Part 54

This brief account of the spectroscope and its revelations, which is all that our space permits us to give, will not fail to awaken new thoughts in the mind of a reader who has obtained even a glimpse of the nature of the subject, especially in relation to that branch of which we have last treated, for in every age and in every region the stars have attracted the gaze and excited the imagination of men. The belief in their influence over human affairs was profound, universal, and enduring; for it survived the dawn of rising science, being among the last shades of the long night of superstition which melted away in the morning of true knowledge. Even Francis Bacon, the father of the inductive philosophy, and old Sir Thomas Browne, the exposer of “Vulgar Errors,” believed in the influences of the stars; for while recognizing the impostures practised by its professors, they still regarded astrology as a science not altogether vain. It was reserved for the mighty genius of Newton to prove that in very truth there are invisible ties connecting our earth with those remote and brilliant bodies—ties more potent than ever astrology divined; for he showed that even the most distant orb is bound to its companions and to our planet by the same power that draws the projected stone to the ground. And now the spectroscope is revealing other lines of connection, and showing that not gravitation alone is the sympathetic bond which unites our globe to the celestial orbs, but that there exists the closer tie of a common constitution, for they are all made of the same matter, obeying the same physical and chemical laws which belong to it on the earth. We learn that hydrogen, and magnesium, and iron, and other familiar substances, exist in these inconceivably distant suns, and there exhibit the identical properties which characterize them here. We confirm, by the spectroscope, the fact partially revealed by other lines of research, that the stars which appear so fixed, are, in reality, careering through space, each with its proper motion. We learn also that the stars are the theatres of vast chemical and physical changes and transformations, the rapidity and extent of which we can hardly conceive. There is, for example, the case of that wonderful star in the constellation of the Crown, which, in 1866, suddenly blazed out, from a scarcely discernible telescopic star, to become one of the most conspicuous in the heavens, and the bright lines its beams produced in the spectroscope revealed the fact that this abrupt splendour was due to masses—who can imagine how vast?—of incandescent hydrogen. This brightness soon waned, and τ _Coronæ Borealis_ reverted once more to all but telescopic invisibility. The seeming fixity of the stars is an illusion of the same nature as that which prevents a casual observer from recognizing their apparent diurnal motion, and now we have also ample evidence that permanence of physical condition, even in the stars, is impossible. Everywhere in the universe there is motion and change; there is no pause, no rest, but a continual unfolding, an endless progression.

“Know the stars yonder, The stars everlasting, Are fugitive also, And emulate, vaulted, The lambent heat-lightning And fire-fly’s flight.”

ROENTGEN’S X RAYS.

On page 507 reference will be made to certain remarkable effects observed by Mr. Crookes when the electric discharges from an induction coil are passed through very highly exhausted tubes. These phosphorescent and mechanical effects Mr. Crookes attributed to streams of “radiant matter” shot off from the _negative_ pole with immense velocities—the matter not being that of the electrode itself, but particles of the extremely rarefied residual gas, which, being comparatively few, could mostly traverse the tube in straight lines without coming into collision with their fellows, and thus a class of phenomena, different from the striated discharges in the ordinary and less highly exhausted Geissler tubes, comes into view. The emanations from the negative pole, or _cathode_, in highly rarefied gases became known as the “cathode rays,” and they began to be further examined by other observers, and more particularly in 1894 by Hittorf, and by M. Lenard, a Hungarian physicist, who found that they pass through thin plates of metal, and through wood and other substances not transparent to ordinary light. It was also observed by Lenard, and also previously by Hertz, that there are several kinds of cathode rays, which differ from each other as regards their powers of exciting phosphorescence, capability of being deflected by a magnet, and the degrees in which they are absorbed by various media. But universal attention was drawn to this subject by the announcement, at the end of 1895, of certain discoveries made by Dr. W. K. Roentgen, a professor of physics at Wurzburg. He covered a highly-exhausted Crookes’ tube with black cardboard, and found that when the discharge of a large induction coil was passed through the tube in a dark room, a piece of paper coated on one side with platino-cyanide of barium, and held near the covered tube, glowed with a brilliant fluorescence, no matter which side of the paper was turned towards the tube; and even at a distance of two yards some fluorescence was still visible. On experimenting with various bodies interposed between the covered tube and the fluorescent screen, it was found that the emanations passed through nearly every substance with more or less facility. The screen lit up when placed behind a book of a thousand pages, also behind two packs of cards. A single layer of tin-foil scarcely threw a shadow, and several thicknesses were required to produce a distinct effect. Deal boards, an inch thick, offered little resistance. A very thick plate of aluminium (6/10 inch) reduced the fluorescence, but still allowed some rays to pass. The hand held before the fluorescent screen showed a dark shadow of the bones only, with but a faint outline of their fleshy investment. Copper, silver, gold, platinum, and lead, in comparatively small thicknesses, intercept these rays. Thus a plate of lead only five hundredths of an inch thick almost stops them. Increase of thickness increases the resistance to their passage in all cases; but the comparative transparency of a body cannot be deduced from its thickness and density. Many other bodies besides platino-cyanide of barium become fluorescent under the influence of these rays, such as certain kinds of glass, Iceland spar, rock-salt, etc. Dr. Roentgen is convinced that these rays are not the cathode rays or any part of them; but as the theoretical nature of the new rays has not yet been explained, he has preferred to provisionally call them the X rays, a denomination doubtless suggested by the use of the symbol _x_ in algebra to represent unknown quantities.

The source of the X rays, Roentgen states, is at the place where the cathode rays strike the walls of the exhausted tube, and produce the most brilliant phosphorescence; but they cannot be cathode rays which have merely passed through the glass, for, contrary to what has been observed with respect to the latter, they cannot be deflected by a magnet. Nor is glass the only substance in which they can be generated, for they were obtained from an apparatus in which the cathode rays were made to impinge upon a plate of aluminium nearly one-tenth of an inch thick. Photographic dry plates are also sensitive to the X rays, and their power to pass through wood, ebonite, etc., makes the experiments of testing the opacity, or otherwise, of various objects for them quite easy. It is necessary merely to place the object on the closed cover of the dark slide, and place the whole under the vacuum tube; all the exposure, which is somewhat prolonged in most cases, may be made in ordinary light. But the light-tight boxes, in which photographic plates are packed, cannot, of course, be brought near the apparatus, as they are completely permeable to the X rays, and their whole contents may be rendered useless. The impression obtained on the photographic plate is not so much a photograph as a _shadow_ of the interposed object—a shadow more or less dense in the positive print according to the permeability of the object, and the length of the exposure. These photographic results have sometimes been called “shadowgrams,” “radiograms,” “radiographs,” “skiagraphs,” etc. The word _skiagraph_ appears the most appropriate designation. That the emanations from the phosphorescing substance on which the cathode rays impinge are entitled to be also called rays, appears from the regularity of the shadows thrown on the fluorescent screen or photographic plate; and the fact of their propagation in straight lines was proved by Dr. Roentgen obtaining a _pin-hole_ photograph of the phosphorescing part of the vacuum tube, when the latter was enveloped in black paper. Why a _pin-hole_ and not a lens was used for taking this photograph will presently appear.

One of Dr. Roentgen’s experiments excited the attention and interest of the general public, as well as of the scientific world, in the most extraordinary degree, and though its announcement was received in some quarters with incredulity, experimenters in all parts of the world immediately set themselves at work to test the truth of the alleged discovery. Electrical apparatus of different kinds, with various adjustments, were employed, with results that were in some cases failures, in others confirmations of the German professor’s statements, and not unfrequently the variations in the conditions gave rise to increased knowledge of the phenomena generally. The experiment just alluded was one in which a dry photographic plate contained in one of the camera dark slides, now so familiar to every one, was placed (with the slide still closed by its wooden cover of nearly one quarter of an inch thick) a few inches below the Crookes’ tube, and the hand of a living-person being extended on the outside of the cover, a shadow of the bones of the hand, as if seen through the surrounding tissues, was obtained. Much popular misconception as to the powers of the “new photography” arose from want of knowledge of the process by which these strange pictures were obtained, the common notion being that these photographs were produced by some method of using a camera, and that outlines of people’s bodies and skeletons could be taken instantaneously, not only through their clothes, but through doors and walls. Much nearer the mark was the allusion of a scientific writer as to the possibility of the new process realising Dickens’ description of Marley’s ghost: “His body was transparent, so that Scrooge, observing him, and looking through his waistcoat, could see the two buttons on his coat behind.” The value of the new discovery for medical and surgical purposes was immediately recognised, and very soon its application was successfully practised.

Dr. Roentgen found that the X rays are incapable of refraction, in this respect differing from ordinary light (see pages 397 and following), and among the experiments which most impressed and astonished his auditors when he was lecturing at Potsdam on his new discovery before the Imperial Court of Germany, was one in which he showed the X rays passing in a straight line through water without undergoing refraction. The rays pass without interruption equally through the substances, whether these be coherent or in a layer of fine powder of the same thickness, and this again shows that there can be no regular reflection or refraction. Prisms and lenses, whether of glass, ebonite, or aluminium, fail to afford evidence of refractive action, hence the X rays cannot be focused like those of ordinary light, and that is why the photograph of the vacuum tube had to be taken by a pin-hole. Again, glass lenses could not be used, because this substance, so transparent to light, is particularly opaque to the X rays, and would in a great degree intercept them, while lenses of ebonite and of aluminium, which were tried, were inoperative on account of the irrefrangibility of the rays.

As to the nature of the rays themselves, Dr. Roentgen rejects the notion of their being “ultra-violet” rays, which was suggested by some. The meaning of this term is seen when it is understood that a great distance beyond the violet end of the visible spectrum there are radiations, revealed by their photographic impressions, so that the whole spectrum is really some eight times as long as the visible part. In consequence of these ultra-violet rays acting on the photographic plate, it is possible, as has long been known, to take a photograph in the dark. The eye is quite insensible to the X rays also, and although these, as we have seen, readily pass through the bodily tissues, it may be placed quite near the discharge tube, the latter being enveloped in black paper, without causing any sensation. That the new rays are in some way allied to light is the opinion held by Dr. Roentgen, and he is inclined to consider them as due to _longitudinal_ vibrations in the ether; that is, instead of the transverse waves to which light is attributed, these resemble the waves of sound, in so far that they move in the direction of propagation. This would account for the absence of any distinct refraction, or polarisation, which seems to characterise the X rays. Their connection with certain electric Maxwell-Hertz waves (see p. 541) is more problematical, as the mathematical formulæ for these admit only transverse oscillation. But on the assumption of certain conditions, due to the action of electricity, etc., on highly rarefied air, the possible existence of longitudinal vibrations has been deduced by admitting a certain variation in some of the factors of the Maxwell formulæ.

Other suggestions have been advanced in order to make the observed facts concerning the X rays fit into established theories, but so far these attempts have been unsuccessful. It would seem as if our present conceptions of light, electricity, the ether and matter, will have to be profoundly modified and enlarged in order to bring these and other recently discovered phenomena within their scope. Since the publication of Dr. Roentgen’s paper, his results have received confirmation in every quarter, and many new observations have been added, some of which seem to tend not so much to elucidate the phenomena, as to prove them even more complicated than was at first supposed. Such was the announcement in June, 1896, of the discovery of several varieties of X rays.

In the meantime, various modifications have been made in the forms of the tubes and electrodes, and divers arrangements have been used for the exciting electrical apparatus. Thus it has been found that the X rays are given off from platinum more copiously than from glass, aluminium, or any other substance, and by using a tube closed by a “platinum window,” on which the cathode rays impinge, Mr. Gifford has been able to reduce the time of exposure for obtaining a skiagraph of the bones on the hand to half a minute, whereas twenty times that period was formerly required. Another form of tube is advertised by Brady & Martin of Newcastle, with which, in conjunction with a new screen, a coil giving a 5–inch spark will, it is stated, yield a good skiagraph of the hand in _two seconds_, which appears to be the shortest time yet attained. Another firm of tube-makers, Newton & Co., London, state that their special form of tube, excited by a coil giving a 6–inch spark, and used with their fluorescent screen, “will work right through the human body, showing the heart, liver, spine, ribs, the movements of the heart and of the diaphragm, etc.” It has recently been observed that the best results are obtained when there is a certain, but as yet undefined, relation between the degree of rarefaction of the residual gas in the tube, and the intensity or frequency of the electric discharges, and that these should be accommodated to the work required. Thus, for example, if a skiagraph of the hand be attempted with an apparatus in which these factors are carried to too high a degree, the resulting X rays will pass through the bones almost as freely as through the surrounding tissues, and their shadows will therefore not appear. If, on the other hand, the contrary conditions hold, an incomplete or maybe no result will be found. This seems to explain the failures that have sometimes occurred when tubes of apparently identical construction have been used in the hands of the same, or of different, observers. Perhaps more depends also on the time of exposure. For instance, if a short exposure be given in the case of the hand, the photograph will be merely a silhouette of that member; with a little longer exposure, this will show the nails; with still longer time, the shadow of the fleshy parts begins to grow faint and the skeleton to appear. With yet more prolonged exposure only the bones will show, in their various degrees of opacity, and the shadows of these will gradually disappear as the time of exposure is increased, until at length the image will be entirely effaced. The considerable differences as to distinctness of the various tissues, which are exhibited by the published prints of hand shadows, are thus explicable.

SIGHT.

The investigations of modern science have borne rich fruit, not only by vastly extending our knowledge of the universe of things around us, but also making us acquainted with the mode in which certain agents act upon our bodily organs, and by revealing, up to a certain point, what may be termed the mechanism of that most wonderful thing—the human mind—or, at least, that part which is immediately concerned in the perceptions of an external world. Of all the physical influences which affect the human mind, those due to light are the most powerful and the most agreeable. One of the most ancient of philosophers says, in the simple words which are appropriate to the expression of an undeniable truth, “Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.” The impression produced by light alone is a source of pleasure—a cheering influence of the highest order; and there is a special character in the pleasing effects of light, from the circumstance that they do not exhaust the sense so quickly as do even pleasurable impressions on other organs—such as sweet tastes, fragrant odours, or agreeable sounds. Sight is not liable to that satiety which soon overtakes the enjoyment of sensations arising from the other senses; it possesses, therefore, a refinement of quality of which the rest are devoid. Sight converses with its objects at a greater distance than does any other sense, and it furnishes our minds with a greater variety of ideas. Indeed, our mental imagery is most largely made up of reminiscences of visual impressions; for when the idea of anything is brought up in our minds by a word, for example, there arises, in most cases, a more or less vivid presentation of some visible appearance. Our visual impressions are also longer retained in memory or idea than any other class of sensations.

The nature of the impressions we receive through the eye is extremely varied; for we thus perceive not only the difference between light and darkness, but in the sensations of colour we have quite another class of effects, while the lustre and sparkle of polished and brilliant objects add new elements of beauty and variety. We find examples of the latter qualities in the verdant sheen of the smooth leaf, in the splendid reflections of burnished gold, in the bright radiance of glittering gems, and “in gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls.” The eye is also the organ which conveys to our minds the impressions of visible motion, with all those pleasures of exciting spectacle which enter so largely into our enjoyment of life. It likewise discriminates the forms, sizes, and distances of objects; but by a process long misunderstood, and dependent upon a set of perceptions which, although precisely those whence we derive our most fundamental notions of the objects around us, have been completely overlooked in that time-honoured enumeration of the senses which recognizes only five.

If such be the extent to which our minds are dependent upon the wonderful apparatus of the eye, it may easily be imagined what must be the comparative narrowness of mental development in those who have never enjoyed this precious sense, and the feeling of deprivation in those, who, having enjoyed it, have unfortunately lost it. Well may our sublime poet despairingly ask—

“Since light so necessary is to life, And almost life itself—if it be true That light is in the soul— The all in every part: why was the sight To such a tender ball as the eye confined, So obvious and so easy to be quenched?”

—for he himself, in his own person, experienced this deprivation, and he thus touchingly, in his great work, laments his loss:

“Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer’s rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surround me; from the cheerful ways of men Cut off; and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature’s works—to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.”

An organ which is the instrument of so many nice discriminations as is the eye must, of course, present the most delicate adjustment in its parts. So much has in recent times been learnt of the nature of its mechanism; of the relation between the impressions made upon it and the judgments formed by the mind therefrom; of the illusions which its very structure produces; of the defects to which it is liable; and of its wonderfully refined physiological elements—that a branch of science sufficiently extensive to require a large part of a studious lifetime for its complete mastery has grown up under the hands of modern physiologists, physicists, and psychologists. To some of the results of their labour we would invite the reader’s attention; and in order to render the account of them intelligible, we must, to a certain extent, describe “things new and old.”

_THE EYE._