CHAPTER II

_Exploring the Atom_

So far our exploration of the universe has been in the direction from

man to bigger things than man; we have been exploring ranges of space

which dwarf man and his home in space into utter insignificance. Yet

we have explored only about half the total range of the universe;

an almost equal range awaits exploration in the direction of the

infinitely small. We appreciate only half of the infinite richness of

the world around us until we extend our survey down to the smallest

units of matter. This survey has been first the task, and now the

brilliant achievement, of modern physics.

It may perhaps be asked why an account of modern astronomy should

concern itself with this other end of the universe. The answer is

that the stars are something more than huge inert masses; they are

machines in action, generating and emitting the radiation by which we

see them. We shall best understand their mechanism by studying the ways

in which radiation is generated and emitted on earth, and this takes

us right into the heart of modern atomic physics. In the present book

we naturally cannot attempt to cover the whole of this new field of

knowledge; we shall concern ourselves only with those parts which are

important for the interpretation of astronomical results.

ATOMIC THEORY

As far back as the fifth century before Christ, Greek philosophy was

greatly exercised by the question of whether in the last resort the

ultimate substance of the universe was continuous or discontinuous. We

stand on the sea-shore, and all around us see stretches of sand which

appear at first to be continuous in structure, but which a closer

examination shews to consist of separate hard particles or grains. In

front rolls the ocean, which also appears at first to be continuous in

structure, and this we find we cannot divide into grains or particles

no matter how we try. We can divide it into drops, but then each drop

can be subdivided into smaller drops, and there seems to be no reason,

on the face of things, why this process of subdivision should not be

continued for ever. The question which agitated the Greek philosophers

was, in effect, whether the water of the ocean or the sand of the

sea-shore gave the truest picture of the ultimate structure of the

substance of the universe.

The school of Democritus, Leucippus and Lucretius believed in the

ultimate discontinuity of matter; they taught that any substance, after

it had been subdivided a sufficient number of times, would be found

to consist of hard discrete particles which did not admit of further

subdivision. For them the sand gave a better picture of ultimate

structure than the water, because, or so they thought, sufficient

subdivision would cause the water to display the granular properties

of sand. And this intuitional conjecture is amply confirmed by modern

science.

The question is, in effect, settled as soon as a thin layer of a

substance is found to shew qualities essentially different from those

of a slightly thicker layer. A layer of yellow sand swept uniformly

over a red floor will make the whole floor appear yellow if there is

enough sand to make a layer at least one grain thick. If, however,

there is only half this much sand, the redness of the floor inevitably

shews through; it is impossible to spread sand in a uniform layer only

half a grain thick. This sudden change in the properties of a layer of

sand is of course a consequence of the granular structure of sand.

Similar changes are found to occur in the properties of thin layers of

liquid. A teaspoonful of soup will cover the bottom of a soup plate,

but a single drop of soup will only make an untidy splash. In some

cases it is possible to measure the exact thickness of layer at which

the properties of liquids begin to change. In 1890 Lord Rayleigh found

that thin films of olive oil floating on water changed their properties

entirely as soon as the thickness of the film was reduced to below a

millionth of a millimetre (or a 25,000,000th part of an inch). The

obvious interpretation, which is confirmed in innumerable ways, is that

olive oil consists of discrete particles—analogous to the “grains” in a

pile of sand—each having a diameter somewhere in the neighbourhood of a

25,000,000th part of an inch.

Every substance consists of such “grains.” They are called molecules,

and the familiar properties of matter are those of layers many

molecules thick; the properties of layers less than a single molecule

thick are known only to the physicist in his laboratory.

MOLECULES

How are we to break up a piece of substance into its ultimate grains,

or molecules? It is easy for the scientist to say that, by subdividing

water for long enough, we shall come to grains which cannot be

subdivided any further; the plain man would like to see it done.

Fortunately the process is one of extreme simplicity. Take a glass of

water, apply gentle heat underneath, and the water begins to evaporate.

What does this mean? It means that the water is being broken up into

its separate ultimate grains or molecules. If the glass of water

could be placed on a sufficiently sensitive spring balance, we should

see that the process of evaporation does not proceed continuously,

layer after layer, but jerkily, molecule by molecule. We should find

the weight of the water changing by jumps, each jump representing

the weight of a single molecule. The glass may contain any integral

number of molecules but never fractional numbers—if the fractions

of a molecule exist, at any rate they do not come into play in the

evaporation of a glass of water.

THE GASEOUS STATE. The molecules which break loose from the surface

of the water as it evaporates form a gas—water-vapour or steam. A

gas consists of a vast number of molecules which fly about entirely

independently of one another, except at the rare instants at which two

collide, and so interfere with each other’s motion. The extent to which

the molecules interfere with one another must obviously depend on their

sizes; the larger they are, the more frequent their collisions will be,

and the more they will interfere with one another’s motion. Actually

the extent of this interference provides the best means of estimating

the sizes of molecules. They prove to be exceedingly small, being for

the most part about a hundred-millionth of an inch in diameter, and,

as a general rule, the simpler molecules have the smaller diameters,

as we should expect. The molecule of water has a diameter of 1·8

hundred-millionths of an inch (4·6 × 10⁻⁸ cms.), while that of the

simpler hydrogen molecule is only just over a hundred-millionth of

an inch (2·7 × 10⁻⁸ cms.). The fact that a number of different lines

of investigation all attribute the same diameters to these molecules

provides an excellent proof of the reality of their existence.

As molecules are so exceedingly small, they must also be exceedingly

numerous. A pint of water contains 1·89 × 10⁴⁵ molecules, each weighing

1·06 × 10⁻² ounces. If these molecules were placed end to end, they

would form a chain capable of encircling the earth over 200 million

times. If they were scattered over the whole land surface of the earth,

there would be nearly 100 million molecules to every square inch of

land. If we think of the molecules as tiny seeds, the total amount of

seed needed to sow the whole earth at the rate of 100 million molecules

to the square inch could be put into a pint pot.

These molecules move with very high speeds; in the ordinary air of

an ordinary room, the average molecular speed is about 500 yards a

second. This is roughly the speed of a rifle-bullet, and is rather more

than the ordinary speed of sound. As we are familiar with this latter

speed from everyday experience, it is easy to form some conception of

molecular speeds in a gas. It is not a mere accident that molecular

speeds are comparable with the speed of sound. Sound is a disturbance

which one molecule passes on to another when it collides with it,

rather like relays of messengers passing a message on to one another,

or Greek torch-bearers handing on their lights. Between collisions the

message is carried forward at exactly the speed at which the molecules

travel. If these all travelled with precisely the same speed and in

precisely the same direction, the sound would of course travel with

just the speed of the molecules. But many of them travel on oblique

courses, so that although the average speed of individual molecules in

ordinary air is about 500 yards a second, the net forward velocity of

the sound is only about 370 yards a second.

At high temperatures the molecules may have even greater speeds; the

molecules of steam in a boiler may move at 1000 yards a second.

It is the high speed of molecular motion that is responsible for the

great pressure exerted by a gas; any surface in contact with the gas

is exposed to a hail of molecules each moving with the speed of a

rifle-bullet. For instance, the piston in a locomotive cylinder is

bombarded by about 14 × 10²⁸ molecules every second. This incessant

fusillade of innumerable tiny bullets urges the piston forward in the

cylinder, and so propels the train. With each breath we take, swarms of

millions of millions of millions of molecules enter our bodies, each

moving at about 500 yards a second, and nothing but their incessant

hammering on the walls of our lungs keeps our chests from collapsing.

Perhaps the best general mental picture we can form of a gas is that of

an incessant hail of shot or rifle-bullets flying indiscriminately in

all directions, and running into one another at frequent intervals. In

ordinary air each molecule collides with some other molecule about 3000

million times every second, and travels an average distance of about

1/160,000 inch between successive collisions. If we compress a gas to

a greater density, more molecules are crowded into a given space, so

that collisions become more frequent and the molecules travel shorter

distances between collisions. If, on the contrary, we reduce the

pressure of the gas, and so lessen its density, collisions become less

frequent and the distance of travel of a molecule between successive

collisions—the “free-path” as it is called—is increased. In the lowest

vacua which are at present obtainable in the laboratory, a molecule

can travel over 100 yards without colliding with any other molecule,

although there are still 600,000 million molecules to the cubic inch.

Under astronomical conditions still lower vacua may occur. In some

nebulae molecules of gas may travel millions of miles without a

collision, so few are the molecules to a given volume of space.

It might be thought that the flying molecules would soon be brought to

rest by their collisions; rifle-bullets undoubtedly would, but not the

molecule bullets of a gas, for reasons now to be explained.

ENERGY. The amount of the charge of powder used to fire a rifle-bullet

gives a measure of the “energy of motion” which is imparted to the

bullet. To fire a bullet of double weight requires twice as much

powder, because the energy of motion of a bullet, or indeed of any

other moving body, is proportional to its weight. But to fire the same

bullet with double speed does not merely require double the charge of

powder. Four times as much powder is needed, because the energy of

motion of a moving body is proportional to the _square_ of its speed.

The experienced motorist is familiar with this; if our brakes stop

our car in 20 feet when we are travelling 20 miles an hour, they will

not stop it in 40 feet when travelling at 40 miles an hour; we need

80 feet. Double speed requires four times the distance to pull up in,

because double speed represents fourfold energy of motion. In general,

the energy of motion of any moving body whatever is proportional both

to the weight of the body and to the square of its speed[8].

[8] This is expressed in the mathematical formula _½mv²_ for the energy

of motion of a body of weight _m_ moving with a speed _v_. If _m_ is

measured in grammes, and _v_ in centimetres per second, the energy of

motion of the body is said to be _½mv²_ “ergs.” Thus an “erg” is the

energy of motion of a body of 2 grammes weight (so that _½m_= 1) moving

with a speed of one centimetre a second. As an example, the energy of

an express train of 300 tons’ weight (3 × 10⁸ gms.) moving at 60 miles

an hour (2682 cms. a second) is 1079 × 10¹⁴ ergs; a cannon-ball or

shell weighing a ton and moving at 1520 feet a second has precisely the

same energy.

One of the great achievements of nineteenth-century physics was to

establish the general principle known as the “conservation of energy.”

Energy can exist in a number of forms, and can change about almost

endlessly from one form to another, but it can never be utterly

destroyed. The energy of a moving body is not lost when the body is

brought to rest, it merely takes some other form. When a bullet is

brought to rest by hitting a target, part of its energy of motion goes

into heating up the target, and part into heating up, or perhaps even

melting, the bullet. In its new guise of heat, there is just as much

energy as there was in the original motion of the bullet.

In accordance with the same principle, energy cannot be created; all

existing energy must have existed from all time, although possibly

in some form entirely different from its present form. For instance,

gunpowder contains a large amount of energy stored up in the form

of chemical energy; we have to take precautions to prevent this

bottled-up energy suddenly breaking free and doing damage, as, for

instance, by exploding the vessel in which it is contained, kicking

things up into the air, and so forth. A rifle is in effect a device for

setting free the energy contained in a measured charge of gunpowder,

and directing as much as possible of it into the form of energy of

motion of a bullet. When we fire a bullet at a target, a specified

amount of energy (determined by the charge of powder we have used)

is transformed from chemical energy, residing in the powder, first

into energy of motion, residing in the bullet (and to a minor degree

in the recoil of the rifle), and then finally into heat-energy,

residing partly in the spent bullet and partly in the target. Here

we have energy taking three different forms in rapid succession. All

the life of the universe may be regarded as manifestations of energy

masquerading in various forms, and all the changes in the universe

as energy running about from one of these forms to the other, but

always without altering its total amount. Such is the great law of

conservation of energy.

Among the commoner forms of energy may be mentioned electric energy,

as exemplified by the energy of a charged accumulator or of a

thundercloud: mechanical energy, as exemplified in the coiled spring

of a watch or the raised weight of a clock: chemical energy, as

exemplified by the energy stored up in gunpowder or in coal, wood and

oil: energy of motion, as exemplified by the motion of a bullet, and

finally heat-energy, which, as we have seen, is exemplified by the heat

which appears when the motion of a rifle-bullet is checked.

HEAT. Let us examine further into heat as a possible form of energy.

When we want to warm a room, we light a fire and set free some of the

chemical energy which is stored up in coal or wood, or we turn on an

electric heater and let the electric current transport to us some of

the energy which is being set free by the burning of coal in a distant

power-station. But what, in the last resort, is heat, and how does it

come to be a mode of energy?

Heat, whether of a gas, a liquid or a solid, is merely the energy of

motion of individual molecules. When we heat up the air of a room

we simply make its molecules move faster, and the total heat of the

substance is the total energy of all the molecules of which it is

composed. In pumping up a bicycle tyre, we drive the piston of the

pump forward in opposition to the impact of innumerable millions of

molecules of air inside the pump. In kicking the opposing molecules out

of its way, the piston increases their speed of motion. The resulting

increase in the energy of motion of the molecules is simply an increase

of heat. We could verify this by inserting a thermometer, or, still

more simply, by putting our hand on the pump; it feels hot.

The molecules of a solid are not possessed of much energy, and so do

not move very fast—so slowly indeed that they seldom change their

relative positions, the neighbouring molecules gripping them so firmly

that their feeble energy of motion cannot extricate them. If we warm

the solid up, the molecules acquire more energy, and so begin to move

faster. After a time they are moving with such speeds that they can

laugh at the restraining pulls from their neighbours; each molecule has

enough energy of motion to go where it pleases, and we have a crowd

of molecules moving freely as independent units, jostling one another

and pushing their way past one another; the substance has assumed the

liquid state. To make the picture definite, ice has melted and become

water; the frozen grip is relaxed, and the molecules flow freely past

one another. Each still exerts forces on its neighbours, but these

are no longer strong enough to preclude all motion. Heat the liquid

further, thus further increasing the energy of motion of the molecules,

and these begin to break loose entirely from their bonds and fly about

freely in space forming a gas or vapour. If we go on supplying heat,

the whole substance will in time assume the gaseous state. Heating the

gas still further merely causes the molecule-bullets to fly faster; it

increases their energy of motion.

The average energy of motion of the molecules in a gas is proportional

to the temperature of the gas—indeed, this is the way in which

temperature is defined. The temperature must not, however, be measured

on the Fahrenheit or Centigrade scale in ordinary use, but on what is

called the “absolute” scale, which has its zero at -273° Centigrade, or

-469° Fahrenheit. This “absolute” zero, being the temperature of a body

which has no further heat to lose, is the lowest temperature possible.

We can approach to within about one degree of it in the laboratory, and

find that it freezes air, hydrogen and even helium, the most refractory

gas of all, solid. A thermometer placed out in interstellar space, far

from any star, would probably shew a temperature of only about four

degrees above absolute zero, while still lower temperatures must be

reached out beyond the limits of the galactic system.

MOLECULAR COLLISIONS. We may now try to picture a collision between

two molecule-bullets in a gas. Lead bullets colliding on a battlefield

would probably change most of their energy of motion into heat-energy;

they would become hotter, or perchance even melt. But how can the

molecule-bullets transform their energy of motion into heat-energy?

For them heat and energy of motion are not two different forms of

energy, they are one and the same thing; their heat is their energy

of motion. The total energy must be conserved, and there is no

new disguise that it can assume. So it comes about that when two

molecule-bullets collide, the most that can happen is that they may

exchange a certain amount of energy of motion. If their energies of

motion before collision were, say, 7 and 5 respectively, their energies

after collision may be 6 and 6, or 8 and 4, or 9 and 3, or any other

combination which adds up to 12.

It is the same at every collision; energy can neither be lost nor

transformed, and so the bullets on the molecular battlefield go on

flying for ever, happily hitting only one another, and doing no harm

to one another when they hit. Their energies of motion go up and down,

down and up, according as they make lucky hits or the reverse, but the

most they have to fear are fluctuations and never total loss of energy;

their motion is perpetual.

ATOMS

In the gaseous state, each separate molecule retains all the chemical

properties of the solid or liquid substance from which it originated;

molecules of steam, for instance, moisten salt or sugar, or combine

with thirsty substances such as unslaked lime or potassium chloride,

just as water does.

Is it possible to break up the molecules still further? Lucretius

and his predecessors would, of course, have said: “No.” A simple

experiment, which, however, was quite beyond their range, will speedily

shew that they were wrong.

On sliding the two wires of an ordinary electric bell circuit into a

tumbler of water, down opposite sides, bubbles of gas will be found to

collect on the wires, and chemical examination shews that the two lots

of gas have entirely different properties. They cannot, then, both be

water-vapour, and in point of fact neither of them is; one proves to

be hydrogen and the other oxygen. There is found to be twice as much

hydrogen as oxygen, whence we conclude that the electric current has

broken up each molecule of water into two parts of hydrogen and one of

oxygen. These smaller units into which a molecule is broken are called

“atoms.” Each molecule of water consists of two atoms of hydrogen (H)

and one atom of oxygen (O); this is expressed in its chemical formula

H₂O.

All the innumerable substances which occur on earth—shoes, ships,

sealing-wax, cabbages, kings, carpenters, walruses, oysters, everything

we can think of—can be analysed into their constituent atoms, either

in this or in other ways. It might be thought that a quite incredible

number of different kinds of atoms would emerge from the rich variety

of substances we find on earth. Actually the number is quite small. The

same atoms turn up again and again, and the great variety of substances

we find on earth result, not from any great variety of atoms entering

into their composition, but from the great variety of ways in which

a few types of atoms can be combined—just as in a colour-print three

colours can be combined so as to form almost all the colours we meet in

nature, not to mention other weird hues such as never were on land or

sea.

Analysis of all known terrestrial substances has, so far, revealed only

90 different kinds of atoms. Probably 92 exist, there being reasons

for thinking that two, or possibly even more, still remain to be

discovered. Even of the 90 already known, the majority are exceedingly

rare, most common substances being formed out of the combinations of

about 14 different atoms, say hydrogen (H), carbon (C), nitrogen (N),

oxygen (O), sodium (Na), magnesium (Mg), aluminium (Al), silicon (Si),

phosphorus (P), sulphur (S), chlorine (Cl), potassium (K), calcium

(Ca), and iron (Fe).

In this way, the whole earth, with its endless diversity of substances,

is found to be a building built of standard bricks—the atoms. And

of these only a few types, about 14, occur at all abundantly in the

structure, the others appearing but rarely.

SPECTROSCOPY. Just as a bell struck with a hammer emits a

characteristic note, so every atom put in a flame or in an electric

arc or discharge-tube, emits a characteristic light. When Newton

passed sunlight through a prism, he found it to be a blend of all the

colours of the rainbow. In the same way the modern spectroscopist, with

infinitely more refined instruments, can analyse any light into all

the constituent colours which enter into its composition. The rainbow

of colours so produced—the “spectrum”—is crossed by the pattern of

light or dark lines or bands which the astronomer utilises to determine

the speeds of recession or approach of the stars. From an examination

of this pattern the skilled spectroscopist can at once announce the

type of atom from which the light emanates, so much so that one of

the most delicate tests for the presence of certain substances is the

spectroscopic test.

This spectroscopic method of analysis is by no means confined to

terrestrial substances. In 1814 Fraunhofer repeated Newton’s analysis

of sunlight, and found its spectrum to be crossed by certain dark

lines, still known as Fraunhofer lines. The spectroscopist has no

difficulty in interpreting these dark lines; they indicate the presence

in the sun of the common terrestrial elements, hydrogen, sodium,

calcium, and iron. For reasons which we shall see later (p. 125 below),

the atoms of these substances drink up the light of precisely those

colours which the Fraunhofer lines shew to be absent from the solar

spectrum. This spectrum is now known to be incomparably more intricate

than Fraunhofer thought, but practically all the lines which occur in

it can be assigned to atoms known on earth, and the same is true of

the spectra of all the stars in the sky. It is tempting to jump to the

generalisation that the whole universe is built solely of the 90 or 92

types of atoms found on earth, but at present there is no justification

for this. The light we receive from the sun and stars comes only from

the outermost layers of their surfaces, and so conveys no information

at all as to the types of atoms to be found in the stars’ interiors.

Indeed we have no knowledge of the types of atoms which occur in the

interior of our own earth.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE ATOM. Until quite recently, atoms were regarded

as the permanent bricks of which the whole universe was built. All

the changes of the universe were supposed to amount to nothing more

drastic than a re-arrangement of permanent indestructible atoms; like a

child’s box of bricks, these built many buildings in turn. The story of

twentieth-century physics is primarily the story of the shattering of

this concept.

It was towards the end of the last century that Crookes, Lenard, and,

above all, Sir J. J. Thomson first began to break up the atom. The

structures which had been deemed the unbreakable bricks of the universe

for more than 2000 years, were suddenly shown to be very susceptible to

having fragments chipped off. A mile-stone was reached in 1895, when

Thomson shewed that these fragments were identical, no matter what type

of atom they came from; they were of equal weight and they carried

equal charges of negative electricity. On account of this last property

they were called “electrons.” The atom cannot, however, be built up of

electrons and nothing else, for as each electron carries a negative

charge of electricity, a structure which consisted of nothing but

electrons would also carry a negative charge. Two negative charges of

electricity repel one another, as also do two positive charges, while

two charges, one of positive and one of negative electricity, attract

one another. This makes it easy to determine whether any body or

structure carries a positive or a negative charge of electricity, or no

charge at all. Observation shews that a complete atom carries no charge

at all, so that somewhere in the atom there must be a positive charge

of electricity, of amount just sufficient to neutralise the combined

negative charges of all the electrons.

In 1911 experiments by Sir Ernest Rutherford and others revealed

the architecture of the atom. As we shall soon see (p. 112 below),

nature herself provides an endless supply of small particles charged

with positive electricity, and moving with very high speeds, in the

α-particles shot off from radio-active substances. Rutherford’s method

was in brief to fire these into atoms and observe the result. And the

surprising result he obtained was that the vast majority of these

bullets passed straight through the atom as though it simply did not

exist. It was like shooting at a ghost.

Yet the atom was not all ghostly. A tiny fraction—perhaps one in

10,000—of the bullets were deflected from their courses as if they

had met something very substantial indeed. A mathematical calculation

shewed that these obstacles could only be the missing positive charges

of the atoms.

A detailed study of the paths of these projectiles proved that the

whole positive charge of an atom must be concentrated in a single very

small space, having dimensions of the order of only a millionth of a

millionth of an inch. In this way, Rutherford was led to propound the

view of atomic structure which is generally associated with his name.

He supposed the chemical properties and nature of the atom to reside

in a weighty, but excessively minute, central “nucleus” carrying a

positive charge of electricity, around which a number of negatively

charged electrons described orbits. It was of course necessary to

suppose the electrons to be in motion in the atom, otherwise the

attraction of positive for negative electricity would immediately draw

them into the central nucleus—just as gravitational attraction would

cause the earth to fall into the sun, were it not for the orbital

motion of the former. In brief Rutherford supposed the atom to be

constructed like the solar system, the heavy central nucleus playing

the part of the sun and the electrons acting the parts of the planets.

The speeds with which these electrons fly round their tiny orbits are

terrific. The average electron revolves around its nucleus several

thousand million million times every second, with a speed of hundreds

of miles a second. Thus the smallness of their orbits does not prevent

the electrons moving with higher orbital speeds than the planets, or

even the stars themselves.

By clearing a space around the central nucleus, and so preventing other

atoms from coming too near to it, these electronic orbits give size to

the atom. The volume of space kept clear by the electrons is enormously

greater than the total volume of the electrons; roughly, the ratio of

volumes is that of the battlefield to the bullets. The atom, with a

radius of about 2 × 10⁻⁸ cms., has about 100,000 times the diameter,

and so about a thousand million million times the volume, of a single

electron, which has a radius of only about 2 × 10⁻¹³cms. The nucleus,

although it generally weighs 3000 or 4000 times as much as all the

electrons in the atom together, is at most comparable in size with, and

may be even smaller than, a single electron.

We have already commented on the extreme emptiness of astronomical

space. Choose a point in space at random, and the odds against its

being occupied by a star are enormous. Even the solar system consists

overwhelmingly of empty space; choose a spot inside the solar system

at random, and there are still immense odds against its being occupied

by a planet or even by a comet, meteorite or smaller body. And now we

see that this emptiness extends also to the space of physics. Even

inside the atom we choose a point at random, and the odds against there

being anything there are immense; they are of the order of at least

millions of millions to one. We saw how six specks of dust inside

Waterloo Station represented—or rather over-represented—the extent to

which space was crowded with stars. In the same way a few wasps—six for

the atom of carbon—flying around in Waterloo Station will represent

the extent to which the atom is crowded with electrons—all the rest is

emptiness. As we pass the whole structure of the universe under review,

from the giant nebulae and the vast interstellar and internebular

spaces down to the tiny structure of the atom, little but vacant space

passes before our mental gaze. We live in a gossamer universe; pattern,

plan and design are there in abundance, but solid substance is rare.

ATOMIC NUMBERS. The number of electrons which fly round in orbits in

an atom is called the “atomic number” of the atom. Atoms of all atomic

numbers from 1 to 92 have been found, except for two missing numbers

85 and 87. As already mentioned, it is highly probable that these also

exist, and that there are 92 “elements” whose atomic numbers occupy the

whole range of atomic numbers from 1 to 92 continuously.

The atom of atomic number unity is of course the simplest of all. It

is the hydrogen atom, in which a solitary electron revolves around

a nucleus whose charge of positive electricity is exactly equal in

amount, although opposite in sign, to the charge on the negative

electron.

Next comes the helium atom of atomic number 2, in which two electrons

revolve about a nucleus which has four times the weight of the hydrogen

nucleus, although carrying only twice its electric charge. After this

comes the lithium atom of atomic number 3, in which three electrons

revolve around a nucleus having six times the weight of the hydrogen

atom and three times its charge. And so it goes on, until we reach

uranium, the heaviest of all atoms known on earth, which has 92

electrons describing orbits about a nucleus of 238 times the weight of

the hydrogen nucleus.

RADIO-ACTIVITY

While it was still engaged in breaking up the atom into its

component factors, physical science was beginning to discover that

the nuclei themselves were neither permanent nor indestructible.

In 1896, Becquerel had found that various substances containing

uranium possessed the remarkable property, as it then appeared,

of spontaneously affecting photographic plates in their vicinity.

This observation led to the discovery of a new property of matter,

namely radio-activity. All the results obtained from the study of

radio-activity in the few following years were co-ordinated in the

hypothesis of “spontaneous disintegration” which Rutherford and Soddy

advanced in 1903. According to this hypothesis in its present form,

radio-activity indicates a spontaneous break-up of the nuclei of the

atoms of radio-active substances. These atoms are so far from being

permanent and indestructible that their very nuclei crumble away with

the mere lapse of time, so that what was once the nucleus of a uranium

atom is transformed, after sufficient time, into the nucleus of a lead

atom.

The process of transformation is not instantaneous; it proceeds

gradually and by distinct stages. During its progress, three types of

product are emitted, which are designated α-rays, β-rays, and γ-rays.

These were originally described as rays because they have the power

of penetrating through a certain thickness of air, metal, or other

substance. Their true nature was discovered later. It is well known

that magnetic forces such as, for instance, occur in the space between

the poles of a magnet, cause a moving particle charged with electricity

to deviate from a straight course; it deviates in one direction or the

other according as it is charged with positive or negative electricity.

On passing the various rays emitted by radio-active substances through

the space between the poles of a powerful magnet, the α-rays were found

to consist of particles charged with positive electricity, and the

β-rays to consist of particles charged with negative electricity. But

the most powerful magnetic forces which could be employed failed to

cause the slightest deviation in the paths of the γ-rays, from which

it was concluded that either the γ-rays were not material particles

at all, or that, if they were, they carried no electric charges. The

former of these alternatives was subsequently proved to be the true one.

α-PARTICLES. The positively charged particles which constitute α-rays

are generally described as α-particles. In 1909 Rutherford and Royds

allowed α-particles to penetrate through a thin glass wall of less than

a hundredth of a millimetre thickness into a chamber from which they

could not escape—a sort of mouse-trap for α-particles. They found that

so long as the number of α-particles in the vessel went on increasing,

an accumulation of helium was forming. In this way it was established

that the positively charged α-particles are simply nuclei of helium

atoms.

These particles move with enormous speeds, which depend upon the nature

of the radio-active substance from which they have been shot out.

The fastest of all, those emitted by Thorium Cʹ, move with a speed

of 12,800 miles a second; even the slowest, those from Uranium 1,

have a speed of 8800 miles a second, which is about 30,000 times the

ordinary molecular velocity in air. Particles moving with these speeds

knock all ordinary molecules out of their way; this explains the great

penetrating power of the α-rays.

β-PARTICLES. By examining their motion under magnetic forces, the

β-rays were found to consist of negatively charged electrons, exactly

similar to those which revolve orbitally in all atoms. As an α-particle

carries a positive charge equal in amount to that of two electrons,

an atom which has ejected an α-particle is left with a deficiency of

positive charge, or what comes to the same thing, with a negative

charge, equal to that of two electrons. Consequently it is natural,

and indeed almost inevitable, that the ejections of α-particles should

alternate with an ejection of negatively charged electrons, so that

the balance of positive and negative electricity in the atom may be

maintained. The β-particles move with even greater speeds than the

α-particles, many approaching to within a few per cent. of the velocity

of light (186,000 miles a second).

[Illustration: PLATE XIII _C. T. R. Wilson_

The tracks of α- and β-particles]

One of the most beautiful devices known to physical science, the

invention of Professor C. T. R. Wilson, makes it possible to study the

motions of the α- and β-particles as they thread their way through

a gas, colliding with its molecules on their way. A chamber through

which the particles are made to travel is filled with water-vapour in

such a condition that the passage of an electrically charged particle

leaves behind it a trail of condensations which can be photographed.

As an example, Plate XIII shews a photograph taken by Professor Wilson

himself, in which the trails of both α- and β-particles appear on

the same plate. As the α-particles weigh about 7400 times as much as

the β-particles, they naturally create more disturbance in the gas,

and so leave broader and more pronounced tracks; also they pursue

a comparatively straight course while the lighter β-particles are

deflected from their courses by many of the molecules they meet. The

plate shews four α-particle tracks and one (much fainter) β-ray track.

The knobby-looking projections which may be seen on one of the α-ray

tracks are of interest; they represent the short paths of electrons

knocked out of atoms by the passage of the α-particle[9].

[9] These were called δ-rays by Bumstead.

γ-RAYS. The γ-rays are not material particles at all; they prove to be

merely radiation of a very special kind, which we shall now discuss.

RADIATION

Disturb the surface of a pond with a stick and a series of ripples

starts from the stick and travels, in a series of ever-expanding

circles, over the surface of the pond. As the water resists the motion

of the stick, we have to work to keep the pond in a state of agitation.

The energy of this work is transformed, in part at least, into the

energy of the ripples. We can see that the ripples carry energy about

with them, because they cause a floating cork or a toy boat to rise

up against the earth’s gravitational pull. Thus the ripples provide a

mechanism for distributing over the surface of the pond the energy that

we put into the pond through the medium of the moving stick.

Light and all other forms of radiation are analogous to water-ripples

or waves, in that they distribute energy from a central source. The

sun’s radiation distributes through space the vast amount of energy

which is generated inside the sun. We hardly know whether there is any

actual wave-motion in light or not, but we know that both light and all

other types of radiation are propagated in such a form that they have

some of the properties of a succession of waves.

We have seen how the different colours of light which in combination

constitute sunlight can be separated out by passing the light through

a prism. An alternative instrument, the diffraction grating, analyses

light into its constituent wave-lengths[10], and these are found to

correspond to the different colours of the rainbow. This shews that

different colours of light represent different wave-lengths, and at

the same time provides a means of measuring the actual wave-lengths

of light of different colours. These prove to be very minute. The

reddest light we can see, which is that of longest wave-length, has a

wave-length of only 3/100,000 inch (7·5 × 10⁻⁵ cms.); the most violet

light we can see has a wave-length only half of this, or 0·000015 inch.

Light of all colours travels with the same uniform speed of 186,000

miles, or 3 × 10¹⁰ centimetres, a second. The number of waves of red

light which pass any fixed point in a second is accordingly no fewer

than four hundred million million. This is called the “frequency” of

the light. Violet light has the still higher frequency of eight hundred

million million; when we see violet light, eight hundred million

million waves of light enter our eyes each second.

[10] The wave-length in a system of ripples is the distance from the

crest of one ripple to that of the next, and the term may be applied to

all phenomena of an undulatory nature.

The spectrum of analysed sunlight appears to the eye to stretch from

red light at one end to violet light at the other, but these are not

its true limits. If certain chemical salts are placed beyond the violet

end of the visible spectrum, they are found to shine vividly, shewing

that even out here energy is being transported, although in invisible

form.

Regions of invisible radiation stretch indefinitely from both ends of

the visible spectrum. From one end—the red—we can pass continuously

to waves of the type used for wireless transmission, which have

wave-lengths of the order of hundreds, or even thousands, of yards.

From the violet end, we pass through waves of shorter and ever

shorter wave-length—all the various forms of ultra-violet radiation.

At wave-lengths of from about a hundredth to a thousandth of the

wave-length of visible light, we come to the familiar X-rays, which

penetrate through inches of our flesh, so that we can photograph

the bones inside. Far out even beyond these, we come to the type of

radiation which constitutes the γ-rays, its wave-length being of the

order of 1/10,000,000,000 inch, or only about a hundred-thousandth part

of the wave-length of visible light. Thus the γ-rays may be regarded as

invisible radiation of extremely short wave-length. We shall discuss

the exact function they serve later. For the moment let us merely

remark that in the first instance they served the extremely useful

function of fogging Becquerel’s photographic plates, thus leading to

the detection of the radio-active property of matter.

Thus we see that the break-up of a radio-active atom may be compared

to the discharge of a gun; the α-particle is the shot fired, the

β-particles are the smoke, and the γ-rays are the flash. The atom

of lead which finally remains is the unloaded gun, and the original

radio-active atom, of uranium or what not, was the loaded gun. And

the special peculiarity of radio-active guns is that they go off

spontaneously and of their own accord. All attempts to pull the trigger

have so far failed, or at least have led to inconclusive results; we

can only wait, and the gun will be found to fire itself in time.

[Illustration: PLATE XIV Fig. 1]

[Illustration: _P. M. S. Blackett_ Fig. 2

Collisions of α-particles with Nitrogen Atoms

In fig. 1 the α-particle merely rebounds from a nitrogen atom. In fig.

2 it drives out a proton and then joins itself to the atom]

ATOMIC NUCLEI

With the unimportant exceptions of potassium and rubidium (of atomic

numbers 19 and 37), the property of radio-activity occurs only in

the most complex and massive of atoms, being indeed confined to

those of atomic numbers above 83. Yet, although the lighter atoms

are not liable to spontaneous disintegration in the same way as the

heavy radio-active atoms, their nuclei are of composite structure,

and can be broken up by artificial means. In 1920, Rutherford, using

radio-active atoms as guns, fired α-particles at light atoms and found

that direct hits broke up their nuclei. There is, however, found to

be a significant difference between the spontaneous disintegration of

the heavy radio-active atoms, and the artificial disintegration of the

light atoms; in the former case, apart from the ever-present β-rays

and γ-rays, only α-particles are ejected, while in the latter case

α-particles were not ejected at all, but particles of only about a

quarter their weight, which proved to be identical with the nuclei of

hydrogen atoms.

These sensational events in the atomic under-world can be photographed

by Professor C. T. R. Wilson’s condensation method already explained.

Plate XIV shews two collisions of an α-particle with a nitrogen

atom photographed by Mr P. M. S. Blackett. The straight lines are

merely the quite uneventful tracks of ordinary α-particles similar to

those already shewn in Plate XIII. But one α-particle track in each

photograph suddenly branches, so that the complete figure is of a

=Y=-shape.

There is little room for doubt that in fig. 1 the branch occurs

because the α-particle has collided with a nitrogen atom; the stem of

the =Y= is the track of the α-particle before the collision; the two

upper branches are the tracks of the α-particle and the nitrogen atom

after the collision, the latter now moving with enormous speed and

hitting everything out of its way. By taking simultaneous photographs

in two directions at right angles, as shewn in the Plate, Mr Blackett

was able to reconstruct the whole collision, and the angles were found

to agree exactly with those which dynamical theory would require on

this interpretation of the photograph.

The occurrence photographed in fig. 2 is of a different type from that

seen in fig. 1, for the angles do not agree with those which dynamical

theory would require if the upper branches of the =Y= were the tracks

of the α-particles and the nitrogen atom as in fig. 1. The stem of the

=Y= is still an ordinary α-particle track, but the long faint upper

branch is the track of a particle smaller than an α-particle, namely

a particle of quarter-weight shot out of the nucleus, whilst the

shorter and clearer branch is that of the nitrogen atom moving along in

company with the α-particle, which it has captured. It would take too

much space to describe in full the beautiful method by which Blackett

has established this interpretation of his photographs, but there is

little room for doubt that in fig. 2 he has actually succeeded in

photographing the break-up of the nucleus of an atom of nitrogen.

ISOTOPES. Two atoms have the same chemical properties if the charges

of positive electricity carried by their nuclei are the same. The

amount of this charge fixes the number of electrons which can revolve

around the nucleus, this number being of course exactly that needed to

neutralise the electric field of the nucleus, and this in turn fixes

the atomic number of the element. But Dr Aston has shewn that atoms

of the same chemical element, say neon or chlorine, may have nuclei

of different weights. The various forms which the atoms of the same

chemical element can assume are known as isotopes, being of course

distinguished by their different weights. Aston further made the highly

significant discovery that the weights of all atoms are, to a very

close approximation, multiples of a single definite weight. This unit

weight is approximately equal to the weight of the hydrogen atom, but

is more nearly equal to a sixteenth of the weight of the oxygen atom.

The weight of any type of atom, measured in terms of this unit, is

called the “atomic weight” of the atom.

PROTONS AND ELECTRONS. In conjunction with the results of Rutherford’s

artificial disintegration of atomic nuclei, Aston’s results have led

to the general acceptance of the hypothesis that the whole universe is

built up of only two kinds of ultimate bricks, namely, electrons and

protons. Each proton carries a positive charge of electricity exactly

equal in amount to the negative charge carried by an electron, but has

about 1840 times the weight of the electron. Protons are supposed to

be identical with the nucleus of the hydrogen atom, all other nuclei

being composite structures in which both protons and electrons are

closely packed together. For instance, the nucleus of the helium atom,

or α-particle, consists of four protons and two electrons, these giving

it approximately four times the weight of the hydrogen atom, and a

resultant charge equal to twice that of the nucleus of the hydrogen

atom.

Yet this is not quite the whole story. If it were, every complete atom

would consist of a certain number _N_ of protons, together with just

enough electrons, namely _N_, to neutralise the electric charges on the

_N_ protons, so that its ingredients would be precisely the same as

those of _N_ hydrogen atoms. Thus the weight of every atom would be an

exact multiple of the weight of a hydrogen atom. Experiment shews this

not to be the case.

ELECTROMAGNETIC ENERGY. To get at the whole truth, we have to recognise

that, in addition to containing material electrons and protons,

the atom contains yet a third ingredient which we may describe as

electromagnetic energy. We may think of this, although with something

short of absolute scientific accuracy, as bottled radiation.

It is a commonplace of modern electromagnetic theory that radiation

of every kind carries weight about with it, weight which is in every

sense as real as the weight of a ton of coal. A ray of light causes an

impact on any surface on which it falls, just as a jet of water does,

or a blast of wind, or the fall of a ton of coal; with a sufficiently

strong light one could knock a man down just as surely as with the jet

of water from a fire-hose. This is not a mere theoretical prediction.

The pressure of light on a surface has been both detected and measured

by direct experiment. The experiments are extraordinarily difficult

because, judged by all ordinary standards, the weight carried by

radiation is exceedingly small; all the radiation emitted from a 50

horse-power searchlight working continuously for a century weighs only

about a twentieth of an ounce.

It follows that any substance which is emitting radiation must at the

same time be losing weight. In particular, the disintegration of any

radio-active substance must involve a decrease of weight, since it is

accompanied by the emission of radiation in the form of γ-rays. The

ultimate fate of an ounce of uranium may be expressed by the equation:

{ 0·8653 ounce lead,

1 ounce uranium = { 0·1345 ” helium,

{ 0·0002 ” radiation.

The lead and helium together contain just as many electrons and just as

many protons as did the original ounce of uranium, but their combined

weight is short of the weight of the original uranium by about one part

in 4000. Where 4000 ounces of matter originally existed, only 3999 now

remain; the missing ounce has gone off in the form of radiation.

This makes it clear that we must not expect the weights of the

various atoms to be exact multiples of the weight of the hydrogen

atom; any such expectation would ignore the weight of the bottled-up

electromagnetic energy which is capable of being set free and going

off into space in the form of radiation as the atom changes its make

up. The weight of this energy is relatively small, so that the weights

of the atoms may be expected to be approximately integral multiples of

that of the hydrogen atom, and this expectation is confirmed, but they

will not be so exactly. The exact weight of our atomic building is not

simply the total weight of all its bricks; something must be added for

the weight of the mortar—the electromagnetic energy—which keeps the

bricks bound together.

Thus the normal atom consists of protons, electrons, and energy, each

of which contributes something to its weight. When the atom re-arranges

itself, either spontaneously or under bombardment, protons and

electrons may be shot off in the form of material particles (α- and

β-rays) and energy may also be set free in the form of radiation. This

radiation may either take the form of γ-rays, or, as we shall shortly

see, of other forms of visible and invisible radiation. The final

weight of the atom will be obtained by deducting from its original

weight not only the weight of all the ejected electrons and protons,

but also the weight of all the energy which has been set free as

radiation.

QUANTUM THEORY

The series of concepts which we now approach are difficult to grasp and

still more difficult to explain, largely, no doubt, because our minds

receive no assistance from our everyday experience of nature[11]. It

becomes necessary to speak mainly in terms of analogies, parables and

models which can make no claim to represent ultimate reality; indeed it

is rash to hazard a guess even as to the direction in which ultimate

reality lies.

[11] The reader whose interest is limited to astronomy may prefer to

proceed at once to Chapter III.

The laws of electricity which were in vogue up to about the end of the

nineteenth century—the famous laws of Maxwell and Faraday—required that

the energy of an atom should continually decrease, through the atom

scattering energy abroad in the form of radiation, and so having less

and less left for itself. These same laws predicted that all energy set

free in space should rapidly transform itself into radiation of almost

infinitesimal wave-length. Yet these things simply did not happen,

making it obvious that the then prevailing electrodynamical laws had to

be given up.

CAVITY-RADIATION. A crucial case of failure was provided by what is

known as “cavity-radiation.” A body with a cavity in its interior

is heated up to incandescence; no notice is taken of the light and

heat emitted by its outer surface, but the light imprisoned in the

internal cavity is let out through a small window and analysed into

its constituent colours by a spectroscope or diffraction grating. It

is this radiation that is known as “cavity-radiation.” It represents

the most complete form of radiation possible, radiation from which

no colour is missing, and in which every colour figures at its full

strength. No known substance ever emits quite such complete radiation

from its surface, although many approximate to doing so. We speak of

such bodies as “full radiators.”

The nineteenth-century laws of electromagnetism predicted that the

whole of the radiation emitted by a full radiator or from a cavity

ought to be found at or beyond the extreme violet end of the spectrum,

independently of the precise temperature to which the body had been

heated. In actual fact the radiation is usually found piled up at

exactly the opposite end of the spectrum, and in no case does it ever

conform to the predictions of the nineteenth-century laws, or even

begin to think of doing so.

In the year 1900, Professor Planck of Berlin discovered experimentally

the law by which “cavity-radiation” is distributed among the different

colours of the spectrum. He further shewed how his newly discovered law

could be deduced theoretically from a system of electromagnetic laws

which differed very sensationally from those then in vogue.

Planck imagined all kinds of radiation to be emitted by systems of

vibrators which emitted light when excited, much as tuning forks emit

sound when they are struck. The old electrodynamical laws predicted

that each vibration should gradually come to rest and then stop, as

the vibrations of a tuning fork do, until the vibrator was in some way

excited again. Rejecting all this, Planck supposed that a vibrator

could change its energy by sudden jerks, and in no other way; it might

have one, two, three, four or any other integral number of units of

energy, but no intermediate fractional numbers, so that gradual changes

of energy were rendered impossible. The vibrator, so to speak, kept

no small change, and could only pay out its energy a shilling at a

time until it had none left. Not only so, but it refused to receive

small change, although it was prepared to accept complete shillings.

This concept, sensational, revolutionary and even ridiculous, as many

thought it at the time, was found to lead exactly to the distribution

of colours actually observed in cavity-radiation.

In 1917, Einstein put the concept into the more precise form which

now prevails. According to a theory previously advanced by Professor

Niels Bohr of Copenhagen, an atomic or molecular structure does not

change its configuration, or dissipate away its energy, by gradual

stages. Gradualness is driven out of physics, and discontinuity takes

its place. An atomic structure has a number of possible states or

configurations which are entirely distinct and detached one from

another, just as a weight placed on a staircase has only a possible

number of positions; it may be 3 stairs up, or 4 or 5, but cannot

be 3¼ or 3¾ stairs up. The change from one position to another is

generally effected through the medium of radiation. The system can

be pushed upstairs by absorbing energy from radiation which falls on

it, or may move downstairs to a state of lower energy and emit energy

in the form of radiation in so doing. Only radiation of a certain

definite colour, and so of a certain precise wave-length, is of any

account for effecting a particular change of state. The problem of

shifting an atomic system is like that of extracting a box of matches

from a penny-in-the-slot machine; it can only be done by a special

implement, to wit a penny, which must be of precisely the right size

and weight—a coin which is either too small _or too large_, too

light _or too heavy_, is doomed to fail. If we pour radiation of the

wrong wave-length on to an atom, we may reproduce the comedy of the

millionaire whose total wealth will not procure him a box of matches

because he has not a loose penny, or we may reproduce the tragedy of

the child who cannot obtain a slab of chocolate because its hoarded

wealth consists of farthings and half-pence, but we shall not disturb

the atom. When mixed radiation is poured on to a collection of atoms,

these absorb the radiation of just those wave-lengths which are needed

to change their internal states, and none other; radiation of all other

wave-lengths passes by unaffected.

This selective action of the atom on radiation is put in evidence in a

variety of ways; it is perhaps most simply shewn in the spectra of the

sun and stars. Dark lines similar to those which Fraunhofer observed in

the solar spectrum are observed in the spectra of practically all stars

(see Plate VIII, p. 51), and we can now understand why this must be.

Light of every possible wave-length streams out from the hot interior

of a star, and bombards the atoms which form its atmosphere. Each atom

drinks up that radiation which is of precisely the right wave-length

for it, but has no interaction of any kind with the rest, so that the

radiation which is finally emitted from the star is deficient in just

the particular wave-lengths which suit the atoms. Thus the star shews

an _absorption spectrum_ of fine lines. The positions of these lines

in the spectrum shew what types of radiation the stellar atoms have

swallowed, and so enable us to identify the atoms from our laboratory

knowledge of the tastes of different kinds of atoms for radiation. But

what ultimately decides which types of radiation an atom will swallow,

and which it will reject?

Planck had already supposed that radiation of each wave-length has

associated with it a certain amount of energy, called the “quantum,”

which depends on the wave-length and on nothing else. The quantum is

supposed to be proportional to the “frequency” (p. 115), or number

of vibrations of the radiation per second[12], and so is _inversely_

proportional to the wave-length of the radiation—the shorter the

wave-length, the greater the energy of the quantum, and conversely. Red

light has feeble quanta, violet light has energetic quanta, and so on.

[12] To be precise, if _v_ is the frequency of the radiation, its

quantum of energy is _h__v_, where _h_ is a universal constant of

nature, known as Planck’s constant. This constant is of the physical

nature of energy multiplied by time; its numerical value is:

6·55 × 10⁻²⁷ ergs × seconds.

Einstein now supposes that radiation of a given type can effect an

atomic or molecular change, only if the energy needed for the change

is precisely equal to that of a single quantum of the radiation. This

is commonly known as Einstein’s law; it determines the precise type

of radiation needed to work any atomic or molecular penny-in-the-slot

mechanism[13].

[13] In the form of an equation:

_E_₁ - _E_₂ = _h_ν,

where _E_₁, _E_₂ are the energies of the material system before and

after the change, ν is the frequency of the radiation, and _h_ is

Planck’s constant already specified.

We notice that work which demands one powerful quantum cannot be

performed by two, or indeed by any number whatever, of feeble quanta.

A small amount of violet (high-frequency) light can accomplish what

no amount of red (low-frequency) light can effect—a circumstance with

which every photographer is painfully familiar; we can admit as much

red light as we please without any damage being done, but even the

tiniest gleam of violet light spoils our plates.

The law prohibits the killing of two birds with one stone, as well as

the killing of one bird with two stones; the whole quantum is used up

in effecting the change, so that no energy from this particular quantum

is left over to contribute to any further change. This aspect of the

matter is illustrated by Einstein’s photochemical law: “in any chemical

reaction which is produced by the incidence of light, the number of

molecules which are affected is equal to the number of quanta of light

which are absorbed.” Those who manage penny-in-the-slot machines are

familiar with a similar law: “the number of articles sold is exactly

equal to the number of coins in the machine.”

If we think of energy in terms of its capacity for doing damage, we

see that radiation of short wave-length can work more destruction

in atomic structures than radiation of long wave-length. Radiation

of sufficiently short wave-length may not only re-arrange molecules

or atoms; it may break up any atom on which it happens to fall, by

shooting out one of its electrons, giving rise to what is known as

photoelectric action. Again there is a definite limit of frequency,

such that light whose frequency is below this limit does not produce

any effect at all, no matter how intense it may be; whereas as soon as

we pass to frequencies above this limit, light of even the feeblest

intensity starts photoelectric action at once. Again the absorption

of one quantum breaks up only one atom, and further ejects only one

electron from the atom. If the radiation has a frequency above this

limit, so that its quantum has more energy than the minimum necessary

to remove a single electron from the atom, the whole quantum is still

absorbed, the excess energy now being used in endowing the ejected

electron with motion.

ELECTRON ORBITS. These concepts are based upon Bohr’s supposition

that only a limited number of orbits are open to the electrons in

an atom, all others being prohibited for reasons which we still do

not fully understand, and that an electron is free to move from one

permitted orbit to another under the stimulus of radiation. Bohr

himself investigated the way in which the various permitted orbits

are arranged. Modern investigations indicate the need for a good deal

of revision of his simple concepts, but we shall discuss these in

some detail, partly because Bohr’s picture of the atom still provides

the best working mechanical model we have, and partly because an

understanding of his simple theory is absolutely essential to the

understanding of the far more intricate theories which are beginning to

replace it.

The hydrogen atom, as we have already seen, consists of a single

proton as central nucleus, with a single electron revolving around

it. The nucleus, with about 1840 times the weight of the electron,

stands practically at rest unagitated by the motion of the latter,

just as the sun remains practically undisturbed by the motion of the

earth round it. The nucleus and electron carry charges of positive and

negative electricity, and therefore attract one another; this is why

the electron describes an orbit instead of flying off in a straight

line, again like the earth and sun. Furthermore, the attraction between

electric charges of opposite sign, positive and negative, follows,

as it happens, precisely the same law as gravitation, the attraction

falling off as the inverse square of the distance between the two

charges. Thus the nucleus-electron system is similar in all respects

to a sun-planet system, and the orbits which an electron can describe

around a central nucleus are precisely identical with those which a

planet can describe about a central sun; they consist of a system of

ellipses each having the nucleus in one focus (p. 46).

Yet the general concepts of quantum-dynamics prohibit the electron from

moving in all these orbits indiscriminately. According to Bohr, the

electron of the hydrogen atom can move in a certain number of circular

orbits whose diameters are proportional to the squares of the natural

numbers 1, 4, 9, 16, 25, ...; it can also move in a series of elliptic

orbits whose greatest diameters are respectively equal to the diameters

of the possible circular orbits, although these elliptic orbits are

still further limited by the condition that their eccentricities

must have certain definite values. All other orbits are in some way

prohibited.

The smallest orbits which the electron can describe in the hydrogen

atom are shewn in fig. 10. The smallest orbit of all, of diameter 1,

is marked 1₁; beyond this come two orbits of diameter 4 marked 2₁ 2₂;

then three orbits of diameter 9 marked 3₁, 3₂, 3₃; and four orbits of

diameter 16 marked 4₁, 4₂, 4₃, 4₄. The diagram stops here for want

of space, but the available orbits go on indefinitely. Even under

laboratory conditions, electrons may move in orbits of a hundred times

the diameter of that marked 1₁. Under the more rarefied conditions of

stellar atmospheres the hydrogen atom may swell out to even greater

dimensions, and stellar spectra provide evidence of orbits having over

a thousand times the dimensions of the 1₁ orbit. Such an orbit would be

represented in fig. 10 by a circle four yards in diameter.

[Illustration: Fig. 10. The arrangement of electron orbits in the

hydrogen atom (Bohr’s model).]

All orbits, whether elliptic or circular, which have the same diameter,

have also the same energy, but the energy changes when an electron

crosses over from any orbit to another of a different diameter. Thus,

to a certain limited extent, the atom constitutes a reservoir of

energy. Its changes of energy are easily calculated; for example, the

two orbits of smallest diameters in the hydrogen atom differ in energy

by 16 × 10⁻¹² ergs. If we pour radiation of the appropriate wave-length

on to an atom in which the electron is describing the smallest orbit

of all, it crosses over to the next orbit, absorbing 16 × 10⁻¹² ergs

of energy in the process, and so becoming temporarily a reservoir of

energy holding 16 × 10⁻¹² ergs. If the atom is in any way disturbed

from outside, it may of course discharge the energy at any time, or it

may absorb still more energy and so increase its store.

If we know all the orbits which are possible for an atom of any

type, it is easy to calculate the changes of energy involved in the

various transitions between them. As each transition absorbs or

releases exactly one quantum of energy, we can immediately deduce the

frequencies of the light emitted or absorbed in these transitions.

In brief, given the arrangement of atomic orbits, we can calculate

the spectrum of the atom. In practice the problem of course takes the

converse form: given the spectrum, to find the structure of the atom

which emits it. Bohr’s model of the hydrogen atom is a good model

at least to this extent—that the spectrum it would emit reproduces

the hydrogen spectrum almost exactly. Yet the agreement is not quite

perfect, and it is now generally accepted that Bohr’s scheme of orbits

is inadequate to account for actual spectra. We continue to discuss

Bohr’s scheme, not because the atom is actually built that way, but

because it provides a good enough working model for our present purpose.

An essential, although at first sight somewhat unexpected, feature of

the whole theory is that even if the hydrogen atom charged with its 16

× 10⁻¹² ergs of energy is left entirely undisturbed, the electron must,

after a certain time, lapse back spontaneously to its original smaller

orbit, ejecting its 16 × 10⁻¹² ergs of energy in the form of radiation

in so doing. Einstein shewed that, if this were not so, then Planck’s

well-established “cavity-radiation” law could not be true. Thus a

collection of hydrogen atoms in which the electrons describe orbits

larger than the smallest possible orbit is similar to a collection of

uranium or other radio-active atoms, in that the atoms spontaneously

fall back to their states of lower energy as the result merely of the

passage of time.

The electron orbits in more complicated atoms have much the same

general arrangement as in the hydrogen atom, but are different in size.

In the hydrogen atom the electron normally falls, after sufficient

time, to the orbit of lowest energy and stays there. It might be

thought by analogy that in more complicated atoms in which several

electrons are describing orbits, all the electrons would in time

fall into the orbit of lowest energy and stay there. Such does not

prove to be the case. There is never room for more than one electron

in the same orbit. This is a special aspect of a general principle

which appears to dominate the whole of physics. It has a name—“the

exclusion-principle”—but this is about all as yet; we have hardly

begun to understand it. In another of its special aspects it becomes

identical with the old familiar corner-stone of science which asserts

that two different pieces of matter cannot occupy the same space at

the same time. Without understanding the underlying principle, we

can accept the fact that two electrons not only cannot occupy the

same space, but cannot even occupy the same orbit. It is as though

in some way the electron spread itself out so as to occupy the whole

of its orbit, thus leaving room for no other. No doubt this must not

be accepted as a literal picture of things, and yet it seems not

improbable that the orbits of lowest energy in the hydrogen atom are

possible orbits just because the electron can completely fill them, and

that adjacent orbits are impossible because the electron would fill

them ¾ or 1½ times over, and similarly for more complicated atoms.

In this connection it is perhaps significant that no single known

phenomenon of physics makes it possible to say that at a given instant

an electron is at such or such a point in an orbit of lowest energy;

such a statement appears to be quite meaningless, and the condition of

an atom is apparently specified with all possible precision by saying

that at a given instant an electron is in such an orbit, as it would

be, for instance, if the electron had spread itself out into a ring.

We cannot say the same of other orbits. As we pass to orbits of higher

energy, and so of greater diameter, the indeterminateness gradually

assumes a different form, and finally becomes of but little importance.

Whatever form the electron may assume while it is describing a little

orbit near the nucleus, by the time it is describing a very big

orbit far out it has become a plain material particle charged with

electricity.

Thus, whatever the reason may be, electrons which are describing orbits

in the same atom must all be in different orbits. The electrons in

their orbits are like men on a ladder; just as no two men can stand on

the same rung, so no two electrons can ever follow one another round in

the same orbit. The neon atom, for instance, with 10 electrons, is in

its normal state of lowest energy when its 10 electrons each occupy one

of the 10 orbits whose energy is lowest. For reasons which the quantum

theory has at last succeeded in elucidating, there are, in every atom,

two orbits in which the energy is equal and lower than in any other

orbit. After this come eight orbits of equal but substantially higher

energy, then 18 orbits of equal but still higher energy, and so on.

As the electrons in each of these various groups of orbits all have

equal energy, they are commonly spoken of, in a graphic but misleading

phraseology, as rings of electrons. They are designated the _K_-ring,

the _L_-ring, the _M_-ring and so on. The _K_-ring, which is nearest

to the nucleus, has room for two electrons only. Any further electrons

are pushed out into the _L_-ring, which has room for eight electrons,

all describing orbits which are different but of equal energy. If still

more electrons remain to be accommodated they must go into the _M_-ring

and so on.

In their normal states, the hydrogen atom has one electron in its

_K_-ring, while the helium atom has two, the _L_, _M_, and higher rings

being unoccupied. The atom of next higher complexity, the lithium

atom, has three electrons, and as only two can be accommodated in its

_K_-ring, one has to wander round in the outer spaces of the _L_-ring.

In beryllium with four electrons, two are driven out into the _L_-ring.

And so it goes on, until we reach neon with 10 electrons, by which time

the _L_-ring as well as the inner _K_-ring is full up. In the next

atom, sodium, one of the 11 electrons is driven out into the still

more remote _M_-ring, and so on. Provided the electrons are not being

excited by radiation or other stimulus, each atom sinks in time to a

state in which its electrons are occupying its orbits of lowest energy,

one in each.

So far as our experience goes, an atom, as soon as it reaches this

state, becomes a true perpetual motion machine, the electrons

continuing to move in their orbits (at any rate on Bohr’s theory)

without any of the energy of their motion being dissipated away,

either in the form of radiation or otherwise. It seems astonishing and

quite incomprehensible that an atom in such a state should not be able

to yield up its energy still further, but, so far as our experience

goes, it cannot. And this property, little though we understand it,

is, in the last resort, responsible for keeping the universe in

being. If no restriction of this kind intervened, the whole material

energy of the universe would disappear in the form of radiation in

a few thousand-millionth parts of a second. If the normal hydrogen

atom were capable of emitting radiation in the way demanded by the

nineteenth-century laws of physics, it would, as a direct consequence

of this emission of radiation, begin to shrink at the rate of over a

metre a second, the electron continually falling to orbits of lower and

lower energy. After about a thousand-millionth part of a second the

nucleus and the electron would run into one another, and the whole atom

would probably disappear in a flash of radiation. By prohibiting any

emission of radiation except by complete quanta, and by prohibiting any

emission at all when there are no quanta available for dissipation, the

quantum theory succeeds in keeping the universe in existence as a going

concern.

It is difficult to form even the remotest conception of the realities

underlying all these phenomena. The recent branch of physics known as

“wave-mechanics” is at present groping after an understanding, but

so far progress has been in the direction of co-ordinating observed

phenomena rather than in getting down to realities. Indeed it may

be doubted whether we shall ever properly understand the realities

ultimately involved; they may well be so fundamental as to be beyond

the grasp of the human mind.

It is just for this reason that modern theoretical physics is so

difficult to explain, and so difficult to understand. It is easy to

explain the motion of the earth round the sun in the solar system.

We see the sun in the sky; we feel the earth under our feet, and the

concept of motion is familiar to us from everyday experience. How

different when we try to explain the analogous motion of the electron

round the proton in the hydrogen atom! Neither you nor I have any

direct experience of either electrons or protons, and no one has so

far any inkling of what they are really like. So we agree to make a

sort of model in which the electron and proton are represented by the

simplest things known to us, tiny hard spheres. The model works well

for a time and then suddenly breaks in our hands. In the new light of

the wave-mechanics, the hard sphere is seen to be hopelessly inadequate

to represent the electron. A hard sphere has always a definite position

in space; the electron apparently has not. A hard sphere takes up a

very definite amount of room, an electron—well, it is probably as

meaningless to discuss how much room an electron takes up as it is

to discuss how much room a fear, an anxiety or an uncertainty takes

up, but if we are pressed to say how much room an electron takes

up, perhaps the best answer is that it takes up the whole of space.

A hard sphere moves from one point to the next; our model electron,

jumping from orbit to orbit in the model hydrogen atom certainly

does not behave like any hard sphere of our waking experience, and

the real electron—if there is any such thing as a real electron in

an atom—probably even less. Yet as our minds have so far failed to

conceive any better picture of the atom than this very imperfect model,

we can only proceed by describing phenomena in terms of it.

THE MECHANICAL EFFECTS OF RADIATION

The more compact an electrical structure is, the greater the amount of

energy necessary to disturb it; and, as this energy must be supplied

in the form of a single quantum, the greater the energy of the quantum

must be, and so the shorter the wave-length of the radiation. A very

compact structure can only be disturbed by radiation of very short

wave-length.

A ship heading into a rough sea runs most risk of damage, and its

passengers most risk of discomfort, when its length is about equal to

the length of the waves. Short waves disturb a short ship and long

waves a long ship, but a long swell does little harm to either. But

this provides no real analogy with the effects of radiation, since

the wave-length of radiation which breaks up an electrical structure

is hundreds of times the size of the structure. The nautical analogy

to such radiation is a very long swell indeed. As a rough working

guide we may say that an electrical structure will only be disturbed

by radiation whose wave-length is about equal to 860 times the

dimensions of the structure, and will only be broken up by radiation

whose wave-length is below this limit[14]. In brief, the reason why

blue light affects photographic plates, while red light does not, is

that the wave-length of blue light is less, and that of red light is

greater, than 860 times the diameter of the molecule of silver bromide;

we must get below the “860-limit” before anything begins to happen.

[14] The mathematician will readily see the reason for this rule, which

is, in brief, as follows: the energy needed to separate two electric

charges + _e_ and - _e_, at a distance _r_ apart, is _e_²/_r_, and the

energy needed to re-arrange or break up a structure of electrons and

protons of linear dimensions _r_ will generally be comparable with

this. If λ is the wave-length of the requisite radiation, the energy

made available by the absorption of this radiation is the quantum

_hC_/λ. Combining this with the circumstance that the value of _h_ is

very approximately

_e_²

860 —————,

_C_

we find that the requisite wave-length of radiation is about 860 times

the dimensions of the structure to be broken up.

When an atom discharges its reservoir of stored energy, the light

it emits has necessarily the same wave-length as the light which it

absorbed in originally storing up this energy; the two quanta of energy

being equal, their wave-lengths are the same. It follows that the light

emitted by any electrical structure will also have a wave-length of

about 860 times the dimensions of the structure. Ordinary visible light

is emitted mainly by atoms, and so has a wave-length equal to about 860

atomic diameters. Indeed it is just because it has this wave-length

that the light acts on the atoms of our retina, and so is visible.

Radiation of this wave-length disturbs only the outermost electrons

in an atom, but radiation of much shorter wave-length may have much

more devastating effects; X-radiation, for instance, may break up the

far more compact inner rings of electrons, the _K_-ring, _L_-ring,

etc., of the atomic structure. Radiation of still shorter wave-length

may even disturb the protons and electrons of the nucleus. For the

nuclei, like the atoms themselves, are structures of positive and

negative electrical charges, and so must behave similarly with respect

to the radiation falling upon them, except for the wide difference

in the wave-length of the radiation. Ellis and others have found

that the γ-radiation emitted during the disintegration of the atoms

of the radio-active element radium-B has wave-lengths of 3·52, 4·20,

4·80, 5·13, and 23 × 10⁻¹⁰ cms. These wave-lengths are only about a

hundred-thousandth part of those of visible light, the reason being

that the atomic nucleus has only about a hundred-thousandth part the

dimensions of the complete atom. Radiation of such wave-lengths ought

to be just as effective in re-arranging the nucleus of radium-B as that

of 100,000 times longer wave-length is effective in re-arranging the

hydrogen atom.

Since the wave-length of the radiation absorbed or emitted by an atom

is inversely proportional to the quantum of energy, the quantum needed

to “work” the atomic nucleus must have something like 100,000 times the

energy of that needed to “work” the atom. If the hydrogen atom is a

penny-in-the-slot machine, nothing less than five-hundred-pound notes

will work the nuclei of the radio-active atoms.

The radio-active nuclei, like those of nitrogen and oxygen, could

probably be broken up by a sufficiently intense bombardment, although

the experimental evidence on this point is not very definite. If so,

each bombarding particle would have to bring to the attack an energy

of motion equal at least to that of one quantum of the radiation in

question, this requiring it to move with an enormously high speed.

Matter at sufficiently high temperatures contains an abundant supply

both of quanta of high energy, and of particles moving with high speeds.

TEMPERATURE-RADIATION. We speak in ordinary life of a red-heat or a

white-heat, meaning the heat to which a substance must be raised to

emit red or white light respectively. The filament in a carbon-filament

lamp is said to be raised to a red-heat, that in a gas-filled lamp to

a yellow-heat. It is not necessary to specify the substance we are

dealing with; if carbon emits a red light at a temperature of 3000°,

then tungsten or any other substance, raised to this same temperature,

will emit exactly the same red light as the carbon, and the same is

true for other colours of radiation. Thus each colour, and so also

each wave-length of radiation, has a definite temperature associated

with it, this being the temperature at which this particular colour

is most abundant in the spectroscopic analysis of the light emitted

by a hot body. As soon as this particular temperature begins to be

approached, but not before, radiation of the wave-length in question

becomes plentiful; at temperatures well below this it is quite

inappreciable[15].

[15] The wave-length λ of the radiation and the associated temperature

_T_ (measured in Centigrade degrees absolute) are connected through the

well-known relation:

λ_T_ = 0·2855 cm. degree.

Just as we speak of a red-heat or a white-heat, we might, although we

do not do so, quite legitimately speak of an X-ray heat or a γ-ray

heat. The shorter the wave-length of the radiation, the higher the

temperature specially associated with it. Thus as we make a substance

hotter and hotter, it emits light of ever shorter wave-length, and

runs in succession through the whole rainbow of colours—red, orange,

yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. We cannot command a sufficient

range of temperature to perform the complete experiment in the

laboratory, but nature performs it for us in the stars.

THE EFFECTS OF HEAT. We have already seen that radiation of

short wave-length is needed to break up an electric structure of

small dimensions. As short wave-lengths are associated with high

temperatures, it now appears that the smaller an electrical structure

is, the greater the heat needed to break it up. And we can calculate

the temperature at which an electric structure of given dimensions will

first begin to break up under the influence of heat[16].

[16] On combining the relation just given between _T_ and λ with

that implied in the rough law of the “860-limit,” we find that a

structure whose dimensions are _r_ cms. will begin to be broken up by

temperature-radiation when the temperature first approaches ¹/₃₀₀₀_r_

degrees.

For instance, an ordinary atom with a diameter of about 4 × 10⁻⁸ cms.

will first be broken up at temperatures of the order of thousands

of degrees. To take a definite example, yellow light of wave-length

0·00006 cm. is specially associated with the temperature 4800 degrees;

this temperature represents an average “yellow-heat.” At temperatures

well below this, yellow light only occurs when it is artificially

created. But stars, and all other bodies, at a temperature of 4800

degrees emit yellow light naturally, and show lines in the yellow

region of their spectrum, because yellow light removes the outermost

electron from the atoms of calcium and similar elements. The electrons

in the calcium atom begin to be disturbed when a temperature of 4800

degrees begins to be approached, but not before. This temperature

is not approached on earth (except in the electric arc and other

artificial conditions), so that terrestrial calcium atoms are generally

at rest in their states of lowest energy.

To take another instance, the shortest wave-length of radiation emitted

in the transformation of uranium is about 0·5 × 10⁻¹⁰ cms., and this

corresponds to the enormously high temperature of 5,800,000,000

degrees. When some such temperature begins to be approached, but not

before, the constituents of the radio-active nuclei ought to begin to

re-arrange themselves, just as the constituents of the calcium atom do

when a temperature of 4800 degrees is approached[17]. This of course

explains why no temperature we can command on earth has any appreciable

effect in expediting or inhibiting radio-active disintegration.

[17] If we suppose that re-arrangements of an electric structure

can also be effected by bombarding it with material particles, the

temperature at which bombardment by electrons, nuclei, or molecules

first becomes effective is about the same as that at which radiation of

the effective wave-length would first begin to be appreciable; the two

processes begin at approximately the same temperature.

The table on p. 144 shews the wave-lengths of the radiation necessary

to effect various atomic transformations. The last two columns shew

the corresponding temperatures, and the kind of place, so far as we

know, where this temperature is to be found, these latter entries

anticipating certain results which will be given in detail in Chapter

V below (p. 288). In places where the temperature is far below that

mentioned in the last column but one, the transformation in question

cannot be affected by heat, and so can only occur spontaneously. Thus

it is entirely a one-way process. The available radiation not being

of sufficiently short wave-length to work the atomic slot machine,

the atoms absorb no energy from the surrounding radiation and so are

continually slipping back into states of lower energy, if such exist.

HIGHLY PENETRATING RADIATION

The shortest wave-lengths we have so far had under discussion are those

of the γ-rays, but the last line of the table refers to radiation

with a wave-length of only about a four-hundredth part of that of the

shortest of γ-rays.

Since 1902, various investigators, Rutherford, Cooke, McLennan, Burton,

Kolhörster and Millikan in particular, have found that the earth’s

atmosphere is continually being traversed by radiation which has

enormously higher penetrating power than any known γ-rays. By sending

up balloons to great heights, Hess, Kolhörster, and later Millikan and

Bowen, have shewn that the radiation is noticeably more intense at

great heights, thus proving that it comes into the earth’s atmosphere

from outside. If the radiation had its origin in the sun and stars, the

main part of the radiation received on earth would come from the sun,

and the radiation would be more intense by day than by night. This is

found not to be the case, so that the radiation cannot come from the

stars, and so must originate in nebulae or cosmic masses other than

stars. Millikan is confident that its sources lie outside the galactic

system.

_The Mechanical Effects of Radiation_

+------------+-----------+----------------+-------------+-----------+

|Wave-lengths| Nature of | Effect on Atom | Temperature | Where |

| (cms.) | Radiation | | (deg. abs.) | found |

+------------+-----------+----------------+-------------+-----------+

|7500 × 10⁻⁸ | Visible | Disturbs | 3,850°| Stellar |

| to | light | outermost | to |atmospheres|

|3750 × 10⁻⁸ | | electrons | 7,700°| |

| | | | | |

| 250 × 10⁻⁸ | X-rays | Disturbs inner | 115,000°| Stellar |

| to | | electrons | to | interiors |

| 10⁻⁸ | | | 29,000,000°| |

| | | | | |

| 5 × 10⁻⁹ | Soft | Strip off all | 58,000,000°| Central |

| to | γ-rays | or nearly all | to |regions of |

| 10⁻⁹ | | electrons | 290,000,000°|dense stars|

| | | | | |

| 4 × 10⁻¹⁰| γ-rays of |Disturbs nuclear| 720,000,000°| ? |

| | radium-B | arrangement | | |

| | | | | |

| 5 × 10⁻¹¹| Shortest | —— | 5.8 × 10⁹ °| |

| | γ-rays | | | |

| | | | | |

| 1·3 × 10⁻¹²| Highly |Annihilation or | 2.2 × 10¹² °| |

| |penetrating| creation of | | |

| | radiation | proton and | | |

| | (?) | accompanying | | |

| | | electron | | |

+------------+-----------+----------------+-------------+-----------+

The amount of the radiation is very great. Even at sea-level, where

it is least, Millikan and Cameron find that it breaks up about 1·4

atoms in every cubic centimetre of air each second. It must break up

millions of atoms in each of our bodies every second—and we do not

know what its physiological effects may be. The total energy of the

radiation received on earth is just about a tenth of that of the total

radiation, light and heat together, received from all the stars. This

does not mean that light and heat are ten times as abundant as this

radiation in the universe as a whole. For if the radiation originates

in extra-galactic regions, then the stars which send us light and heat

are comparatively near, while the sources of the highly penetrating

radiation are far more remote. On taking an average through the whole

of space, including the vast stretches of internebular space, it seems

likely that the highly penetrating radiation is far more plentiful than

stellar light and heat, and so is the most abundant form of radiation

in the whole universe.

It is the most penetrating form of radiation known. Ordinary light will

hardly pass through metals or solid substances at all; only a tiny

fraction emerges through the thinnest of gold-leaf. On account of their

shorter wave-length, and so of their more energetic quanta, X-rays will

pass through foils of a few millimetres thickness of gold or of lead.

The most highly penetrating γ-rays from radium-B will pass through

inches of lead. The radiation we have just been discussing varies in

penetrating power; the most penetrating part of it will pass through 16

feet of lead.

It is not altogether clear whether the radiation is of the nature of

very short γ-radiation or is of a corpuscular nature, like β-radiation;

it may even be a mixture of both. Its penetrating power far exceeds

that of any known β-radiation, so that if it is corpuscular, the

corpuscles must be moving with very nearly the velocity of light.

If, as seems far more likely, the radiation is, in part at least, of

the nature of γ-radiation, then it ought to be possible to determine

its wave-length from its penetrating power. Until quite recently

different theories on the relation between the two have been in the

field. The latest theory of all, that of Klein and Nishina, which

is more perfect and more complete than any of the earlier theories,

assigns to the most penetrating part of the radiation the amazingly

short wave-length of 1·3 × 10⁻¹³ cms., as indicated in the table on p.

144.

We perhaps get the clearest conception of what this means if we apply

the 860-rule; this shews that the radiation would break up an electric

structure whose dimensions are only about 10⁻¹⁶ cms. No structure

formed of electrons and protons can possibly be as small as this, for

the radius of a single electron is about 2 × 10⁻¹³ cms. The radiation

is of about the wave-length needed to break up the proton itself, the

smallest and most compact structure known to science.

Approaching the problem from another angle, the numerical relations

already given shew that a quantum of radiation of this wave-length

must have energy equal to 0·0015 erg, and so must have a weight of

about 1·66 × 10⁻²⁴ grammes. Every physicist recognises this weight at

once, for the best determinations give the weight of the hydrogen atom

as 1·662 × 10⁻²⁴ grammes. The quantum of highly penetrating radiation

has, then, just about the weight, and just about the energy, that would

result from a complete hydrogen atom suddenly being annihilated and

having all its energy set free as radiation.

It can hardly be supposed that all the highly penetrating radiation

received on earth has its origin in the annihilation of hydrogen atoms.

If for no other reason, there are probably not enough hydrogen atoms

in the universe for such a hypothesis to be tenable. The hydrogen atom

consists of a proton and an electron, and its weight is roughly the

same as the combined weight of a proton and an electron selected from

any atom in the universe, so that, to a near enough approximation, the

quantum of highly penetrating radiation has the wave-length and energy

which would result from a proton and electron in any atom whatever

coalescing and annihilating one another. We have seen how the weights

of the different known types of atoms approximate to integral multiples

of the weight of the hydrogen atom, or to be more precise, differ by

almost exactly equal steps, each of which is about equal to the weight

of the hydrogen atom. The weight of the quantum of highly penetrating

radiation is equal to the change of weight represented by a single

step, so that the quantum could be produced by any transformation which

degraded the weight of an atom by a single step. In the most general

case possible, this degradation of weight must, so far as we can see,

arise from the coalescence of a proton and electron, with the resulting

annihilation of both.

While this seems far and away the most probable source of this

radiation, it is not the only conceivable source. For instance, the

most abundant isotope of xenon, of atomic number 54 and atomic weight

129, is built up of 129 protons, 75 nuclear electrons and 54 orbital

electrons. The sudden building up of such an atom out of 129 protons

and 129 electrons would involve a loss of weight just about equal to

the weight of the hydrogen atom. If the building took place absolutely

simultaneously, so that the whole of the liberated energy was emitted

catastrophically as a single quantum, this quantum would have about

the same wave-length and penetrating power as the observed highly

penetrating radiation. Some time ago Millikan suggested the formation

of other complex atoms out of simpler constituents as a possible source

of the radiation, but it now appears that the schemes he propounded

would not result in radiation of sufficiently short wave-length, at any

rate if the modern Klein-Nishina theory is correct.

On the physical evidence alone, such schemes cannot be dismissed as

impossible, but they must be treated as suspect on account of their

high improbability. The xenon atom with its 258 constituent parts is

a highly complicated structure, and it is exceedingly hard to believe

that all these 258 parts could be hammered into a fully-formed atom by

a single instantaneous act, accompanied by the catastrophic emission

of only one quantum of radiation. If atoms ever are built up out of

simpler constituents—and there is no evidence whatever that this

process ever occurs in nature—it seems so much more likely that the

aggregation would take place by distinct stages, and that the radiation

would be emitted in a number of small quanta rather than in one large

quantum. Moreover, any such hypothesis has to explain the numerical

agreement of the calculated weight of the observed quanta of radiation

with the known weight of the hydrogen atom as a pure coincidence. Not

only so, but also we have to suppose that atoms of xenon, and possibly

others of approximately the same atomic weight, are formed far more

frequently than atoms of other atomic weights. Indeed the amount of the

highly penetrating radiation received on earth is so great that if it

were evidence of the creation of xenon, a large part of the universe

ought already to consist of xenon, mixed perhaps with elements of

nearly equal atomic weight. So far is this from being the case, that

xenon and its neighbours in the atomic weight table are among the

rarest of elements. For these reasons, and on the general principle

that the simpler and more natural hypothesis is always to be given

preference in science, we may say that the annihilation of electrons

and protons forms a more probable and more acceptable origin for the

observed highly penetrating radiation.

We may leave the problem in this state of uncertainty for the present,

because it will appear later that astronomy has some evidence to give

on the question.

The universe around us · 第 3 / 7 章