III.

_OF THE INFINITELY MINUTE._

When I speak of the infinitely minute, I use the word infinitely not in

its absolute sense, but relatively. Actual infinity of minuteness is as

utterly beyond our conceptions as actual infinity of vastness. But we

may speak of what is very much less than the least object of which our

senses can make us directly conscious as _for us_ infinitely minute.

Among the greatest wonders science has to deal with are those relating

to bodies and movements thus beyond the direct ken of our senses. There

is a universe within the universe which our senses reveal to us,--a

universe whose structure is so fine that the minutest particle which the

microscope can reveal to us is, by comparison, like one of the suns

which people our universe compared with the unseen particles

constituting matter.

It is a strange thought that the objects constituting our universe, so

long regarded by man as the only universe, are in a sense pervaded by

the materials of an utterly different universe,--which yet is as

essential to our very existence as what we commonly call matter. We

cannot live without light and heat, for instance, and again, light and

heat affect matter as we know it; but they thus exist and affect such

matter by means only of a form of matter unlike any which we can

conceive. It is certain that if absolute vacancy separated our earth

from the sun, even by the narrowest imaginable gap, his heat and light

could never reach us. They could no more pass that vacant space than the

wave-motion of water can cross a space where water itself is wanting. It

is because of relations such as these that it has been said, and justly,

that matter is the less important half of the material constituting the

physical universe.

Our knowledge of this universe within our universe has been obtained

within comparatively recent years. Men were unwilling or at least they

spoke and thought as if they were unwilling, to believe that the

universe of matter which they had so long recognised was dependent on

another universe for its chief if not all its properties. They regarded

heat as some sort of substance, which might, with more delicate means

than they possessed, admit of being dealt with as chemists had dealt

with the gases. The sun was full of this fluid, this phlogiston, as it

was called. Light, in so far as it could be distinguished from heat, was

another fluid; electricity was another. These were the imponderables, or

unweighable substances of last century's science,--not as with us, the

effects of modes of motion taking place in a universe which, though

material, is yet not made of matter such as we know, or even such as we

can at present conceive.

This is the greatest of all human scientific marvels,--the greatest

because it includes all others. We know of a universe which is as

infinite in extent, and doubtless in duration, as our own universe;

which pervades all forms of matter: and yet we know of this universe

only indirectly; by the effects of movements taking place within it, not

by any perception of these movements themselves. Waves are ever beating

upon the shores of our material universe, and constantly changing the

form and condition of the coast line, but the waves themselves are

unseen. We only know of their existence through the changes wrought by

them.

We speak of the ether of space, and of waves traversing it, as though

the ether were simply some fluid very much more attenuated than the

rarest gas, even in a so-called vacuum. But in reality, so soon as we

attempt to apply to the movements taking place in such an ether the

mechanical considerations which suffice for the motions of all ordinary

forms of matter, we perceive that it must of necessity be utterly unlike

any kind of substance known to us. For instance, we find that though it

is like a gas in being elastic, its elasticity is infinite compared with

that of any material gas. Again, it is like a solid in retaining each of

its particles always very near to a fixed position; but again, no solid

we know of can be compared with it for a moment as respects this kind of

rigidity. It is at once infinitely elastic and infinitely rigid. We

cannot, for example, explain the phenomena of light unless we suppose

the elasticity of the ether at least 800,000,000,000 times greater than

the elasticity of air at the sea-level; and yet, as Sir J. Herschel long

since pointed out, every phenomenon of light points strongly to the

conclusion that none of the particles of the ether can be "supposed

capable of interchanging places, or of bodily transfer to any measurable

distance from their own special and assigned localities in the universe.

Again, how are we to explain the continuance of the ether in its present

condition, when we recognise the fact that a gas of similar elastic

power would expand in all directions with irresistible force,

diminishing correspondingly in density; yet the ether of space remains

always, so far as we can judge, absolutely unchanged in position. Its

characteristics certainly remained unchanged. Light travels at the same

rate now as it did last year, last century, a million years ago. The

ether, then, that bears it has presumably remained unchanged. If it were

gaseous, and bounded on all sides by vacuum, it would expand with

inconceivable velocity. To suppose it infinite in extent is to get rid

of the difficulty perfectly; but only by introducing a difficulty far

greater."[2]

A wonderful feature of the infinitely tenuous ether is, that while its

ultimate particles must be inconceivably more minute than the ultimate

atoms of ordinary matter, the movements taking place in it are

transmitted with enormous velocities. The structure of our universe is

on a grander scale; its least atom may comprise millions of millions of

the largest component portions of that infinitely tenuous ether. But

amid that ether motions are transmitted with velocities transcending all

but infinitely those which take place among the particles of matter

composing the universe in which we "live and move and have our being."

The planets, immense aggregates of matter such as we know it, sweep

onwards upon their immense orbits, traversing many thousands of miles in

an hour; but light and heat sweep along the ether of space, and by

virtue of motions taking place within that ether at the rate of many

tens of thousands of miles per second. The suns which people space rush

onwards with mightier momentum, but less swiftly than the planets in

their orbits. Comets attain the greatest velocities of all the bodies

that science deals with, rushing sometimes, in their periastral swoop,

with a velocity of hundreds of miles per second,--though yet in

mid-space the comets of widest orbital range lag slowly enough, insomuch

that some of those which, when nearest our sun, travel at the rate of

two or three hundred miles per second, move more slowly when very far

from him than many of our rivers. Taking even the swiftest rush of a

comet within the solar domain, we find that light speeds along five

hundred times more quickly,--so that if we represent the velocity of

light by that of an express train (reducing light's velocity in scale to

about one-10,000,000th part of its real value), the velocity of the

most swiftly-moving comet would be represented by that of a walk at the

rate of one-eighth of a mile per hour,--a very slow walk indeed.

It is not only amid the depths of space that these wonderfully swift

motions take place in the ethereal universe. As I have said, that

universe pervades ours throughout its entire extent. The densest of our

solids is as freely traversed by the ether as a forest by the summer

breeze. As the foliage of a thick forest may prevent the passage of

fierce winds, so may a solid body prevent the passage of

light-waves--though all solid bodies, as we know, do not prevent, and

some scarcely even modify, the passage of light. But substances which

prevent the passage of light are yet found capable of transmitting

ethereal motions of similar velocity. According to Wheatstone's

experiments electricity travels at the rate of more than 200,000 miles

per second along stout copper wire. Fizeau's experiments gave a lower

speed; but they did not negative Wheatstone's, the conditions not being

the same. Can anything be more wonderful than the thought of the

transmission of electricity with this enormous velocity? What really

happens we do not know. Perhaps if we were told what really takes place

between and among the particles of the wire, we should find ourselves

utterly unable to conceive it--for, as we have seen, the properties of

the ether, and, therefore, the processes taking place in the ethereal

universe, are probably unlike any within our experience. But this we

know--a certain condition of the molecules of the wire is transmitted,

by virtue of the ethereal medium pervading the wire, at a rate so

enormous that, if the wire itself could move at that rate, the force

required to bring its mass to rest would suffice to generate enough heat

to turn many times as much metal into the vaporous state.

Nay, even as regards the energy of their action on the matter of our

universe, these movements in the ethereal universe enormously exceed the

forces we are accustomed to regard as most powerful. The effects

produced by gravity, for instance, are almost evanescent compared with

those produced by heat. The sun's rays poured on a piece of metal for a

few minutes produce motions in every one of the ultimate particles of

the metal. Each particle vibrates with inconceivable rapidity (referring

to the rate at which the vibrations succeed each other), and with great

actual velocity of motion. Summing up the energy thus pervading the

piece of metal, we find that it incalculably exceeds the energy

represented by the velocity which the sun's attraction would communicate

in the same interval to that piece of metal, supposed to be entirely

under its influence at the earth's distance from the sun.

Or take another instance. "Think for a moment," say the authors of the

"Unseen Universe," "of the fundamental experiments in electricity and

magnetism, known to men for far more than 2000 years,--the lifting of

light bodies in general by rubbed amber and of iron filings by a

loadstone. To produce the same effect by gravitation-attraction,--at

least, if the attracting body had the moderate dimensions of a

hand-specimen of amber or loadstone,--we should require it to be of so

dense a material as to weigh, at the very least, 1,000,000,000 pounds,

instead of (as usual) a mere fraction of a pound. Hence it is at once

obvious that the imposing nature of the force of gravity, as usually

compared with other attractive forces, is due, not to its superior

qualitative magnitude, but to the enormous masses of the bodies which

exercise it."

We may put this illustration in another form. When we place a powerful

magnet near a piece of iron, say at a distance of one inch, and the

magnet lifts that piece of iron by virtue of its attractive power, a

contest has been waged, if one may so speak, between the attractive

powers of the small magnet and of the mighty earth, and the magnet has

conquered the earth. Now the magnet has been much nearer than the earth

to the piece of iron, for we know that the earth's attractive influence

has been the same as though the entire mass of the earth were gathered

at its centre, say 4000 miles from the piece of iron. A distance of 4000

miles contains 4000 times 1760 times thirty-six inches, or, roughly, 250

millions of inches. (This is in truth very near the true number of

inches in the earth's radius, insomuch that many suppose the inch to

have been originally taken as the 500,000,000th part of the earth's

diameter. A British inch is about one-500,000,000th part of the polar

diameter of the earth.) Since attraction diminishes as the square of the

distances increases, and _vice versâ_, it follows that if the earth's

entire mass could act on the piece of iron, at a distance of one inch,

the attraction would exceed that actually exerted by the earth 250

million times 250 million times, or 62,500 millions of millions of

times. In this degree, then, the earth is at a disadvantage compared

with the magnet as respects distance. And one-62,500,000,000,000,000th

part of the earth's mass would be capable of attracting the piece of

iron as strongly as the earth actually attracts it, if that fraction of

the earth's mass could exert its pull from a distance of only one inch.

But a 62,500,000,000,000,000th part of the earth would be an enormous

mass. It would weigh about 97,500 tons, or some 218 millions of pounds.

Thus a magnet which a child can lift exerts a greater attraction on the

piece of iron at the same distance than a mass at least 1000 million

times its weight could exert by its gravity only.

In fact we see from this illustration that gravity, though it produces

effects so tremendous, though it sways the moon round the earth, the

earth and all the other planets around the sun, and urges the sun and

his fellow-suns through space, is, after all, but a puny force in

itself. A child can lift his own weight against the attraction of the

mighty earth; and by combined strength as many children as would have a

weight equal to the earth's would easily bear a weight exceeding the

earth's, if the force could be wholly and directly applied to such

work.[3]

The attraction of gravity must, however, be regarded as only one

manifestation of the energies of the infinitely minute. It is in this

sense well worthy of careful study. I propose to present in a future

paper some of the strange thoughts which are suggested by the action of

this wonderful force, the range of whose activity is seemingly

co-extensive with the material universe.

Flowers of the Sky · 第 20 / 40 题