CONCLUSION.

SOME OF THE RESULTS OF FARADAY'S DISCOVERIES, AND THE PRINCIPLE OF

ENERGY.

In early days, _the spirit of the amber_, when aroused by rubbing,

came forth and took to itself such light objects as it could easily

lift. Later on, and the spirit gave place to the _electric effluvium_,

which proceeded from the excited, or charged, body into the

surrounding space. Still later, and a fluid, or two fluids, acting

directly upon itself, or upon matter, or on one another, through

intervening space without the aid of intermediate mechanism, took the

place of the electric effluvium--a step which in itself was, perhaps,

hardly an advance. Then came the time for accurate measurement. The

simple _observation_ of phenomena and of the results of experiment

must be the first step in science, and its importance cannot be

over-estimated; but before any quantity can be said to be known, we

must have learned how to _measure_ it and to reproduce it in definite

amounts. The great law of electrical action, the same as that of

gravitation--the law of the inverse square--soon followed, as well as

the associated fact that the electrification of a conductor resides

wholly on its surface, and there only in a layer whose thickness is

too small to be discovered. The fundamental laws of electricity having

thus been established, there was no limit to the application of

mathematical methods to the problems of the science, and, in the hands

of the French mathematicians, the theory made rapid advances. George

Green, of Sneinton, Nottingham, introduced the term "potential" in an

essay published by subscription, in Nottingham, in 1828, and to him we

are indebted for some of our most powerful analytical methods of

dealing with the subject; but his work remained unappreciated and

almost unknown until many of his theorems had been rediscovered. But

the idea of a body acting where it is not, and without any conceivable

mechanism to connect it with that upon which it operates, is repulsive

to the minds of most; and, however well such a theory may lend itself

to mathematical treatment and its consequences be borne out by

experiment, we still feel that we have not solved the problem until we

have traced out the hidden mechanism. The pull of the bell-rope is

followed by the tinkling of the distant bell, but the young

philosopher is not satisfied with such knowledge, but must learn "what

is the particular go of that." This universal desire found its

exponent in Faraday, whose imagination beheld "lines" or "tubes of

force" connecting every body with every other body on which it acted.

To his mind these lines or tubes had just as real an existence as the

bell-wire, and were far better adapted to their special purposes.

Maxwell, as we have seen, not only showed that Faraday's system

admitted of the same rigorous mathematical treatment as the older

theory, and stood the test as well, but he gave reality to Faraday's

views by picturing a mechanism capable of doing all that Faraday

required of it, and of transmitting light as well. Thus the problem of

electric, magnetic, and electro-magnetic actions was reduced to that

of strains and stresses in a medium the constitution of which was

pictured to the imagination. Were this theory verified, we might say

that we know at least as much about these actions as we know about the

transmission of pressure or tension through a solid.

With regard to the _nature_ of electricity, it must be admitted that

our knowledge is chiefly negative; but, before deploring this, it is

worth while to inquire what we mean by saying that we know what a

thing is. A definition describes a thing in terms of other things

simpler, or more familiar to us, than itself. If, for instance, we say

that heat is a form of energy, we know at once its relationship to

matter and to motion, and are content; we have described the

constitution of heat in terms of simpler things, which are more

familiar to us, and of which we _think_ we know the nature. But if we

ask what _matter_ is, we are unable to define it in terms of anything

simpler than itself, and can only trust to daily experience to teach

us more and more of its properties; unless, indeed, we accept the

theory of the vortex atoms of Thomson and Helmholtz. This theory,

which has recently been considerably extended by Professor J. J.

Thomson, the present occupier of Clerk Maxwell's chair in the

University of Cambridge, supposes the existence of a perfect fluid,

filling all space, in which minute whirlpools, or vortices, which in a

perfect fluid can be created or destroyed only by superhuman agency,

form material atoms. These are _atoms_, that is to say, they defy any

attempts to sever them, not because they are infinitely hard, but

because they have an infinite capacity for _wriggling_, and thus avoid

direct contact with any other atoms that come in their way. Perhaps a

theory of electricity consistent with this theory of matter may be

developed in the future; but, setting aside these theories, we may

possibly say that we know as much about electricity as we know about

matter; for while we are conversant with many of the properties of

each, we _know_ nothing of the ultimate nature of either.

But while the theory of electricity has scarcely advanced beyond the

point at which it was left by Clerk Maxwell, the practical

applications of the science have experienced great developments of

late years. Less than a century ago the lightning-rod was the only

practical outcome of electrical investigations which could be said to

have any real value. [OE]rsted's discovery, in 1820, of the action of

a current on a magnet, led, in the hands of Wheatstone, Cooke, and

others, to the development of the electric telegraph. Sir William

Thomson's employment of a beam of light reflected from a tiny mirror

attached to the magnet of the galvanometer enabled signals to be read

when only extremely feeble currents were available, and thus rendered

submarine telegraphy possible through very great distances. The

discovery by Arago and Davy, that a current of electricity flowing in

a coil surrounding an iron bar would convert the bar into a magnet, at

once rendered possible a variety of contrivances whereby a current of

electricity could be employed to produce small reciprocating

movements, or even continuous rotation, where not much power was

required, at a distance from the battery. An illustration of the

former is found in the common electric bell; it is only necessary that

the vibrating armature should form part of the circuit of the

electro-magnet, and be so arranged that, while it is held away from

the magnet by a spring, it completes the battery circuit, but breaks

the connection as soon as it moves towards the magnet under the

magnetic attraction. To produce continuous rotation, a number of iron

bars may be attached to a fly-wheel, and pass very close to the poles

of the magnet without touching them; when a bar is near the magnet,

and approaching it, contact should be made in the circuit, but should

be broken, so that the magnet may lose its power, as soon as the bar

has passed the poles; or the continuous rotation may be produced from

an oscillating armature by any of the mechanical contrivances usually

adopted for the conversion of reciprocating into continuous circular

motion. But all such motors are extremely wasteful in their employment

of energy. Faraday's discovery of the rotation of a wire around a

magnetic pole laid the foundation for a great variety of

electro-motors, in some of which the efficiency has attained a very

high standard. About ten years ago, Clerk Maxwell said that the

greatest discovery of recent times was the "reversibility" of the

Gramme machine, that is, the possibility of causing the armature to

rotate between the field-magnets by sending a current through the

coils. The electro-motors of to-day differ but little from dynamos in

the principles of their construction. The copper disc spinning between

the poles of a magnet while an electric current was sent from the

centre to the circumference, or _vice versa_, formed the simplest

electro-motor. All the later motors are simply modifications of this,

designed to increase the efficiency or power of the machine.

Similarly, the earliest machine for the production of an electric

current at the expense of mechanical power only, but through the

intervention of a permanent magnet, was the rotating disc of Faraday,

described on page 262. This contrivance, however, caused a waste of

nearly all the energy employed, for while there was an electro-motive

force from the centre to the circumference, or in the reverse

direction, in that part of the disc which was passing between the

poles of the magnet, the current so generated found its readiest

return path through the other portions of the disc, and very little

traversed the galvanometer or other external circuit. This source of

waste could be, for the most part, got rid of by cutting the disc into

a number of separate rays, or spokes, and filling up the spaces

between them with insulating material. The current then generated in

the disc would be obliged to complete its circuit through the external

conductor. If we can so arrange matters as to employ at once several

turns of a continuous wire in place of one arm, or ray, of the copper

disc, we may multiply in a corresponding manner the electro-motive

force induced by a given speed of rotation. All magneto-electric

generators are simply contrivances with this object. The iron cores

frequently employed within the coils of the armature tend to

concentrate the lines of force of the magnet, causing a greater number

to pass through the coils in certain positions than would pass through

them were no iron present. The electro-motive force of such a

generator depends on the strength of the magnetic field, the length of

wire employed in cutting the lines of force, and the speed with which

the wire moves across these lines. The point to aim at in constructing

an armature is to make the resistance as small as possible consistent

with the electro-motive force required. As there is a limit to the

strength of the magnetic field, it follows that for strong currents,

where thick wire must be employed, the generator must be made of large

dimensions, or the armature must be driven at very high speed to

enable a shorter length of wire to be used.

The so-called "compound-interest principle," by which a very small

charge of electricity might be employed to develop a very large one by

the help of mechanical power, was first applied about a century ago in

the revolving doubler. Long afterwards, Sir William Thomson availed

himself of the same principle in the construction of the "mouse-mill,"

or replenisher. The Holtz machine, the Voss and Wimshurst machines,

and the other induction-machines of the same class, all work on this

principle. It may be illustrated as follows: Take two canisters, call

them A and B, and place them on glass supports. Let a very small

positive charge be given to A, B remaining uncharged. Now take a brass

ball, supported by a silk string. Place it inside A, and let it touch

its interior surface. The ball will, as shown by Franklin, Cavendish,

and Faraday, remain uncharged. Now raise it near the top of the

canister, and, while there, touch it. The ball will become negatively

electrified, because the small positive charge in A will attract

negative electricity from the earth into the ball. Take the ball, with

its negative charge, still hanging by the silk thread, and lower it

into B till it touches the bottom. It will give all its charge to B,

which will thus acquire a slight negative charge. Raise the ball till

it is near the top of B, and then touch it with the finger or a metal

rod. It will receive a positive charge from the earth because of the

attraction of the negative charge on B. Now remove the ball and let it

again touch the interior of A. It will give up all its charge to A;

and then, repeating the whole cycle of operations, the charge carried

on the ball will be greater than before, and increase in each

successive operation, the electrification increasing in geometrical

progression like compound interest. A Leyden jar having one coating

connected to A and the other to B, may thus be highly charged in

course of time. A pair of carrier balls or plates, or a number of

pairs, may be used instead of one. The carriers, just before leaving A

and B, may be put in contact with one another instead of being put to

earth; they may be mounted on a revolving shaft, and the forms of A

and B modified to admit of the revolution of the carriers, and all the

necessary contacts may be made automatically. We thus get various

forms of the continuous electrophorus, and if the carriers are mounted

on glass plates, and rows of points placed alongside the springs or

brushes used for making the contacts, when the charges on the carriers

become very strong, electricity will be radiated from the points on to

the revolving glass plates, which will thus themselves take the place

of the metal carriers. Such is the action in the Voss and other

similar machines.

But after Faraday had shown how to construct a magneto-electric

machine, the idea of applying the "compound-interest principle," and

thus converting the magneto-electric machine into the "dynamo,"

occurred apparently simultaneously and independently to Siemens,

Varley, and Wheatstone. The first dynamo constructed by Wheatstone is

still in the museum of King's College, London. Wilde employed a

magneto-electric machine to generate a current which was used to

excite the electro-magnet of a similar but larger machine, having an

electro-magnet instead of a permanent steel magnet. The electro-magnet

could be made much larger and stronger than the steel magnet, and from

its armature, when made to revolve by steam power, a correspondingly

stronger current could be maintained. The idea which occurred to

Siemens, Varley, and Wheatstone was to use the whole, or a part, of

the current produced by the armature to excite its own electro-magnet,

and thus to dispense with the magneto-electric machine which served as

the separate exciter. When a part only of the current is thus

employed, and is set apart entirely for this duty, the machine is a

"shunt dynamo;" when the whole of the current traverses the

field-magnet coils as well as the external circuit, it is a "series

dynamo." The apparent difficulty lies in starting the current, but a

mass of iron once magnetized always retains a certain amount of

"residual magnetism," unless special means are taken to get rid of

it, and even then the earth's magnetism would generally induce

sufficient in the iron to start the action. Commencing, then, with a

slight trace of residual magnetism, the revolution of the armature

generates a feeble current, which passing round the magnet coils,

strengthens the magnetism, whereupon a stronger current is generated,

which in turn makes the magnet still stronger, and so on until the

magnet becomes saturated or the limit of power of the engine is

reached, and the speed begins to diminish, or a condition of affairs

is reached at which an increased current in the armature injures the

magnetic field as much as the corresponding increase in the

field-magnet coils strengthens it, and then no further increase of

current will take place without increasing the speed of rotation. In a

true dynamo the whole of the energy, both of the current and of the

electro-magnets, is obtained from the source of power employed in

driving the machine.

But Faraday's discovery of electro-magnetic induction led to practical

developments in other directions. Graham Bell placed a thin iron disc

in front of the pole of a bar magnet, and wound a coil of fine wire

round the bar very near the pole. The ends of the coils of two such

instruments he connected together. When the iron disc of one

instrument approached the pole of the magnet, the lines of force were

disturbed, fewer escaped radially from the bar, and more left it at

the end, so as to go straight to the iron disc; thus the number of

lines of force passing through the coil was altered, and a current was

induced which, passing round the coil of the other instrument,

strengthened or weakened its magnet, and caused the iron disc to

approach it or recede from it, according to the way in which the coils

were coupled. Thus the movements of the first disc were faithfully

repeated by the second, and the minute vibrations set up in the disc

by sound-waves were all faithfully repeated by the second instrument.

This was Graham Bell's telephone, in which the transmitter and

receiver were convertible.

But another and an earlier application of Faraday's discoveries is

found in the induction coil. A short length of thick wire and a very

great length of thin wire are wound upon an iron bar. The ends of the

long thin wire, or secondary coil, form the terminals of the machine;

the short thick wire, or primary coil, is connected with a battery,

but in the circuit is placed an "interrupter." This is generally a

small piece of iron, or hammer, mounted on a steel spring opposite one

end of the iron core, the spring pressing the hammer back against a

screw the end of which, like the back of the hammer, is tipped with

platinum; and this contact completes the battery circuit. When the

current starts, the iron core becomes a magnet, attracts the hammer,

breaks the contact, stops the current, the magnetism dies away, the

hammer is forced back by the spring, and then the cycle of events is

repeated. But the starting of the current in the primary causes a

great many lines of magnetic force to pass through each of the many

thousand turns of wire in the secondary, especially as the iron core

conducts most of the lines of force of each turn of the primary almost

from end to end of the coil, and thus through nearly all the turns of

the secondary. This action might be further increased by connecting

the ends of the iron core with an iron tube or series of longitudinal

bars placed outside the whole coil. When the primary current ceases,

all these lines of force vanish. Thus during the starting of the

primary current, which, on account of self-induction, occupies a

considerable time, there will be an inverse current in the secondary

proportional to the rate of increase of the primary; and while the

primary is dying away, there will be a direct current in the secondary

proportional to its rate of decrease. The primary current cannot be

increased at a faster rate than corresponds to the power of the

battery, but by making a very sharp break it may be stopped very

rapidly. Still, however rapidly the circuit is broken, self-induction

causes a spark to fly across the gap until the energy of the current

is used up. The introduction of the condenser, consisting of a number

of sheets of tinfoil insulated by paper steeped in paraffin wax, and

connected alternately with one end or the other of the primary coil,

serves to increase the rapidity with which the primary current died

away, by rapidly using up its energy in charging the condenser, and

produces a corresponding diminution in the spark at the

contact-breaker. This rapid destruction of the primary current causes

a correspondingly great electro-motive force in the secondary coil,

and thus very long sparks are produced between the terminals of the

secondary coil when the primary current is broken, though no such

sparks are produced when the primary current starts. If the secondary

coil be connected up with a galvanometer, so that there is a metallic

circuit throughout, it will be found that just as much electricity

flows in one direction through the circuit at the break of the primary

as flows in the other direction at the make, the difference being that

the first is a very strong current of great electro-motive force but

lasting a very short time, the second a feebler current lasting a

correspondingly longer time.

* * * * *

But though the recent advances in electrical science have been very

great, the grandest triumph of this century is the establishment of

the principle of the conservation of energy, which has settled for

ever the problem of "the perpetual motion," by showing that it has no

solution. This problem was not simply to find a mechanism which should

for ever move, but one from which energy might be continuously derived

for the performance of external work--in fact, an engine which should

require no fuel. But in spite of all that has been proved, numbers of

patents are annually taken out for contrivances to effect this

object.

We have seen how Rumford showed that heat was motion, and how he

approximately determined its mechanical equivalent. Seguin, a nephew

of Montgolfier, endeavoured to show that, when a steam-engine was

working, less heat entered the condenser than when the same amount of

steam was blown idly through the engine. This Hirn succeeded in

showing, thus proving that heat was actually used up in doing work.

Mayer, of Heilbronn, measured the work done in compressing air, and

the heat generated by the compression, and assumed that the whole of

the work done in the compression, and no more, was converted into the

heat developed, which was the same thing as assuming that no work was

done in altering the positions of the particles of gas. From these

measurements he deduced a value of the mechanical equivalent of heat.

The assumption which Mayer made was shown experimentally by Joule to

be nearly correct. Joule proved that, when air expands from a high

pressure into a vacuum, no heat is generated or absorbed on the whole.

This he did by compressing air in an iron bottle, which was connected

with another bottle from which the air had been exhausted, the

connecting tube being closed by a stop-cock. The whole apparatus was

immersed in a bath of water, and on allowing the air to rush from one

vessel into the other, and then stirring the water, the temperature

was found to be the same as before. When the iron bottles were in

separate baths of water, that from which the air rushed was cooled,

and that into which it rushed was heated to the same extent. Joule and

Thomson afterwards showed that a very small amount of heat is absorbed

in this experiment. Joule also showed that the heat generated in a

battery circuit is proportional to the product of the electro-motive

force and the current, or to the product of the resistance and the

square of the current, which, in virtue of Ohm's law, is the same

thing. This relation is often known as Joule's law. He also proved

that, for the same amount of chemical action in the battery, the heat

generated was the same, whether it were all generated within the

battery or part in the battery and part in an external wire; and that

in the latter case, if the wire became so hot as to emit light, the

heat measured was less than before, on account of the energy radiated

as light. With a magneto-electric machine he employed mechanical power

to produce a current, and the energy of the current he converted into

heat. In all cases he found that, _whatever transformations the energy

might undergo in its course, a definite amount of mechanical energy,

if entirely converted into heat, always produced the same amount of

heat_; and he thereby proved, not only that heat is essentially

_motion_, but that it corresponds precisely with that particular

dynamical quantity which is called _energy_; and thus justified the

attempt to find a relation between heat and energy, or to express the

mechanical equivalent of heat as so many foot-pounds.

Joule then set to work to determine, in the most accurate manner

possible, the number of foot-pounds of work which, if entirely

converted into heat, would raise one pound of water through 1 deg. Fahr.

The best known of his experiments is that in which he caused a paddle

to revolve by means of a falling weight, and thereby to churn a

quantity of water contained in a cylindrical vessel, the rotation of

the water being prevented by fixed vanes. In these experiments he

allowed for the work done outside the vessel of water or calorimeter,

for the buoyancy of the air on the descending weight, and for the

energy still retained by the weight when it struck the floor. From the

results obtained he deduced 772 foot-pounds as the mechanical

equivalent of heat. Expressed in terms of the Centigrade scale,

Joule's equivalent, that is, the number of foot-pounds of work in the

latitude of Manchester, which, if entirely converted into heat, will

raise one pound of water 1 deg. C., is 1390.

Joule's experiments show that the same amount of energy always

corresponds to, and can be converted into, the same amount of heat,

and that no transformations, electrical or other, can ever increase or

diminish this quantity. Maxwell expressed this principle as follows:--

_The energy of a system is a quantity which can neither be increased

nor diminished by any actions taking place between the parts of the

system, though it may be transformed into any of the forms of which

energy is susceptible._

This is the great principle of the conservation of energy which is

applicable equally to all branches of science.

Another principle, almost equally general in its applicability, is

that of the dissipation of energy, for which we are indebted in the

first instance to Sir William Thomson. All forms of energy may be

converted into heat, and heat tends so to diffuse itself throughout

all bodies as to bring them to one uniform temperature. This is its

ultimate state of degradation, and from that state no methods with

which we are acquainted can transform any portion of it. When energy

is possessed by a system in consequence of the relative positions or

motions of bodies which we can handle, and whose movements we may

control, the whole of the energy may be employed in doing any work we

please; in fact, it is all _available_ for our purpose, or its

_availability_ may be said to be perfect. Energy in any other form is

limited in its availability by the conditions under which we can place

it. For example, the energy of chemical action in a battery may be

used to produce a current, and this to drive a motor by which

mechanical work is effected, but some of the energy must inevitably be

degraded into the form of heat by the resistance of the battery and of

the conductor, and this portion will be greater as the rate of doing

work is increased. The ratio of the quantity of energy which can be

employed for mechanical purposes with the means at our disposal, to

the whole amount present, is called the _availability_ of the energy.

All forms of energy may be wholly converted into heat, but only a

fraction of any quantity of heat can be transformed into higher forms

of energy, and this depends on the temperature of the source of heat

and of the coldest body which can be employed as a condenser, being

greater the greater the difference between the temperatures of the

source and condenser, and the lower the temperature of the latter. In

every operation which takes place in nature there is a degradation of

energy, and though some portion of the energy may be raised in

availability, another portion is lowered, so that on the whole the

availability is diminished. Thus, in the case of the heat-engine, work

can be obtained from heat only by allowing another portion of the heat

to fall in temperature; and, as originally stated by Sir William

Thomson, "it is impossible, by means of inanimate material agency, to

obtain mechanical effect from any portion of matter by cooling it

below the temperature of the coldest of the surrounding objects," and

to leave the working substance in the same condition in which it was

at the commencement of the operations. Accepting this principle,

Professor James Thomson showed that increase of pressure must lower

the freezing point of water, for otherwise it would be possible to

construct an engine which, working by the expansion of water in

freezing, would continue to do work by cooling a body below the

temperature of any other body available, and he calculated the amount

of pressure necessary to lower the freezing point through one degree.

The conclusion was afterwards experimentally verified by Sir William

Thomson, and served to explain all the phenomena of regelation. Thus,

like the principle of the conservation of energy, the principle of the

dissipation of energy serves as a guide in the search after truth. But

there is this difference between the two principles--no one can

conceive of any method by which to circumvent the conservation of

energy; but Clerk Maxwell showed that the principle of dissipation of

energy might be overridden by the exercise of intelligence on the part

of any creature whose faculties were sufficiently delicate to deal

with individual molecules. In the case of gases, the temperature

depends on the average energy of motion of the individual particles,

and heat consists simply of this motion; but in any mass of gas,

whatever the average energy may be, some of the particles will be

moving with very great, and some with very small, velocities. By

imagining two portions of gas, originally at the same temperature,

separated by a partition containing trap-doors which could be opened

or closed without expenditure of energy, and supposing a "demon"

placed in charge of each door, who would open the door whenever a

particle was approaching very rapidly from one side, or very slowly

from the other, but keep it shut under other circumstances, he showed

that it would be possible to sort the particles, so that those in the

one compartment should have a great velocity, and those in the other a

small one. Hence, out of a mass of gas at uniform temperature, two

portions might be obtained, one at a high temperature and the other at

a low, and, by means of a heat-engine, work could be obtained until

the two portions were again at equal temperatures, when the services

of the "demons" might be again taken advantage of, and the operations

repeated until all the heat was used up.

Any theory which is brought forward to explain a phenomenon, or any

process which is proposed to effect any operation, must in the first

instance submit to the test of the application of these two principles

of conservation and dissipation of energy; and any proposal which

fails to bear these tests may be at once rejected. The essential

feature of the science of to-day is its quantitative character. We

must, for instance, not only know that radiant energy comes to us from

the sun, but we must learn how much energy is annually received by the

earth in this way; and, in the next place, how much energy is radiated

by the sun in all directions in the same time. When we have learned

this, we want to know what is the source of this energy; and no theory

of the sun which does not enable us to explain how this constant

expenditure of energy is maintained can be accepted. Last century it

was possible to believe, with Sir William Herschel, that the greater

part of the sun's mass is comparatively cool, and that it is

surrounded by only a thin sheet of flame. To-day such a theory would

be rejected at once, simply because the thin shell of flame could not

provide energy for the solar radiation for any considerable time. The

contact theory of the galvanic cell, as originally enunciated, fell to

the ground for a similar reason. The simple contact of dissimilar

metals could afford no continuous supply of energy to sustain the

current. Applied to the steam-engine, the doctrine of energy teaches

us, not only that, corresponding to the combustion of a pound of coal,

there is a definite quantity of work which is the mechanical

equivalent of the heat generated, and is such that no engine of which

we can conceive is capable of deriving from the combustion of the

pound of coal a greater amount of work, but it teaches us that there

is a further limitation fixed to the amount of work obtainable. This

limitation depends upon the range of temperature at our command; and,

when the range is known, we can express the amount of energy

realizable by a perfect engine working through that range as a

definite fraction of the whole energy corresponding to the heat of

combustion of the fuel. Thus, if we find that a particular engine

realizes only 15 per cent. of the energy of its fuel in work done, we

must not suppose that mechanical improvements in the engine would

enable us to realize any considerable portion of the other 85 per

cent.; for it may be that a theoretically perfect engine, working with

its boiler and condenser at the same temperatures as those of the

engine considered, could only realize 25 per cent. of the energy of

the fuel, reducing the margin for improvement from 85 to 10 per cent.,

as long as the range of temperature is unaltered. To improve the

efficiency beyond this limit, the range of temperature must be

increased, that is, generally, hotter steam must be used.

The principles of energy are thus guides, not only to the scientific

theorist, but to the practical engineer, and they have been

established only through careful measurement. The simple observation

of phenomena, and of the conditions under which they occur, could

never have led to the establishment of such principles; and, though

the carrying out of experiments which do not involve measurements is

of great value, it is the careful measurement, however simple, which

affords the highest training to the mind and hand, and without which

any course of instruction in experimental physics is of little value.

The Hindoos used to regard the earth as a vast dome carried on the

backs of elephants. The elephants themselves, however, required

support, and were represented as standing on the back of a gigantic

tortoise. It does not, however, appear that any support was provided

for the tortoise. In some respects this figure represents the

apparently perpetual condition of scientific knowledge. Phenomena are

investigated, and are shown to depend upon other actions which appear

simpler or more fundamental than the phenomena at first observed.

These, again, are found to obey laws which are of much wider

application, or appear to be still more fundamental; but it may be

that we are as far off as ever from discovering the great secret of

the universe, the ultimate nature of all things.

Heroes of Science: Physicists · 第 38 / 65 题