Of the inner quality that enables matter to attract matter we know

nothing; and the law of conservation makes no statement regarding that

quality. It takes the facts of attraction as they stand, and affirms

only the constancy of working-power. That power may exist in the form

of MOTION; or it may exist in the form of FORCE, _with distance to act

through_. The former is dynamic energy, the latter is potential

energy, the constancy of the sum of both being affirmed by the law of

conservation. The convertibility of natural forces consists solely in

transformations of dynamic into potential, and of potential into

dynamic energy. In no other sense has the convertibility of force any

scientific meaning.

Grave errors have been entertained as to what is really intended to be

conserved by the doctrine of conservation. This exposition I hope

will tend to remove them.

********************

II. RADIATION.

[Footnote: The Rede Lecture delivered in the Senate House before the

University of Cambridge, May 16, 1865.]

*****

1. Visible and Invisible Radiation.

BETWEEN the mind of man and the outer world are interposed the nerves

of the human body, which translate, or enable the mind to translate,

the impressions of that world into facts of consciousness and thought.

Different nerves are suited to the perception of different

impressions. We do not see with the ear, nor hear with the eye, nor

are we rendered sensible of sound by the nerves of the tongue. Out of

the general assemblage of physical actions, each nerve, or group of

nerves, selects and responds to those for the perception of which it

is specially organised.

The optic nerve passes from the brain to the back of the eyeball and

there spreads out, to form the retina, a web of nerve filaments, on

which the images of external objects are projected by the optical

portion of the eye. This nerve is limited to the apprehension of the

phenomena of radiation, and, notwithstanding its marvellous

sensibility to certain impressions of this class, it is singularly

obtuse to other impressions.

Nor does the optic nerve embrace the entire range even of radiation.

Some rays, when they reach it, are incompetent to evoke its power,

while others never reach it at all, being absorbed by the humours of

the eye. To all rays which, whether they reach the retina or not,

fail to excite vision, we give the name of invisible or obscure rays.

All non-luminous bodies emit such rays. There is no body in nature

absolutely cold, and every body not absolutely cold emits rays of

heat. But to render radiant heat fit to affect the optic nerve a

certain temperature is necessary. A cool poker thrust into a fire

remains dark for a time, but when its temperature has become equal to

that of the surrounding coals, it glows like them. In like manner, if

a current of electricity, of gradually increasing strength, be sent

through a wire of the refractory metal platinum, the wire first

becomes sensibly warm to the touch; for a time its heat augments,

still however remaining obscure; at length we can no longer touch the

metal with impunity; and at a certain definite temperature it emits a

feeble red light. As the current augments in power the light augments

in brilliancy, until finally the wire appears of a dazzling white. The

light which it now emits is similar to that of the sun.

By means of a prism Sir Isaac Newton unravelled the texture of solar

light, and by the same simple instrument we can investigate the

luminous changes of our platinum wire. In passing through the prism

all its rays (and they are infinite in variety) are bent or refracted

from their straight course; and, as different rays are differently

refracted by the prism, we are by it enabled to separate one class of

rays from another. By such prismatic analysis Dr. Draper has shown,

that when the platinum wire first begins to glow, the light emitted is

sensibly red. As the glow augments the red becomes more brilliant,

but at the same time orange rays are added to the emission. Augmenting

the temperature still further, yellow rays appear beside the orange;

after the yellow, green rays are emitted; and after the green come, in

succession, blue, indigo, and violet rays. To display all these

colours at the same time the platinum wire must be _white-hot_: the

impression of whiteness being in fact produced by the simultaneous

action of all these colours on the optic nerve.

In the experiment just described we began with a platinum wire at an

ordinary temperature, and gradually raised it to a white heat. At the

beginning, and even before the electric current had acted at all upon

the wire, it emitted invisible rays. For some time after the action

of the current had commenced, and even for a time after the wire had

become intolerable to the touch, its radiation was still invisible.

The question now arises, What becomes of these invisible rays when the

visible ones make their appearance? It will be proved in the sequel

that they maintain themselves in the radiation; that a ray once

emitted continues to be emitted when the temperature is increased, and

hence the emission from our platinum wire, even when it has attained

its maximum brilliancy, consists of a mixture of visible and invisible

rays. If, instead of the platinum wire, the earth itself were raised

to incandescence, the obscure radiation which it now emits would

continue to be emitted. To reach incandescence the planet would have

to pass through all the stages of non-luminous radiation, and the

final emission would embrace the rays of all these stages. There can

hardly be a doubt that from the sun itself, rays proceed similar in

kind to those which the dark earth pours nightly into space. In fact,

the various kind of obscure rays emitted by all the planets of our

system are included in the present radiation of the sun.

The great pioneer in this domain of science was Sir William Herschel.

Causing a beam of solar light to pass through a prism, he resolved it

into its coloured constituents; he formed what is technically called

the solar spectrum. Exposing thermometers to the successive colours

he determined their heating power, and found it to augment from the

violet or most refracted end, to the red or least refracted end of the

spectrum. But he did not stop here. Pushing his thermometers into

the dark space beyond the red he found that, though the light had

disappeared, the radiant heat falling on the instruments was more

intense than that at any visible part of the spectrum. In fact, Sir

William Herschel showed, and his results have been verified by various

philosophers since his time, that, besides its luminous rays, the sun

pours forth a multitude of other rays, more powerfully calorific than

the luminous ones, but entirely unsuited to the purposes of vision.

At the less refrangible end of the solar spectrum, then, the range of

the sun's radiation is not limited by that of the eye. The same

statement applies to the more refrangible end. Ritter discovered the

extension of the spectrum into the invisible region beyond the violet;

and, in recent times, this ultra-violet emission has had peculiar

interest conferred upon it by the admirable researches of Professor

Stokes. The complete spectrum of the sun consists, therefore, of

three distinct parts: first, of ultra-red rays of high heating power,

but unsuited to the purposes of vision; secondly, of luminous rays

which display the succession of colours, red, orange, yellow, green,

blue, indigo, violet; thirdly, of ultra-violet rays which, like the

ultra-red ones, are incompetent to excite vision, but which, unlike

the ultra-red rays, possess a very feeble heating power. In

consequence, however, of their chemical energy these ultra-violet rays

are of the utmost importance to the organic world.

********************

2. Origin and Character of Radiation. The Aether.

When we see a platinum wire raised gradually to a white heat, and

emitting in succession all the colours of the spectrum, we are simply

conscious of a series of changes in the condition of our own eyes. We

do not see the actions in which these successive colours originate,

but the mind irresistibly infers that the appearance of the colours

corresponds to certain contemporaneous changes in the wire. What is

the nature of these changes? In virtue of what condition does the

wire radiate at all? We must now look from the wire, as a whole, to

its constituent atoms. Could we see those atoms, even before the

electric current has begun to act upon them, we should find them in a

state of vibration. In this vibration, indeed, consists such warmth

as the wire then possesses. Locke enunciated this idea with great

precision, and it has been placed beyond the pale of doubt by the

excellent quantitative researches of Mr. Joule. 'Heat,' says Locke,

'is a very brisk agitation of the insensible parts of the object,

which produce in us that sensation from which we denominate the object

hot: so what in our sensations is _heat_ in the object is nothing but

_motion_.' When the electric current, still feeble, begins to pass

through the wire, its first act is to intensify the vibrations already

existing, by causing the atoms to swing through wider ranges.

Technically speaking, the _amplitudes_ of the oscillations are

increased. The current does this, however, without altering the

periods of the old vibrations, or the times in which they were

executed. But besides intensifying the old vibrations the current

generates new and more rapid ones, and when a certain definite

rapidity has been attained, the wire begins to glow. The colour first

exhibited is red, which corresponds to the lowest rate of vibration of

which the eye is able to take cognisance. By augmenting the strength

of the electric current more rapid vibrations are introduced, and

orange rays appear. A quicker rate of vibration produces yellow, a

still quicker green; and by further augmenting the rapidity, we pass

through blue, indigo, and violet, to the extreme ultra-violet rays.

Such are the changes recognised by the mind in the wire itself, as

concurrent with the visual changes taking place in the eye. But what

connects the wire with this organ? By what means does it send such

intelligence of its varying condition to the optic nerve? Heat being

as defined by Locke, 'a very brisk agitation of the insensible parts

of an object,' it is readily conceivable that on touching a heated

body the agitation may communicate itself to the adjacent nerves, and

announce itself to them as light or heat. But the optic nerve does

not touch the hot platinum, and hence the pertinence of the question,

By what agency are the vibrations of the wire transmitted to the eye?

The answer to this question involves one of the most important

physical conceptions that the mind of man has yet achieved: the

conception of a medium filling space and fitted mechanically for the

transmission of the vibrations of light and heat, as air is fitted for

the transmission of sound. This medium is called the _luminiferous

aether_. Every vibration of every atom of our platinum wire raises in

this aether a wave, which speeds through it at the rate of 186,000

miles a second.

The aether suffers no rupture of continuity at the surface of the eye,

the inter-molecular spaces of the various humours are filled with it;

hence the waves generated by the glowing platinum can cross these

humours and impinge on the optic nerve at the back of the eye.

[Footnote: The action here described is analogous to the passage of

sound-waves through thick felt whose interstices are occupied by air.]

Thus the sensation of light reduces itself to the acceptance of

motion. Up to this point we deal with pure mechanics; but the

subsequent translation of the shock of the aethereal waves into

consciousness eludes mechanical science. As an oar dipping into the

Cam generates systems of waves, which, speeding from the centre of

disturbance, finally stir the sedges on the river's bank, so do the

vibrating atoms generate in the surrounding aether undulations, which

finally stir the filaments of the retina. The motion thus imparted is

transmitted with measurable, and not very great velocity to the brain,

where, by a process which the science of mechanics does not even tend

to unravel, the tremor of the nervous matter is converted into the

conscious impression of light.

Darkness might then be defined as aether at rest; light as aether in

motion. But in reality the aether is never at rest, for in the

absence of light-waves we have heat-waves always speeding through it.

In the spaces of the universe both classes of undulations incessantly

commingle. Here the waves issuing from uncounted centres cross,

coincide, oppose, and pass through each other, without confusion or

ultimate extinction. Every star is seen across the entanglement of

wave-motions produced by all other stars. It is the ceaseless thrill

caused by those distant orbs collectively in the aether, that

constitutes what we call the 'temperature of space.' As the air of a

room accommodates itself to the requirements of an orchestra,

transmitting each vibration of every pipe and string, so does the

inter-stellar aether accommodate itself to the requirements of light

and heat. Its waves mingle in space without disorder, each being

endowed with an individuality as indestructible as if it alone had

disturbed the universal repose.

All vagueness with regard to the use of the terms 'radiation' and

'absorption' will now disappear. Radiation is the communication of

vibratory motion to the aether; and when a body is said to be chilled

by radiation, as for example the grass of a meadow on a starlight

night, the meaning is, that the molecules of the grass have lost a

portion of their motion, by imparting it to the medium in which they

vibrate. On the other hand, the waves of aether may so strike against

the molecules of a body exposed to their action as to yield up their

motion to the latter; and in this transfer of the motion from the

aether to the molecules consists the absorption of radiant heat. All

the phenomena of heat are in this way reducible to interchanges of

motion; and it is purely as the recipients or the donors of this

motion, that we ourselves become conscious of the action of heat and

cold.

********************

3. The Atomic Theory in reference to the Aether.

The word 'atoms' has been more than once employed in this discourse.

Chemists have taught us that all matter is reducible to certain

elementary forms to which they give this name. These atoms are

endowed with powers of mutual attraction, and under suitable

circumstances they coalesce to form compounds. Thus oxygen and

hydrogen are elements when separate, or merely _mixed_, but they may be

made to _combine_ so as to form molecules, each consisting of two atoms

of hydrogen and one of oxygen. In this condition they constitute

water. So also chlorine and sodium are elements, the former a pungent

gas, the latter a soft metal; and they unite together to form chloride

of sodium or common salt. In the same way the element nitrogen

combines with hydrogen, in the proportion of one atom of the former to

three of the latter, to form ammonia. Picturing in imagination the

atoms of elementary bodies as little spheres, the molecules of

compound bodies must be pictured as groups of such spheres. This is

the atomic theory as Dalton conceived it. Now if this theory have any

foundation in fact, and if the theory of an aether pervading space,

and constituting the vehicle of atomic motion, be founded in fact, it

is surely of interest to examine whether the vibrations of elementary

bodies are modified by the act of combination--whether as regards

radiation and absorption, or, in other words, whether as regards the

communication of motion to the aether, and the acceptance of motion

from it, the deportment of the uncombined atoms will be different from

that of the combined.

********************

4. Absorption of Radiant Heat by Gases.

We have now to submit these considerations to the only test by which

they can be tried, namely, that of experiment. An experiment is well

defined as a question put to Nature; but, to avoid the risk of asking

amiss, we ought to purify the question from all adjuncts which do not

necessarily belong to it. Matter has been shown to be composed of

elementary constituents, by the compounding of which all its varieties

are produced. But, besides the chemical unions which they form, both

elementary and compound bodies can unite in another and less intimate

way. Gases and vapours aggregate to liquids and solids, without any

change of their chemical nature. We do not yet know how the

transmission of radiant heat may be affected by the entanglement due

to cohesion; and, as our object now is to examine the influence of

chemical union alone, we shall render our experiments more pure by

liberating the atoms and molecules entirely from the bonds of

cohesion, and employing them in the gaseous or vaporous form.

Let us endeavour to obtain a perfectly clear mental image of the

problem now before us. Limiting in the first place our enquiries to

the phenomena of absorption, we have to picture a succession of waves

issuing from a radiant source and passing through a gas; some of them

striking against the gaseous molecules and yielding up their motion to

the latter; others gliding round the molecules, or passing through the

intermolecular spaces without apparent hindrance. The problem before

us is to determine whether such free molecules have any power whatever

to stop the waves of heat; and if so, whether different molecules

possess this power in different degrees.

In examining the problem let us fall back upon an actual piece of

work, choosing as the source of our heat-waves a plate of copper,

against the back of which a steady sheet of flame is permitted to

play. On emerging from the copper, the waves, in the first instance,

pass through a space devoid of air, and then enter a hollow glass

cylinder, three feet long and three inches wide. The two ends of this

cylinder are stopped by two plates of rock-salt, a solid substance

which offers a scarcely sensible obstacle to the passage of the

calorific waves. After passing through the tube, the radiant heat

falls upon the anterior face of a thermo-electric pile, [Footnote: In

the Appendix to the first chapter of 'Heat as a Mode of Motion,' the

construction of the thermo-electric pile is fully explained.] which

instantly converts the heat into an electric current. This current

conducted round a magnetic needle deflects it, and the magnitude of

the deflection is a measure of the heat falling upon the pile. This

famous instrument, and not an ordinary thermometer, is what we shall

use in these enquiries, but we shall use it in a somewhat novel way.

As long as the two opposite faces of the thermo-electric pile are kept

at the same temperature, no matter how high that may be, there is no

current generated. The current is a consequence of a difference of

temperature between the two opposite faces of the pile. Hence, if

after the anterior face has received the heat from our radiating

source, a second source, which we may call the compensating source, be

permitted to radiate against the posterior face, this latter radiation

will tend to neutralise the former. When the neutralisation is

perfect, the magnetic needle connected with the pile is no longer

deflected, but points to the zero of the graduated circle over which

it hangs.

And now let us suppose the glass tube, through which the waves from

the heated plate of copper are passing, to be exhausted by an

air-pump, the two sources of heat acting at the same time on the two

opposite faces of the pile. When by means of an adjusting screen,

perfectly equal quantities of heat are imparted to the two faces, the

needle points to zero. Let any gas be now permitted to enter the

exhausted tube; if its molecules possess any power of intercepting the

calorific waves, the equilibrium previously existing will be

destroyed, the compensating source will triumph, and a deflection of

the magnetic needle will be the immediate consequence. From the

deflections thus produced by different gases, we can readily deduce

the relative amounts of wave-motion which their molecules intercept.

In this way the substances mentioned in the following table were

examined, a small portion only of each being admitted into the glass

tube. The quantity admitted in each case was just sufficient to

depress a column of mercury associated with the tube one inch: in

other words, the gases were examined at a pressure of one-thirtieth of

an atmosphere. The numbers in the table express the relative amounts

of wave-motion absorbed by the respective gases, the quantity

intercepted by air being taken as unity.

Radiation through Gases.

Name of gas Relative absorption

Air 1

Oxygen 1

Nitrogen 1

Hydrogen 1

Carbonic oxide 750

Carbonic acid 972

Hydrochloric acid. 1,005

Nitric oxide 1,590

Nitrous oxide 1,860

Sulphide of hydrogen 2,100

Ammonia 5,460

Olefiant gas 6,030

Sulphurous acid 6,480

Every gas in this table is perfectly transparent to light, that is to

say, all waves within the limits of the visible spectrum pass through

it without obstruction; but for the waves of slower period, emanating

from our heated plate of copper, enormous differences of absorptive

power are manifested. These differences illustrate in the most

unexpected manner the influence of chemical combination. Thus the

elementary gases, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, and the mixture

atmospheric air, prove to be practical vacua to the rays of heat; for

every ray, or, more strictly speaking, for every unit of wave-motion,

which any one of them intercepts, perfectly transparent ammonia

intercepts 5,460 units, olefiant gas 6,030 units, while sulphurous

acid gas absorbs 6,480 units. What, becomes of the wave-motion thus

intercepted? It is applied to the heating of the absorbing gas.

Through air, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, the waves of aether pass

without absorption, and these gases are not sensibly changed in

temperature by the most powerful calorific rays. The position of

nitrous oxide in the foregoing table is worthy of particular notice.

In this gas we have the same atoms in a state of chemical union, that

exist uncombined in the atmosphere; but the absorption of the compound

is 1,800 times that of air.

********************

5. Formation of Invisible Foci.

This extraordinary deportment of the elementary gases naturally

directed attention to elementary bodies in other states of

aggregation. Some of Melloni's results now attained a new

significance. This celebrated experimenter had found crystals of

sulphur to be highly pervious to radiant heat; he had also proved that

lamp-black, and black glass, (which owes its blackness to the element

carbon) were to a considerable extent transparent to calorific rays of

low refrangibility. These facts, harmonising so strikingly with the

deportment of the simple gases, suggested further enquiry. Sulphur

dissolved in bisulphide of carbon was found almost perfectly

diathermic. The dense and deeply-coloured element bromine was

examined, and found competent to cut off the light of our most

brilliant flames, while it transmitted the invisible calorific rays

with extreme freedom. Iodine, the companion element of bromine, was

next thought of, but it was found impracticable to examine the

substance in its usual solid condition. It however dissolves freely

in bisulphide of carbon. There is no chemical union between the

liquid and the iodine; it is simply a case of solution, in which the

uncombined atoms of the element can act upon the radiant heat. When

permitted to do so, it was found that a layer of dissolved iodine,

sufficiently opaque to cut off the light of the midday sun, was almost

absolutely transparent to the invisible calorific rays. [Footnote:

Professor Dewar has recently succeeded in producing a medium highly

opaque to light, and highly transparent to obscure heat, by fusing

together sulphur and iodine.]

Fragments of Science: A Series of Detached Essays, Addresses, and Reviews. V. 1-2 · 第 2 / 69 段