A Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy/Part 3, chap. 5
Heat.
(344.) One of the chief agents in chemistry, on whose proper application and management the success of a great number of its enquiries depends, and many of whose most important laws are disclosed to us by phenomena of a chemical nature, is heat. Although some of its effects are continually before our eyes as matters of the most common occurrence, insomuch that there is scarcely any process in the useful arts and manufactures which does not call for its intervention, and although, independent of this high utility, and the proportionate importance of a knowledge of its nature and laws, it presents in itself a subject of the most curious speculation; yet there is scarcely any physical agent of which we have so imperfect a knowledge, whose intimate nature is more hidden, or whose laws are of such delicate and difficult investigation.
(345.) The word heat generally implies the sensation which we experience on approaching a fire; but, in the sense it carries in physics, it denotes the cause, whatever it be, of that sensation, and of all the other phenomena which arise on the application of fire, or of any other heating cause. We should be greatly deceived if we referred only to sensation as an indication of the presence of this cause. Many of those things which excite in our organs, and especially of those of taste, a sensation of heat, owe this property to chemical stimulants, and not at all to their being actually hot. This error of judgment has produced a corresponding confusion of language, and hence had actually at one period[1] crept into physical philosophy a great many illogical and absurd conclusions. Again, there are a number of chemical agents, which, from their corroding, blackening, and dissolving, or drying up the parts of some descriptions of bodies, and producing on them effects not generally unlike (though intrinsically very different from) those produced by heat, are said, in loose and vulgar language, to burn them; and this error has even become rooted into a prejudice, by the fact that some of these agents are capable of becoming actually and truly hot during their action on moist substances, by reason of their combination with the water the latter contain. Thus, quicklime and oil of vitriol both exercise a powerful corrosive action on animal and vegetable substances, and both become violently hot by their combination with water. They are, therefore, set down in vulgar parlance as substances of a hot nature; whereas, in their relations to the physical cause of heat, they agree with the generality of bodies similarly constituted.
(346.) The nature of heat has hitherto been chiefly studied under the general heads of—
1st, Its sources, or the phenomena which it usually accompanies.
2d, Its communication from its sources to substances capable of receiving it, and from these to others, with a view to discover the laws which regulate its distribution through space or through the bodies which occupy it.
3d, Its effects, on our senses, and on the bodies to which it is communicated in its various degrees of intensity, by which, means are afforded us of measuring these degrees.
4th, Its intimate relations to the atoms of matter, as exhibited in its capability of acquiring a latent state under certain circumstances, and of entering into something like chemical combinations.
(347.) The most obvious sources of heat are, the sun, fire, animal life, fermentations, violent chemical actions of all kinds, friction, percussion, lightning, or the electric discharge, in whatever manner produced, the sudden condensation of air, and others, so numerous, and so varied, as to show the extensive and important part it has to perform in the economy of nature. The discoveries of chemists, however, have referred most of these to the general head of chemical combination. Thus, fire, or the combustion of inflammable bodies, is nothing more than a violent chemical action attending the combination of their ingredients with the oxygen of the air. Animal heat is, in like manner, referable to a process bearing no remote analogy to a slow combustion, by which a portion of carbon, an inflammable principle existing in the blood, is united with the oxygen of the air in respiration; and thus carried off from the system: fermentation is nothing more than a decomposition of chemical elements loosely united, and their re-union in a more permanent state of combination. The analogy between the sun and terrestrial fire is so natural as to have been chosen by Newton to exemplify the irresistible force of an inference derived from that principle. But the nature of the sun and the mode in which its wonderful supply of light and heat is maintained are involved in a mystery which every discovery that has been made either in chemistry or optics, so far from elucidating, seems only to render more profound. Friction as a source of heat is well known: we rub our hands to warm them, and we grease the axles of carriage-wheels to prevent their setting fire to the wood; an accident which, in spite of this precaution, does sometimes happen. But the effect of friction, as a means of producing heat with little or no consumption of materials, was not fully understood till made the subject of direct experiment by count Rumford, whose results appear to have established the extraordinary fact, that an unlimited supply of heat may be derived by friction from the same materials. Condensation, whether of air by pressure, or of metals by percussion, is another powerful source of heat. Thus, iron may be so dexterously hammered as to become red-hot, and the rapid condensation of a confined portion of air will set tinder on fire.
(348.) The most violent heats known are produced by the concentration of the solar rays by burning glasses,—by the combustion of oxygen and hydrogen gases mixed in the exact proportion in which they combine to produce water,—and by the discharge of a continued and copious current of electricity through a small conductor. As these three sources of heat are independent of each other, and each capable of being brought into action in a very confined space, there seems no reason why they might not all three be applied at once at the same point, by which means, probably, effects would be produced infinitely surpassing any hitherto witnessed.
(349.) Heat is communicated either by radiation between bodies at a distance, or by conduction between bodies in contact, or between the contiguous parts of one and the same body. The laws of the radiation of heat have been studied with great attention, and have been found to present strong analogies with that of light in some points, and singular differences in others. Thus, the heat which accompanies the sun's rays comports itself, in all respects, like light; being subject to similar laws of reflection, refraction, and even of polarization, as has been shown by Berard. Yet they are not identical with each other; Sir William Herschel having shown, by decisive experiments, verified by those of Sir H. Englefield, that there exist in a solar beam both rays of heat which are not luminous, and rays of light which have no heating power.
(350.) The heat, radiated by terrestrial fires, and by bodies obscurely hot, by whatever means they have acquired their heat (even by exposure to the sun's rays), differs very materially from solar heat in their power of penetrating transparent substances. This singular and important difference was first noticed by Mariotte, and afterwards made the subject of many curious and interesting experiments by Scheele, who found that terrestrial heat, or that radiated from fires or heated bodies, is intercepted and detained by glass or other transparent bodies, while solar heat is not; and that, being so detained, it heats them: which the latter, as it passes freely through them, is incapable of doing. The more recent researches of Delaroche, however, have shown that this detention is complete only when the temperature of the source of heat is low; but that, as that temperature is higher, a portion of the heat radiated acquires a power of penetrating glass; and that the quantity which does so bears continually a larger and larger proportion to the whole, as the heat of the radiant body is more intense. This discovery is very important, as it establishes a community of nature between solar and terrestrial heat; while at the same time it leads us to regard the actual temperature of the sun as far exceeding that of any earthly flame.
(351.) A variety of theories have been framed to account for these curious phenomena; but the subject stands rather in need of further elucidation from experiment, and is one which merits, and will probably amply repay, the labours of those who may hereafter devote their attention to it. The theory f the radiation of heat, in general, which seems to agree best with the known phenomena, is that of M. Prevost, who considers all bodies as constantly radiating out heat in all directions, and receiving it by a similar means of communication from others, and thus tending, in any space filled, wholly or in part, with bodies at various temperatures, to establish an equilibrium or equality of heat in all parts. The application of this idea to the explanation of the phenomenon of dew we have already seen (see 167.). The laws of such radiation, under various circumstances, have been lately investigated in a beautiful series of experiments on the cooling of bodies by their own radiation in vacuo, by Messrs. Dulong and Petit, which offer some of the best examples in science of the inductive investigation of quantitative laws.
(352.) The communication of heat between bodies in contact, or between the different parts of the same body, is performed by a process called conduction. It is, in fact, only a particular case of radiation, as has been explained above (217.); but a case so particular as to require a separate and independent investigation of its laws. The most important consideration introduced into the enquiry by this peculiarity is that of time. The communication of heat by conduction is performed, for the most part, with extreme slowness, while that performed by direct radiation is probably not less rapid than the propagation of light itself. The analysis of the delicate and difficult points which arise in the investigation of this subject in its reduction to direct geometrical treatment has been executed with admirable success by the late Baron Fourrier, whose recent lamented death has deprived science of an ornament it could ill spare, thinned as its ranks have been within the last few years. This acute philosopher and profound mathematician has developed, in a series of elaborate memoirs presented to the French Institute, the laws of the communication of heat through the interior of solid masses, placed under the influence of any external heating and cooling causes, and has in particular applied his results to the conditions on which the maintenance of the actual observed temperature on the earth's surface depends; to the possible influence of a supposed central heat on our climates; and to the determination of the actual amount of the heat, derived to us from the sun, or at least that portion of it on which the difference of the seasons depends.
(353.) The principal effects of heat are the sensations of warmth or cold consequent on its entry or egress into or out of our bodies; the dilatation it causes in the dimensions of all substances in which it is accumulated; the changes of state it produces in the melting of solids, and the conversion of them and of liquids into vapour; and the chemical changes it performs by actual decompositions effected in the intimate molecules of various substances, especially those of which vegetables and animals are composed; to which we may add, the production of electric phenomena under certain circumstances in the contact of metals, and the developement of electric polarity in crystallised substances.
(354.) Cold has been considered by some as a positive quality, the effect of a cause antagonist to that of heat; but this idea seems now (with perhaps a single exception) to be universally abandoned. The sensation of cold is as easily explicable by the passage of heat outwards through the surface of the body as that of heat by its ingress from without; and the experiments cited in proof of a radiation of cold are all perfectly explained by Prevost's theory of reciprocal interchange. It is remarkable, however, how very limited our means of producing intense cold are, compared with those we possess of effecting the accumulation of heat in bodies. This is one of the strongest arguments adducible in favour of the doctrines of those who maintain the possibility of exhausting the heat of a body altogether, and leaving it in a state absolutely devoid of it. But we ought to consider, that the known methods of generating heat chiefly turn on the production of chemical combinations: we may easily conceive, therefore, that, to obtain equally powerful corresponding frigorific effects, we ought to possess the means of effecting a disunion equally extensive and rapid between such elements, actually combined, as have already produced heat by their union. This, however, we can only accomplish by engaging them in combinations still more energetic, that is to say, in which we may reasonably expect more heat to be produced by the new combination than would be destroyed or abstracted by the proposed decomposition. Chemistry, however, (unaided by electric agency,) affords no means of suddenly breaking the union of two elements, and presenting both in an uncombined state. A certain analogy to such disunion, however, and its consequences, may be traced in the sudden expansion of condensed gases from a liquid state into vapour, which is the most powerful source of cold known.
(355.) The dilatation of bodies by heat forms the subject of that branch of science called pyrometry. There is no body but is capable of being penetrated by heat, though some with greater, others with less rapidity; and being so penetrated, all bodies (with a very few exceptions, and those depending on very peculiar circumstances,) are dilated by it in bulk, though with a great diversity in the amount of dilatation produced by the same degree of heat. Of the several forms of natural bodies, gases and vapours are observed to be most dilatable; liquids next, and solids least of all. The dilatation of solids has been made a subject of repeated and careful measurement by several experimenters; among whom, Smeaton, Lavoisier, and Laplace, are the principal. The remarkable discovery of the unequal dilatation of crystallised bodies by Mitscherlich has already been spoken of. (266.) That of gases and vapours was examined about the same time by Dalton and Gay-Lussac, who both arrived independently at the conclusion of an equal dilatability subsisting in them all, which constitutes one of the most remarkable points in their history.
(356.) The dilatation of air by heat affords, perhaps, the most unexceptionable means known of measuring degrees of heat. The thermometer, as originally constructed by Cornelius Drebell, was an air thermometer. Those now in common use measure accessions of heat not by the degree of dilatation of air but of mercury. It has been shown, by the researches of Dulong and Petit, that its indications coincide exactly with that of the air-thermometer in moderate temperatures; though at very elevated ones they exhibit a sensible, and even considerable, deviation. By this instrument, which owes its present convenience and utility to the happy idea of Newton, who first thought of fixing determinate points on its scale, we are enabled to estimate, or at least identify, the degrees of heat; and thereby to investigate with accuracy the laws of its communication and its other properties. Were we sure that equal additions of heat produced equal increments of dimension in any substance, the indications of a thermometer would afford a true and secure measure of the quantity present; but this is so far from being the case, that we are nearly in total ignorance on this important point; a circumstance which throws the greatest difficulty in the way of all theoretical reasoning, and even of experimental enquiry. The laws of the dilatation of liquids, in consequence of this deficiency of necessary preliminary knowledge, are still involved in great obscurity, notwithstanding the pains which have been bestowed on them by the elaborate experiments and calculations of Gilpin, Blagden, Deluc, Dalton, Gay-Lussac, and Biot.
(357.) The most striking and important of the effects of heat consist, however, in the liquefaction of solid substances, and the conversion of the liquids so produced into vapour. There is no solid substance known which, by a sufficiently intense heat, may not be melted, and finally dissipated in vapour; and this analogy is so extensive and cogent, that we cannot but suppose that all those bodies which are liquid under ordinary circumstances, owe their liquidity to heat, and would freeze or become solid if their heat could be sufficiently reduced. In many we see this to be the case in ordinary winters; for some, severe frosts are requisite; others freeze only with the most intense artificial colds; and some have hitherto resisted all our endeavours; yet the number of these last is few, and they will probably cease to be exceptions as our means of producing cold become enlarged.
(358.) A similar analogy leads us to conclude that all aëriform fluids are merely liquids kept in the state of vapour by heat. Many of them have been actually condensed into the liquid state by cold accompanied with violent pressure; and as our means of applying these causes of condensation have improved, more and more refractory ones have successively yielded. Hence we are fairly entitled to extend our conclusion to those which we have not yet been able to succeed with; and thus we are led to regard it as a general fact, that the liquid and aëriform or vaporous states are entirely dependent on heat; that were it not for this cause, there would be nothing but solids in nature; and that, on the other hand, nothing but a sufficient intensity of heat is requisite to destroy the cohesion of every substance, and reduce all bodies, first to liquids, and then into vapour.
(359.) But solids, themselves, by the abstraction of heat shrink in dimension, and at the same time become harder, and more brittle; yielding less to pressure, and permitting less separation between their parts by tension. These facts, coupled with the greater compressibility of liquids, and the still greater of gases, strongly induce us to believe that it is heat, and heat alone, which holds the particles of all bodies at that distance from each other which is necessary to allow of compression; which in fact gives them their elasticity, and acts as the antagonist force to their mutual attraction, which would otherwise draw them into actual contact, and retain them in a state of absolute immobility and impenetrability. Thus we learn to regard heat as one of the great maintaining powers of the universe, and to attach to all its laws and relations a degree of importance which may justly entitle them to the most assiduous enquiry.
(360.) It was first ascertained by Dr. Black that when heat produces the liquefaction of a solid, or the conversion of a liquid into vapour, the liquid or the vapour resulting is no hotter than the solid or liquid from which it was produced, though a great deal of heat has been expended in producing this effect, and has actually entered into the substance.
(361.) Hence he drew the conclusion that it has become latent, and continues to exist in the product, maintaining it in its new state, without increasing its temperature. He further proved, that when the vapour condenses, or the liquid freezes, this latent heat is again given out from it. This great discovery, with its natural and hardly less important concomitant, that of the difference of specific heats in different bodies, or the different quantities of heat they require to raise their temperature equally, are the chief reasons for regarding heat as a material substance in a more decided manner than light, with which in its radiant state it holds so close an analogy.
(362.) The subject of latent heat has been far less attentively studied than its great practical importance would appear to demand, when we consider that it is to this part of physical science that the theory of the steam-engine is mainly referable, and that material improvements may not unreasonably be expected in that wonderful instrument, from a more extended knowledge than we possess of the latent heats of different vapours. This is not the case, however, with the subject of specific heat, which was followed up immediately after its first promulgation with diligence by Irvine; and, after a brief interval, by Lavoisier and Laplace, as well as by our countryman Crawfurd, who determined the specific heats of many substances, both solid and liquid. After a considerable period of inactivity, the subject was again resumed by Delaroche and Berard, and subsequently by Dulong and Petit: the result of whose investigations has been the inductive establishment of one of those simple and elegant physical laws which carry with them, if not their own evidence, at least their own recommendation to our belief, as being in unison with every thing we know of the harmony of nature. The law to which we allude is this:—that the atoms of all the simple chemical elements have exactly the same capacity for heat, or are all equally heated or cooled by equal accessions or abstractions of heat. It is only among laws like this that we can expect to find a clew capable of guiding us to a knowledge of the true nature of heat, and its relations to ponderable matter.
Magnetism and Electricity.
(363.) These two subjects, which had long maintained a distinct existence, and been studied as separate branches of science, are at length effectually blended. This is, perhaps, the most satisfactory result which the experimental sciences have ever yet attained. All the phenomena of magnetic polarity, attraction, and repulsion, have at length been resolved into one general fact, that two currents of electricity, moving in the same direction repel, and in contrary directions attract, each other. The phenomena of the communication of magnetism and what is called its induced state, alone remain unaccounted for; but the interesting theory which has been developed by M. Ampere, under the name of Electro-dynamics, holds out a hope that this difficulty will also in its turn give way, and the whole subject be at length completely merged, as far as the consideration of the acting causes goes, in the more general one of electricity. This, however, does not prevent magnetism from maintaining its separate importance as a department of physical enquiry, having its own peculiar laws and relations of the highest practical interest, which are capable of being studied quite apart from all consideration of its electrical origin. And not only so, but to study them with advantage, we must proceed as if that origin were totally unknown, and, at least up to a certain point, and that a considerably advanced one, conduct our enquiries into the subject on the same inductive principles as if this branch of physics were absolutely independent of all others.
(364.) Iron, and its oxides and alloys, were for a long time the only substances considered susceptible of magnetism. The loadstone was even one of the examples produced by Bacon of that class of physical instances to which he applies the term "Instantiæ monodicæ"—singular instances. And the history of magnetism affords a beautiful comment on his remark on instances of this sort. "Nor should our enquiries," he observes, "into their nature be broken off, till the properties and qualities found in such things as may be esteemed wonders in nature are reduced and comprehended under some certain law; so that all irregularity or singularity may be found to depend upon some common form, and the wonder only rest in the exact differences, degrees, or extraordinary concurrence, and not in the species itself." The discovery of the magnetism of nickel, which though inferior to that of iron, is still considerable; that of cobalt, yet feebler, and that of titanium, which is only barely perceptible, have effectually broken down the imaginary limit between iron and the other materials of the world, and established the existence of that general law of continuity which it is one chief business of philosophy to trace throughout nature. The more recent discoveries of M. Arago (mentioned in 160.) have completed this generalization, by showing that there is no substance but which, under proper circumstances, is capable of exhibiting unequivocal signs of the magnetic virtue. And to obliterate all traces of that line of separation which was once so broad, we are now enabled, by the great discovery of Oersted, to communicate at and during pleasure to a coiled wire of any metal indifferently all the properties of a magnet;—its attraction, repulsion, and polarity; and that even in a more intense degree than was previously thought to be possible in the best natural magnets. In short, in this case, and in this case only, perhaps, in science, have we arrived at that point which Bacon seems to have understood by the discovery of "forms." "The form of any nature," says he, "is such, that where it is, the given nature must infallibly be. The form, therefore, is perpetually present when that nature is present; ascertains it universally, and accompanies it every where. Again, this form is such, that when removed, the given nature infallibly vanishes. Lastly, a true form is such as can deduce a given nature from some essential property, which resides in many things."
(365.) Magnetism is remarkable in another important point of view. It offers a prominent, or "glaring instance" of that quality in nature which is termed polarity (267.), and that under circumstances which peculiarly adapt it for the study of this quality. It does not appear that the ancients had any knowledge of this property of the magnet, though its attraction of iron was well known to them. The first mention of it in modern times cannot be traced earlier than 1180, though it was probably known to the Chinese before that time. The polarity of the magnet consists in this, that if suspended freely, one part of it will invariably direct itself towards a certain point in the horizon, the other towards the opposite point; and that, if two magnets, so suspended, be brought near each other, there will take place a mutual action, in consequence of which, the positions of both will be disturbed, in the same manner as would happen if the corresponding parts of each repelled, and those oppositely directed attracted, each other; and by properly varying the experiment, it is found that they really do so. If a small magnet, freely suspended, be brought into the neighbourhood of a larger one, it will take a position depending on the position of the poles of the larger one, with respect to its point of suspension. And it has been ascertained that these and all other phenomena exhibited by magnets in their mutual attractions and repulsions are explicable on the supposition of two forces or virtues lodged in the particles of the magnets, the one predominating at one end, the other at the other; and such that each particle shall attract those in which the opposite virtue to its own prevails, and repel those in which a similar one resides with a force proportional to the inverse square of their mutual distance.
(366.) The direction in which a magnetic bar, or needle of steel, freely suspended, places itself, has been ascertained to be different at different points of the earth's surface. In some places it points exactly north and south, in others it deviates from this direction more or less, and at some actually stands at right angles to it. This remarkable phenomenon, which is called the variation of the needle, and which was discovered by Sebastian Cabot in the year 1500, is accompanied with another called the dip, noticed by Robert Norman in 1576. It consists in a tendency of a needle, nicely balanced on its centre, when unmagnetized, to dip or point downwards when rendered magnetic, towards a point below the horizon, and situated within the earth. By tracing the variation and dip over the whole surface of the globe, it has been found that these phenomena take place as they would do if the earth itself were a great magnet, having its poles deeply situated below the surface,—and, what is very remarkable, possessing a slow motion within it, in consequence of which neither the variation nor dip remain constantly the same at the same place. The laws of this motion are at present unknown; but the discovery of electro-magnetism, by rendering it almost certain that the earth's magnetism is merely an effect of the continual circulation of great quantities of electricity round it, in a direction generally corresponding with that of its rotation, have dissipated the greater part of the mystery which hung over these phenomena; since a variety of causes, both geological and others, may be imagined which may produce considerable deviations in the intensity, and partial ones in the direction, of such electric currents. The unequal distribution of land and sea in the two hemispheres, by affecting the operation of the sun's heat in producing evaporation from the latter, which is probably one of the great sources of terrestrial electricity, may easily be conceived to modify the general tendency of such currents, and to produce irregularities in them, which may render a satisfactory account of whatever still appears anomalous in the phenomena of terrestrial magnetism. This branch of science thus becomes connected, on a great scale, with that of meteorology, one of the most complicated and difficult, but at the same time interesting, subjects of physical research; one, however, which has of late begun to be studied with a diligence which promises the speedy disclosure of relations and laws of which at present we can form but a very imperfect notion.
(367.) The communication of magnetism from the earth to a magnetic body, or from one magnetic body to another, is performed by a process to which the name of induction has been given, and the laws and properties of such induced magnetism have been studied with much perseverance and success,—practically, by Gilbert, Boyle, Knight, Whiston, Cavallo, Canton, Duhamel, Rittenhouse, Scoresby, and others; and theoretically, by Æpinus, Coulomb, and Poisson, and in our own country by Messrs. Barlow and Christie, who have investigated with great care the curious phenomena which take place when masses of iron are presented successively, in different positions, by rotation on an axis, to the influence of the earth's magnetism. The magnetism of crystallized bodies (partly from the extreme rarity of such as are susceptible of any considerable magnetic virtue) has not hitherto been at all examined, but would probably afford very curious results.
(368.) To electricity the views of the physical enquirer now turn from almost every quarter, as to one of those universal powers which Nature seems to employ in her most important and secret operations. This wonderful agent, which we see in intense activity in lightning, and in a feebler and more diffused form traversing the upper regions of the atmosphere in the northern lights, is present, probably in immense abundance, in every form of matter which surrounds us, but becomes sensible only when disturbed by excitements of peculiar kinds. The most effectual of these is friction, which we have already observed to be a powerful source of heat. Everybody is familiar with the crackling sparks which fly from a cat's back when stroked. These, by proper management, may be accumulated in bodies suitably disposed to receive them, and, although then no longer visible, give evidence of their existence by the exhibition of a vast variety of extraordinary phenomena,—producing attractions and repulsions in bodies at a distance,—admitting of being transferred by contact, or by sudden and violent transilience of the interval of separation, from one body to another, under the form of sparks and flashes;—traversing with perfect facility the substance of the densest metals, and a variety of other bodies called conductors, but being detained by others, such as glass, and especially air, which are thence called non-conductors,—producing painful shocks and convulsive motions, and even death itself if in sufficient quantity, in animals through which they pass, and finally imitating, on a small scale, all the effects of lightning.
(369.) The study of these phenomena and their laws until a comparatively recent period occupied the entire attention of electricians, and constituted the whole of the science of electricity. It appears, as the result of their enquiries, that all the phenomena in question are explicable on the supposition that electricity consists in a rare, subtle, and highly elastic fluid, which in its tendency to expand and diffuse itself pervades with more or less facility the substance of conductors, but is obstructed and detained from expansion more or less completely by non-conductors. It is supposed, moreover, that this electric fluid possesses a power of attraction for the particles of all ponderable matter, together with that of a repulsion for particles of its own kind. Whether it has weight, or is rather to be regarded as a species of matter distinct from that of which ponderable bodies consist, is a question of such delicacy, that no direct experiments have yet enabled us to decide it; but at all events its inertia compared with its elastic force must be conceived excessively small, so that it is to be regarded as a fluid in the highest degree active, obeying every impulse, internal or external, with the greatest promptitude; in short, a fluid whose energies can only be compared with those of the ethereal medium by which, in the undulatory doctrine, light is supposed to be conveyed. The properties of hydrogen gas compared with those of the denser aëriform fluids will, in some slight degree, aid our conception of the excessive mobility and penetrating activity of a fluid so constituted. Electricity, however, must be regarded as differing in some remarkable points from all those fluids to which we have hitherto been accustomed to apply the epithet elastic, such as air, gases, and vapours. In these, the repulsive force of the particles on which their elasticity depends is considered as extending only to very small distances, so as to affect only those in the immediate vicinity of each other, while their attractive power, by which they obey the general gravitation of all matter, extends to any distance. In electricity, on the other hand, the very reverse must be admitted. The force by which its particles repel each other extends to great distances, while its force of adhesion to ponderable matter must be regarded as limited in its extent to such minute intervals as escape observation.
(370.) The conception of a single fluid of this kind, which when accumulated in excess in bodies tends constantly to escape, and seek a restoration of equilibrium by communicating itself to any others where there may be a deficiency, is that which occurs most naturally to the mind, and was accordingly maintained by Franklin, to whom the science of electricity is under great obligations for those decisive experiments which informed us respecting the true nature of lightning. The same theory was afterwards advocated by Æpinus, who first showed how the laws of equilibrium of such a fluid might be reduced to strict mathematical investigation. But there are phenomena accompanying its transfer from body to body and the state of equilibrium it affects under various circumstances, which appear to require the admission of two distinct fluids antagonist to each other, each attracting the other, and repelling itself; but each, alike, susceptible of adhesion to material substances, and of transfer more or less rapid from particle to particle of them. These fluids in the natural undisturbed state are conceived to exist in a state of combination and mutual saturation; but this combination may be broken, and either of them separately accumulated in a body to any amount without the other, provided its escape be properly obstructed by surrounding it with non-conductors. When so accumulated, its repulsion for its own kind and attraction of the opposite species in neighbouring bodies tends to disturb the natural equilibrium of the two fluids present in them, and to produce phenomena of a peculiar description, which are termed induced electricity. Curious and artificial as this theory may appear, there has hitherto been produced no phenomenon of which it will not afford at least a plausible, and in by far the majority of cases a very satisfactory, explanation. It has one character which is extremely valuable in any theory, that of admitting the application of strict mathematical reasoning to the conclusions we would draw from it. Without this, indeed, it is scarcely possible that any theory should ever be fairly brought to the test by a comparison with facts. Accordingly, the mathematical theory of electrical equilibrium, and the laws of the distribution of the electric fluids over the surfaces of bodies in which they are accumulated, have been made the subject of elaborate geometrical investigation by the most expert mathematicians, and have attained a degree of extent and elegance which places this branch of science in a very high rank in the scale of mathematico-physical enquiry. These researches are grounded on the assumption of a law of attraction and repulsion similar to those of gravity and magnetism, and which by the general accordance of the results with facts, as well as by experiments instituted for the express purpose of ascertaining the laws in question, are regarded as sufficiently demonstrated.
(371.) The most obscure part of the subject is no doubt the original mode of disturbance of electrical equilibrium, by which electricity is excited in the first instance, either by friction or by any other of those causes which have been ascertained to produce such an effect: analogies, it is true, are not wanting[2]; but it must be allowed that hitherto nothing decisive has been offered on the subject; and that conjectural modes of action have in this instance too often usurped the place of those to which a careful examination of facts alone can lead us.
(372.) Philosophers had long been familiar with the effects of electricity above referred to, and with those which it produces in its sudden and violent transfer from one body to another, in rending and shattering the parts of the substances through which it passes, and where in great quantity, producing all the effect of intense heat, igniting, fusing, and volatilizing metals, and setting fire to inflammable bodies; even its occasional influence, in destroying or altering the polarity of the magnetic needle had been noticed: but as heat was known to be produced by mechanical violence, and as magnetism was also known to be greatly affected by the same cause, these effects were referred rather to that cause than to any thing in the peculiar nature of the electric matter, and regarded rather as an indirect consequence of its mode of action than as connected with its intimate nature. In short, electricity seemed destined to furnish another in addition to many instances of subjects insulated from the rest of philosophy, and capable of being studied only in its own internal relations, when the great discoveries of Galvani and Volta placed a new power at the command of the experimenter, by whose means those effects which had before been crowded within an inappreciable instant could be developed in detail and studied at leisure; and those forces which had previously exhibited themselves only in a state of uncontrollable intensity were tamed down, as it were, and made to distribute their efficacy over an indefinite time, and to regulate their action at the will of the operator. It was then soon ascertained that electricity in the act of its passage along conductors, produces a variety of wonderful effects, which had never been previously suspected; and these of such a nature, as to afford points of contact with several other branches of physical enquiry, and to throw new and unexpected lights on some of the most obscure operations of nature.
(373.) The history of this grand discovery affords a fine illustration of the advantage to be derived in physical enquiry from a close and careful attention to any phenomenon, however apparently trifling, which may at the moment of observation appear inexplicable on received principles. The convulsive motions of a dead frog in the neighbourhood of an electric discharge, which originally drew Galvani's attention to the subject, had been noticed by others nearly a century before his time, but attracted no further remark than as indicating a peculiar sensibility to electrical excitement depending on that remnant of vitality which is not extinguished in the organic frame of an animal by the deprivation of actual life. Galvani was not so satisfied. He analysed the phenomenon; and in investigating all the circumstances connected with it was led to the observation of a peculiar electrical excitement which took place when a circuit was formed of three distinct parts, a muscle, a nerve, and a metallic conductor, each placed in contact with the other two, and which was manifested by a convulsive motion produced in the muscle. To this phenomenon he gave the name of animal electricity, an unfortunate epithet, since it tended to restrict enquiry into its nature to the class of phenomena in which it first became apparent. But this circumstance, which in a less enquiring age of science might have exercised a fatal influence on the progress of knowledge, proved happily no obstacle to the further developement of its principles, the subject being immediately taken up with a kind of prophetic ardour by Volta, who at once generalized the phenomena, rejecting the physiological considerations introduced by Galvani, as foreign to the enquiry, and regarding the contraction of the muscles as merely a delicate means of detecting the production of electrical excitements too feeble to be rendered sensible by any other means. It was thus that he arrived at the knowledge of a general fact, that of the disturbance of electrical equilibrium by the mere contact of different bodies, and the circulation of a current of electricity in one constant direction, through a circuit composed of three different conductors. To increase the intensity of the very minute and delicate effect thus observed became his next aim, nor did his enquiry terminate till it had placed him in possession of that most wonderful of all human inventions, the pile which bears his name, through the medium of a series of well conducted and logically combined experiments, which has rarely, if ever, been surpassed in the annals of physical research.
(374.) Though the original pile of Volta was feeble compared to those gigantic combinations which were afterwards produced, it sufficed, however, to exhibit electricity under a very different aspect from any thing which had gone before, and to bring into view those peculiar modifications in its action which Dr. Wollaston was the first to render a satisfactory account of, by referring them to an increase of quantity, accompanied with a diminution of intensity in the supply afforded. The discovery had not long been made public, and the instrument in the hands of chemists and electricians, before it was ascertained that the electric current, transmitted by it through conducting liquids, produces in them chemical decompositions. This capital discovery appears to have been made, in the first instance, by Messrs. Nicholson and Carlisle, who observed the decomposition of water so produced. It was speedily followed up by the still more important one of Berzelius and Hisinger, who ascertained it as a general law, that, in all the decompositions so effected, the acids and oxygen become transferred to, and accumulated around, the positive,—and hydrogen, metals, and alkalies round the negative, pole of a Voltaic circuit; being transferred in an invisible, and, as it were, a latent or torpid state, by the action of the electric current, through considerable spaces, and even through large quantities of water or other liquids, again to re-appear with all their properties at their appropriate resting-places.
(375.) It was in this state of things that the subject was taken up by Davy, who, seeing that the strongest chemical affinities were thus readily subverted by the decomposing action of the pile, conceived the happy idea of bringing to bear the intense power of the enormous batteries of the Royal Institution on those substances which, though strongly suspected to be compounds, had resisted all attempts to decompose them—the alkalies and earths. They yielded to the force applied, and a total revolution was thus effected in chemistry; not so much by the introduction of the new elements thus brought to light, as by the mode of conceiving the nature of chemical affinity, which from that time has been regarded (as Davy broadly laid it down, in a theory which was readily adopted by the most eminent chemists, and by none more readily than by Berzelius himself,) as entirely due to electric attractions and repulsions, those bodies combining most intimately whose particles are habitually in a state of the most powerful electrical antagonism, and dispossessing each other, according to the amount of their difference in this respect.
(376.) The connection of magnetism and electricity had long been suspected, and innumerable fruitless trials had been made to determine, in the affirmative or negative, the question of such connection. The phenomena of many crystallized minerals which become electric by heat, and develope opposite electric poles at their two extremities, offered an analogy so striking to the polarity of the magnet, that it seemed hardly possible to doubt a closer connection of the two powers. The developement of a similar polarity in the Voltaic pile pointed strongly to the same conclusion; and experiments had even been made with a view to ascertain whether a pile in a state of excitement might not manifest a disposition to place itself in the magnetic meridian; but the essential condition had been omitted, that of allowing the pile to discharge itself freely, a condition which assuredly never would have occurred of itself to any experimenter. Of all the philosophers who had speculated on this subject, none had so pertinaciously adhered to the idea of a necessary connection between the phenomena as Oersted. Baffled often, he returned to the attack; and his perseverance was at length rewarded by the complete disclosure of the wonderful phenomena of electro-magnetism. There is something in this which reminds us of the obstinate adherence of Columbus to his notion of the necessary existence of the New World; and the whole history of this beautiful discovery may serve to teach us reliance on those general analogies and parallels between great branches of science by which one strongly reminds us of another, though no direct connection appears; as an indication not to be neglected of a community of origin.
(377.) It is highly probable that we are still ignorant of many interesting features in electrical science, which the study of the Voltaic circuit will one day disclose. The violent mechanical effects produced by it on mercury, placed under conducting liquids which have been referred by Professor Erman to a modified form of capillary attraction, but which a careful and extended view of the phenomena have led others[3] to regard in a very different light, as pointing out a primary action of a dynamical rather than a statical character, deserve, in this point of view, a further investigation; and the curious relations of electricity to heat, as exhibited in the phenomena of what has been called thermo-electricity, promise an ample supply of new information.
(378.) Among the remarkable effects of electricity disclosed by the researches of Galvani and Volta, perhaps the most so consisted in its influence on the nervous system of animals. The origin of muscular motion is one of those profound mysteries of nature which we can scarcely venture to hope will ever be fully explained. Physiologists, however, had long entertained a general conception of the conveyance of some subtle fluid or spirit from the brain to the muscles of animals along the nerves; and the discovery of the rapid transmission of electricity along conductors, with the violent effects produced by shocks, transmitted through the body, on the nervous system, would very naturally lead to the idea that this nervous fluid, if it had any real existence, might be no other than the electrical. But until the discoveries of Galvani and Volta, this could only be looked upon as a vague conjecture. The character of a vera causa was wanting to give it any degree of rational plausibility, since no reason could be imagined for the disturbance of the electrical equilibrium in the animal frame, composed as it is entirely of conductors, or rather, it seemed contrary to the then known laws of electrical communication to suppose any such. Yet one strange and surprising phenomenon might be adduced indicative of the possibility of such disturbance, viz. the powerful shock given by the torpedo and other fishes of the same kind, which presented so many analogies with those arising from electricity, that they could hardly be referred to a different source, though besides the shock neither spark nor any other indication of electrical tension could be detected in them.
(379.) The benumbing effect of the torpedo had been ascertained to depend on certain singularly constructed organs composed of membranous columns, filled from end to end with laminæ, separated from each other by a fluid: but of its mode of action no satisfactory account could be given; nor was there any thing in its construction, and still less in the nature of its materials, to give the least ground for supposing it an electrical apparatus. But the pile of Volta supplied at once the analogies both of structure and of effect, so as to leave little doubt of the electrical nature of the apparatus, or of the power, a most wonderful one certainly, of the animal, to determine, by an effort of its will, that concurrence of conditions on which its activity depends. This remained, as it probably ever will remain, mysterious and inexplicable; but the principle once established, that there exists in the animal economy a power of determining the developement of electric excitement, capable of being transmitted along the nerves, and it being ascertained, by numerous and decisive experiments, that the transmission of Voltaic electricity along the nerves of even a dead animal is sufficient to produce the most violent muscular action, it became an easy step to refer the origin of muscular motion in the living frame to a similar cause; and to look to the brain, a wonderfully constituted organ, for which no mode of action possessing the least plausibility had ever been devised, as the source of the required electrical power.[4]
(380.) It is not our intention, however, to enter into any further consideration of physiological subjects. They form, it is true, a most important and deeply interesting province of philosophical enquiry; but the view that we have taken of physical science has rather been directed to the study of inanimate nature, than to that of the mysterious phenomena of organization and life, which constitute the object of physiology. The history of the animal and vegetable productions of the globe, as affording objects and materials for the convenience and use of man, and as dependent on and indicative of the general laws which determine the distribution of heat, moisture, and other natural agents, over its surface, and the revolutions it has undergone, are of course intimately connected with our subject, and will, therefore, naturally afford room for some remarks, but not such as will long detain the reader's attention.
(381.) In zoology, the connection of peculiar modes of life and food, with peculiarities of structure, has given rise to systems of classification at once obvious and natural; and the great progress which has been made in comparative anatomy has enabled us to trace a graduated scale of organization almost through the whole chain of animal being; a scale not without its intervals, but which every successive discovery of animals heretofore unknown has tended to fill up. The wonders disclosed by microscopic observation have opened to us a new world, in which we discover, with astonishment, the extremes of minuteness and complexity of structure united; while, on the other hand, the examination of the fossil remains of a former state of creation has demonstrated the existence of animals far surpassing in magnitude those now living, and brought to light many forms of being which have nothing analogous to them at present, and many others which afford important connecting links between existing genera. And, on the other hand, the researches of the comparative anatomist and conchologist have thrown the greatest light on the studies of the geologist, and enabled him to discern, through the obscure medium of a few relics, scattered here and there through a stratum, circumstances connected with the formation of the stratum itself which he could have recognised by no other indication. This is one among many striking instances of the unexpected lights which sciences, however apparently remote, may throw upon each other.
(382.) To botany many of the same remarks apply. Its artificial systems of classification, however convenient, have not prevented botanists from endeavouring to group together the objects of their science in natural classes having a community of character more intimate than those which determine their place in the Linnean or any similar system; a community of character extending over the whole habit and properties of the individuals compared. The important chemical discoveries which have been lately made of peculiar proximate principles which, in an especial manner, characterize certain families of plants, hold out the prospect of a greatly increased field of interesting knowledge in this direction, and not only interesting, but in a high degree important, when it is considered that the principles thus brought into view are, for the most part, very powerful medicines, and are, in fact, the essential ingredients on which the medical virtues of the plants depend. The law of the distribution of the generic forms of plants over the globe, too, has, within a comparatively recent period, become an object of study to the naturalist; and its connection with the laws of climate constitutes one of the most interesting and important branches of natural-historical enquiry, and one on which great light remains to be thrown by future researches. It is this which constitutes the chief connecting link between botany and geology, and renders a knowledge of the vegetable fossils, of any portion of the earth's surface, indispensable to the formation of a correct judgment of the circumstances under which it existed in its ancient state. Fossil botany is accordingly cultivated with great and increasing ardour; and the subterraneous "Flora" of a geological formation is, in many instances, studied with a degree of care and precision little inferior to that which its surface exhibits.
- ↑ Novum Organum, part ii. table 2. (24), (30), &c. on the form or nature of heat.
- ↑ We will mention one which we do not remember to have seen noticed elsewhere in the case of a disturbance of the equilibrium of heat produced by means purely mechanical, and by a process depending entirely on a certain order and sequence of events, and the operation of known causes. Suppose a quantity of air enclosed in a metallic reservoir, of some good conductor of heat, and suddenly compressed by a piston. After giving time for the heat developed by the condensation to be communicated from the air to the metal which will be thereby more or less raised in temperature above the surrounding atmosphere, let the piston be suddenly retracted and the air restored to its original volume in an instant. The whole apparatus is now precisely in its initial situation, as to the disposition of its material parts, and the whole quantity of heat it contains remains unchanged. But it is evident that the distribution of this heat within it is now very different from what it was before; for the air in its sudden expansion cannot re-absorb in an instant of time all the heat it had parted with to the metal: it will, therefore, have a temperature below that of the general atmosphere, while the metal yet retains one above it. Thus, a subversion of the equilibrium of temperature has been bonâ fide effected. Heat has been driven from the air into the metal, while every thing else remains unchanged.
We have here a means by which, it is evident, heat may be obtained, to any extent, from the air, without fuel. For if, in place of withdrawing the piston and letting the same air expand, within the reservoir, it be allowed to escape so suddenly as not to re-absorb the heat given off, and fresh air be then admitted and the process repeated, any quantity of air may thus be drained of its heat.
- ↑ See Phil. Trans. 1824.
- ↑ If the brain be an electric pile, constantly in action, it may be conceived to discharge itself at regular intervals, when the tension of the electricity developed reaches a certain point, along the nerves which communicate with the heart, and thus to excite the pulsations of that organ. This idea is forcibly suggested by a view of that elegant apparatus, the dry pile of Deluc; in which the successive accumulations of electricity are carried off by a suspended ball, which is kept by the discharges in a state of regular pulsation for any length of time. We have witnessed the action of such a pile maintained in this way for whole years in the study of the above-named eminent philosopher. The same idea of the cause of the pulsation of the heart appears to have occurred to Dr. Arnott; and is mentioned in his useful and excellent work on physics, to which however, we are not indebted for the suggestion, it having occurred to us independently many years ago.