CHAPTER XI

THE INEVITABLE ETHER

Ether is the fundamental postulate of physics. Its existence, nowise

apparent, is in all manner of ways implied. The properties that must

be assigned to it are certainly arduous of conception. We need the

aid of forced analogies to enable us to realize, even imperfectly and

indistinctly, the mode in which it discharges functions obviously

somehow discharged. But in the last resort everything is obscure;

if our thought-borings go deep enough, they always reach the

incomprehensible.

The original ether was the 'quintessence' of the ancients--a kind of

matter vaguely imagined as pure and incorruptible enough to serve for

the raw material of the heavenly bodies, the four common elements being

reserved exclusively for sublunary use. The distinction, however,

eventually broke down. All the spheres, from the _primum mobile_ to

the very surface of our low earth, are pervaded by a subtle mode of

action, demanding for its transmission machinery of a finer kind than

could be constructed out of gross everyday matter. The phenomena of

light, when they came to be attentively studied, imperatively required

a medium, universally diffused, evasive to sense, accessible only by

processes of reasoning. Hooke and Newton accordingly brought the ether

through the Horn Gate of dreamland into a region of reality, where it

became a subject of legitimate speculation to men of science. The task,

nevertheless, of definitely specifying its qualities was not taken

seriously in hand until the beginning of the nineteenth century, when

the establishment of the undulatory theory of light supplied tangible

holding-ground for ideas regarding the vehicle of propagation, and

rendered the ether a fixture of thought.

A great deal is demanded from it. We cannot afford to set up an

establishment of ethers; one factotum must suffice. Incongruous offices

are devolved upon it. It has to be Atlas and Mercury in one. It is

the universal supporter and the universal messenger. Whatever kind of

influence or form of energy can pass from world to world is conveyed

by its means. If 'action at a distance' be inadmissible (as Newton

himself held it to be), the pull of gravity must be exerted through

a medium; and common-sense insists upon its identification with the

transmitting medium of light, as well as upon the identification of

that with the transmitting medium of electricity. A genuine conformity

to these demands of reason is vouched for, not only by Hertz's

discovery that an electrical explosion starts an undulatory disturbance

indistinguishable, except in scale, from luminous waves; but also by

Dr. Lorentz's indicated conclusion that strains of the same ethereal

essence bear the all-pervading mandates of gravity. The unity of the

medium may, then, be regarded as finally ascertained; the complex

interactions of sundry different 'fluids' need no longer be taken into

account. To provide one with the capabilities implied by the services

we perceive it to render is, indeed, a sufficiently formidable task.

In popular apprehension the ether of space figures as a finer kind of

air. No idea could be more misleading. The elasticity by which air

transmits the longitudinal waves of sound is totally different from the

elasticity by which ether propagates the transversal waves of light.

Air yields to pressure; disturbance hence produces in it undulatory

condensations due to oscillations of the gaseous molecules along the

line in which the audible commotion travels. Ether, on the contrary,

appears to be entirely incompressible; it conveys no vibrations

directed lengthwise. Now this is extremely perplexing. We have no

experience of a kind of matter absolutely rigid to pressure, while

yielding, albeit with intense reluctance, to distortional stresses.

A jelly-like solid makes the nearest, though a very distant, approach

to fulfilling the indispensable conditions; and a solid ether was

accordingly in vogue until long past the middle of the nineteenth

century. For a solid it had very peculiar qualities; that, for

instance, of offering no resistance to motion. It was, in truth,

obviously a mere temporary expedient--a scientific fiction which

might pass muster until replaced by something corresponding less

distantly with the fundamental fact. At last, on the advent of the

electro-magnetic theory of light and the modified conceptions which it

brought in its train, the solid ether withdrew behind the scenes. Its

properties, though inconsistent and unconvincing, had not been chosen

arbitrarily; they were imposed by the necessities of the situation;

and when these varied, speculators naturally had recourse to fresh

inventions.

The most plausible is that of a medium neither solid, liquid, nor

gaseous in the ordinary sense, but in the ideal state of a 'perfect

fluid.' Out of such an ether Lord Kelvin, with exquisite ingenuity,

constructed his 'vortex-atoms,' which 'had their day and ceased to be.'

Other ideas now prevail. 'The present tendency of physical science,'

the late Mr. Preston wrote in 1890,[74] 'is to regard all the phenomena

of Nature, and even matter itself, as manifestations of energy stored

in the ether.' The more closely we look into the things around us,

the more strongly the persuasion is forced upon us that what we call

ether, electricity, and matter are really varied forms of one primal

substance.

Two comprehensive schemes of molecular physics, resting upon the basis

of this unifying thought, have lately been elaborated--one by Dr.

Larmor, the other by Professor Osborne Reynolds. They have nothing in

common beyond the largeness of their synthesis. In every respect they

are radically unlike, save in regarding the intangible ether as the

one material reality. Dr. Larmor, however, is not quite confidently

explanatory. He presents no cut-and-dried theory of the universe; its

haunting mysteries are not ignored in his efforts to rationalize them.

He is vividly aware of the difficulties besetting the endowment of the

ether with the type of elasticity which it is recognised to possess. He

can only surmise that it results from particular modes of motion--from

'kinetic stability' ensuing upon a special dynamical state. The medium

may thus be thought of as pervaded by 'a structure of tangled or

interlaced vortex filaments, which might resist deformation by forming

a stable configuration.'[75] But the details of any such scheme of

action are evidently far too intricate to be easily unravelled; what

concerns us here is to point out that no simple structureless fluid can

avail to maintain cosmical communications.

Reduced to its lowest terms, Dr. Larmor's conception of the ether is

that of a 'rotationally elastic medium.'[76] In other words, it resists

being turned round an axis. The forces continually acting upon it are

nevertheless of a gyratory nature; and hence arise strains, betrayed

to our apprehension by electrical manifestations. Each 'electron' is

held to be the nucleus of some kind of distortion or displacement,[77]

and carries with it, as it moves, a field of force. Out of these 'point

charges' material atoms are variously built up. They are 'structures in

the ether,' encompassed by 'atmospheres of ethereal strain,' not--as

they were formerly taken to be--'small bodies exerting direct action at

a distance on other atoms according to extraneous laws of force.'[78]

Obviously the new view brings to the front extremely subtle questions

regarding the nature of 'dynamical transmission'[79]--what the

propagation of energy essentially consists in, and by what mechanism

it is effected; and they are, for the present, unanswerable.

Electricity is, on the theory we are attempting to sketch, positive

or negative according to the direction of the originating strain.

A positive electron might be imagined to resemble a spiral nebula

of the right-handed sort, a negative one a left-handed spiral, or

_vice versâ_. The analogy is, perhaps, fanciful; yet it helps towards

obtaining a mental picture of objects which, insignificant and elusive

though they appear, may be the initials and ultimates of this strange

world.

The forces, at any rate, by which it is at present kept going are

evoked _ad libitum_ by the pioneers of modern research from the

ethereal plenum. The actualities of matter are potentialities in the

ether. 'All mass,' in Professor J. J. Thomson's opinion, 'is mass of

the ether, all momentum, momentum of the ether, and all kinetic energy,

kinetic energy of the ether.[80] Only if this be so,' he adds, 'the

density of the ether must be immensely greater than that of any known

substance.'

The condition is startling, but in dealing with such subjects we must

be prepared to meet with anomalies. They come, as the ghosts appeared

to Odysseus in Hades, at first one by one, then in an awe-inspiring

swarm. Yet, in spite of the perplexities they occasion, we can discern,

with growing sureness of insight, the amazing reality of the universal

medium. It is, in a manner, the only reality. For what is manifest to

sense is subject to change. We can conceive that the visible framework

of material existence might crumble and dissolve, like 'the baseless

fabric of a vision,' into seeming nothingness. But a substance that is

inapprehensible is, to our limited ideas, imperishable. The ether is

assuredly the seat of intense activities, which lie at the root, most

likely, of all the processes in Nature. An absolutely uniform medium,

however, can scarcely be imagined to energize or react. Some kind of

heterogeneity it must possess; and the heterogeneity produced, in Dr.

Larmor's view, by strains, is associated, in Professor Reynolds's

theory, with intrinsic texture.

The 'Sub-Mechanics of the Universe' are here made to depend upon the

fitting together of ineffably small, ideally rigid grains. A misfit

gives rise to matter, which might hence be defined as 'ether out of

joint'; and the misfit can be propagated endlessly from one range of

granules to the next. This propagation through the ether of an abnormal

arrangement of its constituent particles, without any transference of

the particles themselves, explains the phenomena of matter in motion. A

concrete existence belongs to the ether alone. It is composed of round

aboriginal atoms, the diameters of which measure the _seven hundred

thousand millionth part_ of the wave-length of violet light.[81] They

are packed closely together, yet not so closely but that free paths are

left to them averaging in length the _four hundred thousand millionth

part_ of their diameters.

This inconceivably small relative motion suffices, nevertheless, to

render the medium elastic; is, indeed, 'the only cause of elasticity

in the universe, and hence is the prime cause of the elasticity of

matter.' The medium so formed is ten thousand times denser than

water; it exerts a mean pressure of 750,000 tons on the square inch;

the coefficient of its transverse elasticity is 9 + 10^{24} (in C.G.S.

units); which gives a velocity of transmission identical with that

of light for vibrations of the same type, while longitudinal waves

are propagated 2·4 times more rapidly. The scheme further includes a

plausible rationale of gravity and of electrical effects; so that there

is much to warrant the claim of its author to have excogitated 'the one

and only conceivable purely mechanical system capable of accounting for

all the physical evidence, as we know it, in the universe.'

The machine, to be sure, lacks motive power; but that is a want which

no human ingenuity can supply. Its source is obscured in the primal

mystery of creation. And as regards the preliminary assumptions

required for the constitution of an atomic ether, inclined though we

might be to cavil at them, we should, perhaps, act more wisely in

following Dr. Larmor's advice by abstaining from attempts to explain

'the simple group of relations which have been found to define the

activity of the ether. We should rather rest satisfied,' he tells us,

'with having attained to their exact dynamical correlation, just as

geometry explores or correlates, without explaining, the descriptive

and metric properties of space.'[82] Yet one cannot help remarking

that the properties of space are not ordinarily modified to suit the

needs of demonstration, while those of the ethereal medium are varied

at the arbitrary discretion of rival cosmogonists. In the future, when

they come to be more clearly ascertained, they will, perhaps, form

the basis of a genuine new science. Already, the study of ethereal

physics excites profound interest and attention. Nor is it possible to

ignore the gathering indications that it will impose qualifications

upon principles consecrated by authority and hitherto regarded as

fundamental.

The grand modern tenet of the conservation of energy, for example,

may need a gloss; it may prove to be admissible only with certain

restrictions. The second bulwark of the scientific edifice is even more

seriously undermined. For the 'strain theory' of atomic constitution

necessarily includes the conception of opposite distortions

corresponding to positive and negative electricity. And the further

inference lies close at hand that these, by combining, may neutralize

one another. The coalescence, then, of a positive and negative electron

should result in the smoothing out of the complementary strains they

stand for; and there would ensue the annihilation of a pair of the

supposed ultimates of matter. The event might be called the statical

equivalent of the destruction of light through interference. That

its possibility should be contemplated even by the most adventurous

thinkers is a circumstance fraught with meaning as to the subversive

tendencies of recent research.

Already, in May, 1902, Professor J. A. Fleming[83] pointed out that 'if

the electron is a strain-centre in the ether, then corresponding to

every negative electron there must be a positive one. In other words,

electrons must exist in pairs of such kind that their simultaneous

presence at one point would result in the annihilation of both of

them.' The consequence thus viewed in the abstract finds concrete

realization, if Mr. Jeans's suggestion be adopted,[84] in the processes

of radio-activity, which possibly consist 'in an increase of material

energy at the expense of the destruction of a certain amount of matter.

There would, therefore, be conservation neither of mass nor of material

energy.'

No longer ago than at the opening of the present century such notions

would have been scouted as extravagant and paradoxical; now there

is no escape from giving them grave and respectful consideration.

Scientific reason has ceased to be outraged by hypotheses regarding

the disappearance of mass and the development of energy. Mass and

energy may, after all, be interchangeable; they are, at any rate, kept

less rigidly apart in our meditations than used formerly to be the

case. Nor can we assert with any confidence that partial subsidences

into or emergences from the surrounding medium are for either a sheer

impossibility; the universal framework, on the contrary, presents

itself to us in the guise of an iridescent fountain leaping upward

from, and falling back towards, the ethereal reservoir.

To the very brink of that mysterious ocean the science of the twentieth

century has brought us; and it is with a thrill of wondering awe that

we stand at its verge and survey its illimitable expanse. The glory

of the heavens is transitory, but the impalpable, invisible ether

inconceivably remains. Such as it is to-day, it already was when the

_Fiat Lux_ was spoken; its beginning must have been coeval with that

of time. Nothing or everything, according to the manner in which it

is accounted of, it is evasive of common notice, while obtrusive to

delicate scrutiny. Its negative qualities are numerous and baffling.

It has no effect in impeding motion; it does not perceptibly arrest,

absorb, or scatter light; it pervades, and may even share in the

displacements of gross matter; yet its motion (if it do move), is

without effect on the velocity of light.

Looking, however, below the surface of things, we find the

semi-fabulous quintessence to be unobtrusively doing all the world's

work. It embodies the energies of motion; is, perhaps, in a very real

sense, the true _primum mobile_; the potencies of matter are rooted in

it; the substance of matter is latent in it; universal intercourse is

maintained by means of the ether; cosmic influences can be exerted only

through its aid; unfelt, it is the source of solidity; unseen, it is

the vehicle of light; itself non-phenomenal, it is the indispensable

originator of phenomena. A contradiction in terms, it points the

perennial moral that what eludes the senses is likely to be more

permanently and intensely actual than what strikes them.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 74: _Theory of Light_, second edition, p. 28.]

[Footnote 75: _Encyclopædia Britannica_, vol. xxv., p. 106.]

[Footnote 76: _Report of the British Association_, 1900, p. 626.]

[Footnote 77: _Æther and Matter_, p. 26.]

[Footnote 78: _Nature_, vol. xlii., p. 453.]

[Footnote 79: Larmor, _Report British Association_, 1900, p. 625.]

[Footnote 80: _Electricity and Matter_, p. 51.]

[Footnote 81: _The Structure of the Universe_, Rede Lecture, June 10,

1902, p. 14.]

[Footnote 82: _Nature_, June, vol. lxii., p. 451.]

[Footnote 83: _Proceedings of the Royal Institution_, vol. xvii., p.

177.]

[Footnote 84: _Nature_, vol. lxx., p. 101.]

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