CHAPTER XXII.

Evaporation—Distribution of Vapour—Dew—Hoar-Frost—Fog—Region of Clouds—

Forms of Clouds—Rain—Distribution of Rain—Quantity—Number of rainy

Days in different Latitudes—Rainless Districts—Snow Crystals—Line of

perpetual Snow—Limit of Winter Snow on the Plains—Sleet—Hail—

Minuteness of the ultimate Particles of Matter—Their Densities and

Forms—Their Action on Light—Colour of Bodies—Colour of the Atmosphere—

Its Absorption and Reflection of Light—Mirage—Fog Images—Coronæ and

Halos—The Rainbow—Iris in Dewdrops—The Polarization of the Atmosphere—

Atmospheric Electricity—Its Variations—Electricity of Fogs and Rain—

Inductive Action of the Earth—Lightning—Thunder—Distribution of

Thunder-Storms—Back Stroke—St. Elmo’s Fire—Phosphorescence—Aurora—

Magnetism—Terrestrial Magnetism—The Dip—Magnetic Poles and Equator—

Magnetic Intensity—Dynamic Equator—Declination—Magnetic Meridian—Lines

of equal Variation—Horary Variations—Line of Alternate Horary

Phenomena—Magnetic Storms—Coincidence of the Lines of equal Magnetic

Intensity with Mountain Chains—Diamagnetism.

MOISTURE is evaporated in an invisible form from every part of the land

and water, and at all temperatures, even from snow. Mr. Darwin mentions

that the snow once entirely disappeared from the volcano of Aconcagua,

in Chile, which is 23,300 feet high, from evaporation under a cloudless

sky and an excessively dry air. The vapour rises and mixes with the

atmosphere; and as its pressure and density diminish with the height

above the surface of the earth, in consequence of gravitation, there is

absolutely less moisture in the higher than in the lower regions of the

air.

Seven-tenths of the atmosphere rests on the ocean; therefore the sea has

the greatest influence in modifying climates and supplying the air with

moisture. The evaporation is greatest between the tropics, from the

excess of heat and the preponderance of the ocean, and its average

quantity decreases from thence to the poles. Over the open sea, in all

latitudes, the air is saturated with moisture; and in that over the

coasts the quantity is very great, but it diminishes from the coasts to

the interior of the continents. In the interior of the United States of

North America, in the deserts of Asia, and in the interior of New

Holland, the air is continually dry. There is scarcely any evaporation

in the deserts of Africa, and the extreme heat, increased by the

reverberation of the sand, opposes aqueous precipitations, so this land

is doomed to perpetual sterility. The air over the steppes of Siberia is

likewise nearly deprived of moisture. The greatest degree of dryness on

record is that observed by M. Erman between the valleys of the Irtish

and Obi, after a continued south-west wind and a temperature of 74° 7ʹ

of Fahrenheit.

Throughout all the countries in the northern hemisphere where

observations have been made on the variations of atmospheric moisture,

it appears that the air contains less vapour in January than in any

other month of the year, yet at that time there is the greatest

dampness; while in July the air is driest, and yet, on account of the

heat, evaporation is the greatest: the reason is, that the heat in July

dissolves the moisture and increases its elasticity or tension so much

that it becomes insensible, whereas the cold of winter condenses it and

renders it apparent.

The quantity of atmospheric moisture varies also with the hours of the

day and night. In early morning the evaporation accumulates near the

surface of the ground from the resistance of the air above it, but as

the sun rises above the horizon the warm air descends and carries the

vapour with it; so that the quantity near the ground is diminished till

evening, when, on account of the lowness of the temperature, the

ascending currents cease, and the air becomes loaded with vapour, and

deposits its excess in the shape of dew or hoar-frost. For in the night

the earth radiates part of the heat it received during the day through

the atmosphere into space, and the temperature of the bodies on its

surface sinks below that of the air; and by abstracting part of the heat

which holds the humidity of the air in solution a deposition takes

place. If the radiation be great, the dew is frozen and becomes

hoar-frost, which is the ice of dew. Cloudy weather is unfavourable for

the formation of dew by preventing the free radiation of heat, and

actual contact is necessary for its formation, as it is never suspended

in the air like fog. Dew falls in calm serene nights, but not on all

substances indifferently; it wets them in proportion to their power of

radiation, leaving those dry that radiate feebly or not at all. Dew is

most abundant on coasts; in the interior of continents there is very

little, except near lakes or rivers. When dew is congealed into

hoar-frost it forms beautiful crystals, and the cold which produces it

is very hurtful to vegetation, but a slight covering preserves plants

from its effects.

When the atmosphere is so saturated with the vapour of water that it is

precipitated in the air itself, a fog is the result, which consists of

small globular particles of water. When dew is formed the earth is

colder than the air in contact with it; but the case is exactly the

contrary when fogs take place, the moist soil being warmer than the air.

In countries where the soil is moist and warm, and the air damp and

cold, thick and frequent fogs arise, as in England, where the coasts are

washed by a sea of elevated temperature, and the excess of the heat of

the Gulf-stream above the cold moist air is the cause of the perpetual

fogs in Newfoundland.

Superior to all these phenomena, and at a considerable height above the

earth, the air is very dry, because, under ordinary circumstances, the

vapour ascends in a highly elastic and invisible state till it reaches a

stratum of air of lower temperature, and then it is condensed into

clouds. The region of clouds is a zone at a height varying from one to

four miles above the surface of the earth, which is saturated with

moisture. From friction and other causes the currents of air in the

lower parts of that zone run horizontally on each other; and as they

generally differ in moisture, temperature, and velocity, the colder

condense the invisible vapour in the warmer, and make it apparent in the

form of a cloud, which differs in no respect from a fog, except that one

floats high in the air, while the other rests on the ground.

At moderate heights clouds consist of vapour, but at great elevations,

where the cold is severe, they are an assemblage of minute crystals of

ice. They assume three primary characters, from whence four subordinate

forms are derived. The cirrus, or cat’s-tail of sailors, is the highest;

it sometimes resembles a white brush, at other times it consists of

horizontal bands of slender silvery filaments. To these all Kämtz’s

measurements assign a height of 19,500 feet, which is confirmed by their

appearance being the same when seen from the tops of mountains or from

the plains; consequently, they must consist of minute particles of ice

or flakes of snow floating in the higher regions of the zone of clouds.

The cirri for the most part arrange themselves in parallel bands which

converge to opposite points in the horizon by the effects of

perspective, and as they travel in their longitudinal direction they

appear to be stationary. In the middle and higher latitudes of the

northern hemisphere they tend from south-west to north-east, and at the

equator from south to north. It is supposed that their parallel form

arises from their being conductors between two foci of electricity, but,

whatever the cause of this arrangement may be, it is very extensive.

Among these clouds, which occasionally appear like fleecy cotton or

wool, halos and parhelia are formed, which often precede a change of

weather, announcing rain in summer, in winter frost and snow.

Cumuli, or summer-clouds, are rounded forms resting on a straight band

in the horizon, and resemble mountains covered with snow. They are

formed by ascending currents drawing the vapours into the higher regions

of the atmosphere; sometimes they rise and cover the whole sky, and in

the evening they frequently become more numerous and of deeper tint,

presaging storm or rain.

The stratus is the third of the primary characters of clouds: it is a

horizontal band, which forms at sunset and vanishes at sunrise. The

subordinate varieties of clouds are combinations of these three

principal classes.[139] The winds, the great agents in all atmospheric

changes, carry the vapour to a distance, where it is often condensed on

the tops of mountains into clouds which seem to be stationary, but which

in reality are only maintained by a constant condensation of fresh

vapour, which is carried off, as soon as formed, by the wind, and

becomes invisible on entering warmer air.

When two masses of air of different temperature meet, the colder, by

abstracting the heat which holds the moisture in solution, causes the

particles to coalesce and form drops of water, which fall in the shape

of rain by their gravitation. And when two strata of different

temperature moving rapidly in contrary directions come into contact, a

heavy fall of rain takes place; and as the quantity of aqueous vapour is

most abundant in tropical regions, the drops are larger and the rain

heavier than elsewhere.

Since heat is the cause of evaporation, rain is very unequally

distributed, and with it decreases from the equator to the poles. From

the island of Otaheite [Tahiti], in the Pacific, to Uleaborg, in

Finland, the annual quantity of rain that falls decreases from 150

inches to 13. It is, however, more abundant in the New World than in the

Old; 115 inches fall annually in tropical America, while in the Old

World the annual fall is only 76 inches; so also in the temperate zone

of the United States the annual quantity is 37 inches, while in the Old

Continent it is but 31-3/4 inches.

Between the tropics the rains follow the sun: when he is north of the

equator the rains prevail in the northern tropic; and when he is south

of that line, in the southern: hence, one half of the year is extremely

wet and the other half extremely dry; the change taking place near the

equinoxes. Nevertheless, in countries situate between the 5th and 10th

parallels of latitude, north and south, there are two rainy seasons, and

two dry; one occurs when the sun passes the zenith in his progress to

the nearest tropic, and the other at his return, but in the latter the

rains are less violent and of shorter duration. Although the quantity of

water which falls between the tropics in a month is greater than that of

a whole year in Europe, yet the number of rainy days increases with the

latitude, so that there are fewest where the quantity is greatest.

Neither does it fall continually during the rainy season between the

tropics, for the sky is generally clear at sunrise, it becomes cloudy at

ten in the morning, at noon the rain begins to fall, and, after pouring

for four or five hours, the clouds vanish at sunset, and not a drop

falls in the night, so that a day of uninterrupted rain is very rare.

At sea, within the region of the trade-winds, it seldom rains, but in

the narrow zone between them known as the _Variables_, in both the great

oceans, it rains almost continually, attended by violent thunder and

lightning.

Throughout the whole region where the monsoons prevail, it is not the

sun, directly, but the winds, that regulate the periodical rains. That

region extends from the eastern coasts of Africa and Madagascar across

the Indian Ocean to the northern districts of Australia, and from the

tropic of Capricorn to the face of the Himalaya, the interior of China,

and even to Corea, inclusive. In these countries the western coasts are

watered during the south-west monsoon, which prevails from April to

October; and the eastern coasts are watered during the north-east

monsoon, which blows from October to April. For example, the south-west

wind condenses the vapour on the summit of the Ghauts, and violent rains

fall daily on the coast of Malabar, while on the Coromandel coast the

sky is serene. Exactly the contrary takes place during the north-east

monsoon; it rains on the coast of Coromandel, while there is fair

weather on the Malabar coast, and the table-land of the Deccan partakes

of both. In the southern hemisphere the rainy season corresponds with

the south-west monsoon, and the dry with the south-eastern.

Between the tropics it rains rarely during the night, and for months

together not a drop falls; while in the temperate zone it often rains in

the night, and rain falls at all seasons, though more abundantly in some

than in others. It seldom rains in summer throughout the north of

Africa, Madeira, the southern parts of Spain and Portugal, Sicily,

southern Italy, all Greece, and the north-western part of Asia; but it

falls copiously during the other seasons, especially in winter;

consequently, that extensive region is called the province of winter

rains.

The province of autumnal rains includes all Europe south of the

Carpathians, western France, the delta of the Rhine, northern and

western Scandinavia, and the British isles; throughout these countries

more rain falls in autumn than in the other three seasons.

The province of summer rains comprises the eastern parts of France, the

Netherlands (with the exception of the delta of the Rhine), the north of

Switzerland, all Germany north of the Alps, the Carpathian mountains,

Denmark, southern Scandinavia, all central Europe, and the countries

beyond the Ural Mountains to the interior of Siberia, where showers are

very rare in winter. In some places it rains almost perpetually, as in

the island of Sitka, on the north-eastern coast of North America, where

the year has sometimes passed with only 40 days of fair weather.

In the southern hemisphere, in Chile and the south-western part of

America, winter is the rainy season, while on the eastern side of the

Cordilleras the rains occur in summer. In Tierra del Fuego and the

extreme point of the continent the two provinces meet, the periodical

precipitation disappears, and it snows and rains throughout the year in

torrents. At Cape Horn the quantity of rain which fell in 41 days

measured nearly 154 inches. This excessive fall of rain occurs along the

whole western shores of Patagonia, from the Straits of Magellan to Cape

Tres Montes—a circumstance favoured by the high and rugged coasts, and

the incessant westerly winds, which carry the vapour exhaled from the

ocean to be precipitated here in the form of rain.

South Africa and Australia resemble each other in their rainy seasons,

which in both countries take place in the winter months.

The annual amount of rain at the equator is 95 inches, which falls in 78

or 80 days, giving an average of 1·14 inch daily; while at St.

Petersburg the annual amount is 17 inches, which falls in 169 days, the

average being little more than the tenth of an inch daily.

The quantity of rain decreases in ascending from the plains to

table-lands, especially if these be edged by mountains, because they

precipitate the vapour before it arrives at the high plains. On the

contrary, the quantity increases in ascending from plains to the tops or

slopes of rugged mountains, on account of partial currents of air which

condense the moisture into clouds.

The quantity of rain decreases on receding from the coasts into the

interior of continents, because more vapour rises from the sea than from

the land. The vapour from the Gulf-stream produces a greater quantity of

rain and fog in the southern counties of England and Ireland than that

which falls in the other parts of the islands.

The number of rainy days depends upon the direction of the wind. In

Europe, if the wind always blew from the north-east, it would never

rain, because it blows over a great extent of continent; whereas it

would never cease raining were the wind always to blow from the

south-west, because it would come loaded with vapour from the Atlantic.

Hence, the greatest quantity of rain falls on the west coasts of Great

Britain and Ireland, the coast of Scandinavia, the eastern Alps, and the

centre of Portugal; in the two last it depends partly on the height and

serrated form of the mountains. In western Europe it rains on twice as

many days as in the eastern part; in Ireland there are three times as

many rainy days as in Italy or Spain. In fact, on the western side of

Ireland it rains on 208 days out of the 365. In England, France, and the

north of Germany, there are from 152 to 155 rainy days in the year; the

number decreases towards the interior of the continent, so that in

Siberia it only rains on 60 days in the year.

There are enormous tracts of land on which rain never falls, and others

where it rains at long intervals and in small quantities. The most

extensive rainless district stretches from the borders of Morocco

eastward through the desert of Africa, the low coasts of Arabia, Persia,

and the desert province of Meekran, in Beloochistan, occupying a space

of 80 degrees of longitude and 17 of latitude. The desert of Gobi, on

the table-land of Tibet, and part of Mongolia, form another rainless

province in the great continent; while, in the New World, the rainless

districts are—the table-land of Mexico, part of Guatemala and

California, and the western declivity of the Andes of Peru, towards the

Pacific; in all occupying a surface equal to 5,500,000 square miles. The

whole of the moisture is intercepted by the Andes of Peru; so that rain

only occurs on the coast once or twice in a century—to the great terror

of the inhabitants when it does fall. [The absence of rain is here

compensated for by copious dews and mists, termed “llovisnas.”] South

Africa, and Australia beyond the tropics, suffer from droughts, which

are periodical in Australia; they recur in the countries of the eastern

coasts in a period of 12 years, and continue 3 years. The Pampas of

South America are also subject to droughts, though they do not appear to

be periodical, nor do they continue more than a season.[140]

When the temperature of the air is near the freezing-point or below it,

snow falls instead of rain; but the colder the air the less moisture

does it contain, consequently the less snow falls, which is the reason

of the comparatively small quantity on the high plains of the Himalaya

and Andes. Snow sometimes assumes the form of grains; but is generally

in regular crystals of great beauty, varying in form according to the

degree of cold. Captain Scoresby, whose voyages in the Polar Seas

afforded him constant opportunities of studying them, of which he so

diligently availed himself, mentions five principal kinds of snow

crystals, each of which had many varieties, in all amounting to 96. M.

Kämtz, however, is of opinion that there are several hundred.

Snow never falls between the tropics except on the tops of very high

mountains. The mean elevation of the line of perpetual snow above the

level of the sea in these hot regions is about 15,207 feet, from whence

it decreases on both sides, and at last grazes the surface of the earth

at the arctic and antarctic circles, subject however to various

flexures. In the Andes, near Quito, the lowest level has an elevation of

15,795 feet, which is higher than the top of Mont Blanc; from thence it

varies very irregularly, both to the north and south. In 18° of N. lat.

it descends to 14,772 feet on the mountains of Mexico, while on the

south it rises to 18,000 feet in some parts of the western Cordillera of

the Bolivian Andes, owing to the extensive radiation from the subjacent

plains and valleys. The line is at an altitude of 17,000 feet on the

western Cordillera, whence it sinks to 13,800 feet at Copiapo, to 12,780

near Valparaiso; it is only 8300 in the southern end of the Chilian

Andes, and 3390 in the Straits of Magellan. In lat. 31° N. the snow-line

is at an elevation of 12,981 feet on the southern side of the Himalaya,

and at 16,620 feet on the northern side, while Captain Gerard gives from

18,000 to 19,000 as its altitude on the mountains in the middle of the

plain of Tartary. On Mont Blanc the line is at the height of 8500 feet,

so that mountain is snow-clad for 7000 feet below its summit. In the

Pyrenees it is 8184 feet, and at the island of Mageroe it is at 2160

feet above the Polar Ocean.

In the southern hemisphere, snow never falls on the low lands at the

level of the sea north of the 48th parallel of latitude, on account of

the predominance of water, whereas in the northern hemisphere it falls

on the plains much nearer the equator, on account of the excess of land,

but its limit is a curved line, on account of the alternations of land

and water. In the western part of the great continent, the southern

limit of the fall of snow on the low lands nearly coincides with the

30th parallel of north latitude, so that it includes all Europe. In the

American continent it follows nearly the same line, extending through

the southern parts of the United States. In China, snow falls at the

level of the sea as far south as Canton; on the north-western coast of

America, on the contrary, it does not fall at that level till about the

48th degree of N. lat.—these are the two extremes. Although Europe lies

within the region of snow, the quantity that falls is very different in

different places, increasing greatly from south to north. On an average,

it snows only one day and a-half at Rome in the year, while at

Petersburg there are 171 snowy days, but in that city the quantity of

rain is to that of snow as 1000 to 384.

Sleet, which is formed of small particles of rounded hail, falls in

squally weather in spring and autumn. True hail, when large, is

pear-shaped, and consists of a nucleus of frozen snow coated with ice,

and sometimes with alternate layers of snow and ice. Hailstones have

often fallen as large as pigeons’ and even hens’ eggs. The masses and

blocks of ice of great size, which have not unfrequently fallen, appear

to have been formed of hailstones of large size frozen together. It

appears to be formed in the high cold regions of the atmosphere, by the

sudden condensation of vapour during the contention of opposing winds,

and is intimately connected with electricity, since its fall is

generally accompanied with thunder and lightning. Hail-showers are of

short duration, exceedingly partial, and extend over a country in long

narrow bands; one which took place on the 13th of July, 1788, began in

the morning in the south of France, and reached Holland in a few hours,

destroying a narrow line of country in its passage.

Local circumstances, no doubt, have a great influence on its formation;

it occurs more frequently in countries at a little distance from

mountains than in those close to them or farther off, and at all hours,

but most frequently at the hotter time of the day. In the interior of

Europe one half of the hail-storms take place in summer. Hail is very

rare on the tropical plains, and often altogether unknown, though it

frequently falls at heights of 1700 or 1800 feet above them. If the air

is very cold throughout the greater part of the stratum through which

hail falls, it is probably increased in size during its descent; and, on

the contrary, large drops of rain which precede a thunder-storm are

supposed to be hail melted in its passage through low warm air.

LIGHT.

We know nothing of the size of the ultimate particles of matter, except

that they must be inconceivably small, since organized beings possessing

life and exercising all its functions have been discovered so minute

that a million of them would occupy less space than a grain of sand.

The air is only visible when in mass; the smallest globule of steam

tells no more of its atoms than the ocean; the minutest grain of sand

magnified appears like the fragment of a rock—no mechanical division can

arrive at the indivisible. Although the ultimate atoms are beyond the

power of vision, chemical compounds show that the divisibility of matter

has a limit, and that the particles have different densities; moreover,

the cleavage of crystalline substances gives reason to believe that they

have different forms.[141] Thus, the reasoning power of man has come to

the aid of his imperfect sense of vision, so that what were before

imaginary things are now real beings with definite weights, and uniting

by fixed laws. Though nothing had been known of their size, their

effects were evident in the perceptions of sweet and sour, salt and

bitter, and in the endless varieties of aroma in the food we eat and the

liquors we drink. Moreover, their different densities are evident, as

they arise by their buoyancy in the perfume of the rose, or sink by

their weight in the heavy odour of mignonette. Every substance on earth

is merely a temporary compound of the ultimate atoms, sooner or later to

be resolved into its pristine elements, which are again to be combined

in other forms, and according to other laws; so that literally there is

nothing new under the sun, for there is no evidence of new matter being

added to the earth, nor of that which exists being annihilated. Fire,

which seems utterly to destroy, only resolves bodies into their

elementary parts, to become what they were before, the support of animal

or vegetable life, or to form new mineral compounds. It is to the action

of these particles on the light of the sun that nature owes all its

colours.

When a sunbeam passes through a glass prism[142] an oblong image of the

sun is formed, consisting of colours in the following order—red, orange,

yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Sir John Herschel discovered

lavender rays beyond the violet, and dark red rays exterior to the red,

which are not so easily brought into evidence as the rest.

Even the most transparent substances absorb light; air, water, the

purest crystal, stop some of the rays as they pass through them. A

portion of the light is also reflected from the surface of all bodies;

were it otherwise, they would be invisible. We should be unconscious of

the presence and form of material substances beyond our reach except by

the reflected rays,—

“The mist of light from whence they take their form

Hides what they are.”

As the same light does not come to all eyes, each person sees his own

rainbow, the same flower by different rays. White substances reflect all

the light, black substances absorb all but that which renders them

visible, while coloured bodies decompose the light, absorb some of the

colours, and reflect or transmit the rest. Thus, a violet absorbs all

but the violet rays, which it reflects; a red flower only reflects the

red and absorbs the rest; a yellow substance absorbs all but the yellow.

In the same manner transparent substances, whether solid or fluid,

absorb some colours and transmit others: thus, an emerald absorbs all

but the green, a ruby all but the red; whereas a diamond does not

decompose the light, but transmits every ray alike. Very few, however,

of the colours, whether transmitted or reflected, are pure, but the

substance takes its hue from the colour that predominates.

The atmosphere absorbs all the colours of the sun’s light except the

blue, which is its true colour. In countries where the air is pure, the

azure of the sky is deep; it is still more so at great elevations, where

the density of the air is less; and its colour is most beautiful as it

gradually softens the outlines of the mountains into extreme distance,

or blends the sea with the sky. The air reflects and scatters part of

the white solar beams, whence the brightness and cheerfulness of day;

that property, together with the refractive power of the aqueous vapour,

gives the roseate hue to the early morning, and the gold and scarlet

tints to the closing day. Were it not for the reflective power of the

air, the sun and moon would be like sharply-defined balls of fire in the

profoundly black vault of the heavens, and dark night would instantly

follow sunset. When the sun is 18 degrees below the horizon, the air, at

the height of 30 miles, is still dense enough to reflect his rays, and

divide the day from the night by the solar shades of twilight.

A considerable portion of the sun’s light is absorbed by the atmosphere:

the loss increases with the density and obliquity of incidence and the

density of the air. It is diminished 1300 times by the thickness of the

air in the horizon, which enables us to look at the sun when setting

without being dazzled.

Mirage, or the delusive appearance of water, so frequent in deserts, is

owing to the reflection of light between two strata of air of different

densities, occasioned by the radiation of heat from the arid soil. It is

very common on the extensive plains in Asia and Africa, and especially

in Upper Egypt; villages on small eminences above the plain appear as if

they were built on islands in the middle of a lake when the dry sandy

ground is heated by the mid-day sun. Sometimes objects appear double,

and occasionally several images appear above one another, some direct

and some inverted; this is particularly the case in high latitudes,

where the Icy Sea cools the stratum of air resting on it.[143]

In the polar regions, or on the tops of mountains, when the sun is in

the horizon the shadow of a person is sometimes thrown on an opposite

cloud or mist, the head being surrounded by concentric coloured rings or

circles, the number varying from one to five; Captain Scoresby saw four

of these rings, on one occasion, round the shadow of his head, as he

stood between the sun and a thick low fog: the first ring consisted of

concentric bands of white, yellow, red, and purple; the second consisted

of concentric bands of blue, green, yellow, red, and purple; the third

of green, white, yellowish white, red, and purple; and in the fourth

were greenish white, deeper on the edges. These appearances, called

_glories_, or fog-images, and the coronæ or small concentric coloured

circles which surround the sun or moon when partly obscured by thin

white clouds, are owing to the refraction of the light in the aqueous

particles of the cloud or fog. The colours in the concentric bands of

the coronæ, however, differ from the foregoing; that nearest the sun is

of deep blue, white, and red; the circle exterior to that consists of

purple, blue, green, pale yellow, and red; but the series is very rarely

complete.

Halos, which surround the sun in large circles, or a complicated

combination of circles, are, on the contrary, supposed to be produced by

the light falling on minute crystals of ice suspended in the atmosphere;

they are particularly brilliant and frequent in high latitudes. It is

scarcely possible to give an idea of these beautiful and singular

objects. Sometimes a large coloured circle surrounds the sun or passes

through his centre, which is occasionally touched or cut by segments of

others. One seen at St. Petersburg on the 29th of June, 1790, consisted

of four coloured circles of different sizes intersecting each other,

which were either cut or touched by segments of eight others, and at the

points of intersection mock suns or parhelia appeared. The sky is very

hazy on these occasions. Mock suns, without circles and halos, are by no

means uncommon round both sun and moon, but seldom of that complicated

kind. They are situate between the observer and the sun, whereas the

rainbow is always in that part of the sky opposite the sun, because it

is produced by refraction and reflection of the sun’s rays in the drops

of rain; and when the light is intense and the rain abundant, there are

two concentric bows, the prismatic colour of the innermost of which are

the most vivid, the violet being within and the red outside: sometimes

the inner edge exhibits a repetition of colours in fine fringes, in

which red and green predominate. The colours are reversed in the

exterior bow, the violet being outside and the red on the inner edge.

Besides these two principal and most common bows, supernumerary rainbows

occasionally appear within the interior bow, generally green and violet,

though there are sometimes more or less perfect repetitions of all the

colours. In squally weather a rainbow is sometimes seen on a blue sky

when rain is falling, but it is generally on clouds; it is constantly

seen when the sun shines on the fine drops of fountains and cascades. As

the light of the moon is feeble, lunar rainbows are rare, and, for the

most part, colourless. In the early morning, when the sun throws his

slanting beams across the fields, a miniature bow, with all its vivid

colours, may be seen in each dewdrop as it hangs on the points of the

bending grass.

Light is said to be polarized when, after having been once refracted or

reflected, it is rendered incapable of being again refracted or

reflected at certain angles. For example, if a crystal of brown

tourmaline be cut longitudinally into thin slices, and polished, the

light of a candle may be seen through a slice as if it were glass. But

if one of these slices be held perpendicularly between the eye and the

candle, and a second slice be turned round between the eye and the other

plate of tourmaline, the image of the candle will vanish and come into

view at every quarter-revolution of the plate, varying through all

degrees of brightness down to total or almost total evanescence, and

then increasing again by the same degrees as it had decreased. Thus, the

light, in passing through the first plate of tourmaline, is said to be

polarized because it has been rendered incapable of passing through the

second piece of tourmaline in certain positions.

A ray of light acquires the same property if it be reflected from a pane

of plate-glass at an angle of 57 degrees; it is by that rendered

incapable of being reflected by another pane of plate-glass in certain

definite positions, for the image of the light vanishes and reappears

alternately at every quarter-revolution of the second pane.

If a thin plate of mica be interposed when the image of the candle has

vanished, the darkness will instantly disappear, and a succession of the

most gorgeous colours will come into view, varying with every

inclination of the mica, from the richest reds to the most vivid greens,

blues, and purples. The most splendid colours arranged in symmetrical

forms are exhibited by thin plates of an infinite variety of substances

besides mica. They display some of the most beautiful objects in nature,

and show differences otherwise inappreciable in the arrangement of the

molecules of crystalline bodies.[144]

M. Arago discovered that the light of the sun is polarized by the

reflection of the atmosphere, but not equally so on every part of the

sky; the polarization is least in the vicinity of the sun, and greatest

at 90° from him, for there his light is reflected at an angle of 45°,

which is the polarizing angle for air.[145] There are three points in

the sky where the light is not polarized: one of these neutral points,

discovered by M. Arago, is 18° 30ʹ above the point diametrically

opposite to the sun when he is in the horizon; the second neutral point,

discovered by M. Babinet, is 18° 30ʹ above the sun when he is rising or

setting; and the third, discovered by Sir David Brewster, is 15° or 16°

below the sun. These points vary with the height of the sun, and the two

latter rise and coincide in his centre when he is in the zenith.[146]

Now, the portion of polarized light sent to the eye from any part of a

clear sky is in a plane passing through that point, the eye of the

observer, and the centre of the sun. If that point be the north pole of

the heavens, it is clear that, as the sun moves in his diurnal course,

the plane will move with him as an hour circle, and may be used as a

dial to determine the hour of the day. Professor Wheatstone, by whom

that beautiful application of the polarization of the atmosphere has

been made, has constructed a clock, of very simple form, which shows the

time of day with great accuracy, and which has many advantages over a

sun-dial.

ELECTRICITY.

Electricity pervades the earth, the air, and all substances, without

giving any visible sign of its existence when in a latent state, but,

when elicited, it exhibits forces capable of producing the most sudden,

violent, and irresistible effects. It is roused from its dormant state

by every disturbance in the chemical, mechanical, or calorific condition

of matter, and then experience shows that bodies in one electric state

repel, and in another they attract each other. Probably their mutual

attraction and repulsion arise from the redundancy and defect of

electricity; in the first case they are said to be positively, in the

latter negatively electric.[147] When they have different kinds of

electricity they attract each other, and, when not opposed, the

electricity coalesces with great rapidity, producing the flash,

explosion, and shock, and that with the more violence the greater the

tension or pressure of the electricity on the surrounding air which

resists its escape. Equilibrium is then restored, and the electricity

remains latent till called forth by a new exciting cause. The electrical

state of substances is easily disturbed, for, without contact, positive

electricity tends to produce negative electricity in a body near it, and

_vice versâ_: the latter is then said to be electric by induction.

The electricity of the atmosphere arises from evaporation, and the

chemical changes that are in perpetual progress on the globe; no

electricity, however, is developed by the evaporation of pure water, but

it arises abundantly from water containing matter susceptible of

chemical action during the evaporation; consequently, the ocean is one

of the greatest sources of atmospheric electricity; combustion is

another, and a large portion arises from vegetation. The air, when pure,

is almost always positively electric; but as the chemical changes on the

earth sometimes produce positive and sometimes negative electricity, it

is subject to great local variations; a passing cloud or a puff of wind

produces a change, and a distant storm renders it negative for the time,

but the earth is always in a negative state. The quantity of electricity

varies with the hours of the day and the seasons; it is more powerful in

the day than in the night, in winter than in summer, and it diminishes

from the equator to the poles. It thunders daily in many places, in

others never, as on the east coast of Peru and in the Arctic regions,

except where there are violent volcanic explosions, which always

generate electricity, as in Iceland. Wherever there are no trees or high

objects to conduct it to the ground, the quantity of positive

electricity increases with the height above the surface of the earth.

Violent thunder-storms take place on the tops of the Andes and Himalaya

mountains, at heights of 26,650 feet above the plains.

Electricity becomes very strong when dew is deposited, and in some cases

it is strongly developed in fogs. Mr. Cross found it so powerful on one

occasion, that it was dangerous to approach the apparatus for measuring

its intensity. A continued succession of explosions lasted nearly five

hours, and the stream of fire between the receiving-ball and the

atmospheric conductor was too vivid to look at. M. Peltier has found

that the common fogs arising from the mere condensation of the moisture

in the air are neutral, but that others, which are produced by

exhalations from the earth, are sometimes positive, sometimes negative;

the subject, however, requires further investigation.

Though in long-continued mild rains there are no traces of electricity,

yet, when rain or snow falls from the higher regions of the atmosphere,

it is more or less developed, sometimes positive, sometimes negative,

depending a good deal on the direction of the wind. The atmosphere being

positively electric, negative rain is supposed to arise from the

evaporation of the drops in passing through dry air; the vapour carries

off the positive electricity and leaves the drop in a negative state—a

circumstance which seems to be confirmed by the electricity of cascades,

near which there always is more or less negative electricity; the

positive flows into the earth, while the other remains united to the

drops of the cascade.

The inductive action of the earth upon the clouds, and of the different

strata of clouds on each other, produces great variations in their

electrical state. If rain falls from the lowermost of two strata of

positively electrical clouds, the inductive action of the earth renders

the under surface positive and the upper negative, and the rain is

positive. By-and-bye the under surface of the cloud and the earth become

neutral; and after a time the lower cloud becomes charged with negative

electricity by the induction of the upper strata, and the rain is then

negatively electric. Clouds are very differently charged; grey clouds

have negative—red, white, and orange clouds positive electricity; and

when clouds differently charged meet, an explosion takes place. When the

sky is clear and the air calm and warm, a succession of small white

fleecy clouds rising rapidly above the horizon, and flying swiftly in

the very high regions of the atmosphere, is a certain presage of a

thunder-storm.

Electricity of each kind is probably elicited by the friction of

currents of air, or masses of clouds moving rapidly in different

directions, as in thunder-storms, when small white clouds are seen

flying rapidly over the black mass; yet the quick and irregular motion

of clouds in storms is probably owing to the strong electrical

attraction and repulsion among themselves, though both may be concerned

in these hostile encounters. When two clouds differently charged by the

sudden condensation of vapour, and driven by contending winds, approach

within a certain distance, the thickness of the coating of electricity

increases on the two adjacent sides, and, when the accumulation becomes

so great as to overcome the coercive pressure of the atmosphere between

them, a discharge takes place which occasions a flash of lightning. The

actual quantity of electricity in any part of a cloud is very small. The

intensity of the flash depends upon the extent of surface occupied by

the electricity, which acquires its intensity by its instantaneous

condensation.

The air, being a non-conductor, does not convey the electricity from the

clouds to the earth, but it acquires from them an opposite electricity,

and when the tension is very great the force of the electricity becomes

irresistible, and an interchange takes place between the clouds and the

earth, but the motion of the lightning is so rapid that it is difficult

to ascertain when it goes from the clouds to the earth, or from the

earth to the clouds, though there is no doubt it does both: explosions

have burst from the ground, and people have been killed by them.

When the air is highly rarified by heat, its coercive power is

diminished, so that the electricity escapes from the clouds in the form

of diffuse lambent sheets of lightning without thunder or rain,

frequently seen in warm summer evenings, sometimes even near the zenith,

and quite different from that sheet-lightning at the horizon which is in

general only the reflection of the forked lightning of a distant storm.

When the quantity of electricity developed by the sudden condensation of

vapour is very great, the lightning is always forked; its zigzag form is

occasioned by the unequal conducting power of the air, by which it is

sometimes divided into several branches. The author once saw a flash

divide into four parallel streams—a very uncommon occurrence.

Occasionally, in very great storms, the lightning sends off lateral

branches. It often appears as a globe of fire moving so slowly that it

is visible for several seconds, while the flashes of forked lightning do

not last the millionth part of a second. Professor Wheatstone, who has

measured the velocity of lightning by experiments of great ingenuity,

found that it far surpasses the velocity of light, and would encircle

the globe in the twinkling of an eye. This inconceivable velocity is

beautifully exemplified in the electric telegraph, by which the most

violent and terrific agent in nature is rendered obedient to man, and

conveys his thoughts as rapidly as they are formed. The colour of

lightning is generally a dazzling white or blue, though in highly

rarified air it is rose-colour or violet.

The sudden compression of the air during the passage of lightning must

convert a great quantity of latent into sensible heat, for heat in a

latent or insensible state exists in all bodies independent of their

temperature. Heat is absorbed and becomes insensible to the thermometer

when solids become liquids, and when liquids are changed to vapour; and

it again becomes sensible when vapour is condensed, and when liquids

become solid. When water freezes, all the heat that kept it liquid is

given out; and when ice melts, it absorbs heat from everything near it.

The air is full of heat in a latent state, whatever its temperature may

be, but it can be squeezed out by sudden compression so as to kindle

tinder. Every aërial wave, every sound, every word spoken must set free

an infinitesimal quantity of heat; so everything that tends to rarify

the air must cause it to absorb a proportional quantity.

The rolling noise of thunder is probably owing to the difference between

the velocity of lightning and that of sound. Thunder may be regarded as

originating in every point of a flash of lightning at the same instant;

and as sound takes a considerable time to travel, it will arrive first

from the nearest point; and if the flash run in a direct line from a

person, the noise will come later and later from the remote points of

its path, in a continued roar. Should the direction of the flash be

inclined, the succession of sounds will be more rapid and intense; and

if the lightning describe a circular course above a person, the sound

will arrive at the same instant from every point with a stunning

crash.[148]

In passing to the earth, lightning follows the best conductors—metals by

preference, then damp substances—which is the reason why men and animals

are so often struck. If it meets with a bad conductor, it shivers it to

pieces and scatters the fragments to a considerable distance. A powerful

flash scatters gunpowder, while a feeble one ignites it; the hardest

trees are split and torn to shreds; when a tree is struck, the heat of

the flash converts the sap into steam, the expansive force of which

shivers the tree. The surface of rocks is vitrified by it; and when it

falls on a sandy soil, its course underground is marked by vitrified

tubes many feet long.

Thunder-storms occur daily within the region of the Variables, which is

also the region of storms: in countries under the influence of the

monsoons they are tremendous at the changes of these periodical winds;

where the trade-winds prevail they are hardly known, though electrical

discharges are frequent at their limits. In Greece and Italy there are

about 40 thunder-storms annually, which occur in spring and autumn,

while north of the Alps they chiefly take place in summer. There are

about 24 in the year on the coasts of the Atlantic and in Germany, but

they are much more frequent among mountains than on plains. In the

interior of the old continent they rarely occur in winter, and

three-fourths of the number happen in summer. They are of such rare

occurrence in high latitudes, that in a residence of 6 years in

Greenland Sir Charles Geiseke only heard it thunder once.

Some storms arise from the contention of opposite currents in the air;

others are occasioned by currents of warm air ascending from the earth,

which are suddenly condensed as they enter the upper regions of the

atmosphere, and, as this sometimes happens at the hottest hour of the

day, these storms are periodical for many successive days, recurring

always at the same hour. Sometimes they extend over a great expanse of

country, and the lightning darts from all points of the compass. A

person may be killed at the distance of 20 miles from the explosion by

the _back stroke_. If the two extremities of a highly-charged cloud dip

towards the earth, they will repel the electricity of the earth, if it

be of the same kind with their own, and will attract the other kind; and

if a discharge should take place at one end of the cloud, the

equilibrium will instantly be restored by a flash from that part of the

earth which is under the other, sufficiently strong to destroy life, and

it is the most dangerous, though never so strong as the direct stroke.

When thunder-clouds are very low, there is frequently no lightning; the

electricity produced by induction is so powerful that it escapes from

pointed objects in the shape of flame without heat, known as St. Elmo’s

fire. These flames are not unfrequently seen at the topmasts of ships

and the extremities of their yard-arms. Bodies between the clouds and

earth may be electrized by induction, and their electricity will be seen

in the form of flame, as showers of phosphorescent snow.

Phosphorescence is ascribed to electricity; various substances emit

light when decaying, as fish and wood. Although many marine animals are

phosphorescent, yet the luminous appearance which the sea often assumes

is not always to be attributed to them, but probably to the decaying

animal matter it contains.

The aurora is decidedly an electrical phenomenon. It generally appears

soon after sunset in the form of a luminous arch stretching more or less

from east to west, the most elevated point being always in the magnetic

meridian of the place of the observer: across the arch the coruscations

are rapid, vivid, and of various colours, darting like lightning to the

zenith, and at the same time flitting laterally with incessant velocity.

The brightness of the rays varies in an instant: they sometimes surpass

the splendour of stars of the first magnitude, and often exhibit colours

of admirable transparency, blood-red at the base, emerald-green in the

middle, and clear yellow towards their extremity. Sometimes one, and

sometimes a quick succession of luminous currents run from one end of

the arch or bow to the other, so that the rays rapidly increase in

brightness; but it is impossible to say whether the coruscations

themselves are actually affected by a horizontal motion of translation,

or whether the more vivid light is conveyed from ray to ray. The rays

occasionally dart far past the zenith, vanish, suddenly reappear, and,

being joined by others from the arch, form a magnificent corona or

immense dome of light. The segment of the sky below the arch is quite

black, as if formed by dense clouds; yet M. Struve is said to have seen

stars in it, consequently the blackness must be from contrast. The lower

edge of the arch is evenly defined; its upper margin is fringed by the

coruscations, their convergence towards the north, and that of the arch

itself, being probably an effect of perspective.

Either the aurora must be high above the earth, or its coruscations must

be very extensive, since the same display is visible at places wide

asunder. It has frequently been seen in North America and all over the

north of Europe at the same time, sometimes even as far south as Italy,

yet Sir Edward Parry certainly saw a ray dart from it to the ground near

him. M. Struve, Admiral Wrangel, and others who have had many

opportunities of seeing the aurora in high latitudes, assign a very

moderate elevation to it. The arch probably passes through the magnetic

pole; hence, in the north of Greenland it lies south of the observer,

and Sir Edward Parry saw it to the south in Melville Island, which is in

70° N. lat.; consequently it must appear in the zenith in some places.

Dr. Faraday conjectures that the electric equilibrium of the earth is

restored by the aurora conveying the electricity from the poles to the

equator, for it appears in the high southern latitudes, as well as in

the northern; and the Rev. G. Fisher has lately suggested, that, as the

principal display of the aurora takes place at or near the margin of the

polar ice, the electricity may be conveyed by the conducting power of

the frozen particles which abound in the air in these latitudes, and

which, being rendered fitfully luminous by the passage of the

electricity, produce the arch and the ever-varying flashes of the

aurora.

The aurora has a powerful influence on the magnetic needle, even in

places where the display is not seen. Its vibrations seem to be slower

or quicker according as the auroral light is quiescent or in motion, and

the disturbances of the magnetic needle and the auroral displays were

simultaneous at Toronto, in Canada, on 13 days out of 24, the remaining

days having been clouded; and contemporaneous observations show that on

these 13 days there were also magnetic disturbances at Prague and at Van

Diemen’s Land, so that the “occurrence of aurora at Toronto on these

occasions may be viewed as a local manifestation connected with magnetic

effects, which, whatever may have been their origin, probably prevailed

on the same day over the whole surface of the globe.”[149]

MAGNETISM.

Magnetism is one of those unseen imponderable existences which, like

electricity and heat, are known only by their effects. It is certainly

identical with electricity, for, although it never comes naturally into

evidence, magnets can be made to exhibit all the phenomena of electrical

machines.

Terrestrial magnetism, which pervades the whole earth, is extremely

complicated; it varies both with regard to space and time, and,

probably, depends upon the heat of the sun, upon his motion in the

ecliptic, which produces changes of temperature, on galvanic currents

circulating through the surface of the globe, and possibly on the

earth’s rotatory motion.

The distribution of terrestrial magnetism is determined by the

declination-needle, or mariner’s compass, and the dipping-needle; they

consist of magnetized needles or bars of steel, so suspended that the

declination-needle revolves in a horizontal direction, and the

dipping-needle moves in a plane perpendicular to the horizon. The north

end of the declination-needle or magnet points to the north, and the

south end to the south, and it only remains at rest when in that

position. The direction of the needle is the magnetic meridian of the

place of observation.

The north end of the dipping-needle bends or dips below the horizon in

the northern hemisphere, and the south end bends or dips beneath it in

the southern hemisphere, and between the two there is a line which

encircles the whole earth, where the dipping-needle remains horizontal.

That line, which is the magnetic equator or line of no dip, crosses the

terrestrial equator in several places, extending alternately on each

side, but never deviating more than 12 degrees from it. The deviation is

greater in that part of the Pacific where there are most islands, and it

is greatest both to the south and north in traversing the continents of

Africa and America; thus, it appears that the configuration of the land

and water has an influence on terrestrial magnetism. North and south of

the magnetic equator the needle dips more and more, till at last it

becomes perpendicular to the horizon in two points, or rather linear

spaces, known as the north and south magnetic poles, which are quite

distinct from the poles of the earth’s rotation. One, whose position was

determined by Captain Ross, is in 70° N. lat. and 97° W. long., while

that in the southern hemisphere, determined by Sir James Ross, in the

interior of Victoria Island, is in 70° S. lat. and 162° E. long. Lines

of equal dip are such as may be drawn on a globe through all those

places where the dipping-needle makes the same angle with the horizon.

The angle of the dip is not always the same: according to Colonel

Sabine, who is the highest authority on this subject, it has been

decreasing in the northern hemisphere, for the last fifty years, at the

rate of three minutes annually: it is also subject to variations of

short periods, and it seems to be affected by shocks of earthquakes,

even when very distant.

The intensity of the magnetic force is as variable and even more

complicated than the other magnetic phenomena: it is measured by the

number of vibrations made by the declination-needle in a given time. It

is very different in different parts of the earth, but there are four

points in which the intensity is greater than anywhere else. Two of

these are in the northern and two in the southern hemisphere; they

neither coincide with the poles of the earth’s rotation nor with the

magnetic poles, nor are they all of equal intensity.

One of these foci of maximum magnetic intensity is situate in North

America, south-west from Hudson’s Bay; another is in northern Siberia in

120° E. long. In the southern hemisphere, one of the points of maximum

magnetic intensity is in the South Atlantic in 20° S. lat. and 324° E.

long., and the other is situate in 60° S. lat. and 131° 20ʹ E.

long.[150] In consequence of the unequal intensity of the force in these

4 foci, the decrease in magnetic power from them towards the equator is

extremely irregular, so that the dynamic equator, which is a line

supposed to be drawn through all the points on the earth where the

intensity is the least, encircles the globe in a waving line, which

neither coincides with the geographical nor magnetic equator; it forms

the division between the magnetic intensities in the two hemispheres.

Lines drawn on a globe through all the points where the magnetic

intensity is the same are so complicated that it is scarcely possible to

convey an idea of them in words. They form a series of ovals round each

of the foci of maximum force, then a figure of 8 in each hemisphere

having a focus and its ovals in each loop, then they open into tortuous

lines which encompass the globe, but which become less so as they

approach the dynamic equator. The complication is increased by the foci

in the two hemispheres being unsymmetrically placed with regard to one

another, as well as by the difference in their intensities.

The declination or horizontal needle only remains at rest when in a

magnetic meridian, that is, when it points to the north and south

magnetic poles. The magnetic meridians coincide with the geographical

meridians in some places, and in these the magnet points to the true

north and south, that is, to the poles of the earth’s rotation. But if

it be carried successively to different longitudes, it will deviate

sometimes to the east, sometimes to the west of the true north.

Imaginary lines on the globe, passing through all places where the

magnet points to the poles of the earth’s rotation, are lines of no

variation; and lines passing through all places where the magnet

deviates by an equal quantity from the geographical meridians are lines

of equal variation; they are also very irregular, and form two closed

systems or loops,—that is, they surround two points, one in northern

Siberia and another in the Pacific, nearly in the meridian of the

Pitcairn Islands and the Marquesas.[151]

The whole magnetic system is perpetually undergoing secular and

periodical changes, which are so irregular and complicated that half a

century is sufficient to alter the form and position of all the lines

that have been mentioned. The foci of magnetic intensity, and the whole

system represented by the magnetic lines, are moving along the two

hemispheres in opposite directions; those in the northern hemisphere are

going from west to east, and those in the southern from east to west;

and as the foci of maximum intensity move with different velocities, the

forms, as well as the places, of the curves are slowly, yet continually,

changing. The weaker magnetic focus in the northern hemisphere moved

through 50 degrees of longitude in 250 years.

The declination is subject to periodic variations depending upon the

position of the moon, and to annual variations arising from the motion

of the sun in the ecliptic, as well as to horary variations

corresponding to changes of temperature from the diurnal rotation of the

earth.

Throughout the middle latitudes of the northern hemisphere the north end

of the magnet has a mean motion from east to west from eight in the

morning till half-past one, it then moves to the east till evening,

after which it makes another excursion to the west, and returns again to

its original position at eight in the morning. The extent of its

variation is greater in the day than in the night, in summer than in

winter. It decreases from the middle latitudes in Europe, where it is 13

or 14 minutes, to the equator, where it is only 3 or 4; but at the

equator the variations are performed with extreme regularity. The horary

motions of the south end of the magnet in the southern hemisphere are

accomplished in an exactly opposite direction. Between these two

magnetic hemispheres there is a line passing through an infinity of

places, and very nearly coinciding with the line of minimum magnetic

intensity, where the horary phenomena of both hemispheres are combined,

each predominating alternately at opposite seasons. At St. Helena, which

is one of the places in question, and nearly on the line of minimum

intensity, the horary motion of the north end of the magnet corresponds

in direction during one half of the year with the movement in the

northern hemisphere, and in the other half of the year the direction at

the same hours corresponds with that in the southern hemisphere, the

passage from the one to the other being at the equinoxes, when the

diurnal variations at the usual hours partake more or less of the

characteristics of both on different days.[152]

It thus appears that there are six points on the earth peculiarly

remarkable for magnetic phenomena, all of which are distinct from one

another, and from the poles of the earth’s rotation—namely, two magnetic

poles where the dipping-needle makes an angle of 90 degrees with the

horizon. The magnetic equator corresponds with these in every point of

which the angle of the dip is zero: it encircles the earth, and

intersects the terrestrial equator, but does not coincide with it. The

other four points are the foci of maximum magnetic intensity, and to

them the dynamical equator or line of minimum magnetic intensity

corresponds, also surrounding the earth in an irregular line, but which

coincides with neither the terrestrial nor magnetic equator. Besides

these, and either partly or nearly coinciding with the line of minimum

intensity, is that line which is supposed to pass through all places

where the horary variations of the magnet partake of the phenomena of

each hemisphere alternately.

The earth’s magnetism is subject to vast unaccountable commotions or

storms of immense extent, which occur at irregular intervals, and are of

short duration. In 1818, a magnetic storm, shown by a violent agitation

of the needle, took place at the same time over 47 degrees of longitude,

extending through all the countries from Paris to Kasan; and on the 25th

of September, 1841, one of these storms was simultaneously observed at

Toronto in North America, at the Cape of Good Hope, Prague in Europe, at

Macao in China, and there is reason to believe that it extended to Van

Diemen’s Land. Similar storms have happened simultaneously in Sicily and

at Upsala in Sweden; others of less extent and shorter periods more

frequently occur, and are, like the greater storms, not to be attributed

to any known cause.

M. Necker de Saussure has traced a marked coincidence between the

prevailing direction of the stratified masses of the mountain chains and

that of the curves of equal magnetic intensity. The coincidence is

perfect in the Ural chain, for there the lines of force tend north and

south; and they do not deviate much from the stratification in the great

plains of European Russia. There is every reason to believe that a

coincidence takes place in the Scandinavian mountains, for a line of

equal magnetic intensity passes parallel to the Norwegian coast. In

Scotland, a line almost coincides with the Grampians; and as it becomes

less northerly before reaching Portugal and Spain, it is there also in

singular coincidence with the sierras on the table-land; the Pyrenees,

however, form an exception to the law. A magnetic line follows the break

of the chain of the Alps with great precision. The intersection of two

upheavals makes these mountains alter their direction from S.W. and N.E.

to E. nearly, and near to that change the magnetic line takes a similar

bend, and coincides with the Caucasus, Taurus, Hindoo-Coosh, Himalaya,

and Chinese mountains, after which it again tends to the north, and

follows the Yablonia chain to Behring’s Straits.

In Africa, the lines of equal magnetic force coincide with the Komri,

and with the lofty sea-coast range which unites the mountains of

Abyssinia with those at the Cape of Good Hope. Throughout North America

the lines of equal force coincide with the Alleghanies, and on the coast

of the Pacific they take the direction of the Rocky Mountains. In

Mexico, the stratified rocks are parallel to the mountains of Anahuac,

which is the same with the direction of the magnetic curves, and a

similar coincidence takes place in the Parima ranges, and in the

coast-chain of Venezuela. The Andes, and the lines of equal magnetic

intensity, are completely discordant, for they cross one another; but

lines of equal magnetic force stretch from the southern promontories of

America and Asia to the mountains of Victoria Land.

There is strong presumptive evidence of the influence of the electric

and magnetic currents on the formation and direction of the mountain

masses and mineral veins, but their slow persevering action on the

ultimate atoms of matter has been placed beyond doubt by the formation

of rubies and other gems, as well as various other mineral substances,

by voltaic electricity.

The existence of electric currents on the surface of the earth has been

deduced from terrestrial magnetism, and from the connection between the

diurnal variations of the magnet and the apparent motion of the sun;

also from the electro-magnetic properties of metalliferous veins, and

from atmospheric electricity, which is continually passing between the

air and the earth.

Dr. Faraday’s brilliant discoveries have changed the received opinions

with regard to the magnetic properties of matter. Although all bodies

are magnetic, they show that it assumes a totally different form in

different substances. For example, if a bar of iron be freely suspended

between the poles of an electro-magnet, or very powerful horse-shoe

magnet, it will be attracted by both poles, and will rest in the

direction between them—that is, on the line of force. But if a bar of

bismuth be suspended in the same manner, it will be repelled by both

poles, and will assume a direction at right angles to that which the

iron took, and thus the same force, whether electric or magnetic,

produces opposite effects upon these two metals. Substances affected

after the manner of iron are magnetic—those affected after the manner of

bismuth are said to be _diamagnetic_. All substances come under one or

other of these two classes: the diamagnetic are infinitely more abundant

than the magnetic; almost all bodies on earth belong to that class. Many

of the metals, acids, oils, sugar, starch, animal matter, flame, and all

the gases, whether light or heavy, have the diamagnetic property less or

more, but oxygen less than any other, and that is the reason why

atmospheric air is the most feebly diamagnetic of all substances at its

natural temperature; for when very hot it becomes more diamagnetic, and

if extremely cold it takes a place among the magnetic class. Important

results with regard to the magnetic state of the globe will undoubtedly

be deduced from this new property of matter, and Dr. Faraday’s

observations on that subject show that he is not without such

anticipations.

“When we consider the magnetic condition of the earth as a whole,

without reference to its possible relation to the sun, and reflect upon

the enormous amount of diamagnetic matter which forms its crust; and

when we remember that magnetic curves of a certain amount of force,

universal in their presence, are passing through these matters, and

keeping them constantly in a state of tension, and therefore of action,

we cannot doubt that some great purpose, of utility to the system and to

us its inhabitants, is fulfilled by it. If the sun have anything to do

with the magnetism of the globe, then it is possible that part of this

effect may be due to the action of the light that comes to us from that

body; and in that view the air seems most strikingly placed round our

sphere, investing it with a transparent diamagnetic, which, therefore,

is permeable to his rays, and, at the same time, moving with great

velocity across them. Such conditions seem to suggest the possibility of

magnetism being thence generated.”

Physical Geography · 第 22 / 36 章