The electrical kite--Candles magically lighted--St. Elmo’s
fire--The chronoscope--The electric clock--The electric
telegraph--Sub-marine telegraphs--The overruling providence of
God.
In the auto-biographical memoirs of sir John Barrow, lately published,
he says, when describing some of the employments of his youth: “I had
fallen in with an account of Benjamin Franklin’s electrical kite, and a
kite being a very common object with school-boys, and a string steeped
in salt-water with a glass-handle to it not difficult to be had, I
speedily flew my kite, and obtained abundance of sparks (like those
obtained from an electrical machine). An old woman, curious to see
what I was about, was too tempting an opportunity to not to give her a
shock, which so frightened her, that she spread abroad in the village
that I was no better than I should be, for that I was drawing down fire
from heaven. The alarm ran through the village, and my poor mother
entreated me to lay aside my kite.”
It was recently announced by a professor of magic, that several hundred
candles would be lighted by one pistol shot. Accordingly, the stage
appeared in partial darkness, but, through the gloom, ranges of candles
might be indistinctly perceived at different heights from the floor;
and, in a minute or two, the performer was seen to enter and discharge
a pistol, when all the candles were instantly ignited, and the array
of magical instruments appeared strongly illuminated, ready to be
employed in the subsequent exploits--an effect always followed by
enthusiastic acclamations. And yet there is no difficulty in explaining
this prodigy. Candles, carefully prepared to ignite readily, might have
above them an arrangement of wires, with the point of a wire just over
each wick, and the whole being connected with an electrical battery,
they could be ignited instantly, at a moment’s notice. The instant of
the performer’s entering, might be the signal for the discharge of the
battery by others, and the report of the pistol would prevent any sound
being heard on the removal of the wires, which the previous darkness
had effectually concealed.
Lord Napier says, that when he was in the Mediterranean, some years
ago, and during an awful thunderstorm, he was retiring to rest, when
he heard suddenly a cry, from those aloft, of “St. Elmo and St. Anne!”
which induced him again to go on deck. On observing the appearance of
the masts, the maintop-gallant-mast-head was completely enveloped in
a blaze of pale phosphoric light; the other mast-heads presented a
similar appearance; the flame preserving its intensity for eight or
ten minutes, and then gradually becoming fainter. Yet this appearance,
which superstition declared to be miraculous, was only electrical; for,
while the solar heat is converting into vapour the water and moisture
of the earth, electricity is freely disengaged. “The clouds which
this power forms are in different electrical conditions, though the
electricity of the atmosphere, when serene, is invariably the same.
Hence the descent of clouds towards the earth, their mutual approach,
the force of atmospherical currents, and the ever-varying agencies of
heat and cold convert the aërial envelope of the globe into a complete
electrical apparatus; spontaneously exhibiting, in a variety of forms,
the play of the conflict of its antagonist powers. At the close of
a sultry day, and above level plains, the opposite electricities of
the earth and the air effect their re-union in noiseless flashes of
lightning, illuminating, as it were, in far-spread sheets, the whole
circuit of the horizon, and the entire canopy of the clouds. At other
times, the same elements light up the arctic constellations with their
restless wildfires--now diffusing their phosphoric flame, and flitting
around in fitful gleams, and now shooting up their auroral columns,
advancing, retreating, and contending, as if in mimicry of mortal
strife.”[I]
That electricity and magnetism are identical, is evident from many
experiments. If a sewing-needle be placed in a wire, twisted in that
form called a helix, and a shock of electricity be then passed through
it, from a Leyden jar, the needle will be magnetized. The form of the
wire, and the manner of placing the needle, are shown in the figure.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Again, if M be a piece of soft iron, of a horse-shoe shape, and
surrounded with copper-wire covered with a non-conducting substance, it
will become powerfully magnetic on connecting the ends of the wire with
a galvanic battery. If this be only of a moderate size, and a keeper,
I, be attached to M, it will suspend W, representing a very heavy
weight.
Mr. Barlow has so arranged a globe, as to identify the dip of the
needle with electricity, a current of which appears to be always
passing round the earth. At G, in the opposite diagram, is a globe
having a wire covered with silk, coiled entirely over it, from one
pole, round and round to the other. The ends of this wire dip into two
cups, P and N, connected with the poles of a galvanic battery. When the
current passes from this, the small and delicately balanced magnets,
_m_, will show polarity, and dip, just the same as in the earth itself.
[Illustration]
Mr. Bain’s electric clock is a remarkable contrivance. Nothing can be
more satisfactory or complete. Allowing for wear and tear of materials
from friction, and the oxidating influence of the atmosphere, the
perpetual motion appears to be realized. As long as the electricity
of the earth continues, or, in other words, as long as the laws of
nature last, so long will Mr. Bain’s clock continue its oscillations,
and register the transit of time. The pendulum conducts, and is the
treasury of that power, and two simple wheels and their attachments,
with the dead escapement, complete the machine. By an ingenious
provision, Mr. Bain’s electric clock at the manufactory extinguishes
the gas-light which illuminates its dial, at half-past twelve precisely.
Mr. Bain has invented and patented another kind of electric clock,
the clock being in Glasgow, and the pendulum in Edinburgh. By means
of the electric telegraph along the railway, constructed by Mr. Bain,
he intimated his wish that the pendulum at the other end of the line
should be put in motion. The clock was placed in the station-house
in Glasgow, the pendulum belonging to it in the station-house at
Edinburgh, the two being forty-six miles apart. They were joined by
means of the wire of the telegraph, in such a manner as that, by a
current of electricity, the machinery of the clock in Glasgow was
made to move correctly, according to the vibrations of the electrical
pendulum in Edinburgh. Thus, in like manner, were England and Scotland
united in one great chronometrical alliance, a single electrical
pendulum of this description, placed in the Observatory at Greenwich,
would give the astronomical time correctly throughout the country.
[Illustration]
The electric telegraph may be said to have originated in a trivial
incident. It occurred to professor Oersted, of Copenhagen, to try the
effect of a galvanic current on the needle of the compass. He found it,
on making the experiment, deflected, that is, turned aside from its
usual bearing of due north and south. Professor Wheatstone applied this
result very ingeniously. He arranged a series of needles, mounted like
that of the compass, and found that he could turn any of these aside by
galvanic currents, while the others remained at rest. It was evident,
therefore, that if each needle were supposed to denote a letter, any
letters might thus be indicated; and, consequently, if an arrangement
of needles standing for so many letters, respectively, were placed
at the distance of fifty or a hundred miles, and any of them were
acted on by means of wires traversing the distance, a message could be
despatched at one end of the line, and read off at the other from the
deflected needles, by any person duly acquainted with the arrangement.
A similar set of needles at the opposite end, would enable him, as
certainly, to transmit a reply.
The engraving represents the front of the telegraph, exhibiting the
index, as it is denominated. The wires, which are suspended through
the length of the line, are attached at either end to the telegraphic
instruments, a branch wire being fastened to a large metallic surface,
imbedded in the earth for completing the electric current. When at
rest, the handles are down, and the pointers remain in their vertical
position. The signals are given by two magnetic needles, or pointers,
each suspended vertically on an axis passing through the dial, and,
behind, another pointer is fixed on each corresponding axis. A portion
of the conducting wire, many yards in length, is coiled round the
galvanometer frame, in which the magnet moves, so as to subject the
magnet to the multiplied deflecting force of the electric current.
[Illustration]
The battery is the motive power of the machine, occupying the same
relative position to it, as the boiler does to the locomotive; for,
though it does not produce any immediate result on the works, yet the
part it performs in the undertaking is essential. While travelling,
Mr. Cooke found great inconvenience to result from the spilling of the
acid solution used in Smee’s batteries; and, from this, he was led to
consider if the substitution of fine white Shanklin sand, saturated
with the diluted acid, would not avoid this difficulty. Experiments
having confirmed the truth of his conjecture, the change was
permanently arranged, and it was subsequently found so advantageous,
that the same method was tried in the permanent batteries, and, in like
manner, the result has proved satisfactory. At present, the generator
resembles, in its principal features, the one known as Wollaston’s
trough; and it is so arranged, that the series of plates of copper and
amalgamated zinc, arranged for the evolution of the electric fluid,
admit of being placed in a corresponding series of cells, filled with
well-washed and dry sand. The _United Service Gazette_ states, that
all that is necessary in order to use the instrument is, slightly to
moisten the sand with diluted sulphuric acid.
The conducting wires are, at their ends, of less diameter, and are so
arranged as to form the coiled magnets. Those in the diagram are seen
in connexion with the works; the electric current, taking the course
indicated by the arrows, occasions the deflection of the needle.
The following engraving represents the interior of the machine, and
shows the means by which the magnet is connected with the electric
current. The parts lettered _a_ are the key-shafts, which, on being
turned to the right or left by a handle, pushes one of the springs,
_c_, from its point of contact, _d_, and, by changing the course of the
electric current, produces a corresponding change in the position of
the needle.
[Illustration]
In making a communication to the person stationed at the point where
he wishes the information to be received, the operator, by turning
the handle to the right or left, breaks the electric current; then,
pressing the wire against pins connected with the battery-poles,
the coils of wire receive their full deflective force, and attract
the magnetic needles to either side, according to the course of the
current. Thus, if the stream of electricity passes into the coil on
the right, the upper part of the needle will be attracted towards it;
if the stream passes into the coil on the left, then the needle will,
in like manner, be attracted to it; thus, giving the whole motion
necessary to the pointers. The time which elapses between the moving
of the handles and the effect on the pointers, is imperceptible,
though we must believe that it really follows it. The dial is divided
into five circles, each containing a number of letters, or signs. The
left-hand needle moving to the left twice, gives _a_; three times, _b_;
once to the right and once to the left, _c_; once to the left and once
to the right, _d_; once to the right, _e_; twice, _f_; three times,
_g_. The order is then taken up by the right-hand needle moving once
to the left for _h_; twice for _i_; three times for _k_; once to the
right and once to the left for _l_; once to the left, and once to the
right, for _m_; once to the right for _n_; twice for _o_; and three
times for _p_. The remaining signs are made by two needles working
conjointly, so that the simultaneous movement of the _two_, once to the
left, indicates _r_; twice for _s_; three times for _t_; once to the
right, and once to the left, for _u_; once to the right for _w_; twice
for _x_; and three times for _y_. At the end of every word given, the
left-hand needle, moving once to the right, to the cross, indicates
that the word is completed. If the receiver understands the word, he
signifies it by moving the same pointer twice to the left, and twice to
the right, which means _yes_; if the communication is not understood,
then the needle points twice to the right, and twice to the left,
which indicates _no_. The original word is then repeated; if figures
are wanted, the motions for each letter are doubled. Previously to
giving a signal, the attention of the operator is called by the ringing
of a bell, which is accomplished by an apparatus as simple as it is
ingenious.[J]
That communications by this means may often be of great importance,
is evident, from many newspaper paragraphs. The following appeared
in the early part of 1847: “On Friday evening the following message
was received at the Chesterfield station: ‘Tell Derby, a Mr. H. has
escaped from the York Asylum, and is supposed to have fire-arms about
his person. Search all the trains from York. He is tall, has a crooked
nose, and has a green coat with pockets at the side. Tell the police to
look out.’ To this message another succeeded from Leeds: ‘He is caught
at Leeds; they have him quite secure.’”
An establishment has lately been opened near the Bank of England, in
which telegraphic intelligence may be despatched, or received, in all
the principal towns of our country. The difficulties which have existed
in reference to sub-marine telegraphs appear to have been overcome;
for the time occupied from the commencement of carrying the telegraph
across Portsmouth harbour, and transmitting signals, does not occupy
a quarter-of-an-hour. The telegraph, which has the appearance of an
ordinary rope, is coiled into one of the dockyard boats, one end of
it being made fast on shore; and, as the boat is pulled across, the
telegraphic rope is gradually paid out over the stern, its superior
gravity causing it to sink to the bottom immediately. The telegraph
consists of but this line; and, unlike those along the various
railways, requires no return wires to perfect the circuit. The electric
fluid is transmitted from the batteries in the dockyard, through the
submersed insulated wire to the opposite shore; the fluid returning to
the negative pole through the water without the aid of any metallic
conductor, except a short piece of wire thrown over the dockyard
parapet into the water, and connecting it with the batteries. The
fact of the water acting as a ready return conductor, is established
beyond question. In 1842, Mr. Snow Harris, when proving the efficiency
of his lightning-conductors in his experiments from this dockyard
to the Orestes, exemplified that water would serve to complete the
electric circuit. On that occasion, the distance traversed by the
return current through the water was but trifling compared with the
space accomplished in the present instance. The batteries used are
Smee’s; and a very delicate and accurate galvanic detector, invented by
Mr. Hay, the chemical lecturer of the dockyard, has also been brought
into requisition. Independent of the simplicity of this sub-marine
telegraph, it has an advantage which even the telegraphs on land do not
possess--in the event of accident, it can be replaced in ten minutes.
At the last meeting of the British Association, the chairman, sir R.
H. Inglis, thus adverted to the progress of the electric telegraph,
from a report presented to the Legislative Council and Assembly of New
Brunswick, relative to a project for constructing a railway, and with
it a line of electro-magnetic telegraph, from Halifax to Quebec:--
“The system is daily extending. It was, however, in the United States
of America that it was first adopted on a great scale, by professor
Morse, in 1844; and it is there that it is now already developed most
extensively. Lines for above thirteen hundred miles are in action, and
connect those states with Her Majesty’s Canadian provinces; and it is
in a course of development so rapid that, in the words of the report
of Mr. Wilkinson to my distinguished friend, his excellency sir W. E.
Colebrook, the governor of New Brunswick, ‘no schedule of telegraphic
lines can now be relied upon for a month in succession, as hundreds
of miles may be added in that space of time. So easy an attainment
does such a result appear to be, and so lively is the interest felt
in its accomplishment, that it is scarcely doubtful that the whole
of the populous parts of the United States will, within two or three
years, be covered with a net-work, like a spider’s web, suspending its
principal threads upon important points, along the sea-board of the
Atlantic on one side, and upon similar points along the lake frontier
on the other.’ I am indebted to the same report for another fact,
which I think the association will regard with equal interest:--‘The
confidence in the efficiency of telegraphic communication has now
become so established, that the most important commercial transactions
daily transpire, by its means, between correspondents several
hundred miles apart. Ocular evidence of this was afforded me by a
communication a few minutes old between a merchant in Toronto, and his
correspondent in New York, distant about six hundred and thirty-two
miles.’ I am anxious to call your attention to the advantages which
other classes also may experience from this mode of communication,
as I find it in the same report:--‘When the Hibernia steamer arrived
in Boston, in January, 1847, with the news of the scarcity in Great
Britain, Ireland, and other parts of Europe, and with heavy orders for
agricultural produce, the farmers in the interior of the states of New
York, informed of the state of things by the magnetic telegraph, were
thronging the streets of Albany with innumerable team-loads of grain,
almost as quickly after the arrival of the steamer at Boston, as the
news of that arrival could ordinarily have reached them. I may add
that, irrespectively of all its advantages to the general community,
the system appears to give already a fair return of interest to the
individuals or companies who have invested their capital in its
application.’”
Professor Morse states, as the result of improvements in this
telegraph, the president’s message, entire, on the subject of the war
with Mexico, was transmitted with perfect accuracy at the rate of
ninety-nine letters per minute. His skilful operators in Washington
and Baltimore printed these characters at the rate of ninety-eight,
one hundred-and-one, one hundred-and-eleven, and one of them actually
printed one hundred-and-seventeen per minute. He must be an expert
penman who can write legibly more than one hundred letters per minute;
consequently, this mode of communication equals, or nearly equals, the
most expeditious mode of recording thought!
Here, then, we close our series of illustrations of what is popularly
termed “Natural Magic,” but, strictly speaking, of natural laws; having
glanced at the arrangements of mechanical skill, terrestrial phenomena,
chemical wonders, and the effects of light, heat, and electricity.
In doing so, we are reminded of the words of the psalmist:--“Thy
faithfulness is unto all generations: thou hast established the earth,
and it abideth. They continue this day according to thine ordinances:
for all are thy servants,” Psa. cxix. 90, 91.
The constancy of nature, thus so clearly indicated, is illustrated by
ordinary experience. The child who flies his kite in the air, or places
his little ship on the surface of the stream, or gathers together the
dry leaves to make a blaze, yea, even by the food that he eats, and
by his movements in his daily walks, proves that nature has laws, and
that in them there is continuance. In after-life, the fact is still
more obvious. Every day and every night bear their explicit testimony
to it. Water finds its way to the ocean by a thousand channels; it is
raised to the higher regions of the atmosphere to be dispersed in light
and fleecy clouds over the four quarters of the globe; and, at length,
accomplishes its circuit, by falling in showers on the dry and thirsty
ground.
“It needs, however,” says Chalmers, “the aid of philosophy to learn
how unvarying nature is in all her processes--how even her seeming
anomalies can be traced to a law that is inflexible--for what might
appear at first to be the caprices of her waywardness, are, in fact,
the evolutions of a mechanism that never changes--and that, the more
thoroughly she is sifted and put to the test by the interrogations of
the curious, the more certainly will they find that she walks by a rule
which knows no abatement; and perseveres with obedient foot-step in
that even course, from which the eye of strictest scrutiny has never
yet detected one hair’s-breadth of deviation. It is no longer doubted
by men of science, that every remaining semblance of irregularity
in the universe is due, not to the fickleness of nature, but to the
ignorance of man--that her most hidden movements are conducted with
a uniformity as rigorous as fate--that even the fitful agitations of
the weather have their law and principle--that the intensity of every
breeze, and the number of drops in every shower, and the formation of
every cloud, and all the occurring alternations of storm and sunshine,
and the endless shiftings of temperature, and those tremulous varieties
of the air which our instruments have enabled us to discover, but have
not enabled us to explain--that still, they follow each other by a
method of succession, which, though greatly more intricate, is yet as
absolute in itself as the order of the seasons, or the mathematical
courses of astronomy. This is the impression of every philosophical
mind with regard to nature, and it is strengthened by each new
accession that is made to science. The more we are acquainted with her,
the more are we led to recognise her constancy, and to view her as a
mighty, though complicated machine, all whose results are sure, and all
whose workings are invariable!”
Who is not filled with amazement in contemplating the power of the
Almighty? Only let it be his will to set one of his agents loose, and
the earth and all that it contains shall be burned up. Well may we
tremble at the thought of that “wrath which is revealed from heaven
against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men!” On those who
believe not, the curse of Jehovah abides. Would that men considered
how fearful a thing it is to fall into the hands of the living God!
Convinced by the Holy Spirit of their guilt and danger, they would then
fly to the only hope set before them in the gospel.
“In vain we seek for peace with God
By methods of our own:
Jesus, there’s nothing but thy blood
Can bring us near the throne.
The threatening of thy broken law
Impress our souls with dread;
If God his sword of vengeance draw,
It strikes our spirits dead.
But thine illustrious Sacrifice
Hath answered these demands;
And peace, and pardon, from the skies,
Came down by Jesus’ hands.”
It has been well remarked by Bacon, that “it is heaven on earth to
live in charity, to turn upon the poles of truth, and to rest in
Providence.” The tenderness and minuteness of the Divine care are
taught us by our Lord himself: “Fear not them which kill the body,
but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able
to destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for
a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your
Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not
therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows,” Matt. x. 28–31.
Let, then, all who are reconciled to God through the death of his Son,
be comforted by this truth. God is not far from every one of us; the
vast and the minute are alike under his control; and he has graciously
promised that all things shall “work together for good to them that
love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”
In the ignorance and superstition of the human mind, applications are
sometimes made to those who are supposed to be endowed with magical
powers. Such practices are condemned in the Scriptures as vain and
wicked. Hence, says the prophet Isaiah, “When they shall say unto
you, Seek unto them that have familiar spirits, and unto wizards that
peep, and that mutter: should not a people seek unto their God? for the
living to the dead? To the law and to the testimony: if they speak not
according to this word, it is because there is no light in them,” Isa.
viii. 19, 20.