FOOTNOTES:

NATURE OF SOUND.

It is known that sound is conveyed to our organs of hearing by the air: a bell struck in a vacuum emits no sound, and even when the air is thin the sound is enfeebled. Hawksbee proved this by the air-pump; De Saussure fired a pistol at the top of Mont Blanc,—I have repeated the experiment myself, and found, with him, that the sound is feebler than at the sea level. Sound is not produced by anything projected through the air. The explosion of agun, for example, is sent forward by a motion of a totally different kind from that which animates the bullet projected from the gun: the latter is a motion oftranslation; the former, one ofvibration. To use a rough comparison, sound is projected through the air as a push is through a crowd; it is the propagation of awaveorpulse, each particle taking up the motion of its neighbour, and delivering it on to the next. These aërial waves enter the external ear, meet a membrane, the so-called tympanic membrane, which is drawn across the passage at a certain place, and break upon it as sea-waves do upon the shore. The membrane is shaken, its tremors are communicated to the auditory nerve, and transmitted by it to the brain, where they produce the impression to which we give the name of sound.

CAUSE OF MUSIC.

In the tumult of a city, pulses of different kinds strike irregularly upon the tympanum, and we call the effectnoise; but when a succession of impulses reach the earat regular intervalswe feel the effect asmusic. Thus, a vibrating string imparts a series of shocks to the air around it, which are transmitted with perfect regularity to the ear, and produce amusical note. When we hear the song of a soaring lark we may be sure that the entire atmosphere between us and the bird is filled with pulses, or undulations, or waves, as they are often called, produced by the little songster's organ of voice. This organ is a vibrating instrument, resembling, in principle, the reed of a clarionet. Let us suppose that we hear the song of a lark, elevated to a height of 500 feet in the air. Before this is possible, the bird must have agitated a sphere of air 1000 feet in diameter; that is to say, it must have communicated to 17,888 tons of air a motion sufficiently intense to be appreciated by our organs of hearing.

CAUSE OF PITCH.

Musical sounds differ inpitch: some notes are high and shrill, others low and deep. Boys are chosen as choristersto produce the shrill notes; men are chosen to produce the bass notes. Now, the sole difference here is, that the boy's organ vibratesmore rapidlythan the man's—it sends a greater number of impulses per second to the ear. In like manner, a short string emits a higher note than a long one, because it vibrates more quickly. The greater the number of vibrations which any instrument performs in a given time, the higher will be the pitch of the note produced. The reason why the hum of a gnat is shriller than that of a beetle is that the wings of the small insect vibrate more quickly than those of the larger one. We can, with suitable arrangements, make those sonorous vibrations visible to the eye;[A]and we also possess instruments which enable us to tell, with the utmost exactitude, the number of vibrations due to any particular note. By such instruments we learn that a gnat can execute many thousand flaps of its little wings in a second of time.

NATURE OF LIGHT.

In the study of nature the coarser phenomena, which come under the cognizance of the senses, often suggest to us the finer phenomena which come under the cognizance of the mind; and thus the vibrations which produce sound, and which, as has been stated, can be rendered visible to the eye by proper means, first suggested thatlightmight be due to a somewhat similar action. This is now the universal belief. A luminous body is supposed to have its atoms, or molecules, in a state of intense vibration. Themotions of the atoms are supposed to be communicated to a medium suited to their transmission, as air is to the transmission of sound. This medium is called theluminiferous ether, and the little billows excited in it speed through it with amazing celerity, enter the pupil of the eye, pass through the humours, and break upon the retina or optic nerve, which is spread out at the back of the eye. Hence the tremors they produce are transmitted along the nerve to the brain, where they announce themselves aslight. The swiftness with which the waves of light are propagated through the ether, is however enormously greater than that with which the waves of sound pass through the air. An aërial wave of sound travels at about the rate of 1100 feet in a second: a wave of light leaves 192,000 miles behind it in the same time.

CAUSE OF COLOUR.

Thus, then, in the case of sound, we have the sonorous body, the air, and the auditory nerve, concerned in the phenomenon; in the case of light, we have the luminous body, the ether, and the optic nerve. The fundamental analogy of sound and light is thus before us, and it is easily remembered. But we must push the analogy further. We know that the white light which comes to us from the sun is made up of an infinite number of coloured rays. By refraction with a prism we can separate those rays from each other, and arrange them in the series of colours which constitute the solar spectrum. The rainbow is an imperfect orimpurespectrum, produced by the drops of falling rain, but by prisms we can unravel the white light into pure red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Now, this spectrum is to the eye what the gamut is to the ear; each colour represents a note, andthe different colours represent notes of different pitch. The vibrations which produce the impression of red areslower, and the waves which they produce arelonger, than those to which we owe the sensation of violet; while thevibrations which excite the other colours are intermediate between these two extremes. This, then, is the second grand analogy between light and sound:Colour answers to Pitch. There is therefore truth in the figure when we say that the gentian of the Alps sings a shriller note than the wild rhododendron, and that the red glow of the mountains at sunset is of a lower pitch than the blue of the firmament at noon.

LENGTH OF ETHEREAL WAVES.

These are not fanciful analogies. To the mind of the philosopher these waves of ether are almost as palpable and certain as the waves of the sea, or the ripples on the surface of a lake. The length of the waves, both of sound and light, and the number of shocks which they respectively impart to the ear and eye, have been the subjects of the strictest measurement. Let us here go through a simple calculation. It has been found that 39,000 waves of red light placed end to end would make up an inch. How many inches are there in 192,000 miles? My youngest reader can make the calculation for himself, and find the answer to be 12,165,120,000 inches. It is evident that, if we multiply this number by 39,000, we shall obtain the number of waves of red light in 192,000 miles; this number is 474,439,680,000,000.All these waves enter the eye in one second; thus the expression "I see red colour," strictly means, "My eye is now in receipt of four hundred and seventy-four millions of millions of impulses per second." To produce the impression of violet light a still greater number of impulses is necessary; the wave-length of violet is the1/57500th part of an inch, and the number of shocks imparted in a second by waves of this length is, in round numbers, six hundred and ninety-nine millions of millions. The other colours of the spectrum, as already stated, rise gradually in pitch from the red to the violet.

A very curious analogy between the eye and ear mayhere be noticed. The range of seeing is different in different persons—some see a longer spectrum than others; that is to say, rays which are obscure to some are luminous to others. Dr. Wollaston pointed out a similar fact as regards hearing; the range of which differs in different individuals. Savart has shown that a good ear can hear a musical note produced by 8 shocks in a second; it can also hear a note produced by 24,000 shocks in a second; but there are ears in which the range is much more limited. It is possible indeed to produce a sound which shall be painfully shrill to one person, while it is quite unheard by another. I once crossed a Swiss mountain in company with a friend; a donkey was in advance of us, and the dull tramp of the animal was plainly heard by my companion; but to me this sound was almost masked by the shrill chirruping of innumerable insects which thronged the adjacent grass; my friend heard nothing of this, it lay quite beyond his range of hearing.

A third and most important analogy between sound and light is now to be noted; and it will be best understood by reference to something more tangible than either. When a stone is thrown into calm water a series of rings spread themselves around the centre of disturbance. If a second stone be thrown in at some distance from the first, the rings emanating from both centres will cross each other, and at those points where the ridge of one wave coincides with the ridge of another the water will be lifted to a greater height. At those points, on the contrary, where the ridge of one wave crosses the furrow of another, we have both obliterated, and the water restored to its ordinary level. Where two ridges or two furrows unite, we have a case ofcoincidence; but where a ridge and a furrow unite we have what is calledinterference. It is quite possible to send two systems of waves into the same channel, and to hold back one system a little, so that its ridges shallcoincide with the furrows of the other system. The "interference" would be here complete, and the waves thus circumstanced would mutually destroy each other, smooth water being the result. In this way, by the addition of motion to motion,restmay be produced.

LIGHT ADDED TO LIGHT MAKES DARKNESS.

In a precisely similar manner two systems of sonorous waves can be caused to interfere and mutually to destroy each other: thus, by adding sound to sound,silencemay be produced. Two beams of light also may be caused to interfere and effect their mutual extinction: thus, by adding light to light, we can producedarkness. Here indeed we have a critical analogy between sound and light—theone, in fact, which compels the most profound thinkers of the present day to assume that light, like sound, is a case of undulatory motion.

We see here the vision of the intellect prolonged beyond the boundaries of sense into the region of what might be considered mere imagination. But, unlike other imaginations, we can bring ours to the test of experiment; indeed, so great a mastery have we obtained over these waves, which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, that we can with mathematical certainty cause them to coincide or to interfere, to help each other or to destroy each other, at pleasure. It is perhaps possible to be a little more precise here. Let two stones—with a small distance between them—be dropped into water at the same moment; a system of circular waves will be formed round each stone. Let the distance from one little crest to the next following one be calledthe length of the wave, and now let us inquire what will take place at a point equally distant from the places where the two stones were dropped in. Fixing our attention upon the ridge of the first wave in each case, it is manifest that, as the water propagates both systems with the same velocity, the two foremost ridges will reach the point inquestion at the same moment; the ridge of one would therefore coincide with the ridge of the other, and the water at this point would be lifted to a height greater than that of either of the previous ridges.

COINCIDENCE AND INTERFERENCE.

Again, supposing that by any means we had it in our power to retard one system of waves so as to cause the first ridge of the one to be exactly one wave length behind the first ridge of the other, when they arrive at the point referred to. It is plain that the first ridge of the retarded system now falls in with the second ridge of the unretarded system, and we have another case of coincidence. A little reflection will show the same to be true when one system is retarded any number ofwhole wave-lengths; the first ridge of the retarded system will always, at the point referred to, coincide with aridgeof the unretarded system.

But now suppose the one system to be retarded onlyhalf a wave-length; it is perfectly clear that, in this case the first ridge of the retarded system would fall in with the firstfurrowof the unretarded system, and instead of coincidence we should have interference. One system, in fact, would tend to make a hollow at the point referred to, the other would tend to make a hill, and thus the two systems would oppose and neutralize each other, so that neither the hollow nor the hill would be produced; the water would maintain its ordinary level. What is here said of a single half-wave-length of retardation, is also true if the retardation amount to anyoddnumber of half-wave-lengths. In all such cases we should have the ridge of the one system falling in with the furrow of the other; a mutual destruction of the waves of both systems being the consequence. The same remarks apply when the point, instead of being equally distant from both stones, is an even or an odd number of semi-undulations farther from the one than from the other. In the former case we shouldhave coincidence, and in the latter case interference, at the point in question.

LIQUID WAVES.

To the eye of a person who understands these things, nothing can be more interesting than the rippling of water under certain circumstances. By the action of interference its surface is sometimes shivered into the most beautiful mosaic, shifting and trembling as if with a kind of visible music. When the tide advances over a sea-beach on a calm and sunny day, and its tiny ripples enter, at various points, the clear shallow pools which the preceding tide had left behind, the little wavelets run and climb and cross each other, and thus form a lovelychasing, which has its counterpart in the lines of light converged by the ripples upon the sand underneath. When waves are skilfully generated in a vessel of mercury, and a strong light reflected from the surface of the metal is received upon a screen, the most beautiful effects may be observed. The shape of the vessel determines, in part, the character of the figures produced; in a circular dish of mercury, for example, a disturbance at the centre propagates itself in circular waves, which after reflection again encircle the centre. If the point of disturbance be a little removed from the centre, the intersections of the direct and reflected waves produce the magnificent chasing shown in the annexed figure (16), which I have borrowed from the excellent work on Waves by the Messrs. Weber. The luminous figure reflected from such a surface is exceedingly beautiful. When the mercury is lightly struck by a glass point, in a direction concentric with the circumference of the vessel, the lines of light run round the vessel in mazy coils, interlacing and unravelling themselves in the most wonderful manner. If the vessel be square, a splendid mosaic is produced by the crossing of the direct and reflected waves. Description, however, can give but a feeble idea of these exquisite effects;—

"Thou canst not wave thy staff in the air,Or dip thy paddle in the lake,But it carves the brow of beauty there,And the ripples in rhymes the oar forsake."

CHASING PRODUCED BY WAVES.

Fig. 16. Chasing produced by waves.

EFFECT OF RETARDATION.

Now, all that we have said regarding the retardation of the waves of water, by a whole undulation and a semi-undulation, is perfectly applicable to the case of light. Two luminous points may be placed near to each other so as to resemble the two stones dropped into the water; and when the light of these is properly received upon a screen, or directly upon the retina, we find that at some places the action of the rays upon each other produces darkness, and at others augmented light. The former places are those where the rays emitted from one point are anoddnumber of semi-undulations in advance of the rays sent from the other; the latter places are those where the difference of path described by the rays is either nothing, or anevennumber ofsemi-undulations. Supposingaandb(Fig. 17) to be two such sources of light, ands ra screen on which the light falls; at a pointl, equally distant fromaandb, we havelight; at a pointd, wherea dis half an undulation longer thanb d, we have darkness; atl', wherea l'is a whole wave-length, or two semi-undulations, longer thanb l', we again have light; and at a pointd', where the difference is three semi-undulations, we have darkness; and thus we obtain a series of bright and dark spaces as we recede laterally from the central pointl.

Fig. 17. Diagram explanatory of Interference.

Let a bit of tin foil be closely pasted upon a piece of glass, and the edge of a penknife drawn across the foil so as to produce a slit. Looking through this slit at a small and distant light, we find the light spread out in a direction at right angles to the slit, and if the light looked at bemonochromatic, that is, composed of a single colour, we shall have a series of bright and dark bars corresponding to the points at which the rays from the different points of the slit alternately coincide and interfere upon the retina.By properly drawing a knife across a sheet of letter-paper a suitable slit may also be obtained; and those practised in such things can obtain the effect by looking through their fingers or their eyelashes.

INTERFERENCE SPECTRA, PRODUCED BY DIFFRACTION.Fig.18.

CHROMATIC EFFECTS.

But if the light looked at be white, the light of a candle for example, or of a jet of gas, instead of having a series of bright and dark bars, we have the barscoloured. And see how beautifully this harmonizes with what has been already said regarding the different lengths of the waves which produce different colours. Looking again atFig. 17we see that a certain obliquity is necessary to cause one ray to be a whole undulation in advance of the other at the pointl'; but it is perfectly manifest that the obliquity must depend upon the length of the undulation; a long undulation would require a greater obliquity than a short one; red light, for example, requires a greater obliquity than blue light; so that if the pointl'represents the place where the first bar of red light would be at its maximum strength, the maximum for blue would lie a little to the left ofl'; the different colours are in this way separated from each other, and exhibit themselves as distinct fringes when a distant source of white light is regarded through a narrow slit.

By varying the shape of the aperture we alter the form of the chromatic image. A circular aperture, for example, placed in front of a telescope through which a point of white light is regarded, is seen surrounded by a concentric system of coloured rings. If we multiply our slits or apertures the phenomena augment in complexity and splendour. To give some notion of this I have copied from the excellent work of M. Schwerd the annexed figure (Fig. 18) which represents the gorgeous effect observed when a distant point of light is looked at through two gratings with slits of different widths.[B]A bird's featherrepresents a peculiar system of slits, and the effect observed on properly looking through it is extremely interesting.

COLOURS OF THIN FILMS.

There are many ways by which the retardation necessary to the production of interference is effected. The splendid colours of a soap-bubble are entirely due to interference; the beam falling upon the transparent film is partially reflected at its outer surface, but a portion of it enters the film and is reflected at itsinnersurface. The latter portion having crossed the film and returned, is retarded, in comparison with the former, and, if the film be of suitable thickness, these two beams will clash and extinguish each other, while another thickness will cause the beams to coincide and illuminate the film with a light of greater intensity. From what has been said it must be manifest that to make two red beams thus coincide a thicker film would be required than would be necessary for two blue or green beams; thus, when the thickness of the bubble is suitable for the development of red, it is not suitable for the development of green, blue, &c.; the consequence is that we have different colours at different parts of the bubble. Owing to its compactness and to its being shaded by a covering of débris from the direct heat of the sun, the ice underneath the moraines of glaciers appears sometimes of a pitchy blackness. While cutting such ice with my axe I have often been surprised and delighted by sudden flashes of coloured light which broke like fire from the mass. These flashes were due to internal rupture, by which fissures were produced as thin as the film of a soap-bubble; the colours being due to the interference of the light reflected from the opposite sides of the fissures.

If spirit of turpentine, or olive oil, be thrown upon water, it speedily spreads in a thin film over the surface,and the most gorgeous chromatic phenomena may be thus produced. Oil of lemons is also peculiarly suited to this experiment. If water be placed in a tea-tray, and light of sufficient intensity be suffered to fall upon it, this light will be reflected from the upper and under surfaces of the film of oil, and the colours thus produced may be received upon a screen, and seen at once by many hundred persons. If the oil of cinnamon be used, fine colours are also obtained, and the breaking up of this film exhibits a most interesting case of molecular action. By using a kind of varnish, instead of oil, Mr. Delarue has imparted such tenacity to these films that they may be removed from the water on which they rest and preserved for any length of time. By such films the colours of certain beetles, and of the wings of certain insects, may be accurately imitated; and a rook's feather may be made to shine with magnificent iridescences. The colours of tempered metals, and the beautiful metallochrome of Nobili are also due to a similar cause.

DIFFRACTION.

These colours are called the colours ofthin plates, and are distinguished in treatises on optics from the coloured bars and fringes above referred to, which are produced bydiffraction, or the bending of the waves round the edge of an object. One result of this bending, which is of interest to us, was obtained by the celebrated Thomas Young. Permitting a beam of sunlight to enter a dark room through an aperture made with a fine needle, and placing in the path of the beam a bit of card one-thirtieth of an inch wide, he found the shadow of this card, or rather the line on which its shadow might be supposed to fall, alwaysbright; and he proved the effect to be due to the bending of the waves of ether round the two edges of the card, and their coincidence at the other side. It has, indeed, been shown by M. Poisson, that the centre of the shadow of a small circular opaque disk which stands inthe way of a beam diverging from a point is exactly as much illuminated as if the disk were absent. The singular effects described by M. Necker in the letter quoted at page178at once suggest themselves here; and we see how possible it is for the solar rays, in grazing a distant tree, so to bend round it as to produce upon the retina, where shadow might be expected, the impression of a tree of light.[C]Another effect of diffraction is especially interesting to us at present. Let the seed of lycopodium be scattered over a glass plate, or even like a cloud in the air, and let a distant point of light be regarded through it; the luminous point will appear surrounded by a series of coloured rings, and when the light is intense, like the electric or the Drummond light, the effect is exceedingly fine.

CLOUD IRIDESCENCE, ETC., EXPLAINED.

And now for the application of these experiments. I have already mentioned a series of coloured rings observed around the sun by Mr. Huxley and myself from the Rhone glacier; I have also referred to the cloud iridescences on the Aletschhorn; and to the colours observed during my second ascent of Monte Rosa, the magnificence of which is neither to be rendered by pigments nor described in words. All these splendid phenomena are, I believe, produced by diffraction, the vesicles or spherules of water in the case of the cloud acting the part of the sporules in the case of the lycopodium. The coloured fringe which surrounds theSpirit of the Brocken, and the spectra which I have spoken of as surrounding the sun, are also produced by diffraction. By the interference of their rays in the earth's atmosphere the stars can momentarily quench themselves; and probably to an intermittent action of this kind their twinkling, and the swift chromatic changes already mentioned, are due. Does not all this sound more like a fairytale than the sober conclusions of science? What effort of the imagination could transcend the realities here presented to us? The ancients had their spheral melodies, but have not we ours, which only want a sense sufficiently refined to hear them? Immensity is filled with this music; wherever a star sheds its light its notes are heard. Our sun, for example, thrills concentric waves through space, and every luminous point that gems our skies is surrounded by a similar system. I have spoken of the rising, climbing and crossing of the tiny ripples of a calm tide upon a smooth strand; but what are they to those intersecting ripples of the "uncontinented deep" by which Infinity is engine-turned! Crossing solar and stellar distances, they bring us the light of sun and stars; thrilled back from our atmosphere, they give us the blue radiance of the sky; rounding liquid spherules, they clash at the other side, and the survivors of the tumult bear to our vision the wondrous cloud-dyes of Monte Rosa.

FOOTNOTES:[A]The vibrations of the air of a room in which a musical instrument is sounded may be made manifest by the way in which fine sand arranges itself upon a thin stretched membrane over which it is strewn; and indeed Savart has thus rendered visible the vibrations of the tympanum itself. Every trace of sand was swept from a paper drum held in the clock-tower of Westminster when the Great Bell was sounded. Another way of showing the propagation of aërial pulses is to insert a small gas jet into a vertical glass tube about a foot in length, in which the flame may be caused to burn tranquilly. On pitching the voice to the note of an open tube a foot long, the little flame quivers, stretches itself, and responds by producing a clear melodious note of the same pitch as that which excited it. The flame will continue its song for hours without intermission.[B]I am not aware whether in his own country, or in any other, a recognition at all commensurate with the value of the performance has followed Schwerd's admirable essay entitled 'The Phenomena of Diffraction deduced from the Theory of Undulation.'[C]I think, however, that the strong irradiation from the glistening sides of the twigs and branches must also contribute to the result.

[A]The vibrations of the air of a room in which a musical instrument is sounded may be made manifest by the way in which fine sand arranges itself upon a thin stretched membrane over which it is strewn; and indeed Savart has thus rendered visible the vibrations of the tympanum itself. Every trace of sand was swept from a paper drum held in the clock-tower of Westminster when the Great Bell was sounded. Another way of showing the propagation of aërial pulses is to insert a small gas jet into a vertical glass tube about a foot in length, in which the flame may be caused to burn tranquilly. On pitching the voice to the note of an open tube a foot long, the little flame quivers, stretches itself, and responds by producing a clear melodious note of the same pitch as that which excited it. The flame will continue its song for hours without intermission.

[B]I am not aware whether in his own country, or in any other, a recognition at all commensurate with the value of the performance has followed Schwerd's admirable essay entitled 'The Phenomena of Diffraction deduced from the Theory of Undulation.'

[C]I think, however, that the strong irradiation from the glistening sides of the twigs and branches must also contribute to the result.

RADIANT HEAT.

Thus, then, we have been led from Sound to Light, and light now in its turn will lead us toRadiant Heat; for in the order in which they are here mentioned the conviction arose that they are all three different kinds of motion. It has been said that the beams of the sun consist of rays of different colours, but this is not a complete statement of the case. The sun emits a multitude of rays which are perfectly non-luminous; and the same is true, in a still greater degree, of our artificial sources of illumination. Measured by the quantity of heat which they produce, 90 per cent. of the rays emanating from a flame of oil areobscure; while 99 out of every 100 of those which emanate from an alcohol flame are of the same description.[A]

OBSCURE RAYS.

In fact, the visible solar spectrum simply embraces an interval of rays of which the eye is formed to take cognizance, but it by no means marks the limits of solar action. Beyond the violet end of the spectrum we have obscure rays capable of producing chemical changes, and beyond the red we have rays possessing a high heating power, but incapable of exciting the impression of light. This latter fact was first established by Sir William Herschel, and it has been amply corroborated since.

The belief now universally prevalent is, that the rays of heat differ from the rays of light simply as one colour differs from another. As the waves which produce red are longer than those which produce yellow, so the waves which produce this obscure heat are longer than those which produce red. In fact, it may be shown that the longest waves never reach the retina at all; they are completely absorbed by the humours of the eye.

What is true of the sun's obscure rays is also true of calorific rays emanating from any obscure source,—from our own bodies, for example, or from the surface of a vessel containing boiling water. We must, in fact, figure a warm body also as having its particles in a state of vibration. When these motions are communicated from particle to particle of the body the heat is said to beconducted; when, on the contrary, the particles transmit their vibrations through the surrounding ether, the heat is said to beradiant. This radiant heat, though obscure, exhibits a deportment exactly similar to light. It may be refracted and reflected, and collected in the focus of a mirror or of a suitable lens. The principle of interference also applies to it, so that by adding heat to heat we can producecold. The identity indeed is complete throughout, and, recurringto the analogy of sound, we might define this radiant heat to be light of too low a pitch to be visible.

I have thus far spoken ofobscureheat only; but the selfsame ray may excite both light and heat. The red rays of the spectrum possess a very high heating power. It was once supposed that the heat of the spectrum was an essence totally distinct from its light; but a profounder knowledge dispels this supposition, and leads us to infer that the selfsame ray, falling upon the nerves of feeling, excites heat, and falling upon the nerves of seeing, excites light. As the same electric current, if sent round a magnetic needle, along a wire, and across a conducting liquid, produces different physical effects, so also the same agent acting upon different organs of the body affects our consciousness differently.

FOOTNOTES:[A]Melloni.

[A]Melloni.

HEAT A KIND OF MOTION.

Heat has been defined in the foregoing section as a motion of the molecules or atoms of a body; but though the evidence in favour of this view is at present overwhelming, I do not ask the reader to accept it as a certainty, if he feels sceptically disposed. In this case, I would only ask him to accept it as a symbol. Regarded as a mere physical image, a kind of paper-currency of the mind, convertible, in due time, into the gold of truth, the hypothesis will be found exceedingly useful.

All known bodies possess more or less of this molecular motion, and all bodies are communicating it to the ether in which they are immersed. Ice possesses it. Ice before it melts attains a temperature of 32° Fahr., but the substance in winter often possesses a temperature far below 32°, so that in rising to 32° it iswarmed. In experimentingwith ice I have often had occasion to cool it to 100° and more below the freezing point, and to warm it afterwards up to 32°.

If then we stand before a wall of ice, the wall radiates heat to us, and we also radiate heat to it; but the quantity which we radiate being greater than that which the ice radiates, we lose more than we gain, and are consequently chilled. If, on the contrary, we stand before a warm stove, a system of exchanges also takes place; but here the quantity we receive is in excess of the quantity lost, and we are warmed by the difference.

In like manner the earth radiates heat by day and by night into space, and against the sun, moon, and stars. By day, however, the quantity received is greater than the quantity lost, and the earth is warmed; by night the conditions are reversed; the earth radiates more heat than is sent to her by the moon and stars, and she is consequently cooled.

But here an important point is to be noted:—the earth receives the heat of the sun, moon, and stars, in great part asluminousheat, but she gives it out asobscureheat. I do not now speak of the heat reflected by the earth into space, as the light of the moon is to us; but of the heat which, after it has been absorbed by the earth, and has contributed to warm it, is radiated into space, as if the earth itself were its independent source. Thus we may properly say that the heat radiated from the earth isdifferent in qualityfrom that which the earth has received from the sun.

QUALITIES OF HEAT.

In one particular especially does this difference of quality show itself; besides being non-luminous, the heat radiated from the earth is more easily intercepted and absorbed by almost all transparent substances. A vast portion of the sun's rays, for example, can pass instantaneously through a thick sheet of water; gunpowder could easily be fired by the heat of the sun's rays convergedby passing through a thick water lens; the drops upon leaves in greenhouses often act as lenses, and cause the sun to burn the leaves upon which they rest. But with regard to the rays of heat emanating from an obscure source, they are all absorbed by a layer of water less than the 20th of an inch in thickness: water is opaque to such rays, and cuts them off almost as effectually as a metallic screen. The same is true of other liquids, and also of many transparent solids.

THE ATMOSPHERE LIKE A RATCHET.

Assuming the same to be true of gaseous bodies, that they also intercept the obscure rays much more readily than the luminous ones, it would follow that while the sun's rays penetrate our atmosphere with freedom, the change which they undergo in warming the earth deprives them in a measure of this penetrating power. They can reach the earth, butthey cannot get back; thus the atmosphere acts the part of a ratchet-wheel in mechanics; it allows of motion in one direction, but prevents it in the other.

De Saussure, Fourier, M. Pouillet, and Mr. Hopkins have developed this speculation, and drawn from it consequences of the utmost importance; but it nevertheless rested upon a basis of conjecture. Indeed some of the eminent men above-named deemed its truth beyond the possibility of experimental verification. Melloni showed that for a distance of 18 or 20 feet the absorption of obscure rays by the atmosphere was absolutely inappreciable. Hence, thetotalabsorption being so small as to elude even Melloni's delicate tests, it was reasonable to infer thatdifferencesof absorption, if such existed at all, must be far beyond the reach of the finest means which we could apply to detect them.

DIFFERENCES OF ABSORPTION BY GASES.

This exclusion of one of the three states of material aggregation from the region of experiment was, however, by no means satisfactory; for our right to infer, from thedeportment of a solid or a liquid towards radiant heat, the deportment of a gas, is by no means evident. In both liquids and solids we have the molecules closely packed, and more or less chained by the force of cohesion; in gases, on the contrary, they are perfectly free, and widely separated. How do we know that the interception of radiant heat by liquids and solids may not be due to an arrangement and comparative rigidity of their parts, which gases do not at all share? The assumption which took no note of such a possibility seemed very insecure, and called for verification.

My interest in this question was augmented by the fact, that the assumption referred to lies, as will be seen, at the root of the glacier question. I therefore endeavoured to fill the gap, and to do for gases and vapours what had been already so ably done for liquids and solids by Melloni. I tried the methods heretofore pursued, and found them unavailing; oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, and atmospheric air, examined by such methods, showed no action upon radiant heat. Nature was dumb, but the question occurred, "Had she been addressed in the proper language?" If the experimentalist is convinced of this, he will rest content even with a negative; but the absence of this conviction is always a source of discomfort, and a stimulus to try again.

The principle of the method finally applied is all that can here be referred to; and it, I hope, will be quite intelligible. Two beams of heat, from two distinct sources, were allowed to fall upon the same instrument,[A]and to contend there for mastery. When both beams were perfectly equal, they completely neutralized each other's action; but when one of them was in any sensible degree stronger than the other, the predominance of the former was shown by the instrument. It was so arranged thatone of the conflicting beams passed through a tube which could be exhausted of air, or filled with any gas; thus varying at pleasure the medium through which it passed. The question then was, supposing the two beams to be equal when the tube was filled with air, will the exhausting of the tube disturb the equality? The answer was affirmative; the instrument at once showed that a greater quantity of heat passed through the vacuum than through the air.

The experiment was so arranged that the effect thus produced was very large as measured by the indications of the instrument. But the action of the simple gases, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, was incomparably less than that produced by some of the compound gases, while these latter again differed widely from each other. Vapours exhibited differences of equal magnitude. The experiments indeed proved that gaseous bodies varied among themselves, as to their power of transmitting radiant heat, just as much as liquids and solids. It was in the highest degree interesting to observe how a gas or vapour of perfect transparency, as regards light, acted like an opaque screen upon the heat. To the eye, the gas within the tube might be as invisible as the air itself, while to the radiant heat it behaved like a cloud which it was almost impossible to penetrate.

SELECTED HEAT.

Applying the same method, I have found that from the sun, from the electric light, or from the lime-light, a large amount of heat can be selected, which is unaffected not only by air, but by the most energetic gases that experiment has revealed to me; while this same heat, when it has itsqualitychanged by being rendered obscure, is powerfully intercepted. Thus the bold and beautiful speculation above referred to has been made an experimental fact; the radiant heat of the sun does certainly pass through the atmosphere to the earth withgreater facility than the radiant heat of the earth can escape into space.

POSSIBLE HEAT OF NEPTUNE.

It is probable that, were the earth unfurnished with this atmospheric swathing, its conditions of temperature would be such as to render it uninhabitable by man; and it is also probable that a suitable atmosphere enveloping the most distant planet might render it, as regards temperature, perfectly habitable. If the planet Neptune, for example, be surrounded by an atmosphere which permits the solar and stellar rays to pass towards the planet, but cuts off the escape of the warmth which they excite, it is easy to see that such an accumulation of heat may at length take place as to render the planet a comfortable habitation for beings constituted like ourselves.[B]

But let us not wander too far from our own concerns. Where radiant heat is allowed to fall upon an absorbing substance, a certain thickness of the latter is always necessary for the absorption. Supposing we place a thin film of glass before a source of heat, a certain percentage of the heat will pass through the glass, and the remainder will be absorbed. Let the transmitted portion fall upon a second film similar to the first, a smaller percentage than before will be absorbed. A third plate would absorb still less, a fourth still less; and, after having passed through a sufficient number of layers, the heat would be sosiftedthat all the rays capable of being absorbed by glass would be abstracted from it. Suppose all these films to be placed together so as to form a single thick plate of glass, it is evident that the plate must act upon the heat which falls upon it, in such a manner that the major portion is absorbednear the surface at which the heat enters. This has been completely verified by experiment.

COLD OF UPPER ATMOSPHERE.

Applying this to the heat radiated from the earth, it ismanifest that the greatest quantity of this heat will be absorbed by the lowest atmospheric strata. And here we find ourselves brought, by considerations apparently remote, face to face with the fact upon which the existence of all glaciers depends, namely, the comparative coldness of the upper regions of the atmosphere. The sun's rays can pass in a great measure through these regions without heating them; and the earth's rays, which they might absorb, hardly reach them at all, but are intercepted by the lower portions of the atmosphere.[C]

Another cause of the greater coldness of the higher atmosphere is the expansion of the denser air of the lower strata when it ascends. The dense air makes room for itself by pushing back the lighter and less elastic air which surrounds it:it does work, and, to perform this work, a certain amount of heat must be consumed. It is the consumption of this heat—its absolute annihilation as heat—that chills the expanded air, and to this action a share of the coldness of the higher atmosphere must undoubtedly be ascribed. A third cause of the difference of temperature is the large amount of heat communicated,by way of contact, to the air of the earth's surface; and a fourth and final cause is the loss endured by the highest strata through radiation into space.

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