ordinary type. This
nocturnal light was especially observed in winter, between successive snow-
showers.
The selfsame luminous quality has been observed in fogs. The dry fog of
1783 was described by M. Verdueil, a physician of Lausanne, as having dif-
fused at night a light sufficiently strong to render distant objects visible, and
j iusea
517
this light was equally spread in all directions. It resembled the light of the
moon seen through clouds.
De Luc states that, returning home to his lodgings in the neighborhood of
London, on a winter night, when the atmospherewas clear, and not cold, he
saw a band of clouds intersecting the southern meridian, about thirty or forty
degrees from the zenith, and extending on either side nearly to the eastern and
( western horizons. The brightness of this cloud resembled that of a thin cloutj
I concealing the moon, and was sufficient to render the stars in its neighborhood
( invisible.
Dr. Robinson, professor of Astronomy at Armagh, states, in a letter to M.
Arago, that, during the voyage of Major Sabine in Scotland, undertaken to ob-
serve the lines of equal magnetic intensity, that officer, being at anchor in
Lough Scarig, in the Isle of Sky, observed a cloud which constantly enveloped
the summit of one of the naked and lofty mountains which surround that island.
This cloud, which resulted from the precipitation of the vapor brought by the
constant west winds from the Atlantic, was self-luminous at night, not occa-
sionally, but permanently. Major Sabine saw frequently issue from it jets of
light resembling those of the aurora. He rejects, however, the supposition that
these jets were produced by real auroras .near the horizon, and which were
concealed from direct observation by the mountain. He regarded all these
phenomena of continued and intermitting light as originating in some physical
property of the cloud itself.
OF THUNDER.
Thunder, as every one knows, is a certain noise, proceeding apparently from
the clouds, which usually follows, after a greater or less interval, the appear-
ance of a flash of lightning. Of all natural phenomena, those which occupy
the meteorologist present the greatest difficulties, when it is necessary to con-
vey a precise notion of them to those who may not immediately have witnessed
them. It is, doubtless, to this difficulty that we must ascribe the practice of
meteorological writers of resorting to similes and other like illustrations in their
descriptions.
Thunder is described by some as a sound resembling the acute noise pro-
duced when stiff paper is torn, or when a strong silk cloth is suddenly torn, or
\vhen a heavy wagon is rolled rapidly over a rough, stony road. It is imitated
with much effect in theatres by shaking a piece of sheet-iron about four feet
long and two feet broad. This is held in the hand at one of its corners, and
the varieties of thunder may be imitated by skilfully varying the movement of
the hand.
Thunder is sometimes heard as a clear, single, distinct sound, like the report
of a gun, unattended by any reverberation. More frequently the sound is deep,
or, in a musical sense, grave, and consists, not of a single sound, but of that
rapid succession of sounds, first increasing and afterward diminishing in inten-
sity, which has been expressed by the term rolling.
The difficulty of expressing and recording in words the exact nature of such
phenomena has limited to a small number the observations on which any safe
reasoning can be based.
The duration of the rolling of thunder was observed and recorded by De
L'Isle, in Paris, in the year 1712. On one occasion it was observed to endure J
for forty-five seconds. On other occasions, during the same storm (17th June),
the roll continued from thirty-four to forty -one seconds. On the 3d, 8th, and
28th of July, the roll continued on different occasions from thirty-five to thirty-
nine seconds.
r
{ 518
THUNDER-STORMS.
) De L'Isle also observed the varying intensity of the sound in each roll. In
i some cases the clap is loudest at the commencement, and afterward declines
) gradually until it ceases to be heard. Sometimes it commences with a low and
barely audible sound, which augments in force until it attains a maximum loud-
ness, after which it diminishes gradually in intensity until it becomes inaudible.
These changes were carefully observed and recorded on several occasions by
De L'Isle. The following examples will serve to illustrate the phenom-
enon : —
1712 Seconds.
17th of June, 0 Lightning flashed.
3 Thunder feebly audible.
12 Thunder loudest.
19 Thunder became gradually inaudible.
21st of July, 0 Lightning flashed.
16 Thunder feebly heard.
20 Thunder loudest.
32 Thunder became gradually inaudible.
8th of July, 0 Lightning flashed.
11 Thunder feebly heard.
12 Thunder loudest.
38 Loudest thunder began to decrease in force.
47 Thunder became gradually inaudible.
8th of July, 0 Lightning flashed.
11 Thunder feebly heard.
12 Thunder became loudest.
38 Thunder began to decrease in loudness.
47 Thunder became gradually inaudible.
8th of July, 0 Lightning flashed.
10 Thunder feebly heard.
13 Thunder became loud.
20 Thunder broke with redoubled force.
35 Thunder began to lose its force.
39 Thunder became gradually inaudible.
It appears from these observations that the durations of the loudest part of
each roll varied from twenty, to thirty seconds.
The degree of loudness is also very various. On the 2d of March, 1769,
the tower of the church at Buckland Brewer was struck by lightning, followed
by a clap of thunder described by an ear-witness as equal to the simultaneous
report of one hundred pieces of cannon.
The most violent thunder sometimes follows ball-lightning. When the ship
Montague was struck, on the 4th of November, 1749, the captain (Chalmers)
declared that the sound produced by the explosion was equal to the simulta-
neous discharge of several hundred pieces of ordnance, but that it did not last
above half a second.
The interval of time which elapses between the flash, of lightning and the
thunder which succeeds it is an important element in the theoretical investiga-
tion of the atmospheric conditions which produce these phenomena. It is es-
pecially useful to ascertain the major and minor limits of this interval. The
observations of this kind collected by M. Arago are arranged in the following
table : —
THUNDER-STORMS.
5i;
Places.
Time.
Observer. j Interval*.
Kncnnd*.
Peters burgh.
2d May, 1712
De L'Isle.
42
—
—
—
48
—
—
—
48
—
6th June, 1712
—
47
—
—
—
48
—
—
—
48
—
—
—
49
—
30th April, 1712
72
Tobolsk.
2d July, 1761
—
42
—
—
—
45
—
—
47
—
10th July, 1761
—
46
—
—
—
2
—
—
De L'Isle.
3
—
—
—
4
—
—
—
5
M. Arago states, as the general impression on his memory, that he has often
observed the thunder follow the flash after an interval so brief as half a second.
In the early part of June, 1841, being in the reading-room of the Alfie-
iianm at Philadelphia, I witnessed a vivid flash of lightning which was suc-
ceeded by the loudest clap of thunder I ever recollect to have heard. The in-
terval was, by my estimation, a very small fraction of a second. An ordinary
observer would have said that the flash and the sound were simultaneous
The occurrence of thunder not preceded by lightning has not been proved
by evidence as clear and satisfactory as that by which the existence of silent
lightnings have been established. No example is found of it in any of the me-
teorological registers kept at observatories in Europe. Tkibanlt de Chanvalun,
already quoted, mentions in the register of his observations made at Martinique,
that in October, 1751, there were two days on which thunder was heard with-
out the appearance of lightning ; and that on one day in November there were
three loud claps of thunder without lightning.
On the 19th of March, the vessel in which Bruce the traveller had embarked
on the Red sea, near Cosseir encountered a clap of thunder so violent as to
strike the seamen with terror. There was no lightning.
The occurrence of thunder when the firmament is cloudless has been doubted.
SENKBIER speaks of thunder on clear days as a known fact, but does not state
whether such was the result of his own observations. VOLXEY states, that on
the 12th of July, 1788, at six o'clock in the morning, the sky being unclouded,
he heard at Pont Chartrain, a place four leagues from Versailles, four or five
claps of thunder. At a quarter past seven clouds began to rise in the south-
west, and in some minutes the heavens were covered. Soon afterward hail-
stones fell as large as a man's fist.
The noise which often attends earthquakes is similar to thunder, and by an
acoustic deception not yet clearly explained, it is heard as if it proceeded irom
the upper regions of the air. Observations, therefore, of supposed thunder
with a clear sky, in places subject to earthquakes, cannot safely be received as
evidence of real thunder.
THE ATTEMPTS TO EXPLAIN THE PHENOMENA OF THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.
Although the investigations of Franklin removed all doubts respecting the £
identity of lightning and artificial electricity, still, in the great variety of atmo- <
spheric phenomena developed in the disturbances of electrical equilibrium which (
are produced on so grand a scale in the vast regions of the air, much remained /
520 THUNDER-STORMS.
! and still remains unexplained. Succeeding philosophers have accomplished
' little more than exhibiting, by direct experiments, and by the comparison oi
numerous observations, analogies which throw more or less light on the rela-
tions between the appearances which are exhibited in the atmosphere and
those general laws which have been deduced from experiments made on arti-
ficial electricity.
The luminous appearances which attend the electrical discharges in the at-
mosphere, and which characterize the different kinds of lightning, must be re-
garded as explicable on the same principles as those of artificial electricity ; and
the various hypotheses and conjectures, more or less plausible, which have
been proposed to account for the one must equally be brought to bear on the
other.
To regard the principle which darts through space with the enormous ve-
locity which the observations of Professor Wheatstone have shown lightning
to be endowed with, as ponderable matter, is extremely difficult. If it be pon-
derable matter it must follow the path of projectiles, and, consequently, its course
must be curved with a concavity turned toward the earth, except when it fol-
lows the vertical direction. In the zigzag path of cuspidated lightning there
is nothing analogous to this. On the other hand, such rapid and rectilinear
motions are quite consonant with the supposition of a system of undulations
propagated through a highly elastic medium, and are in all respects analogous
to the actual phenomena of light. The bi-cuspidated lightning finds its obvi-
ous type in the double refraction of crystallized media, and the heterogeneous
matter suspended in different strata of the air through which the lightning is
transmitted completes the parallel.
The undulatory hypothesis is, nevertheless, beset with its own difficulties.
How can the pulsations of an imponderable ether be reconciled with the me-
chanical effects of lightning ? The analogy to the phenomena of light fails
when it is considered that, notwithstanding its velocity of 200,000 miles per
second, light has never acquired in its motion, even when condensed by the
largest burning reflector, sufficient momentum to affect in any sensible degree
the lightest substance suspended in vacuo by a filament of spider's web, while,
on the contrary, the electric fluid, issuing from the clouds, splits rocks, over-
turns the most massive structures, destroys gigantic trees, and projects to a
distance enormous weights.
But of all the forms under which the results of electrical explosions in the
air present themselves, the most inexplicable is that of ball-lightning. Obser-
vation seems to countenance the supposition that these globes of fire are real
agglomerations of ponderable matter formed in the regions of the air by some
unexplained process. Where such formations are made ; whence proceed their
$ ponderable constituents ; what is their nature ; what sustains them in the air ;
/ and what causes finally precipitate them ; are questions before which science
\ is mute.
^ The constituents of the atmosphere are oxygen and azote, in the proportion
' of four parts by weight of the former to fourteen of the latter. If the electric
( spark be transmitted through a mixture of these two gases confined in a glass
^ tube, a portion of the oxygen will combine chemically with a portion of the
J azote, and nitric acid will be formed. What the electric spark does in such a
S mixture the transmission of the electric fluid accomplishes in the atmosphere,
( and nitric acid is formed, distinct traces of which are discoverable in the rain
which falls in thunder-storms. If, then, this power of determining the chemi-
cal combination of these constituents of the air be undeniable in this case, we
cannot reject the possibility of other combinations being effected by the same
agency. Besides oxygen and azote, the proper constituents of pure atrao-
THUNDER-STORMS.
52'
speric air, there are various foreign substances occasionally suspended in it, of
which the chief but not the only one is the vapor of water. Carbonic acid ex-
ists in it in variable quantity but it is nowhere totally absent. SAUSSURE
found it in air collected at the top of Mont Blanc. FUSINIERI states That he
constantly found sulphur, iron, and its different oxides, in fissures through
which lightning has forced its way.
If such analogies be considered to have any weight, it is not impossible to
imagine the constituents of solids to be suspended in the atmosphere in a
vaporous sublimated state, and to coalesce and enter into combination by the
transmission through them by a strong discharge of electricity. But as a* mat-
ter of fact is it proved that ponderable masses in a state of ignition have actu-
ally fallen from the clouds ? The following evidence is produced by M. Arago
on this question : —
Boyle states that in July, 1681, the British ship Albemarle was struck with \
lightning off' Cape Cod. A mass of burning bituminous matter fell in tho boat
suspended at the stern of the vessel, which diffused an odor like that of gun-
powder. It was consumed in the place where it fell, after ineffectual ef-
forts to extinguish it by water, or to throw it out of the boat with rods of
wood.
Silent lightnings, whether they appear in a clear or clouded sky, are usually
explained by the supposition that they are the reflection of lightnings which
issue from clouds below the horizon, and so distant that the thunder which
accompanies them cannot be heard. It has been, on the other hand, objected,
that the splendor of lightning is not sufficiently intense to cause a reflection so \
bright as the silent lightnings, and that a reflection inferior in brightness to light-
ning itself in the same proportion as twilight is to the brightness of the sun,
would not be visible. To this objection M. Arago replies by the following
facts : —
CASSINI and LACAILLE, when engaged in making a series of experiments on
the velocity of sound, in the year 1739, saw the light produced by the dis-
charge of a piece of ordnance placed at the base of the lighthouse of Cctle,
although at the station they occupied both the town and the lighthouse were
concealed by intervening hills.
la 1803 M. ZACH gave signals on the Brockcn (a mountain of the Harz
range), by exploding six or seven ounces of gunpowder. The light produced
by this was seen by observers stationed on Mount Kellenberg, at a distance of
nearly three leagues from the Brocken. Since a direct view would have been
rendered impossible by the convexity of the earth, the light must have been seen
by reflection.
The flashes of artillery discharged at the base of the Hold dts Invalided, at
Paris, are visible in the gardens of the Luxembourg, near the Rue d'Enfer,
although the highest point of the dome of the hotel is invisible from that place.
If, then, the feeble effect produced by the explosion of a few ounces of gun-
powder be sufficient to be so apparent by reflection, may it not be expected
that the more resplendent illumination produced by lightning would be infi-
nitely more vivid ?
That this mode of explaining silent lightning may not take the character of
mere conjecture, it will be necessary to show that distant lightnings are actually
visible when the thunder which accompanies them is inaudible. Two unex-
ceptionable observations are adduced for this purpose.
On the night between the 10th and llth of July, 1783, the weather being
calm and the sky unclouded, Saussure, stationed at theHospice of the Grimsel,
looking in the direction of Geneva, saw on the horizon some streaks of clouds
from which lightning issued, but no thunder was heard. It was afterward as-
522 THUNDER-STORMS.
cerfiined that at the moment this occurred a storm broke over Geneva the most
terrific that the people of that country ever witnessed.
On ihe 21st of July, 1813, Mr. LUKE HOWARD, observed at Tottenham, near
London, in a clear sky, lightning, such as is called heat-lightning, appear tow-
ard the southeast. It was afterward ascertained that a violent storm at tha
moment raged in France, which extended from Calms to Dunkirk. This light-
ning, above fifty leagues distant, was visible in the atmosphere of London.
It must then be admitted as proved, that silent lightnings may be and yo
tunes urr produced by the reflection in the atmosphere of lightning of which the
thunder is too distant to be heard. But it does not therefore follow that sucl
appearances must be and always are produced by that cause. On the contrary
heat-lightnings frequently present appearances, to explain which it would be
almost impossible to admit the hypothesis of distant storms. Thus it frequently
happens that when the whole visible firmament is unclouded, these lightnings
will play for entire nights on every side of the horizon, and will extend even to
the zenith. If distant storms were admitted to explain such phenomena, i
would be necessary to suppose that portion of the atmosphere visible from a
single place clear and serene, yet surrounded on every side by a ring of clouds
throughout which storms rage. The improbability of such an hypothesis is
apparent.
M. Arago proposed for the decision of this question, the same expedien
which he suggested a few years ago, in his essay on comets, to determine
whether their tails were self-luminous, or derived their light from the sun.
There are certain crystals endowed with optical properties, in virtue of which,
objects viewed through them are seen under different appearances according
as those objects are self-luminous or illuminated by light derived from other
objects. He proposes that the silent lightnings shall be observed through such
crystals, and the question whether they be actual lightnings, unattended by
thunder, or only reflections of distant lightnings, be thus decided.
Thunder unaccompanied by lightning, is explained by M. Arago, by sup-
posing two strata of clouds at different heights, of which the superior stratum
is the seat of the thunder-storm, and of which the inferior stratum is sufficiently
dense to be impervious to the light which precedes the thunder. Nevertheless,
the density of the inferior cloud will not at all impede the transmission of sound
through it, and the thundej will consequently be heard while the lightning is
invisible.
The method of computing the distance of stormy clouds by observing the
interval which elapses between the flash and the thunder, is based upon the
assumption that the sound is produced in the cloud. It has been however main-
tained by some persons, that when the electric discharge takes place between
a cloud and the earth, the lightning issues from the earth to the cloud. Ac-
cording to the hypothesis of a single electric fluid, this would always be the
case when the cloud is negatively electrified. As a test of this, M. Arago pro-
poses to observe the interval between the appearance of the lightning and the
perception of the thunder under circumstances in which the distance of the
cloud is known by othrr means within a given limit. If the distance obtained
by computation from observing the interval between the light and the sound be
manifestly less than the known minor limit of the distance of the cloud, it must
then follow that the seat of the sound is not the cloud, but is some place in the
atmosphere less distant, which would necessarily be the case if the lightning
issued upward from the earth. This method of observation might be practised
in the neighborhood of any lofty tower or steeple, or near a hill, or by means
of a small balloon confined by a cord to a given height. If the cloud were ob-
served to be considerably above any such objects and yet the computed distance
of the seat of the sound considerably below them, the conclasion ju»t stated
would he justified.
From the observations which have been recorded of the lime between, the
flash and the thunder, it appears that although in one instance this interval
amounted to seventy-two seconds, it usually does not exceed forty-fi^lr
ouds. It follows, then, that the greatest distance from which the atmospheric
explosions which produce thunder are heard at about ten miles. If the single
Accorded observation of an interval of seventy-two seconds can be relied on,
it would follow that in that particular case thunder was heard at the distance
of fifteen miles.
Evidence still more direct and convincing can be adduced that beyond the
distance of eight or ten miles thunder is inaudible.
When the steeple of Lestwithiel in Cornwall was struck by lightning, on the
25th of January, 1757, and almost entirely destroyed, the thunder was terrihc ;
yet Smeaton the engineer, who was then within thirty miles of the place,
heard no thunder. Muschenbroeck states that thunder at the Hague is inaudi-
ble at Leyden and at Rotterdam, the distance of the former being ten and the
latter twelve miles. There are also examples of violent storms breaking over
Amsterdam which were inaudible at Leyden, the distance being about twenty
miles.
To deduce right conclusions from these facts it will be necessary to con-
sider the distances at which other sounds, generally much less intense than
thunder, are heard. Cannon discharged at Florence are heard at Leghorn,
a distance of fifty miles ; at Leghorn, are heard at Porto Ferraio, the suine
distance. The cannonade at the siege, was audible at Leghorn, a distance of
about ninety miles. It may be added that the great bell of St. Paul's cathe-
dral in London, is said to be audible at Windsor, a distance of about twenty-
four miles.
The conditions of the atmosphere, which affect the transmission of sound,
are imperfectly understood, and it is therefore the more necessary to accumulate
well-ascertained facts, to form a safe basis for general reasoning. It is generally
believed that sounds are heard more distinctly and at greater distances in win-
ter, especially in frost, than in summer. This popular impression has been
corroborated in the narrative of those who have made voyages to the polar re-
gions. Parry states that he frequently heard distinctly at the distance ot a
mile, men conversing in their ordinary voice. On the 1 1th of February, iti20,
he heard a man singing to himself (and therefore probably in rather a low
tone), at more than a mile distant.
Durham observes that new-fallen snow impedes the transmission ot sound,
and that fogs also deaden its force. This latter effect, however, is not inva-
riable. In a November fog, in 1812, Mr. Howard heard distinctly at live miles
from London, the noise of the carriages rolling over the streets.
Humboldt has proved that sounds are audible at greater distances by night
than by day ; and from the circumstances under which his observations were
made, it would appear that the silence of night could not be assumed as an ex-
planation of this. •
It seems to be established that an adverse wind is an impediment to the
transmission of sound ; but according to the observations of M. F. Delaroohe,
a favorable wind does not assist it.
Volney, at Pontchartrain, heard four or five claps of thunder. Looking care-
fully round him, he could see no clouds either in the heavens or near the earth.
Now since thunder has never been heard at a greater distance than tlitecn
miles, and since an object to be invisible at that distance with a well-defined
horizon must have an elevation less than about one hundred feet, it follows
24 THUNDER-STORMS.
either hat the tlmnder heard by Volney on that occasion was produced in the
elf ar atmosphere, or that it proceeded from a cloud not more than thirty-three
yards from the ground, at a distance of about fifteen miles from the observer.
It has been elsewhere stated that the explanation proposed and universally
received as accounting for the phenomena, is a sudden displacement of the air.
produced by the electrical discharges, in which lightning is evolved. Since
all sound must proceed from an agitation of the air, and since lightning and
electricity are identified, this explanation consists of little more than a state- (
merit of the facts. A more rigoro.us account, however, must be exacted from
those who would propound an adequate theory of thunder.
Some have explained the origin of thunder, by supposing that the electric
fluid, in passing with great velocity through the air, leaves behind it a vacuum ;
that the air rushing suddenly into this vacuum produces a detonation like that
which takes place in the common experiment in which a vacuum being pro-
duced under a bladder extended tigh'ly over the mouth of a receiver, the blad-
der is broken by the pressure of the external air. To make this explanation
valid, it would be necessary to show how the vacuum is produced, or that it is,
injact, produced, otherwise the explanation is reduced to a mere conjecture.
It is also explained by supposing that the electric fluid in passing through
the air, compresses successively the air lying before it, whence there results
a displacement of those masses of air which are contiguous, and consequently
a series of contractions and dilatations, which, extending to a distance, produce
long-continued reverberations.
M. Pouillet rejects these hypotheses as insufficient to explain the phe-
nomenon. He considers that if such were the cause of thunder, the passage
of a cannon-ball through the air ought to produce a like effect. M. Pouillet
maintains that when an electric discharge takes place between two bodies
charged with opposite electricities, the fluid does not actually pass from the one
body to the other, but that the effect is produced by a series of decompositions
and recompositions of the natural electricities of the molecules of the inter-
vening medium, precisely similar to that which takes place in a liquid solution
in which the poles of the Voltaic arrangement are immersed. He argues that
there must thence result vibrations more or less violent in the ponderable mat-
ter of that medium, which would be sufficient to explain the sound.
The rolling of thunder has by some been ascribed to the effect of echo. That
echo has in some cases a share in the production of the phenomena cannot be
doubted by any one who has ever witnessed an Alpine storm. A multitude of
causes affecting the loudness, the reverberation, and the continuity of the peals,
are quite apparent. The question is whether echo is the only cause of the
rolling thunder.
It has been shown that the duration of the thunder-roll amounts sometimes
to forty-five seconds. Whether the echoes of any sound ever have such dura-
tion, can only be determined by observation. The example of the often-re-
iterated echo at a certain island on the lake of Killarney, is known to all travel-
lers. Mr. Scoresby observed on a particular occasion its duration, and found
it about thirty seconds. The original sound is usually produced by the dis-
charge of a small piece of cannon.
It would seem that on the occasion of Mr. Scoresby's observations, a pistol
was used. It is argued by M. Arago, that if a cannon had been used, the du-
ration would have been much greater, and probably equal to the continuance
of the longest roll of thunder.
During the experiments made to determine the velocity of sound in June,
1822, MM. Humboldt, Bouvard, Gay-Lussac, and Emile de Laplace, heard
the echo of a cannon discharged near them during twenty-five seconds.
THUNDER-STORMS.
525
Mariners state that thunder heard at sea is marked by rolling as loni; con-
tinued as on land, although none of those causes which are generally supposed
to produce echoes, such as walls, rocks, wood, hills, or mountains, are present.
Unless the surface of the clouds reflects sounds, no means of producing an echo
can exist under such circumstances. Although it might seem that the clouds
would be as little capable of reflecting sound as the air itself, there appears to
be some reason to judge otherwise. Muschenbroeck states, as the result of
his own observations, that a cannon, which, being discharged when the heavens
are unclouded, produced only a single report, had its sounds several times re-
verberated when discharged in the same place under a clouded sky. in the
course of the experiments made in 1822, to determine the velocity of sound al-
ready referred to, the same observation was made.
In the posthumous works of Hooke, published in 1706, an explanation was
proposed for the rolling of thunder, which was more recently reproduced with
more full developments by Dr. Robinson in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, and
) which seems more adequate, and open to fewer objections, than any other hy-
^ pothesis yet suggested. The sound is supposed to be developed by the light-
; ning in passing through the air, and consequently separate sounds are pro- I
1 duced at every point through which the lightning passes. As the object of the /
hypothesis is to explain the rolling or succession of sounds, and not the sound ^
itself, it is immaterial what the manner of producing the sound may be.
Let us first suppose that the lightning were to move in a circle, of which the
observer is the centre. The velocity of the lightning is so extreme that, for
the purposes of this explanation, it may be assumed to be at the same moment
in every part of the circle. Explosions will, therefore, be produced simulta-
neously at every point in the circumference of the circle, and, as all these
) sounds have the same distance to traverse in coming to the observer, they will
) arrive at his ear at the same instant ; the effect would, therefore, be a single
\ sound, having a force due to the combined effects of all the sounds produced
; in the circumference of a circle. To apply this reasoning to the actual case
of thunder, let it be supposed that two small clouds oppositely electrified are
situated near each other, and at the same height in the zenith of the observer.
The clouds may be considered as placed in the surface of a sphere, in the cen-
tre of which the observer stands. If the electric discharge takes place between
the clouds, the thunder would be heard by the observer as a single clap, with-
out any roll or reverberation.
Let us next suppose the lightning to move in any line which is not part of a
circle or sphere, with the observer in the centre ; let its course be a straight
line, for example, such as A B, the observer being at O. From 0, suppose a
Fig. 3.
perpendicular, O L1, drawn to A B, and let two lines, 0 L2, the lergth of
which shall exceed O L1 by one hundred and ten feet, be inflected from O on
526
THUNDER-STORMS.
1 *^-^«-^l^
A B, one on each side of 0 L1 ; let other two lines, O L3, exceeding O L2
by one hundred and ten feet, be also inflected on A B, and in the same manner
let a series 'ot lines, such as 0 L2, O L3, O L4, be successively inflected on A
B, each line exceeding that which precedes it by one hundred and ten feet. If
we suppose sounds to be simultaneously produced at the points LJ, L2, L3,
thai v.hich is produced at L1 will be first heard by the observer. Since sound
iiK.'Vfs at the rate of eleven hundred feet per second, it will take the tenth of a
second to move through one hundred and ten feet ; therefore the two sounds
emitted at L2 will arrive together at the ear of the observer a tenth of a second
alter the sound at L1 has been heard. In the same manner, the two sounds
eimued at L3 will arrive after another ten-th of a second, and so on. Thus ev-
ery ten sounds of the series, though simultaneously produced, would take a
second in being heard, and would be recognised by the ear as a distinct, though
rapid succession of ten sounds.
If it be admitted, then, that the electric fluid, in passing through the air with
the great velocity it is proved to have by the experiments of Professor Wheat-
stone, produces sonorous vibrations of this kind in the air, the rolling of thun-
der vvourd be a necessary consequence.
According to this manner of viewing the phenomena, the thunder would be
loudest which proceeds from L1, the nearest point to the observer, and would
gradually be enfeebled for points more and more distant from L1. Therefore
the roll would always be loudest at the commencement, and would gradually
diminish in force until it becomes inaudible. This is not in accordance with
the actual phenomena.
But the preceding explanation proceeds on the supposition that the lightning;
moves continually in the same straight line. Let us see what the effects of a
zigzag course would be, such as that represented by the line A, B. Taking
Fig. 4.
the place of the observer, O, as a common centre, let a series of circular arcs
be drawn with radii increasing in magnitude each successive distance exceed-
ing the last by one hundred and ten feet. These arcs will intersect the zigzag
course of the lightning in several points more or less in number, according to
the position of the directions of the lightning, and the magnitude of the radius
of the circle. The first sound which will reach the observer will be that pro-
duced at the points where the least of the circles meets the lightning, and the
succeeding sounds will correspond to those emitted at the point of intersection
of the succeeding circles with the course of the lightning. It is easy to con-
ceive, that the mutual position of the zigzag lightning and the observer may be
such that the number of points of intersection of the circles with the lightning
may alternately augment and diminish in a manner corresponding to any sup-
posable variations in the intensity of the rolling of the thunder.
It is evident that, independently of the infinite varieties of sound capable of
being explained by this hypothesis applied to zigzag lightnings, the changes
are not le*,s various for lightning which preserves a single course, the same
THUNDER-STORMS. 527
flash, according to its direction with respect to the observer, being susceptible
of an infinite variety of sonorous effects.
An objection to this fascinating hypothesis occurs to me, which appears to
have escaped the attention of its advocates, and which, nevertheless, is entitled
to consideration. I have supposed, for the sake of illustration, in the prece-
ding developments that a succession of distinct sounds are emitted at points of
a space the difference of whose distance from the observer is one hundred and
ten feet, and therefore these sounds succeed each other at intervals of a tenth
of a second. Any other difference of distance would equally serre the purpo-
ses of illustration, the interval between the successive detonations being deter-
mined by it according to the known velocity of sound. But it does not appear
to me that there is anything in the physical effects to warrant the supposition
of a series of separate sounds emitted at points of space more or less distant
from each other. The electric fluid rushes through space, producing the sarru
efft-cl at every point. The analogy on which Dr. Robinson bases the expla- S
nation (to a file of soldiers, placed at certain distances asunder, who discharge /
their muskets at the same instant, but are, nevertheless, heard in succession) s
does not seem to be in accordance with the phenomena. The passage of the »
electric fluid through the air would be more aptly illustrated by a bow drawn \
over the string of a violin, or the current of air driven by the mouth through a )
wind instrument, or by a bellows through an organ-pipe. There would, ac- (
cording to such analogy, be one sustained sound, instead of a succession or se- )
ries of distinct sounds. It is true that, in the gravest note on aa organ, and eve*
in those produced on certain wind instruments (the trombone, for example), and
on the strings on the double base, the vibrations are distinguishable ; but these
vibrations do not seem to have any analogy to the series of sounds which form
the rolling of thunder.
If this hypothesis, nevertheless, be admitted to explain the rolling of thunder,
the duration of the rolling will become an important element in determining the
minor limit of the space through which the lightning passes. Supposing that
no line drawn from the observer to the course of the lightnirtg is perpendicular
to it, it will follow that one extremity of the course is nearer than any other
point of it to the observer, and the other extremity more remote. The difler-
ence between the distance of these extreme points would be the length of the
flash, if its direction was immediately toward or from the observer ; and if it
have any other direction, this difference will be less than the length of the
flash. The duration of the roll of the thunder being the time sound would take
to move over the difference between the greatest and the least distance, this
difference may be computed, and thence a minor limit of the length of the flash
^ may be obtained.
From the observations of De L'Isle, it appears that the rolling of thunder,
) observed by him in 17] 2, lasted in some instances forty-five seconds. Allow-
< ing eleven hundred feet for each second, this would amount to forty-nine thou-
) sand five hundred feet, or very near ten miles. The length of the flash must,
I therefore, have exceeded this distance.
I have, in these explanations, assumed that the loudest sound is that which
I proceeds from the nearest focus of sound to the observer. The loudness of a
S sound, however, depends partly on the temperature and hygrometric condition
J of the air at the place where the sound is developed. It might happen that ]
these conditions, varying in different parts of the air where the sounds are <
produced, would render more remote sounds sometimes louder than nearer
ones.
One of the circumstances in the natural exhibition of lightning, which seems
not so satisfactorily explicable as most of the others, is the frequent repetition
528 THUNDER-STORMS.
of the flashes from the same cloud, which often follow each other in rapid sue-
cession, contrary to what takes place in metallic conductors in which the elec-
trie equilibrium is restored in a single discharge, or nearly so. The most ob-
vious way of explaining this is by supposing that the vapor composing thunder
clouds being a much less perfect conductor than metal, and the cloud being
often of extensive magnitude, possibly measuring miles in length or breadth,
the equilibrium cannot be restored, except by successive discharges, accord- j
ing as the fluid dispersed over or through the cloud can collect at or near the )
striking point.
•'••^^•^^•^WS^--'.
THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES.
Definition cf the Equator and Poles — Northern and Southern Hemispheres. — Latitude of a Place. — ;
Parallel of Latitude. — Meridian of a Place. — Longitude of a Place. — Standard Meridian. — Mcth- •
ods of determining Latitude and Longitude various. — To find the Latitude. — Methods applicable ^
in Observatories. — At Sea. — Hadley's Sextant — To determine the Longitude. — How to find the *
Time of Day at Land. — At Sea. — Use of Chronometers. — Lunar Method of finding the Longi- /
tude — Apparatus provided at Greenwich tor giving the exact Time to Ships leaving the Port of C
London. — Method of determining Longitude by Moon-Culminating Stars.
THK L,VT!THjr.« AM) U>SU!TI UK*.
TltE LATITUDES ANT) LONGITUDES.
BEFORE it is possible to acquire a distinct knowledge of the position or dis-
tances of any bodies in the universe outside the surface of the earth, it is first
indispensable that we, who have to make these calculations, should distinctly
ascertain our own position in refer3nce to the bodies we observe. But as our
position is subject to continual change, as well by reason of the diurnal rota-
tion of the earth upon its axis, o.i the surface of which we are carried round,
us the annual motion of the globe in its orbit round the sun, we are obliged as
a necessary preliminary to analyze with accuracy all the circumstances of
these motions. But even befoi 3 we are in a condition to accomplish this,
there is another prelimir ary e.cp not less indispensable, which is to ascertain
our own position on the surface of the globe we inhabit.
This is not so easy a mat er as at the first view it might seem to be. The
earth we dwell on is a ^..o; i of stupendous magnitude. The range of our
vision around any sitratic.i vhich we may occupy upon the surface of this
globe is small. In the rrcc-. unobstructed situation we can obtain — that which
is presented us at sea, when out of sight of land, on the clearest day — our ob-
servation is circumscribed by a radius of a few miles. The portion of the
surface which we see at one and the same time, forms in reality so small a
patch of the globe of the earth, that it is only by indirect reasoning that we can
recognise upon it any character save that of a flat plane. How, then, are we
to know in what part of the terrestrial globe that small patch of surface is
situated ?
To answer this question, it is evidently necessary first to settle some fixed
points or lines to which we may refer various places, and by which we may
express their positions. The points which have been usually selected for this
purpose are the poles and the equator. The poles are those points on the sur-
face of the earth where the axis on which it performs its diurnal rotation ter-
minates, and they are distinguished as is well known by the names of the north
and scuth poles.
'
532
THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES.
"\
If we imagine a circle surrounding the surface of the globe in such a man-
ner as to divide it into two hemispheres, having in the midst of one the north
pule, and in the midst of the other the south pole, such a circle is called the
cq/iutiir, and is so called from equally dividing the globe. Every point in this
circle will be at the same distance from the poles, and if we imagine the globe to
!>e cut by a plane through the poles, that plane will be at right angles to this
circle, and the section it forms will be what is called a terrestrial meridian.
The arc of this meridian between either pole and the equator will be one quar-
ter of its entire circumference, and will therefore be 90°. The equator is,
therefore, everywhere 90° from each of the poles.
The hemispheres into which the equator divides the earth are called the
northern and southern hemispheres. That which includes the north pole, being
the northern, and that which includes the south pole, the southern.
The position of a place in either hemisphere with reference to the equator
is expressed by stating the number of degrees of a terrestrial meridian included
between the place and the equator. This is called the latitude of the place;
which is the distance of the place from the equator expressed in degrees of
the meridian. Thus, if a place be midway between the pole and the equator,
its latitude is 45°. If it be distant from the equator by two thirds of the entire
distance from the equator to the pole, its latitude will be 60° and so on.
The latitude is said to be northern and southern, according as the place is
in the northern or southern hemisphere.
But it is evident that the latitude alone will be insufficient for the determina-
tion of the position of a place. If we state that a certain place is 45° north
of the equator, it will be impossible to ascertain certainly the place in question,
inasmuch as there is a circle of points on the earth, all of which are 45° north
of the equator. If we suppose a line drawn on the surface of the r.orthern
hemisphere parallel to the equator, at the distance from the equator of 45°,
every point of such line or circle will be equally characterized by the latitude
of 45 3 north.
Such a circle is called a parallel of latitude, and it is therefore apparent that
wherever such a parallel may be drawn upon the earth, all the places upon it
will have the same latitude.
The latitude is, then, insufficient to determine the position of any place.
How, then, it may be asked, can the exact position of any place be expres-
sed 1
Let us suppose that a meridian is arbitrarily selected, passing through some
particular place, such as the Capitol at Washington. We may conceive an-
other meridian drawn upon the earth east or west of that, so that the two me-
ridians shall include between them an arc of the equator, consisting of a defi-
nite number of degrees ; say, for example, that it shall consist of 20° ; then
such a meridian will be defined by stating that it is 20° east or west of the
menuim of Washington. All that can be settled by such a statement is the
position of the meridian in which the place lies with reference to the arbitrarily
chosen meridian of Washington. This relative position of the two meridians
is called the longitude of the place. As the meridian from which the longitude
is measured is altogether arbitrary, there being no physical or geographical
reason why one meridian should be chosen rather than another, each nation
has naturally selected as the zero of longitude the meridian of some noted
place in its precincts. In England, the Royal Observatory at Greenwich h-;.s
been the place selected, and accordingly in all English works on geography,
political and physical, longitudes are invariably expressed in reference to the
meridian of Greenwich. It will, therefore, be most convenient for us here
chiefly to refer to that meridian.
THE LATITUDES AND LONG ITU 1;
When these explanations are clearly understood, we shall 1* in a condition.
distinctly and definitely, to express the position of a place upmi the Mirl:
the globe of the earth. If we state its latitude and its longip,: „ f,x
at once, and unequivocally, the position of a place. Thus, let us snppus- t!r,,t its
, latitude is 50° north, its longitude 30° east of Greenwich; its position will l,e
; found by imagining aline parallel to the equator drawn upon the m.rthern hem-
} isphere at. a distance of 50° from the equator; then, supposing a meridian
) drawn through Greenwich, intersecting this parallel, and anothe/drawn so as
* to cross the equator at a point 30° east of the former; the place in i;n
S will be upon the line parallel to tho equator first drawn, inasmuch :,s it will be
I 50° north of the equator, arid it will be aleo in the meridian last drawn, inas-
much as it will be 30° east of Greenwich. Since, then, it will be :u the same
/ lime in both these lines, it will necessarily be at the point when? thev
, each other at the' east of the standard meridian of Greenwich.
^ Thus, then, we have succeeded at least in establishing standards of position
) and a nomenclature by which the exact position of a place on the surf;.
I the glebe can be expressed. But we have still another much more important
and difficult question to settle. How are we to discover in what part of the
globe any place is which we may occupy at a given time ; in other words, how
are we to discover its latitude and its longitude? These are question
• pecially the latter, attended with some difficulty, and which have
solved by different methods, applicable in different cases, according to the cir-
cumstances under which the position of the place is sought, and the pnrp<>M.
for which such position is to be determined.
At any place on land where the geographical position is once determined,
it may be recorded, so as to be permanently known for the future without a
repetition of the process for determining it ; but it is otherwise at sea. ( )n the
trackless surface of the deep all marks of events and operations are immedi-
ately obliterated, and a new investigation must be instituted in every case when
the position of any pcint is to be determined. The mariner must, therefore,
be supplied not only with the means of determining the position of his ship at
all times, but with means the application of which is practicable under the
( peculiar circumstances in which he is placed. The instruments he uses
) must not only be portable, but must be such as may admit of being manipulated,
) subject to the disturbances and the vicissitudes of the sea. The object of his
observations must be such as are almost always in his view. It is evident,
then, that, the problem, as applicable on land, is wholly different in its Cir-
cumstances and conditions from that which is applied on the deep. Uut even
on land the problem presents itself under various circumstances and conditions.
? In the fixed observatory, where the philosopher is supplied with instruments
( of the greatest magnitude, of the most refined accuracy, and the m.)>t absolute ^
•; stability, methods have been used which are susceptible of the last conceiv- (
\ able degree of accuracy, and accordingly the position of those points un the £
globe where such observatories have been erected, are usually determined with
the greatest degree of precision. Such points on tho globe serve, therefore,
as a sort of geographical landmarks, relative to which the position of all sur-
rounding places may be determined.
The circumstances under which the scientific traveller and geographer makes
his observations, with a view to the general determination of the points of a
country, are less favorable to accuracy than those available to the astronomer,
but still are more susceptible of precision than those which can be pi a-.-d at
the disposal of the mariner. It is, however, the business and the duty of those
who devote their lives to the advancement of the sciences, to supply to each •
of observers those instruments and methods of inquiry which are capable, respeyt-
THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES,
ively of giving results which, in the circumstances of the case, have the gieat-
est attainable accuracy.
TO FIND THE LATITUDE.
Let us suppose the globe of the earth to be represented at O, and let N be its
north pole, and E its equator ; let P be a place upon it, whose latitude, that is,
whose distance from the equator is to be determined. Let n Z e. represent the
firmament surrounding the globe at an indefinite distance. The point n, imme-
diately over the north pole, and which is in fact, the continuation of the line 0
N will be the place of the north pole in the heavens, very near to which is a
star, called the Polar star. The point e, in the continuation of the line O E,
will be that which is directly over the equator and will be that point in the
heavens, representing the position of the equator and the point Z, in v'ie
continuation of the line O P, the point of the heavens which is directly
over the observer at the place P, will be that which is called his zenith. This
point is that to which a plumb line would direct itself.
Now the points n, Z, and e, are the points in the firmament which correspond
with the points N, P, and E, upon the earth, and it is evident that whatever
arcs of the terrestrial meridian N P E are included between these points,
similar arcs of the celestial meridian must be included between the points n
Z e. If, then, P E were 40°, Z e must also be 40°, just as n e is 90°, while
N E is also 9(P.
In short, the zenith of any place in the heavens is the point in the firmament
which corresponds with the position of the place on the g.obe, and the distance of
THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES.
>
the zenith in the heavens of one place, from the zenith of another must necessarily
be the same in degrees as the distance between two places on earth. Thog n is
the zenith of P ; e is the zenith of E ; n is the same number of degrees from «
as P is from E. This being clearly understood, it is evident tliat if we can, by
any means ascertain by observations, the distance from Z to n, we can infer at
once the distance from P to N, and hence, can. discover the distance from
P to E, or the latitude of the place.
It is apparent, then, if we can observe the distance of the zenith of any
place from the celestial pole, that will give us the distance in degrees of the place
itself from the terrestrial pole, and by subtracting that from 9(P, we shall obtain
the distance of the place itself from the equator, or what is the same, its latitude.
As an example of this, l£t us suppose that in measuring the distance from Z to
n we find it to be 50° ; "we infer, therefore, that since the distance of the zenith
from the pole is 50°, the distance of the place from the terrestrial pole is also 50°.
But since the terrestrial pole is 90 D from the equator, it follows that the dis-
tance of the place from the equator must be 40°, and it is north or south, ac-
cording as the zenith of the place is in the northern or southern hemisphere of
the firmament.
Thus, then, it appears that the latitude of a place can always be found, provided
we can measure the distance of its zenith from the celestial pole ; and this, of
course, can always be done by the use of proper instruments, provided that the
zenith and the pole can be distinctly seen. Now the direction of the zenith
can always be determined by the plumb line ; but although the pole star is very
near the pole, it is not exactly at it ; there is, in fact, no star exactly at the
pole, and there being no visible object there, it is impossible to measure direct-
ly its distance from the zenith. This difficulty is eluded by measuring the
distance of the zenith from some star, or other celestial object, whose distance
from the pole happens to be known : for example, suppose that there were a
star directly between the zenith and pole, whose distance from the pole was
known to be 10°. Then if we find by observing the distance of the zenith
from this star was 40°, we should immediately infer the distance of the zenith
frum the pole to be 50°. *
It is ia;-fact, then, by this device that the latitude is always ascertained. By
various observations made by astronomers, the positions of most of the stars
and other celestial objects, with respect to the poles, are known and recorded ;
and when we desire to determine the latitude of any place, we measure the
distance of the zenith of that place from some celestial object whose position
with respect to the pole is known, and thence infer the position of the
place with respect to the terrestrial pole ; and from that deduce at once the
latitude.
But our purpose would be equally served if we were supplied with the po-
sition of any visible object with reference to the celestial equator. Thus, if
we know the distance of the centre of the sun from the celestial equator, we
shall readily be able to find the latitude ; for it would only be necessary when
the sun is in, or very near the meridian, that is, at or near noon, to measure
the distance of the zenith of the place from the centre of the sun. This
would be done by measuring the distance of the zenith, first from the upper,
and then from the lower limb of the sun. The distance from the centre would
( be the mean between these.
Let us suppose, for example, that the sun being between the zenith of the
\ equator, we find that the distance from the zenith to the centre of the
) sun is 20°, and that we also ascertain from the table of the position of the
sun, that the distance of the centre of the sun at that time from the equa-
tor, is also 20°, we should infer at once that the distance of the zenith
536
from the equator must be 40°, and that such, therefore, must be the latitude
of the place.
This method of ascertaining the latitude is, perhaps, the most easily practi-
cable. The observations may be performed daily, at noon, when the sun is
visible : and in all almanacs, the distance of the centre of the sun from the
equator, which is called the sun's declination, is registered. The instrument by
which the observations are executed on land are, usually, a quadrant furnished
with a telescope moving upon its centre. One radius of the quadrant is placed
in the direction of the plumb line, and therefore points to the zenith. The
telescope moves round the centre until it is directed to the object whose
distance from the zenith is to be observed. The angle between the telescope
and the vertical radius of the quadrant will then be the same as the distance
of the object from the zenith.
In astronomical observatories methods of observation have been applied sus-
ceptible of much greater accuracy. Stars upon the meridian can thereby be used
with great advantage. The distance of these stars from the pole are accurate-
ly known, and the astronomer selects for his observation those conspicuous
stars which pass very near to his zenith. He observes the arc of the celes-
tial meridian between his zenith and these stars. And from the magnitude of the
arc and the distance of the star of the celestial pole, he discovers the dis-
tance of the zenith from the pole and thence the latitude.
The principal source of accuracy in this method is, that the distance be-
tween the zenith and the star being very small, is capable of more exact meas-
urement, for reasons connected with the structure of the astronomical instru-
ment, than could be attained .in the measurement of greater angles.
In observations made at sea, it is not practicable, however, to use the plumb
line, and indeed, even for the purposes of geographers it is not always con-
venient. An admirable instrument has been invented equally applicable to
observations by land or by water, called Hadley's sextant, by means of which
the observations can be made with reference to the horizon, independent of the
zenith, and therefore independent of the plumb line.
It is not our purpose here to enter into a description of the principles and
structure of this celebrated and most useful instrument. It will be sufficient
for the present purpose to state that it is capable of being applied to the meas-
urement of the angular distances between any two visible objects with a very
great degree of precision, and that it may be used with facility, even when
the position of the observer is subject to all the unsteadiness incidental to the
condition of the mariner.
When this instrument is used, instead of observing the distance of any ob-
ject from the zenith, we observe its distance from the horizon, which will an-
swer the same purpose, inasmuch as that whenever the distance of an object
from the horizon is known, its distance from the zenith can be found, since the
distance from the zenith to the horizon being 90°, if we subtract the distance
of the object from that, the remainder will be the distance of the object fro'n
the zenith.
At sea we have generally, indeed almost always, a well-defined horizon.
If the mariner desires to measure the altitude of an object, he has only io
measure the distance of the object from the horizon in a direction perpendicular
to it, and this he is enabled to do with a little practice, with admirable facility
and precision, with Hadley's sextant.
Let us see, then, how the mariner is thus enabled daily to determine the lati-
tude of hi.s ship.
i As noon approaches, the sky being sufficiently clear to render the disk of
J the sun visible, he applies the instrument and measures the altitude of the
THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES. 53?
lower and upper limbs of the sun from the verge of the horizon. The mean
of these will be the altitude of the sun's centre. If this altitud.) be taken from
9(P, the remainder will be the distance of the sun's centre from the zenith.
He finds in his almanac the distance of the centre of the sun on that day from
the equator, and hence he at once, as already explained, obtains the distance
of his zenith from the equator ; that is, the latitude of the ship.
There are several minute circumstances observed in the practice of this prob-
lem, which do not affect its general spirit, and the introduction of which here
would be unsuitable to the object of these discourses ; we therefore omit
them.
Thus we see that, whether by sea or by land — whether in the observatory
of the astronomer, traversing the sands of the desert, or the forests of America,
or voyaging over the trackless and unimpressible surface of the oceau — we are
in every case by science supplied with suitable and practicable means by which
/ we can ascertain the distance of the place where we are, north or south, east
£ or west on the globe.
) • *
TO DETERMINE THE LONGITUDE.
In expiessing and determining the latitude of a place, we have fixed points
* and lines on the firmament to refer to — such as the celestial pole and equator ;
( and to find it, nothing more is necessary than to ascertain the position of
the zenith of the place with reference to these. But with respect to the
longitude, the case is very different ; it is impossible even to express the
longitude without involving a reference to two places at least — that of which
we wish to determine the longitude, and that which is selected as the starting
point Trom which all longitudes are to be measured. If we could observe in
the firmament the two points which at the same time form the zeniths df the '
two places, then the difference of their longitudes could be found by noting the
times at which these two points would cross the meridian of the place whose
I longitude is to be determined.
To comprehend fully the spirit of the celebrated problem of finding the lon-
gitude, we must imagine the globe of the earth turning on its axis, having around <
it the starry firmament. Let us suppose A B to be the northern hemisphere of !
the globe, p being the pole, and let F E represent the firmament. Let P 4>e a <
place whose zenith is the point on the firmament marked by Z. If we suppose
the globe to turn upon its axis in the direction of Q P N, P will, by its ro- i
tation, be carried to the right of Z, and the same point Z will become succes-
sively the zenith of the points R Q ; and, in fact, every point in the circumfer-
ence of the earth will successively come under the point Z, which will be,
therefore, in regular succession, their zenith points. In twenty-four hours, or,
more accurately, in twenty-three hours and fifty-six minute.s, the globe will
make its complete revolution ; therefore three hundred and sixty degrees of the
I earth will successively pass under the same point of the firmament.
< By knowing exactly the time of rotation of the earth, and having ascertained
\ that its diurnal motion is uniform, we can ascertain by simple arithmetic what
; extent of its surface will pass, in a given time, under any point of the firma-
| ment. Thus if we say in round numbers that the whole circumference corre-
: sponds to twenty-four hours, it will follow that fifteen degrees will move under
( the point Z each hour, or one degree in four minutes.
j If we suppose Z to represent the place of the sun, then it will be noon, or
) twelve o'clock, at the place which is immediately under Z ; that is, at P. If
I R be fifteen degrees west of P, then it will arrive under Z one hour aft
) consequently, when it is noon at P it is eleven o'clock at a place fifteen d<
538
: LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES.
) to the west of P ; and, for the same reason, it is ten o'clock at a place thir'y
? degrees to the west of P, and so on.
Again : if O be a place fifteen degrees to the east of P, O must have been
under Z an hour before P reached it. It will be noon, therefore, at O, an hour
before it is noon at P ; therefore, when it is noon at P it is one o'clock at 0.
In the same manner, and for like reasons, if N be a place thirty degrees east of
P, N will pass under Z two hours before P ; and therefore when P passes under
Z it will be two o'clock at N.
It will be apparent from these explanations, that, in general, the hour of the
day at different places upon the earth, at the same time, will depend upon their
relative position east or west of each other. If one place be east of another,
the hour at that, place will be later with respect to noon than the hour at the
other ; and the extent to which it is later will depend on the distance which
one place is east of the other. In calculating this difference of time from the
difference of position east or west, we may take fifteen degrees to correspond
with an hour, as already explained.
But this distance of one place east or west of another, expressed in degrees,
is, in fact, the difference of their longitudes ; and if one of the tv/o places in
question be that from which the longitudes are measured, the determination of
the longitude of a place would resolve itself into the discovery of the hour
of the day in the place whose longitude we, want to find, and also at the place
from which the longitudes are measured.
Thus, for example, let us suppose that we ascertain the hour of the day in
New York, and find that it is 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and that we have a
THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES. 539
^ """""
> means by which we can discover, at the same time, what the hour of the day
> is at Greenwich, and that by these means we know that it is 56 minutes past
j 6 o'clock. We know, then, that the time is 4 hours 5G minutes earlier at New
J York than at Greenwich, and consequently we infer that New York must be
west of Greenwich by a longitude which corresponds to 4 hours 56 minutes.
] Now 4 hours correspond to 60°, and 56 minutes correspond to 14° ; therefore
> it follows, that the longitude of New York must be 74° west of Greenwich,
j We can, then, always discover the longitude of any place, provided we can
ascertain, at any moment, the hour of the day at the place in question, and
I know, at the same time, what the hour of the day is in that place from which
; the longitude is measured.*
There are simple methods of observation and calculation by which the
> hour of the day in the place where we are can be determined, with more or
less accuracy, according to the circumstances of our position. If we are on
land, and supplied with a proper transit instrument, we can, by its means, ob-
serve the moment at which the centre of the sun's disk passes the meridian.
Thus, as the moment of noon arrives, by observing it, we can set a good clock,
which will inform us of every other hour of the day. But even in the absence
of a clock we can determine the hour of the day at any moment at which the
sun is visible, by observing its altitude, having previously ascertained the lati-
tude of the place at which we are.
If we are at sea, where we cannot command a transit instrument, nor use it if
\ve could, the latitude of the place of the ship is first determined, and then the-
hour is found by observing the altitude of the sun at any convenient time in the
afternoon or forenoon. The hour being once found, the time can be kept by a
chronometer for any number of hours afterward. Thus it appears, under all cir-
) cumstances, whether by sea or by land, there is no practical difficulty in de-
termining what o'clock it is where we are. This at once reduces the problem (
of the longitude to the simple discovery of the hour of the day, at any given *
time, at the place from which the longitudes are reckoned.
The first and most obvious method of accomplishing this which would occur j
to the mind, would be to carry a good chronometer from the place from <
\\hich the longitude is reckoned. Supposing this chronometer subject to no {.
error, it will continue to inform you of the hour of the day at that place. Thus, i
suppose that on leaving London the mariner takes with him a chronometer set |
according to the time at Greenwich, and with it makes his voyage to New <
York ; the chronometer will continue to inform him what the time is from hour *
to hour at Greenwich. When he arrives at New York, he will find that when
the chronometer points to 12 o'clock, or noon, it will be early in the morning;
and if he ascertains the hour exactly, he will find that it will be 4 minutes after
7 o'clock. He will therefore know that the time at New York is 4 hours 56
minutes earlier than at Greenwich, and, consequently, that New York must be
74° west of Greenwich. It is for these reasons that the perfection of chro-
nometers has always been considered so essential to the progress of navigation.
Every ship that makes a long voyage ought to be supplied with one, at least, of
these instruments ; but as they are liable to accident, and as even the best of
them cannot be rendered perfect, it is usual with ships that are well provided
for long voyages to carry.more than one chronometer.
Although the art of constructing time-keepers has been brought to a high de- 5
gree of perfection by the skill of modern artisans, these instruments are even yet,
'l and probably will ever continue to be, too imperfect to be implicitly and exclu-
* There are several corrections to be attended to in the practical working of the methods of deter-
S mining latitude and longitude which I have purposely omitted, as they do not affect the ipint of
) the method, which is all I would here convey.
C-V.-X
540 THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES.
sively relied upon. If we only required their indications for short spaces of
time, such as a few days, or even weeks, we might perhaps place a secure re-
liance upon them ; especially if the voyager were provided with more than one
instrument of this kind. But in voyages or journeys which occupy mon.ns,
we cannot rely on the indications of these instruments, even when most liberally
provided and most perfectly constructed.
In the absence, then, of a chronometer, how, it will be asked, can the lon-
gitude of a place be ascertained at all. The first method that will occur to the
min 1, will be that of some conspicuous signal which can be seen at the same
time at. the two places, whose difference of longitude is to be determined.
For this we require two observers ; but it is perhaps the method of all others, sus-
ceptible of the greatest accuracy. Let us suppose that on some elevated posi-
tion between two distant places, such as New York and Boston, a sudden
and conspicuous light is produced, such as the celebrated Drummond liijht.
which might be exhibited on the top of a high mountain so as to be visible a
great distance. Let this signal be exhibited at any required moment, so as to
render it suddenly visible at the two places. Let the observers at these places
note precisely the hour of the day or night at which the light is seen. By
comparing afterward, these times, their difference will at once give us the
difference of the longitude at the two places.
But this method is evidently applicable only on a limited scale, and under pe-
culiar circumstances ; it is altogether unavailable to the mariner. Now the
. astronomer supplies him with a chronometer of unerring precision ; a chro-
nometer which can never go down, nor fall into disrepair; a chro :•
which is exempt from the accidents of the deep ; which is undisturbed by the
siion of the vessel; which will at all times be present and available to him
wherever he may wander over the trackless and unexplored, regions of the
ocean. Such a chronometer has been found ; made by an Artisan who cannot
err, and into whose works imperfection can never enter. Such a chronometer
is supplied by the firmament itself. The unwearied labors of modern as
omers have converted the face of the heavens into a clock, and have :
the 'iiariner to read its complicated but infallible indications. We may ;•
for this purpose the firmament as the dial-plate. of a chronometer on an im-
mense scale. The constellations and the fixed stars upon it, which for count-
less ages are subject to no change in position, serve as the hour and minute-
marks. The sun, the moon, the planets, and the satellites, which move
continually over the surface of this splendid piece of mechanism, play.hr
of the hands of the clock. The positions of these bodies from day to d,.
from hour to hour, and every change of their positions, are accurately foreknown
and exactly registered in a book published some two or three years in advance.
the " Nautical Almanac,'' and circulated for the benefit of ti.arii!ers.
this work, the navigator is told what the hour is or will be at Greenwich for
variety of position which the sun, moon, and planets, shall have from time to time
upon the heavens. But of all objects in the heavens, that which is best suited
for this species of observation is the moon, and hence this method of deter-
mining the longitude at sea has been distinguished by the appellation ol
lunar method. By the use of Hadley's sextant, which we 1,
to, it is easy, whenever the Leavens are. clear, to obser.v the angular distance \
of the moon either from the sun or from the most conspicuous stnrs cr pi;
The motion of the moon in the firmament is so rapid that it:' c ;;•;:•£(. oi
tion is perceptible, even by such observations as can be mat <- IT, c^r.l a
from hour to hour.
How, then, it may be asked, can such observations be i>:
the discovery of the longitude of a ohip I Nothing can be more, oiiii!
THE LATITUDES AND LOXUTl
I
navigator requires only to know what is ihe hour at Creenwich at tin- tj.,,, |l(.
makes his observation. This he discovers in the following manner- IJ.
observes with the sextant the distance of the moon from the Snn, or from
some of the most conspicuous stars ; he then, after certain preliminary rai-
culations not necessary to detail here, examines in the Nautical Almafac
where he learns what the hour is at Greenwich, when it particular
distances from the sun or the stars. Knowing this, and knowing the hour
where he is, the difference of the longitude of a ship and the observatory at
Greenwich is known to him.
Although the moon be of all the celestial objects the best adapted for this
observation, it is not the only one which has been resorted to. It may be in a
position so near the sun that it cannot be conveniently observed ; in its ab-
sence, the navigator may resort to planets which may happen to be visible.
These may be used in the same manner and according to the same principles
as the moon, but they do not afford a result susceptible of the same accuracy,
inasmuch as their motions being slower, he cannot be so certain of their
positions.
The advantage which the lunar method of determining the longitude has for
the purpose of the mariner is, that it is always available, when the sky i* un-
clouded. There are. however, other methods which are applicable occasion-
ally, both by sea and by land, which ought not to be omitted here ; union j
these the most frequent, and consequently the most generally available, is tin;
eclipses of Jupiter's satellites. Whenever that planet is sufficiently removed
from the sun to be visible after night-fall, his moons may be seen with an <;ni;-
nary telescope ; indeed, they were discovered at so early a period in the pro-
gressive improvement of the telescope, that they must have been first observed
with a very inferior instrument of that kind. The periodic time of the first of
these satellites, or that which is nearest to Jupiter, being only about 42 hours,
and its position and motion being such that it cannot pass beliind Jupit&r with-
out going through his shadow, its eclipse must regularly recur every 42 hours.
The times of the eclipses at Greenwich are registered in the Nautical Alma-
nac, and if they are observed at a distant place, the time at which they occur
may be compared with the time at which they would be seen at Green-
wich, and the longitude of the place consequently known. In fact these eclip-
ses may be regarded as signals which can be seen at the same time from iho
two places ; the only difference between them and common signals being lhat
their occurrence can be certainly and accurately predicted. It is proper how-
ever to observe, that although this method is eminently useful to the geographical
traveller, it can scarcely be said to be available in navigation.
There are other celestial phenomena of occasional occurrence which may
also be used for determination of longitudes. Such are solar eclipses, but more
especially the occultation of stars by the dark edge of the moon. This latter
phenomena is one which admits of very great precision.
In connexion, with the subject of this discourse, it may not be uninterest-
ing or unprofitable to explain the expedient by which the British government
enable all navigators leaving the Thames to take with them the precise Green-
wich time, which, as we have shown, is necessary for the determination of the
longitude of the ship in the absence of the opportunity or ability of practising
the lunar method. For a great number of years, the establishment of an easy
and certain method of accomplishing this was regarded as an object of great
national importance by the English public. At length the object was accom-
plished by the expedient now in use, and which we are about to explain.
The Royal Observatory of England is built on the summit of an elevaied
rid^e that overhangs the town of Greenwich, on the right bank of the Thames.
542
THE LATITUDES AND LONGITUDES.
and forms a conspicuous object from the river. The towers of the observatorv
ar<; at all times visible from ships sailing down the river. It was, therefore,
decided that a signal should be given at the instant of one o'clock in the after-
noon of each day ; by observing which, navigators within view of the observa-
tory could correct their chronometers. The signal adopted for this purpose
was the sudden fall of a large black ball, placed upon a pole raised from the
top of one of the towers of the observatory.
Before elevating the ball, at five minutes before one o'clock, a signal is made
of the intention to do so by raising it half-mast high. Observers are then in-
structed to prepare their 'chronometers ; and as the descent of the ball occupies
several seconds, they should confine their attention to observing the moment
when the ball leaves the top, as it is that alone which indicates the hour.
The use of this signal is not merely confined to the indication of the mean
time at Greenwich for navigators going down the river. By observing the
drop of the ball, repeated day after day, mariners who are in the river will be
enabled to ascertain the daily rate of their chronometers. Thus, if a clock
were found to show the time of 3 min. 5 sec. after 1 o'clock at the moment of
dropping the ball one day, it will appear that the clock is 3 min. 5 sec. faster
than the mean Greenwich solar time. On the following day, if you again ob-
serve the descent of the ball, and find that the clock shows 3 min. 7 sec. after
1 o'clock, you find that it gains 2 seconds per day. Thus you are enabled, not
only to ascertain the actual error of the chronometer, but also predict the man-
ner in which that error will be augmented or diminished for the future.
In noticing the different methods which have been proposed for determining
the longitude, I ought not to omit one which has been recently resorted to with
considerable advantage, and which is called the method of determining the
longitude by moon-culminating stars. In the practice of this method a star is
chosen which culminates or passes the meridian nearly at the same time with
the moon, and which differs so little in declination with the moon, that it may
be seen at the same time in the field of view of the telescope. The transit of
the star and that of the moon's limb, is observed at both stations, and the differ-
ence of the time at the two stations noted. This difference being dependant
on the moon's change of position on the firmament, in passing from the meridian
of one station to the meridian of the other, will enable the observers to deter-
mine the time which the centre of the moon takes to pass from the one meridian
to the other, which will give the difference of the longitudes.
The spirit of this method is derived from the great accuracy of the knowl-
edge we have acquired of the moon's motions, and the precision with which
we can observe its transits over the meridians. In the practice of this method,
it is indispensable that the moon and star should differ so little in declination
that the position of the telescope will not require to be changed to observe
their respective transits. Although the method has been called that of moon-
culminating stars, the only reason why the moon and star should be required
to pass the meridian nearly together is, that the same errors may, as far as
possible, affect both transits, and if so no effect would be produced on the ulti-
mate result.
THEORY OF COLORS.
Refraction of a Ray of Light. — At plane Surfaces. — By a Prism. — The Prismatic S|w?ctruni. — The
Decomposition of Li^lit. — Newton's Discoveries. — Colors of the Spectrum. — Brewster'n Discovery
of three Colors — How three Colors can produce the Spectrum. — Colors of natural Bodie« — How
they are produced.
THEORY OF COLORS.
WHEN a ray of light meets the surface of a transparent medium, such as
water or glass, in a line perpendicular to that surface, it will pass through \
without changing its course ; but, if it meet the surface at any oblique angle, it
will be bent into another direction, which will depend on the direction of the
incident ray, and the relative densities of the media, between which the ray
passes. Generally, when it passes from a less dense into a more dense medi-
um, it is bent toward the perpendicular drawn to the surface of the medium at
the point of incidence of the ray. In this deflection it does not leave the
plane passing through the incident ray, and that perpendicular.
Fig. i.
To render this more clear, let c, fig. 1, be any visible object placed on the (
bottom of a vessel of water. Let c n be a ray of light passing from that ob- <
ject to the surface of the water, that ray after leaving the surface of the water
and passing into the air will not continue in the direction c n, but will take
35
546
THEORY OF COLORS.
another direction, n E, so that an eye placed at E would see the object in the
direction E n.
This deflection which a ray of light suffers in passing from one transparent
medium into another, having a different density, is called refraction.
REFRACTION AT PLANE SURFACES.
Let S S', fig. 2, represent the surface which separates two transparent media.
P 0 being less dense than P 0'. Let A P be a ray of light falling at P, and let
0 0' be perpendicular to S S'. After passing into the denser medium the r.iy
will follow the course P A', making with the perpendicular P 0, a less angle
than A P O.
Fig. 2.
If, on the other hand, the ray passed from A' to P, it would follow the course
P A in the less dense medium. This law of refraction is usually expressed
thus : when light passes from a rare into a dense medium, as from air to water,
or from water to glass, it is always deflected toward the perpendicular to the
reflecting surface, and when it passes from a denser medium into a rarer, as
from glass to water, or from water to air, it is bent from the perpendicular.
The extent of this deflection has been determined by a general law, which,
expressed in the language of geometry, is, that the sine of the angle of inci-
dence bears to the sine of the angle of refraction, a fixed ratio when the media
are given.
From this it follows that the deflection of light by refraction will always be
increased with the obliquity of the incident rays.
It is also found that the degree of refraction will be greater the greater the
difference of the density of the media is. Thus the refraction is greater when
a ray passes from air into glass than when it passes from air into water ; it is,
also, greater when it passes from glass into air than from glass into water.
In his celebrated optical investigations, Newton found that the solar beam
was composed of different kinds of light, which, besides differing in color, also
differ in refrangibility, that is to say, if they fall at the same angle on any re-
flecting surface, they will not pass in the same direction through it, but will
follow different directions, according to their different susceptibilities of being
refracted.
The kind of experiment by which this remarkable fact was ascertained is as
follows : —
Suppose a beam of light proceeding from the sun to enter a hole in a win-
dow-shutter and to fall obliquely on the surface of a triangular piece of glass,
THEORY OP COLORS.
54?
called a prism, at D. The parts of that ray in passing through tho prism will
diverge from each other, and falling upon the second surface of the prism at
?, will issue from it still more divergent. If the prism had not been murno*-
ed, a circle of light would be formed upon a white screen at E N, which would
correspond with the magnitude of the opening in the window-shutter. But
when the light is made to pass through the prism an oblong spectrum will be
formed on the screen, the breadth of which will correspond with E N, but
which will have considerable length. This spectrum will exhibit a series of
colors, the lowest of which will be red, and the highest violet. They will
succeed each other in the following order, proceeding upward : red, orange,
yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. These colors will not, however, have
distinct boundaries, but will pass gradually, by insensible tints, one into another,
so that it will be impossible to say exactly where the red ends and the orange
begins, and so of the others.
Fig. 3.
White.
This remarkable phenomenon was explained by Newton by showing that the
solar light was composed of a number of different kinds of light, which were
capable of being refracted in different degrees by the prism, those lights which
were least refrangible passing to the lower extremity, and those that were most
refrangible to the upper extremity of the spectrum. By inspecting the figure
it will be evident that the red light is less deflected from its straight course
than the orange ; the orange less than the yellow ; the yellow less than the
green, and so on. Newton, therefore, inferred that there were lights of seven
distinct kinds, having seven different degrees of refrangibility, and seven dif-
ferent colors.
This conclusion, however, has been subject to much modification by subse-
quent optical investigators.
It is found that rays of light of the same color differ slightly in refrangibility,
and the investigations of Brewster, and others, appear to justify the conclusion,
that the solar light, instead of consisting of seven elementary colors, ia only
composed of three.
At so early a period as the year 1775, it was suspected that the conclusion
of Newton, that the spectrum was divisible into seven different simple con-
stituent lights, was fallacious. Mayer maintained that there were but three
elementary colors, red, yellow, and blue, and at a later epoch, Dr. Young sug-
gested that all colors were compounded of red, green, and violet.
Let us, however, for a moment contemplate the actual result of the prismatic
experiment of Newton, and let us separate, carefully, that which is matter of
observation in it, from that which is, properly speaking, matter of hypothesis
or theory.
In passing through the prism, and being, thereby, submitted to a considerable
refracting action, a single beam of light is spread out into a fan of rays as rep-
THEORY OF COLORS.
resented in fig. 3. This fan-like form is produced by the fact that some of the
< rays which compose the beam are more strongly refracted by the prism than
others, and the divergence of the fan depends upon the difference between the
extent of the deflection of the most refrangible, and the least refrangible rays.
The angle of divergence of the fan has been called the dispersion of the origi-
nal beam by the prism.
When the rays, thus dispersed, in virtue of their different susceptibility of
refraction, are received upon a white screen, they exhibit a streak of surface
illuminated by a series of different tints of color, which, in their general char-
acter, are conformable to the distinction assigned to them by Newton ; but ac-
curate examination shows that there are no distinguishable boundaries between
the successive tints ; that throughout the limits of the red the degree of red-
ness varies, that it insensibly melts away into the beginning of the orange,
which, increasing to a point where its intensity is greatest, again gradually
melts away insensibly into the yellow, and so on, the successive colors and tints
of color fading imperceptibly into each other. Now there is nothing in these
circumstances to afford any rigid justification of the seven elementary colors
assigned by Newton, and when we consider, what is not disputed by Newton
himself, that the commingling or blending together of lights of different colors
will produce intermediate tints, it follows that there are an infinite variety of
ways in which the constituent colors of light might be imagined to be arranged
which would equally produce the phenomenon of the prismatic spectrum.
This problem has, accordingly, been taken up in our own times by Sir Da-
vid Brewster, with all the advantages which the increased knowledge and experi-
ence of the age, and improved methods of inquiry, could afford. He has shown,
by innumerable experiments on the transmission of light through colored me-
dia, and on artificial lights, produced by combustion, of various circumstances,
that the pure and elementary simple lights are one or other of the three
colors, red, yellow, and blue ; that the light of each of these colors, respect-
ively, is composed of constituent rays which are differently refrangible, so that
if a beam of any one of these lights were transmitted through a prism, an ob-
long spectrum would be produced, of one uniform color, corresponding to that
of the light itself. .Thus if we suppose a beam of red light transmitted through
a prism in the same manner as the original beam of white light, fig. 3, was
transmitted, then we should obtain an oblong spectrum, similar in form and
length to that which we originally obtained, but all of one tint. It would be
all red, although the redness would be greatest at one particular point, and
would decrease from that point toward each extremity, and gradually fade
away. These circumstances may be represented by the diagram, fig. 4.
Let L M represent the screen, and let L represent the lower and M the up-
per end of the spectrum ; let N be the point at which the redness is most in-
tense, it will gradually diminish from N to M and from N to L. Let us sup-
pose that we draw a curved line, L P' P P" M, so that the lines or distances
N P', N P, N P", &c., shall, respectively, represent the intensities of the
light at the several points N' N7', &c. Such a figure will exhibit, geomet-
rically, the gradation of tints from the point N, where the red is brightest, up-
ward and downward to the points where it fades away. It is found by ex-
periment that the point where it is brightest is near the lower extremity of the
spectrum.
In like manner, if a beam of pure yellow light be transmitted through the
prism, a similar yellow spectrum will be produced, which may be represented
in -I similar manner, the point of greatest brightness, however, being at a high-
er point in the spectrum, represented in figure 5, by similar letters.
Finally, let us suppose a beam of blue light transmitted through the prism in (
THEORY OF COLORS.
Fig. 4.
¥ig. ft
( like manner. Its point of maximum brilliancy will be still higher than that of
« yellow, as represented in fig. 6.
Fig. 6.
550
THEORY OF COLORS.
In the same manner, throughout the whole extent of the three uniform spec-
tra thus intermingled the tints of color will correspond to the intensities of the
spectra at the same point.
In this manner the succession of colors exhibited by the prismatic spectrum
is explained. The orange, for example, is only the intermixture of a consid-
erable quantity of red and yellow, qualified by a small quantity of blue. The
green, in the same manner, is a mixture of a considerable quantity of blue and
yellow, qualified by a very small quantity of red.
There is a certain proportion in which these three elementary colors may
be mixed together so as to produce white. If any one of them, the red, for
example, be in excess above this proportion, the other two observing it, the re-
sulting color will be a red diluted with white. If, on the other hand, there be
a deficiency of the proper proportion of red, the tint will be green diluted with
white, produced by the excess of blue and yellow.
In general, if we take the actual proportion in which these three elementary
Now, if we suppose a beam of white light, like the natural light of the sun,
which is composed of these three constituent elementary lights, to be transmit-
ted through the prism, we ought to expect these three spectra of the element-
ary colors, red, yellow, and blue, to be simultaneously produced, the maximum
of each being at the place already assigned to it. The combination of these is ]
represented in the diagram, fig. 7, and the tint of color at each point of the }
spectrum will be that which would result from the corresponding mixture of col-
ors. Thus at R N, where the red is most intense, a portion of blue, represent-
ed by N b, and of yellow, represented by N a, are mixed with it, and the re-
sulting tint will be that which will be produced by the mixture ; in like man-
ner at Y N, where the yellow is most intense, a portion of blue, represented
by N b' and a portion of yellow, represented by N a', will be mingled
with it.
Fig. 7.
THEORY OF COLORS.
colors are combined, and assuming that wjhich is least intense among them,
combine with it the proportion of the other two, which is necessary to produce
white, the resulting tint will be such as would be produced by the balance of
the remaining colors diluted by the resulting white.
By following out this reasoning, it will be seen how the infinite variety of
tints of color may be produced by the simple component colors, red, yellow,
and blue, existing in different degrees of intensity.
The color called black is produced by the absence of all light, and is, in fact,
a name for absolute darkness. If it were possible to find a substance abso-
lutely incapable of reflecting any light to the eye, or what is the same, of ab-
sorbing all the light which falls upon it, such substance would appear absolute-
ly black. But as no substance in nature is, on the one hand, capable of reflect-
ing all the light which falls upon it, so, on the other hand, no substance in na-
ture is capable of absorbing all the light that falls upon it. If we take the
blackest known substance and throw upon it strongly-condensed light, it will
become distinctly visible to the eye by a small portion of light which it will
reflect, which will make it appear of a gray color, or faint white. It appears,
then, that objects which are popularly termed black, are, in fact, faintly white.
A true black would be an object having no color at all.
Experiments made on finely-divided substances have proved that there is no
substance absolutely opaque. The most dense substances known, and those
that are, apparently, most impervious to light, are found, when cut into leaves
or filaments sufficiently thin, to be transparent ; but the light which goes through
them is always of a tint contrary to that which they reflect. Thus if an object
appears to the eye to be of a yellow color, we know that the reason is that it
reflects to the eye yellow light. What, then, becomes, it may be asked, of the
red and the blue components of the solar light which falls upon it ? If we ob-
tain a shaving of the body sufficiently thin, and look behind it, we shall find
that it will appear of a color composed of the red and blue ; that is, it trans-
mits through it the colors which it fails to reflect.
Hence it has been inferred that the absorption of light which takes place in
colored bodies is effected, not immediately on their surface, but at some defi-
nite depth within their dimensions, and that such portion of the compound so-
lar light that falls upon it, as is not reflected, passes successively through la-
mina, one within another, each of which absorbs a portion of it, until, at length,
it is altogether lost.
As heat is, by some means not clearly known to us, connected with light, we
have, in these circumstances, a clear explanation of the fact, that more heat is
absorbed by bodies of a dark color than by those of a light color. In general
the lighter the color the greater the proportion is of the reflected light, and the
darker the color the less the proportion is. The greater the proportion of
light that is absorbed the greater will be the proportion of the heat which at-
tends that light. Hence it follows that, as dark colors absorb more heat than
light ones, and as black absorbs the most of all, dark colors are, in gener-
al, warm, and black the most so. If two pieces of cloth be thrown upon
snow, one black and the other white, the black will sink through it, melting
the snow under it, before the other penetrates into it perceptibly.
Hence, dark-colored cloths are most suitable in cold weather, and light-col-
ored in warm weather.
After all that has been explained, it will be scarcely necessary to say that
the sense in which color is commonly understood to be a quality of bodies, is
incorrect, and, strictly speaking, it is true, although it may sound paradoxical
to say that leaves are not green, and that the sky is not blue. The green and
the blue colors belong, properly speaking, not to the objects which appear to
552
THEORY OF COLORS.
the eye to be green or blue, but to the light which they reflect from their sur-
faces. A red object is one which reflects red light and absorbs all other col-
ors, a blue object one which reflects blue light and absorbs other tints, and so
on. The color of a body, then, or more properly, the cause which produces
the color, is the quality possessed by its particles to reflect certain lights and
absorb others.
That the color which seems to belong to a body is not really inherent in the
body, or inseparable from it, is proved by showing that we can give any color
that may be desired to a body by exposing it to light of that peculiar tint.
Thus if a piece of blue cloth be illuminated by a beam of pure red light, it
will appear red ; or, if by yellow light, it will appear yellow ; but neither the
yellow, nor the red, will be as vivid as the color it would exhibit if illuminated
by blue light.
f
I
(
I
THE VISIBLE STARS.
What occupies the Space beyond the Limits of the Solar System. — Wide Vacuity between thi* Sys-
tem and the Stars. — Indications of this observable in the Motions of the Planet* — Iudiciit':>n* in \
the Motions of the Comets. — The immense Distance of the Stars proved by the Earth's uniwa! )
Motion. — Observations made at Greenwich. — Besscl's Discovery of the Parallax. — The conse<]:ient S
Dist:in.-e of tho Stars. — Illustrations of the Magnitude of this Distai.ce. — The different Orders and
Magnitudes of the Stars. — How accounted for. — Why those of the lowest Magnitude arc most Nu-
merous.— The real Magnitude of the Stars. — The Telescope unable to Magnify them— Dr.
WoMastoa's Investigations of the comparative Brightness and Magnitude of the Stars in Relation
to the Sun. — Their stupendous Magnitude. — Application of this to the Dog-star.
THE VISIBLE STARS.
5.-,;,
THE VISIBLE STARS.
ON former occasions we have taken a survey of the group of inhabited globes
which, in company with the earth, revolve around the sun. We have examined
their motions and estimated their magnitudes and distances. Passing succes-
sively from planet to planet, the mind has been oppressed by the stupendous di-
mensions offered to its contemplation. Jupiter, a globe 1,400 times the bulk of
the earth, revolving at a distance of five hundred millions of miles from the sun ;
the Saturnian system, with its globe a thousand times larger than the earth — its
system of revolving rings, and its suite of seven moons — sweeping round the
sun in a vast orbit at a distance of a thousand millions of miles, and having a
year thirty times the length of ours, diversified by similar seasons, but varied
by seven different kinds of months ; and, finally, having attained the extreme
limit of the system, the planet Herschel is found, moving at such a distance
from the sun that that luminary is reduced to a star, with- moous too distant to
allow of their number being satisfactorily ascertained, and probably other illu-
minating apparatus, the discovery of which is reserved to future observers.
Such are the objects, such the distances, and such the motions, here presented
to us. But the aspirations of the inquisitive spirit of man rest not here con-
tented. Taking its station at this extreme verge of the system, and throwing
its searching glance toward the interminable realms of space which extend be-
yond those limits, it still asks — What lies there ? Has the Infinite circumscribed
the exercise of his creative power within the precincts of the solar system —
and has he left the unfathomable depths of space that stretch beyond it a wide
solitude ? Has He whose dwelling is immensity, and whose presence is every-
where and eternal, remained inactive throughout regions in the universe com-
pared with which the solar system itself shrinks into a point f
Even though scientific research should have left us without definite informa-
tion on these questions, the light which has been shed on the Divine character,
as well by reason as by revelation, would have filled us with the assurance that
556 THE VISIBLE STARS.
there is no region of space however remote, which does not teem with evi-
dences of the exalted power, the inexhaustible wisdom, and the untiring good-
ness of the Most High.
But science has not so deserted us. It has not failed to afford us much in-
teresting and elevating information regarding those distant regions of space.
The sagacity and activity of modern astronomers have supplied us with much
interesting information respecting regions of the universe the extent of which
is so great that even the whole dimensions of the solar system supply no mod-
ulus sufficiently great to enable us to express their magnitude. It-will not, then,
be unprofitable or unpleasing, on the present occasion, to carry our inquiries
into those realms of space that stretch beyond the limits of our own system,
and to inquire into the condition of the physical creation there.
We are furnished with a variety of evidence, establishing, incontestably, the
fact, that around our system to avast distance on every side there exists an un-
occupied space ; that the solar system stands alone in the midst of a vast soli-
tude. What are the proofs of this ? Newton has demonstrated in his investi-
gations respecting the law of gravitation, that all masses of matter exercise
upon each other mutual attraction ; in virtue of which, the presence of any
mass in the neighborhood of another is betrayed, even though we should not
see it, by the effects which it produces on the condition and motion of the other.
The group of globes constituting the solar system, exercise upon each other
this influence ; arid although, from the enormous preponderance of its mass
above all the rest, the sun seems to annihilate the separate influence of the
planets and satellites upon each other, yet, by rigorous examination of the mo-
tions of these bodies, we are able to detect the effects of their reciprocal influ-
ences. The motion of each body of the system is the combined result of the
attraction of the sun and the other bodies of the system upon it. A rigorous
analysis of the motions of the planets has exhibited all these effects, and in
these motions we can distinctly see the gravitating influences of the various
bodies of the system. Now, if there exists beyond the limits of the system,
and within a distance not so great as to render the attraction of gravitation im-
perceptible, any mass of matter, such as another sun like our own, such a mass
would undoubtedly exercise a gravitating force upon the various bodies of the
solar system. It would cause each of them to move in a manner different from
what it would have moved if no such body existed.
Thus it appears that, even though the presence of a mass of matter in our
neighborhood should escape direct observation, its presence would be invaria-
bly betrayed by the effects which its gravitation would necessarily produce
upon the planets. No such effects, however, are discoverable. The planets
move as they would move if the solar system were independent of any external
disturbing attraction. These motions, which are accurately observed, are such,
and such only, as can be accounted for by the attraction of the sun and the re-
ciprocal attraction of the other bodies of the system. The inevitable inference
from this is, that there does not exist any mass of matter in the neighborhood
of the solar system within any distance which permits such a mass to exercise
upon it any discoverable gravitating influence, and that, if any body analogous
to our sun exists in the universe, it must be placed at a distance from our sys-
tem inconceivably great — so great, indeed, that the whole magnitude of our sys-
tem will shrink into a point compared with it.
But we have other indications of this condition of things. The solar system
is supplied with feelers, which it. is enabled to throw out into the regions sur-
rounding it to vast distances, and these are endowed with the highest con-
ceivable susceptibility, which would cause them to betray to us the presence in
these regions even of masses of matter of very limited dimensions. These
THE VISIBLE STARS.
Iff
feelers are the COMETS, and in particular that called Halley's comet. Thia body
emerges from the system periodically, and makes an excursion into the sur-
rounding regions to a distance of little less than two thousand millions of miles
beyond the limits of our system, and returns at regular intervals to the sun. It
is a body of extreme levity and tenuity compared even with the smallest plan-
etary masses ; it is, therefore, eminently susceptible of the effects of gravitation
proceeding from a body external to it.
We have shown, on another occasion, that when this body, once in seventy-
live years, departs from our system to make its vast excursion through distant
regions of space, the eye of science pursues it along its path, watches its move-
ments, and follows its course. That course is calculated upon the supposition
that it is subject to no attraction through the entire range of its orbit except
those of the sun and planets, and the calculations of its return are based upon
that supposition. The time and the place of each of its successive returns to
our system have been foretold on these suppositions ; and we have found that
its returns have corresponded faithfully with such predictions. It is certain,
then, that, in its range through space, this body has not passed in the neigh-
borhood of any mass of matter capable of exercising an observable attraction
upon it. In fact, it moves exactly as it would move if no material object exist-
ed in the creation save those of the solar system itself. It follows, therefore,
that all other objects must be too distant from our system to produce any dis-
coverable attraction even on so light a body as this.
Yet when, on any clear night, we contemplate the firmament, and behold the
countless multitudes of objects that sparkle upon it, and remember what a com-
paratively small number are comprised among those of the solar system, and
even of these how few are visible at any one time, we are naturally impel-
led to the inquiry, Where in the universe are these vast numbers of objects
placed ?
Very little reflection and reasoning, applied to the consideration of our own
position, and to the appearances of the heavens, will convince us that the ob-
jects that chiefly appear in the firmament must be at almost immeasurable dis-
tances from our system. The earth in its annual course round the sun moves
in a circle, the diameter of which is about two hundred millions of miles. We,
who observe the heavens, are transported upon the globe round that vast circle.
The station from which we observe the universe at one period of the year is,
then, two hundred millions of miles from the station to which we are transport-
ed at another period of the year. Thus, if we view the heavens on the night
of the 1st of January and note their aspect, and view them again on the night
of the 1st of July, we know that the two stations from which we take these
two surveys are separated by a space of two hundred millions of miles.
Now it is a fact within the familiar experience of every one, that the relative
position of objects will depend upon the point from which they are viewed. If
we stand upon the bank of a river, along the margin of which a multitude of
ships are stationed, and view the masts of the vessels, they will have among
each other a certain relative arrangement. If we change our position, however,
through the space of a few hundred yards, the relative position of these masts
will not be the same as before. Two which before lay in line will now be seen
separate, and two which before were separated are now brought into line. Two,
one of which was to the right of the other, are now reversed ; that which was
to the right, is at the left, and vice versa ; nor are these changes produced by
any change of position of the ships themselves, for they are moored in station-
ary positions. The changes of appearance are the result of our own change of
position, and the greater that change of position is, the greater will be the rela-
tive change of these appearances. Let us suppose, however, that we are moved
> a much greater distance from the shipping ; a very slight change in our po-
sition will produce much less effect upon the relative position of the masts ;
perhaps it will require a very considerable change of position to produce a per-
ceivable change upon them. In fine, in proportion as our distance from the
masts is increased, so in proportion will it require a greater change in our own
position to produce the same apparent change in the position of the masts.
Thus it is with all visible objects. When a multitude of stationary objects
are viewed at a distance, their relative position will depend upon the position of
the observer, arid if the station of the observer be changed, a change in the
relative position of the objects must be expected ; and if no perceptible change
is produced, it must be inferred that the distance of the object is incomparably
greater than the change of position of the observer.
Let us now apply these reflections to the case of the earth and the stars.
The stars are analogous to the masts of the ships, and the earth is the station on
which the observer is placed, and which is changeable in its position by reason
of its annual motion. It would, doubtless, be expected that the magnitude of
the globe, being eight thousand miles in diameter, would produce a change of
position of the observer sufficient to cause a change in the relative position of
the stars, but we find that such is not the case. The stars, viewed from oppo-
site sides of the globe of the earth, present exactly the same appearance ; we
must, therefore, infer that the diameter of the globe of the earth is absolutely
nothing compared to their distance.
But the astronomer has still a much larger modulus to fall back upon. He
reflects, as has been already observed, that he is enabled to view the stars
from two stations, separated from each other, not by eight thousand miles, the
diameter of the earth, but by two hundred millions of miles, that of the earth's
orbit. He, therefore, views the heavens on the first of January, and views them
again on the first of July, yet he finds, to his amazement, that the aspect is the
same. He thinks that this cannot be — that so great a change of position in
himself cannot fail to make some change in the apparent position of the stars ; —
that, although their general aspect is the same, yet when submitted to exact
examination a change must assuredly be detected. He accordingly resorts to
the use of instruments of observation capable of measuring the relative posi-
tions of the stars with the last conceivable precision, and he is more than ever
confounded by the fact, that still no discoverable change of position is found.
For a long period of time this result seemed inexplicable, and, accordingly,
it formed the greatest difficulty with astronomers in admitting the annual mo-
tion of the earth. The alternative offered was this : it was necessary, either
to fall back upon the Ptolemaic system, in which the earth was stationary, or
to suppose that the immense change of position of the earth in the course of
half a year, which we have already mentioned, could produce no discoverable
change of appearance in the stars ; a fact which involves the inference that the
diameter of the earth's orbit, which measures two hundred millions of miles,
must be a mere point compared with the distance of the nearest stars. Such
an idea appeared so preposterous and inconceivable, that for a long period of
time many preferred to embrace the Ptolemaic hypothesis, beset as it wus
with difficulties and contradictions.
Since, however, tlie annual motion of the earth must now be regarded as a
proved fac^, we are driven to the inference, deduced from the absence of all change
of relative apparent position in the stars, that the distances of these objects from
our system is, in the common popular sense of the word, infinitely great com-
pared with the dimensions of our system, and this inference is in perfect ac-
cordance with the other indications of the wide vacuity that surrounds the
system.
THE VISIBLE STARS. 559 j
In such a state of things, it will easily be imagined that astronomers have '
diligently directed their observations to the discovery of some chance of appa-
rent position, however small, produced upon the stars by the earth's motion \s
those stars most likely to be affected by the motion of the earth are those which
are nearest to the system, and therefore probably which are brightest and lar-
gest, it has been to such chiefly that this kind of observation has been directed.
Since it was certain, that if any observable effect was produced by the earth's
motion at all it must be extremely small, the nicest and most difficult means
of observation were those alone from which the discovery could be exp.
Among the many expedients used for the detection of such effects, we shall se-
lect as an example one which was adopted at the Royal Observatory at Green-
wich. A telescope of great length was attached to the side of a pier of solid
masonry erected upon a foundation of rock. This instrument was scrcunl
into such a position that particular stars as they crossed the meridian would
necessarily pass within its field of view. Micrometric wires were in the usual
manner placed in its eye-piece, so that the exact point at which the stars passed
the meridian each night could be observed and recorded with the greatest pre-
cision. The instrument being thus fixed and immoveable, the transits of the
stars were noted each night, and the exact places where they passed the merid-
ian recorded. This kind of observation was carried on through the year, and
if the earth's change of position, by reason of its annual motion, should produce
any effect upon the apparent position of the stars, it was anticipated that such
effect would be discovered by the'se means. After, however, making all allow-
ance for the usual carses which we knew to affect the apparent position of the
stars, such as refraction or aberration, no change of position was discovered
which could be assigned to the earth's motion.
Within the last few years, however, Professor Bessel has directed his scien-
tific labors to this inquiry, and has succeeded in detecting a small effect on one
of the stars in the constellation of the Swan. In a communication, made in
1838 by that astronomer to Sir John Herschel, he says : " After so many un-
successful attempts to determine the parallax of a fixed star, I thought it worth
while to try what might be accomplished by means of the accuracy which
my great Fraunhoffer heliometer gives to the observations. I undertook to
make this investigation upon the star 61 Cygni ; which, by reason of its great
proper motion, is perhaps the best of all, which affords the advantage of being
a double star, and on that account may be observed with greater accuracy, and
which is so near the pole that, with the exception of a small part of the year,
it can always be observed at night at a sufficient altitude."
These observations were continued for four years, and the result was the
discovery that the position of the star in question was affected by the earth's
motion to the extent of a little less than one third of a second. From this may
be calculated the distance of the star from the solar system.
To render intelligible the spirit of the method by which the distance of the stars
may be inferred from their discovered parallax, let us suppose two lines, drawn
from a star to opposite ends of a diameter of the earth's orbit, or to two positions
which the earth occupies after an interval of six months. The angle formed
by these two lines is, in fact, the amount of the apparent change of position of
the star by reason of the earth's motion, and it is technically called the parallax.
We may in this case consider the diameter of the orbit as a portion of an enor-
mous circle, the centre of which is at the star, and the radius of which is the
distance of the star from the earth. It is known, in geometry, that an arc
circle which measures one second is in length the 206,265th part of the rnd
and if it measures one third of a second, it will, of course, be the 618,79
part of the radius.
560 THE VISIBLE STARS.
. ^ j
Professor Bessel found that the angle contained by those two lines, drawn '
from the star in question to the opposite sides of the orbit, contained an angle ,
amounting to two thirds of a second, and, consequently, that the angle included '
by the lines between the sun and the earth would form one third of a second. !
From this it would follow, that the distance from the star, being the radius of a
circle, of which the distance between the earth and sun is an arc of one third
of a second, will be 618,795 times the length of the earth's distance from the sun.
Taking round numbers, then, it will follow from this observation that the dis-
tance of this star is 600,000 times greater than the distance of the earth from
the sun. But the distance of the earth from the sun being 100 millions of miles,
it will follow that the distance of the star must be sixty millions of millions of
miles.
Such is the nearest approximation that observation has supplied for the space
that separates the solar system from other bodies of the universe.
Minds unaccustomed to the contemplation of great numbers and magnitudes
are overwhelmed in their efforts to conceive such distances ; and even astron-
omers have been compelled to resort to extraordinary expedients to express and
conceive clearly such spaces.
On another occasion we have shown that light moves through space at
the rate of 200,000 miles per second. This motion of light has accordingly
been adopted as the most convenient modulus for expressing the distances of
the stars ; and we are accustomed to express them by saying how long light
would take to move over them. If, then, sixty millions of millions of
miles be divided by 200,000 we shall obtain the number of seconds which
light would take to come from the nearest star to the solar system ; and if this
number of seconds be, in the usual manner, reduced to years, it will be found
that light would take about ten years to travel from the nearest star to the
earth. Such is, then, the space that divides us from them.
To conceive this prodigious distance more clearly still, it has been calcula-
ted that a cannon-ball, which moves with a velocity of 500 miles an hour,
would take to travel from the nearest star to the earth, an interval of 14,255,418
years. Again : it has been computed that a steam-carriage starting from the
earth, and moving toward the star at the rate of 20 miles an hour, would take
to reach the star, 356,385,466 years; a period of time 61,000 times greater
than the whole interval since the creation of the world, according to Mosaic
chronology.
But this is only the interval that separates our system from the nearest stars.
Analogy and all the grounds of probability lead to the conclusion that corre-
sponding intervals separate the stars from each other. We shall hereafter see
that the stars are, in fact, suns like our own, or, what is the same, that our sun
is a star ; and it is consistent and natural to suppose our sun is no farther re-
moved from the stars than the stars are from each other.
Among the multitude of stars which we behold in the firmament we find
a great variety of splendor. Those which are the brightest and largest, and
which are said to be of the first magnitude, are few ; the next in order of
brightness, which are called of the second magnitude, are more numerous ; and
as they decrease in brightness their number rapidly increases.
The number of stars of the first magnitude does not exceed twenty ; those of
the second, fifty ; those of the third, two hundred ; and so on, the number of
the smallest being incapable of estimation.
The stars which are capable of being seen by the naked eye are usually re-
solved into seven orders of magnitudes — the first being the brightest and largest,
while those of the seventh magnitude are the smallest that the eye can dis-
tinctly see.
THE VISIBLE STARS. 5QJ
Are we to suppose, then, that this relative brightness which we perv
really arises from any difference of intrinsic splendor between the object* tin-ni-
sei ves, or does it, as it may equally do, arise from their difference of dislan
Are the stars of the seventh magnitude so much less bright and conspicuous
than those of the first magnitude because they are really smaller orbs placed
at the same distance, or because, being intrinsically equal in splendor, th<
tance of those of the seventh magnitude is so much greater than the disi
of those of the first magnitude that they are diminished in their apparent
brightness ? We know that by the laws of optics the brightness of a luminous
object diminishes in a very rapid proportion as the distance increases. Thus
at double the distance the brightness will be four times less, at triple the dis-
tance it will be nine times less, at a hundred times the distance it will be ten
thousand times less, and so on.
It is evident, then, that the great variety of brightness which prevails among the
stars may be indifferently explained, either by supposing them objects of differ-
ent intrinsic brightness and magnitude, placed at the same distance, or objects
generally of the same order of magnitude placed at a great diversity, of distances.
Of these two suppositions, the latter is infinitely the most probable and nat-
ural ; it has, therefore, been usually adopted : and we accordingly consider the
stars to derive their variety of brightness almost entirely from the positions
assigned to them in the universe being at various distances from us.
Taking the stars generally to be intrinsically the same in brightness, varipus
theories have been proposed as to the positions which would explain their ap-
pearances ; and the most natural and probable is, that their distances from each
other are generally equal, or nearly so, and correspond with the distance of our
sun from the nearest of them. In this way the fact that a small number of stars
only appear of the first magnitude, and that the number increases very rapidly
as the magnitude diminishes, is easily rendered intelligible.
If we imagine a person standing in the midst of a wood, surrounded by trees
on every side and at every distance, those which immediately surround him
will be few in number, and by proximity will appear large. The trunks or
stumps of those which occupy a circuit beyond the former will be more nu-
merous, the circuit being wider, and will appear smaller, because their dis-
tance is greater. Beyond these again, occupying a still wider circuit, will ap-
pear a proportionally augmented number, whose apparent magnitude will again
be diminished by increased distance ; and thus the trees which occupy wider
and wider circuits at greater and greater distances will be more and more nu-
merous, and will appear continually smaller. It is the same with the stars ;
we are placed in the midst of an immense cluster of suns surrounding us on
every side at inconceivable distances. Those few which are placed immedi-
ately about our system appear bright and large, and we call them stars of the
first magnitude. Those which lie in the circuit beyond, and occupying a
wider range, are more numerous and less bright ; and we call them stars of the
second magnitude. And there is thus a progression increasing in number and
distance and diminishing in brightness, until we attain a distance so great that
the stars are barely visible to the naked eye. This is the limit of vision,
is the range of the universe which the eye in its natural condition is destined
to behold ; but an eye has been given us more potent still, and of infinitely
wider range,— the eye of the mind. The telescope, a creature of the under-
standing, has conferred upon the bodily eye an infinitely augmented range, and,
as we shall presently see, has enabled us to penetrate into realms of thi
universe, which, without its aid, would never have been known to us.
let us pause for the present and dwell for a moment upon that range of space
which comes within 'the scope of natural vision.
38
THE VISIBLE STARS.
Sir William Herschel, to whose researches we are indebted for a large ror-
tion of the knowledge which we possess respecting the fixed stars, has inves-
tigated the probable progression of distances which regulate the stars visible
to the naked eye, and has shown reasonable grounds for concluding that the
smallest visible star is at a distance about twelve times greater than stars of
the first magnitude. He supposes that the intermediate stars between the
smallest that can be seen by the naked eye, and stars like the dogstar, which,
from their brightness, must be presumed to be nearest to us, are ranged at in-
termediate distances. It would therefore follow that if we assume the distance
of the nearest star according to the results of Bessel's observations, to be a
space that light would move over it in 10 years, the distance of the smallest
star perceivable by unassisted vision must be such that light would take 120
years to move over ! If, then, we imagine a sphere surrounding us, the radius
of which is equal to the space that light moves over in 120 years, that sphere
is the range of natural and unassisted vision, and is that portion of the universe
which men are privileged to contemplate unaided by art.
MAGNITUDE OF THE STARS.
The extent of the stellar universe visible to the naked eye, and the arrange-
ment of stars in it and their relative distances, have just been explained. But a
natural curiosity will be awakened to discover not merely the position and ar-
rangement of those bodies, but to ascertain what is their nature, and what parts
they play on the great theatre of creation ? Are they analogous to our planets ?
Are they inhabited globes, warmed and illuminated by neighboring suns ? Or
on the other hand, are they themselves suns, dispensing light and life to sys-
tems of surrounding worlds.
When a telescope is directed to a star, the effect produced is strikingly dif-
ferent from that which we find when it is applied to a planet. A planet, to
the naked eye, with one or two exceptions, appears like a common star. The
telescope, however, immediately presents it to us with a distinct circular disk
similar to that which the moon offers to the naked eye, and in the case of some
of the planets a powerful telescope will render them apparently even larger than
the moon. But the effect is very different indeed when the same instrument
is directed even to the brightest star. We find that instead of magnifying, it
actually diminishes. There is an optical illusion produced, when we behold
a star, which makes it appear to us to be surrounded with a radiation which
causes it to be represented when drawn on paper, by a dot with rays diverging
on every side from it. The effect of the telescope is to cut off this radiation,
and present to us the star as a mere lucid point, having no sensible magnitude ;
nor can any augmented telescopic power which has yet been resorted to pro-
duce any other effect. Telescopic powers amounting to six thousand were
occasionally used by Sir William Herschel, and he stated that with these the
apparent magnitude of the stars seemed less, if possible, than with lower
powers.
We have other proofs of the fact that the stars have no sensible disks, among
which may be mentioned the remarkable effect called the occultation of a star by
the dark edge of the moon. When the moon is a crescent or in the quarters, as
it moves over the firmament, its dark edge successively approaches to or recedes
from the stars. And from time to time it happens that it passes between the
stars and the eye. If a star had a sensible disk in this case, the edge of the
moon would gradually cover it, and the star, instead of being instantaneously
extinguished, would gradually disappear. This is found not to be the case ;
the star preserves all its lustre until the moment it comes into contact with the
THE VISIBLE STARS.
663
dark edge of the moon's disk, and then it is instantly extinguished, without the
slightest appearance of diminution of its brightness. This effect also presents
a striking proof of the non-existence of an atmosphere round the moon.
It may be asked then, if such be the case, if none of the stars, great or small,
have any discoverable magnitude at all ; with what meaning can we speak of
stars of the first, second, or other orders of magnitude ? The term magnitude
thus applied, was used before the invention of the telescope, when the start,
j having been observed only with the naked eye, were really supposed to hare
different magnitudes. We must accept the term now used to express not
the comparative magnitude, but the comparative brightness of the stars.
Thus a star of the first magnitude, means of the greatest apparent brightness ;
a star of the second magnitude means that which is in the next degree of
splendor, and so on. But what are we to infer from this singular fact, that no
magnifying power, however great, will exhibit to us a star with any sensible
magnitude ? must we admit that the optical instrument loses its magnifying
power when applied to the stars, while it retains it with every other visible
object? Such a consequence would be eminently absurd. We are therefore
driven to an inference regarding the magnitude of stars as astonishing and al-
most as incredible as that which was forced upon us respecting their distan-
ces. We saw that the entire magnitude of the annual orbit of the earth, stupen-
dous as it is, was nothing compared to the distance of one of those bodies, and
consequently if that orbit were filled by a sun whose magnitude would there-
fore be infinitely greater than that of ours, such a sun would not appear to an
observer at the nearest star of greater magnitude than one third of a second ;
consequently would have no magnitude sensible to the eye, and would appear
as a mere lucid point to an observer at the star ! We are then prepared for
the inference respecting the fixed stars which the telescopic observations al-
ready mentioned leads to. The telescope of Sir William Herschel, to which
he applied a power of six thousand, did undoubtedly magnify the stars six
thousand times, but even then their apparent magnitude was inappreciable.
We are then to infer that the distance of these wonderful bodies is so enor-
mous compared with their actual magnitude, that their apparent diameter, seen
from our system, is above six thousand times less than any which the eye is
capable of perceiving.
Under such circumstances it might appear hopeless to attempt to discover
the probable magnitude and brightness of the stars as compared with any stand-
ard known to us. Yet this problem, however hopeless it may seem, has
yielded to the ardor of astronomical inquiry.
Dr. Wollaston instituted a series of observations and calculations, which
terminated in an estimate of the magnitude and brightness of the fixed stars as
compared with our sun.
There are optical instruments called photometers, the nse and application of
which is to ascertain the comparative brightness of luminous objects. By
such instruments we can take any two visible luminous objects and compare
them so as to be enabled to say what is the numerical ratio of the lights which
they afford. Thus a common candle and a gas-lamp may be hied, and we
should be enabled immediately to say how many candles would be necessary
to give light equal to that of the lamp.
By instruments of this species Dr. Wollaston prosecuted inves
object of which was to ascertain the numerical proportion between the light
afforded by the sun and that afforded by the stars. Let us take, for example,
the case of Sinus, or the dogstar. He found by such means, that tho Hgfat
received by us from Sirius was 20,000,000,000 of times less lhan that received
from the sun. This, be it observed, was a result not of theory or speculation,
but of immediate observation and measurement. Having ascertained this, his
next object was to compute the distance to which our sun would have to be
removed in order that it should assume an appearance like that of the dogstar.
Although this might at the first view appear a difficult problem, it was by no
means so. We know by the principles of optics, that if the sun were removed
to twice its present distance it splendor would be four times less ; at three times
its present distance it would be nine times less ; at ten times the distance it
would be one hundred times less, and so on.
We have, therefore, a simple arithmetical rule of calculation, by the applica-
tion of which we can say in what proportion the brightness of the sun would
be reduced by any proposed increase of distance, or what increase of distance
would be necessary to produce any proposed diminution of brightness". If this
rule be applied to determine how much further the sun should be removed from
us than it now is, in order that it should be reduced to the appearance of the
dogstar, it will be found that the requisite increase of distance would be in
proportion of about 150,000 to 1. If, then, the sun were removed to 150,000
times its present distance it would be seen by us as a second dogstar.
Now it will be apparent, that if we had reason to know that the dogstar is
at a distance of 150,000 times greater than that of the sun, it would immedi-
ately follow that the dogstar must be a sun equal to our own, because then it
would be inferred that the sun, if placed where the dogstar is, would have ex-
actly the same splendor and magnitude.
But if, on the other hand, we had reason to know that the real distance of
the dogstar is greater than 150,000 times that of the sun, then it would follow
that the dogstar at a greater distance would have the same splendor as the sun
at a less distance ; and, consequently, the inevitable inference would be that
the dogstar must be larger and more splendid than the sun.
The discovery of Bessel having led to the conclusion that the distance of
the nearest stars is at least 600,000 times greater than that of the sun, it
follows that these objects, at that distance, are as large and bright as the sun
would be at a distance four times less. This being admitted, it immediately
follows that the stars, or at least many of them, must be objects transcendentally
greater and brighter than the sun.
At the time of the observations of Dr. Wollaston it was not supposed that the
distances of the stars were as great as they are now known to be ; and Dr.
Wollaston, adopting a much less distance than the truth, felt himself warranted
in the inference that the dogstar must be a sun equal at least to fourteen of
ours. Had he known what-has since been inferred from the observations of Pro-
fessor Bessel, how much more stupendous would he not have inferred the stars
to be!
But still, it may be asked, what are those wondrous objects ? Are they plan-
ets shining with reflected light ? or are they themselves native fountains of
light, like our sun ? It is easy to perceive that no reflected light could be in-
tense enough to be visible at distances so enormous ; independent of which,
the splendor of the stars as seen through powerful telescopes is such as to sat-
isfy us that they must be suns. Sir William Herschel stated that when his
great telescope was directed to the region of the heavens through which the
star Sirius passed, the appearance exhibited on the approach of that star was
like that of the eastern firmament on the approach of sunrise ; and that when the
glorious object itself entered the field of view, although it appeared as a mere
lucid point, having no sensible magnitude, its light was so overpowering that
he was compelled to protect his eye with a colored glass. It is needless to
say that such splendor could not proceed from an opaque globe shining with
borrowed light at a distance of sixty millions of millions of miles.
THE VISIBLE STARS.
To persons not familiar with optical researches it may appear incomprehen-
( sible that a star presenting, even with the telescope, no' disk of sensible mag-
nitude, could, nevertheless, appear so splendid. There is, however, a law of
light, clearly established in optics, which will probably remove this difficulty.
It is demonstrated that the apparent brightness of an object is not diminished
by its removal from the eye, although tb* quantity cf light which it p\.
I decreased in a high proportion. This statement may appear at first paradoxi-
i cal ; let us, however explain it.
j If the sun, for example, were removed to twice its present distance it would
, appear to the eye with half its present diameter ; yet, in its diminished size,
j t'he apparent brightness of its surface would be the same as that with which
j we behold it at the lesser distance. To illustrate this, let us suppose that a
small circular opening is made in a card, and that the card is presented to the
sun, so that a portion of the sun's disk only shall be seen through it, but that
that portion shall be circular ; the opening will present to the eye the appear-
ance of a sun of less magnitude than the real one, but of equal brightness. Let
j the card then be held at such a distance from the eye that the circular portion
I of the sun's disk visible through it shall have a diameter equal to half of the
f entire disk. A sun will thus be seen of equal brightness with the true sun,
; but of only half the linear diameter, and one fourth the superficial magnitude.
From this illustration it will be easily perceived that one object may be
i smaller than another in apparent magnitude, and that it may give less light,
. but, nevertheless, be equally bright.
This being clearly understood, it remains to be shown, that if the sun were
j removed to double its present distance it would exhibit a surface to the eye as
; bright, though only half of the diameter. To comprehend this, let it be re-
1 membered that the light which proceeds from the smaller sun seen from double
> the distance, issues from the entire surface of the sun, while the light which
| would proceed from an equal portion of the sun's disk seen at its present dis-
i tance, would only proceed from one fourth of the entire area of the disk. The
] actual quantity of light, therefore, which issues from the small sun, seen from the
/ larger distance, is greater, in the proportion of 4 to 1, than that which proceeds
! from the small portion of the larger sun, seen at the lesser distance. It fol-
i lows, then, that the actual quantity of light by which the object is rendered visi-
| ble at the greater distance, is four times more than that by which the equivalent
> part of the nearer object is rendered visible at the lesser distance ; but in con-
J sequence of the distance being less in the latter case, the intensity of the les-
) ser quantity of light is four times greater. In short, it follows that as the ob-
l ject recedes from the eye the quantity of light which proceeds from a given por-
[ lion of the visual area is increased in the same proportion as the square of the
} distance, while the intensity of the light is diminished in exactly the same pro-
) portion. What is, therefore, lost in intensity by increased distance, is gained
in quantity ; and the effect is, that the splendor of the object is not changed by
distance, but only its apparent magnitude.
The apparent diameter of the sun is very nearly 2,000 seconds of a degree.
If it were removed to 2,000 times its present distance it would present a diam-
eter of one second ; but it would appear as bright as a small portion of the
present disk would appear having an apparent diameter 2,000 times less than its
me appearance of such portiuu wumu uc, ao uj uiigum^t»» v~ *.~.* — — — e —
tude, that which the sun would have at 2,000 times its present distance.
Since, then, the brightness of the stars, in the proper sense of the term j
•iohtness, is' not diminished by increased distance, we shall be the less sur-
I
566 THE VISIBLE STARS.
} prised at their being visible, notwithstanding that they present no sensible dis'
\ even when magnified by the most powerful telescope.
It may again be asked how it can be said that the brightness of a star i
not diminished by distance, when it is maintained that the splendor of the dog
star compared with one of the seventh magnitude, is owing to the greatness o
the distance of the latter. To this we reply, according to the proper term
brightness the dogstar is not brighter than an equal star of the seventh magni
tude. It is a more splendid object as viewed by the eye, because it transmit
more light to the eye, but its intrinsic splendor may be the same. The sun a
seen from the earth and as seen from the planet Herschel, has the same in
tnnsic brightness, but its apparent magnitude at Herschel 200 times less.
\
L
WATERSPOUTS AND WHIELWlNDri.
WATER-SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
WATER-SPOUTS apparently consist of dense masses of aqueous vapor, pre-
senting, often a gyratory and progressive motion, and resembling in form a con-
ical cloud, the base of which is presented upward, and the vertex of which
generally rests upon the ground, but sometimes assumes the contrary position.
This phenomenon is attended with a sound like that of a wagon rolling upou
a rousjh pavement.
Violent mechanical effects sometimes attend these meteors. Large trees torn
up by the roots, stripped of their leaves, and exhibiting all the appearances of
having been struck by lightning, are projected to great distances. Houses are
often thrown down, unroofed, and otherwise injured or destroyed, when they
lie in the course of a water-spout. Rain, hail, and frequently globes of fire,
like the ball-lightning already mentioned, accompany these meteors, which are
manifested equally at sea and on land.
Although the electrical effects which attend this meteor prove that it is close-
ly connected with atmospheric electricity, yet, as no theory has hitherto been
proposed which affords a satisfactory and adequate explanation of the phenom-
ena, it is the more necessary to state, with as much clearness and precision as
possible, independently of all hypotheses, the exact circumstances which have
been found to attend them in the various parts of the globe where they have
been observed. They are called water-spouts or land-spouts, according as they
take place over the surface of the water or the land.
In the history of the Academy of Sciences is the following narrative : —
" On the 2d of November, 1729, about 8 o'clock in the morning, at Montpellier,
a small and very obscure cloud was seen, in a very elevated position, in the di-
rection of the southeast, whence the wind then blew. It advanced toward
the town with a noise at first low, "but which augmented as it approached :
it gradually descended toward the ground, and a light was perceived to issae
from it, like that which accompanies the smoke of a great fire. After the pas-
, this cloud, a strong odor of sulphur was perceived, like that which is
568
WATER-SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
diffused in places that have been struck by lightning. This cloud had a very
rapid motion, and formed round it a whirlwind, which extended to a distance
of above a hundred yards round, the force of which was so prodigious that it
tore up trees by the roots, carried away the roofs of houses, overturned build-
ings, and scattered their ruins to a distance of nearly 500 yards. After having
moved along half a league, with a width of above 200 yards, it Avas dissipated,
followed by heavy rain, but not accompanied by thunder or lightning."
In the Journal de Physique for November, 1780, is the following description
of one of these meteors, which took place at five o'clock in the evening, near
Carcassonne : —
" This meteor originated upon the borders of the Aude. It commenced by
pouring down a great quantity of water ; it then projected upward, to a great
height, quantities of sand. It unroofed eighty houses, and scattered over the
country the sheaves of corn which it carried away. It tore up by the roots
large oaks, and transported to a distance of fifty yards their branches, project-
ing them in a direction contrary to that of its own motion. It broke the doors,
windows, and furniture of a chateau; it destroyed the pavement in the middle
of a room, without deranging china cups which were placed there ; it broke
the frame of a looking-glass which was placed upon a chimney-piece, and scat-
tered the fragments upon the chairs of the room, leaving the glass, however, in
its place uninjured."
In the Memoirs of the Academy of Toulouse, vol. v., is the following descrip-
tion of a land-spout, which, on the 15th of June, 1785, devastated the neigh-
borhood of Esclades, about four leagues from Narbonne : —
" The night before this, terrible visitation was very fine, the sun rose unob-
scured by a single cloud, and the morning air was calm and pure. At half-past
six o'clock the heat became very great, and continued to increase till seven
o'clock, when it was excessive. At that time there appeared in the west a small
cloud, which, gradually augmenting, extended in an hour over the whole hori-
zon. The thermometer of Reaumur stood at 29°,* and the barometer at 28
inches. There was a light wind from the west. Such being the state of the
atmosphere at two o'clock in the afternoon, a kind of smoky and blustering
(Iruyantr] column was formed in the west, which passed between Esclades and
Mont Brun. In its course it swept away earth and sand, tore up trees, and
ravaged everything which came before it. This lasted for about five minutes.
At about five miles from Esclades it became stationary for about five minutes,
after which it returned upon its steps : the noise which it made resembled the
continual roaring of thunder. It burst upon Esclades in a terrific shower of
hail. This hail was succeeded by a rain so abundant that the country was in-
undated. During this shower, which lasted three quarters of an hour, lightning
fell in several places. The thermometer rose to 32°.f
" The barometer rose a quarter of an inch, and the wind was very violent.
After the meteor disappeared the weather became cool, and the barometer fell
an inch and a quarter."
Humboldt slates that, in the Steppes of South America, the plain or table
land presents an extraordinary spectacle, which he describes as follows : —
" The sand rises in the middle of a rarefied whirlwind, probably charged
with electricity, like a vapor, or a cloud in the form of a funnel, the point of
which slides upon the ground, and resembling the blustering water-spout so
much feared by the experienced navigator. On the roads in Europe, we see
something which approaches the singular appearance of these whirlwinds of
sand ; but they are especially observed in the sandy deserts situate in Peru, be-
tween Coquimbo and Amotape. It is worthy of remark, that these partial cui
* Equal to 100 degrees Fahr. t Equal to 104 degrees Fahr.
WATERSPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
rents of air which encounter each other are only perceived when tho atmo-
sphere is entirely calm— the ocean of air, therefore, like the ocean of v.
encountering each other only in a dead calm."*
The Courier of the 19th of September, 1826, published the following narra- '
tiye of a meteor which ravaged the arrondissement of Carcassonne on the VJf.th
of August preceding : —
" The wind was from the south, and the heat of the morning was suffoca-
ting. About noon, the clouds accumulated in the west, and a violent wind ::
A thick black cloud appeared, suspended over a piece of land near thn ch
of La Counette. In the direction of Fombraise, the clouds were seen to en-
counter each other, and, after the collision, to descend very low, as if they wf-re
attracted by the earth. The thunder grumbled on every side with a dulfrolling
noise ; domestic animals fled to their sheds. Suddenly a frightful explosion
(craquemcnt) was heard in the west ; the air, violently agitated, was drawn with
extreme velocity toward the black cloud above mentioned : the moment they
encountered was signalized by'a loud detonation, and the appearance of aii
enormous column of fire, which, sweeping over the field, tore up everything in
its way. A young man of 17 was carried away by this whirlwind, raised in
the- air, and dashed against a rock, by which his ' head was split; 14 sheep
were carried away, and fell senseless.
" This column of air and fire overturned walls, displaced enormous rocks, tore
up by the roots the largest trees, broke into the chateau by two openings, tore
up and overturned the stones of the porte cuchsre, broke the gate, twisted all
the iron work, broke through a window, entered the saloon on the first floor,
broke through its ceiling, entered the second floor, passed to the roof, and, in
fine, reduced to ruin these three stories. The ladies, who were in the saloon
on the first floor, saw a globe of fire enter it, and owed their safety only to an
enormous beam which formed an arch to support the wood-work. A vortex of
air, entering by the window above the kitchen, broke through a partition, raised
the floor, broke the furniture, overturned the beds, opened the closets without
disturbing their contents, penetrated a thick wall and projected its ruins to a
great distance, broke the timber-work of the chateau, tore up by the roots an
enormous oak five feet in circumference, crushed two small houses, carried
away wagons, which it precipitated into a ravine, uprooted several enormous
walnut-trees, ravaged the vines, leaving in the earth deep trenches, and im-
pregnating the air with a strong odor of sulphur. This meteor disappeared in
the direction of Forcenas, and was succeeded by very heavy rain. The heavens
then became serene, and a wind arose from the east."
In 1823, this meteor made great ravages in the neighborhood of Dreux and
Mantes in France.
" In the village of Marc/iefroid, fifty-three houses were destroyed in the space
of one minute, yet the storm was scarcely heard, and the appearance of the
water-spout was only preceded by a little hail. A child three years old, who
stood beside its mother in a court-yard, was killed upon the spot. On exam-
ining its body, no wounds were found upon it except a hole of a certain depth |
in the neck. Entire roofs were carried'away either in the direction in which
the meteor moved, or in the contrary direction. The four walls of a ^.H,li n
were thrown down in a regular manner, all tailing on the outside of th
their fall was marked by great regularity. After the meteor passed away, the
temperature did not seem changed, and 'the sun immediately reap,
On the 6th of July, 1822, a land-spout was formed in the plain of < ta
near the village of that name, in the department of the Pas do Calais.
• Tableau <lc la Nature, torn i., pp. 43 and 177.
570
WATER-SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
Clouds coming from different directions and collecting over the plain, ulti-
mately formed a single cloud which covered the heavens : immediately after-
ward a cone descended from this cloud, presenting its vertex downward, and
having its base in the cloud. This meteor, driven by the wind, beat down a
barn, tore and carried away the tops of the largest trees, overturned twenty-
five to thirty of them, and strewed them in different directions, proving that
the meteor had a revolving motion. It carried away and crushed other trees
from sixty to seventy feet high. Globes of fire and sulphureous vapor were
seen from time to time to issue from its centre. This meteor, in its rapid
course, was attended with a sound like that of a heavy carriage rolling on a
paved road.
It then penetrated into the valley of Wctternester and Lambre ; in the former
of these villages, only eight habitations of forty were uninjured : the meteor
left everywhere traces of its passage.
On the 18th of June, 1839, the neighborhood of Chatenay, in the department
of Seine et Oise, was visited by a meteor, which happened to be witnessed by
MM. Peltier, Bouchard, and Becquerel. The following narrative of it is abridg-
ed from the account given of it by M. Peltier : —
In the morning, a storm was formed to the south of Chatenay, and about ten
o'clock it took the direction of the valley between the hills of Ecouen and Clia-
tenay. The clouds, which were high, after extending above the extremity of
the village, came to a stand, the thunder muttered, and the first cloud followed
the ordinary route, when, toward noon, a second storm coming also from the
south, advanced toward the same plain and the same hills. Arriving near the
extremity of the plain over Fontenay, in presence of the first storm which, by
its elevation, it overtopped, a pause took place, doubtless while the two storms
were presenting themselves to each other by means of their clouds charged with
the same electricity, and repelling each other.
To this time, thunder which was heard proceeded from the second cloud,
when suddenly one of the inferior clouds descending, fell into communication
with the earth, and the thunder seemed to cease. A prodigious attraction was
manifested ; all light bodies and all the dust which cohered the surface of the
ground, was raised toward the point of the cloud : a continual rolling noise suc-
ceeded ; little clouds were fluttering and whirling round the inverted cone, and
rising and falling rapidly. Trees, placed to the southeast of the meteor, were
struck on their northwest side which faced it, the other side remaining in its
usual state. The sides which were struck exhibited strong marks of the
meteor, while the other parts preserved their sap and their vegetable life. The
meteor descended the valley to the extremity of Fontenay, toward a row of
trees planted along the bed of a stream which was then without water, though
still humid. After having broken and uprooted these, it traversed the valley,
and advanced toward other plantations which it also destroyed. There, having
arrived at the point vertically under the limits of the first cloud, it paused, and
the latter, which was hitherto stationary, began to be agitated and to retreat
toward the valley west of Chatenay, and, overthrowing all that it encountered in
its way, it passed to the park of the chateau of Chatenay, which it completely
desolated. The walls were overturned, and the roofs and chimneys of the
buildings carried away. Trees were transported several hundred yards ; win-
dows, rafters, tiles were thrown to a distance of upward of 500 yards.
The meteor having ravaged that place, descended a mountain toward the
north, and paused over a fish pond, where it overthrew and parched the trees,
killed all the fish, and proceeded slowly along an alley of willows. Here it
lost a great portion of its extent and violence. It then proceeded still more
slowly over a neighboring plain, and after advancing three quarters of a mile, it
WATERSPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
.'.71
divided itself into two portions near a clump of trees, one part rising into the
clouds, while the other part sunk into the ground and disappear.
All the trees struck by this meteor had their sap completely evaporated,
the ligneous part being as much dried as if it had been exposed in a -
at the temperature of 300°. The immense quantity of vapor suddenly form-
ed by the sap, having no means of escape from the interstices of the wood,
split the tree in the longitudinal direction. All the trees presented marks ol
this effect.
By observing the progress of this phenomenon, the transformation of a com-
mon storm into a land-spout will be apparent. Two stormy clouds inovril
toward the same vertical line in which they settled at different altitudes, linn»
charged with the same electricity, the lower cloud descends toward the ground,
and is put in electrical communication with the ground by whirlwinds of dust
and by trees. This communication once established, the noise of the thunder
immediately ceases, the discharge taking place by the continuous conductor
formed by the clouds which have descended and the trees upon the plain.
These last, traversed by the electricity, have their sap dried up and their trunks
split ; finally, flashes of light, balls of fire, and sparks appear, and a sulphure-
ous odor remains in the houses for several days, the curtains of which are
everywhere scorched.
In his voyage to the Pacific Captain Beechey witnessed water-spouts off
Ciermont Tonnerre, lat. 19° south, long. 137° west, of which he has given
the drawings, from which figs. 1 and 2 have been taken.
Fig. 1.
Colonel Reid, in his work on storms, has given the following extract from a
letter addressed to him by Captain Beechey, containing a circumstantial ac
count of water-spouts, witnessed by him in the same voyage : "
been very sultry, and in the afternoon a long arch of heavy cumuli and mm
rose slowly above the southern horizon ; while watching its movements a w
ter-spout began to form, at a spot on the under side of the arch that *
er than the rest of the line. A thin cone (fig. 3), first appeared, whicl
ally became elongated, and was shortly joined by several others whi
on increasing in length and bulk until the columns had reached about I
down to the horizon The sea beneath had hitherto been undistur»,d
when the columns united it became perceptibly agitated, and almost iminc
572
WATER-SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
Fig. 2.
Fig. 3.
ately became whirled in the air with a rapid gyration and formed a vast basin,
from the centre of which the gradually lengthening column appeared to drink
fresh supplies of water (fig. 4).
Fig. 4.
WATERSPOUTS AND WHIHLWINDS.
673
" The column had extended to about two thirds of the way toward the sea,
and nearly connected itself with the basin, when a heavy shower of rain feli
from the right of the arch, and shortly after another fell from the opposite
side. This discharge appeared to have an effect on the water-spout, which
now began to retire.
" The sea, on the contrary, was perceptibly more agitated, and for several 'i
minutes the basin continued to increase in size, although the column wan con- <
siderably diminished (fig. 5).
Fig. 5.
" In a few minutes more the column had entirely disappeared. The sea.
however, still continued agitated, and did not subside for three minutes after all
the disturbing causes from above had vanished. The phenomenon was unac-
companied by thunder or lightning, although the showers of rain which fell so
suddenly seemed to be occasioned by some such disturbance."
M. Peltier has attempted to illustrate the electrical origin of these phenom-
ena by producing them artificially. With this view he has represented the
cloud in which the meteor originates by a globe of metal kept constantly charg-
ed with electricity by a machine. The inequalities of the cloud he represent-
ed bv points raised on the surface of a globe. By means of the influence
which this globe exercised upon water, vapors, and dust, he was able to pro-
duce a depression of the liquid, and the vortical or gyratory motion, and some
other effects similar to those observed in the meteor.
All these effects disappeared when the globe was divested of points. In
this case, instead of a depression, an elevation was produced ; the vapors
rose under the smooth ball, but showed little agitation. When the points
were restored, the vapor was increased in more than a threefold proportion.
The globules of vapor, being electrified at a distance by the pointSj were
repelled in all directions, and made to whirl, more or less, according to the de-
gree of the electric charge.
There are other electrical experiments made with other views, which M.
Peltier brings to bear on the illustration of water-spouts.
A plate of copper, not insulated, being placed under a sphere, a little light
ball is placed between them. When the sphere is electrified, the ball plays
alternately upward and downward between the sphere and the plate ; but if,
instead of the ball, elongated or flat bodies be interposed, so as to present only
a long and narrow strip of gold leaf, the alternate motion just described is
transformed into a vortical motion, which ultimately becomes one of rapid ro-
WATER-SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
tstion between the sphere and the plate. Such are the gyratory motions which
M. Peltier conceives to arise from electrical radiation.
The consequences which he deduces from these and similar facts are as
follows : —
1. All the immediate phenomena observed in water-spouts are due to elec-
tricity : they are the results of secondary phenomena, which almost always
accompany them. The latter vary with the locality and the state of the atmo-
sphere.
2. Their general effects are due either to statical or dynamical electricity:
most generally they proceed from both.
3. The statical effects are phenomena of attraction and repulsion.
4. The attraction of an electrical cloud is accompanied by a rush of air tow-
ard this cloud, whence result currents directed from the exterior to the inte-
rior, and proceeding from all surrounding points. It is manifested also by the
projection of the vapor of water, of liquid water itself, and of bodies that it
raises or tears, according to the force with which it acts.
5. The progress of its attractive power is plainly marked both on sea and
land. On sea it appears by the boiling of the waters, and the smoky appear-
ance which is raised from them, as represented in figures 1 and 2. On land
its course is rendered manifest by its effects upon the air, the ground, and all
loose bodies which it encounters.
6. The attraction of the clouds is also manifest by the greatly increased
evaporation of the waters, and the consequent fall of their temperature. The
repulsion is manifested by currents of the air which issue from the electric
cloud, and only exist in its neighborhood. At a little distance from it a dead
calm prevails. These double currents undergo various modifications, produced
by the localities and various qualities of the ground.
7. The repulsion is also manifested by the cone which is formed in the sea,
in the very centre of the smoky vapors, an effect which can be easily repro-
duced experimentally.
8. If an inductive action take place between two clouds charged with oppo-
site electricities, placed at a certain distance asunder, a portion of their vapor
will resume the state of common vapor ; this will lower the temperature of the
neighboring parts, which may descend even below the freezing point ; then
the vapor of water crystallizes in snowy flakes, which act immediately after
their formation, like other light bodies. The portion thus transformed into
snow, and which is charged with the electricity of the inferior cloud, is at-
tracted by the superior cloud, then there is a neutralization of electricity, a fall
of temperature, and so on.
9. Finally, the electrical tension of the superior cloud facilitates the evapo-
ration of the liquid which moistens the snowy globule, or which already covers
the ice.
The electrified clouds, acting by induction upon the ground, are attracted to
it. The clouds thus approach the earth in a greater or less quantity, depend-
ing on the energy of the attraction, and their specific gravity.
When the tension of the clouds and their density differ little from those of
the inferior strata of air, or when superior clouds, having the same electricity,
act upon the inferior by repulsion, the latter may approach the earth suflicit;.t!y
to be discharged without explosion by the intervention of other clouds which
touch it.
It happens, often, that all the bodies placed upon the surface of the earth un-
der these clouds, which have the form of an inverted cone, serve as conductors
in various degrees, according to their constituent matter, their form, their ex-
tent, and the magnitude of their contact with the ground. Light and small
WATER SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
575
bodies, oppositely electrified, are attracted and raised toward the cloud ; when
their electricity is neutralized they fall again upon the earth, where, hcinj
once more charged with electricity, they reascend, and so on. It is thus th:it
an immense cloud of dust is formed under the cone. If the bodies are attached
to the earth, like trees or buildi.igs, they are instantaneously charged with an
immense quantity of electricity. The earth, which is contiguous to them, par-
takes of this electricity, yields to the attraction of the cloud, and the trees,
buildings, or other objects upon it, are torn up and transported afar. It is in
this manner that bodies which are strongly attached to the earth are torn from
it, while others in their immediate neighborhood are undisturbed. All those
effects are subject to infinite variation, according to the conducting powers of
the bodies, and of the parts of the earth to which they are attached.
If the great lightness of the clouds prevents them from falling sufficiently low
to be in electrical communication with the ground, then the electricity will be
discharged at a distance, attended by the flash of lightning and the roll of thun-
der. The electric tension will gradually diminish, rain will ensue, and the
cloud will rise.
The sound which sometimes accompanies this phenomenon is attributed,
by M. Peltier, to a number of small partial explosions, which take place be-
tween the cloud and ground. They are louder in the case of water-spouts
which traverse the land, because of the imperfectness of the conductors pre-
sented to them ; they lose their intensity over the sea because water is a bet-
ter conductor.
Considering the progress of the air under the different attractions and repul-
sions to which it is submitted, and the contrary and unequal currents encounter-
ing different obstacles, M. Peltier endeavors to explain how the direct motion
impressed on the air is changed into a gyratory motion more or less decided.
It results from this, that the same meteor may present at different moments an
example of direct and gyratory motion.
When the meteor is presented over water, its inductive action gives to the
water near the surface an opposite electricity, and a consequent attraction en-
sues. If the contrary fluids do not unite by explosion, the surface of the water
will swell upward at the several points of attraction, and the moment a dis-
charge takes place, and the contrary fluids unite by explosion, this elevation
subsides.
If, however, the electrified cloud is formed with points or prominences,
which favor the escape of the electric fluid, the water becomes charged with
the fluid descending from the cloud, and, being similarly electrified, is repelled )
by the cloud, and therefore depressed. Currents result from this in the water, '
which soon acquire a vortical motion.
On similar principles, M. Peltier explains the rapid disappearance of pools, ,
or small collections of water, the entire mass being electrified by induction,
and raised like trees and other objects.
The discharge of electricity through water may kill the fish contained in
it ; but the mere transmission of an electric current through the liquid without
explosion will not have this effect, unless a considerable elevation of tempera- >
ture takes place. An electric discharge passing near water, but not through <
it, may kill animals in it, by the effect of the lateral shock. By these pnnci- >
pies, many of the observed effects of water-spouts are explained.
When by induction the electrical tension of the ground and objects upon it
is elevated, the fluid with which it becomes charged will have a tendency to
escape by all pointed conductors, and to issue upward toward the cloud.
the conductor be imperfect, an elevation of temperature will attend these up-
ward currents, the effects of which will be apparent in the conductors by which
576 V/ATER-SPQUTS AND WHIRLWINDS.
they escape. Trees, plants, and vegetables, conducting the electric fluid im-
perfectly by means of tLeir sap, are dried up by this temperature ; and when
the elevation takes place suddenly, the vapor into which the sap is converted
splits the wood.
Such is a general outline of the theory of M. Peltier, by which the phenom-
ena attending water-spouts and whirlwinds are explained.
- ' Ǥ m '
1 ' 1 . -'
Q
171
L35
1859
v.l
P&ASci
Lardner, Dionysius
Popular lectures on
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