Part 6
If we do this there is no difficulty in finding the ultimate reaction fulcrum of the radiometer vanes. It is simply the radiating body, the match, the candle, the lamp, the sun, or whatever else may be the source of the impelling radiations. According to this view, the radiant source must be repelled with precisely the same energy as the arms or pendulum of the radiometer; and it would move backward or in opposite direction if equally free to move. If, by any means, we cause the glass envelope of the radiometer to become the radiant source, it should be repelled, and may even rotate in opposite direction to the vanes, or _vice versâ_. This has been done with floating radiometers.
Viewed thus as simple matter of fact, irrespective of any preconceived kinetics of intervening media, the net result of Mr. Crookes’s researches become nothing less than the discovery of a new law of nature of great magnitude and the broadest possible generality, viz., that the sun and all other radiant bodies—_i.e._, all the materials of the universe—exert a mechanical repulsive force, in addition to the calorific, luminous, actinic, and electrical forces with which they have hitherto been credited. He has shown that this force is refrangible and dispersible, that it is outspread with the spectrum, but is most concentrated, or active, in the region of the ultra-red rays, and progressively feeblest in the violet; or, otherwise stated, it exists in closer companionship with heat than with light, and closer with light than with actinism.
According to the doctrine of exchanges, which has now passed from the domain of theory to that of demonstrated law, all bodies, whatever be their temperature, are perpetually radiating heat-force, the amount of which varies, _cæteris paribus_, with their temperature. If we now add to this generalization that all bodies are similarly radiating mechanical force and suffering corresponding mechanical reaction, the theoretical difficulties of the radiometer vanish. What must follow in the case of a freely suspended body unequally heated on opposite sides?
It must be repelled in a direction perpendicular to the surface of its hottest side. If two rockets were affixed to opposite sides of a pendant body, and were to exert unequal ejective forces, the reaction of the stronger rocket would repel the body in the opposite direction to its preponderating ejection. This represents the radiometer vane with one side blackened and the other side bright. When exposed to luminous rays the black side becomes warmer than the bright side by its active absorption and conversion of light into heat, and thus the blackened face radiates in excess and recedes.
We may regard it thus as acting by its own radiations, or otherwise as acted upon by the more powerful radiant whose rays are differentially received by the black and bright sides. These different modes of regarding the action are perfectly consistent with each other, and analogous to the two different modes of regarding gravitation, when we describe the sun as attracting the earth, or, otherwise, the earth as gravitating to the sun. Strictly speaking, neither of these descriptions is correct, as the gravitation is mutual, and the total quantity exerted between the sun and the earth is equal to the sum of their energies, but it is sometimes convenient to regard the action from a solar standpoint, and at others from a terrestrial. So with the radiometer and the strictly mutual repulsions between it and the predominating radiant.
It appears to me that this unsophisticated conception of radiant mechanical repulsive force, and its necessary mechanical reaction on the radiant body, meets all the facts at present revealed by the experiments of Mr. Crookes and others.
The attraction which occurs when the disc of the radiometer is surrounded with a considerable quantity of atmospheric matter is probably due to inequality of atmospheric pressure. The absorbing face of the disc becomes heated above the temperature of the opposite face, the film of air in contact with the warmer face rises, leaving a relatively vacuous space in front. This produces a rush of air from back to front which carries the radiometer vane with it. When the exhaustion of the radiometer is carried so far that the residual air is only just sufficiently dense to neutralize the direct repulsion of radiation, the neutral point is reached. When exhaustion is carried beyond this, repulsion predominates.
Taking Mr. Crookes’s estimate of the mechanical energy of solar radiation at 32 grains per square foot, 2 cwts. per acre, 57 tons per square mile, etc., and accepting these as they are offered, _i.e._, merely as provisional and approximate estimates, we are led to a cosmical inference of the highest importance, one that must materially modify our interpretations of some of the grandest phenomena of the universe. Although the estimated sunlight pressure upon the earth, the three thousand millions of tons, is too small a fraction of the earth’s total weight to effect an easily measurable increase of the length of our year, the case is quite otherwise with the asteroids and the zones of meteoric matter revolving around the sun.
The mechanical repulsion of radiation is a superficial action, and must, therefore, vary with the amount of surface exposed, while that of gravitation varies with the mass. Thus the ratio of radiant repulsion to the attraction of gravitation goes on increasing with the subdivison of masses, and becomes an important fraction in the case of the smaller bodies of the solar system. A zone of meteorites traveling around the sun would be broken up, sifted, and sorted into different orbits, according to their diameters, if this superficial repulsion operated against gravitation without any compensating agency. Gravitation would be opposed in various degrees, neutralized, and, in the case of cosmic dust, even reversed. Comets presenting so large a surface in proportion to their mass would either be driven away altogether or forced to move in orbits utterly disobedient to present calculations. This would occur if the inter-planetary spaces were as nearly vacuous as the torsion instrument with which Mr. Crookes made his measurements.
Regarding the properties of our atmosphere only in the light of experimental data, irrespective of imaginary molecules, and their supposed gyrations or oscillations, we see at once that an inter-planetary or inter-stellar vacuum must act like a Sprengel pump upon our atmosphere, upon the atmosphere of other planets, and upon those of the sun and the stars, and would continue such action until an equilibrium between the repulsive energy of the gas and the gravitation of the solid orbs had been established. Atmospheric matter would thus be universally diffused, with special accumulations around solid orbs, varying in quantity with their respective gravitating energy. Such a universal atmosphere would accelerate orbital motion, and this acceleration would vary with the surface of bodies. Its action being thus exactly opposed to that of radiant repulsion, it must, at a certain density, exactly neutralize it. That it does this is evident from the obedience of all the elements of the solar system to the calculated action of gravitation; and thus Mr. Crookes’s researches not only confirm the idea of universal atmospheric diffusion, but they afford a means by which we may ultimately measure the actual density of the universal atmosphere. If, as I have endeavored to show in my essay on “The Fuel of the Sun,” the initial radiant energy of every star depends upon its mass, and its consequent condensation of atmospheric matter, the density of inter-planetary atmosphere sufficient to neutralize the radiant mechanical energy of our sun may be the same as is demanded to perform the same function for all the stars of the universe, and all their attendant worlds, comets, and meteors.
In order to prevent misunderstanding of the above, I must add that I have therein studiously assumed a negative position in reference to all hypothetical conceptions of the nature of heat, light, etc., and their modes of transmission, simply because I feel satisfied that the subject has hitherto been obscured and complicated by overstrained efforts to fit the phenomena to the excessively definite hypotheses of modern molecular mathematicians. The atoms invented by Dalton for the purpose of explaining the demonstrated laws of chemical combination performed this function admirably, and had great educational value, so long as their purely imaginary origin was kept in view; but when such atoms are treated as facts, and physical dogmas are based upon the assumption of their actual existence, they become dangerous physical superstitions. Regarding matter as continuous, _i.e._, supposing it to be simply as it appears to be, and co-extensive with the universe, in accordance with the experimental evidences of the unlimited expansibility of gaseous matter, we need only assume that our sensations of heat, light, etc., are produced by active conditions of such matter analogous to those which are proved to produce our sensations of sound. On this basis there is no difficulty in conceiving the rationale of the reaction which produces the repulsion of the radiometer. I may even go further, and affirm that it is impossible to rationally conceive radiation producing any mechanical effects without mechanical reaction. If heat be motion, and actual motion of actual matter, mechanical force must be exerted to produce it, and a body which is warmer on one side than the other, _i.e._, which is exerting more outward motion-producing force on one side than on the other, must be subject to proportionally unequal reaction, and, therefore, if free to move, must retreat in a direction contrary to that of its greater activity. Regarded thus, the residual air of the radiometer does act, not by collisions of particles between the vane and inside of the glass vessel, but by the direct reaction of the radiant energy which would operate irrespective of vessels, _i.e._, upon naked radiometer vanes if carried halfway to the moon, or otherwise freed from excess of atmospheric embarrassment.
The recent experiments of Mr. Crookes, showing retardation of the radiometer with extreme exhaustion, seem to indicate that heat-rays, like the electric discharge, demand a certain amount of atmospheric matter as their carrier.
I cannot conclude these hasty and imperfect notes, written merely with suggestive intent, without quoting a passage from the preface to the “Correlation of Physical Forces,” which, though written so long ago, appears to me worthy of the profoundest present consideration.
“It appears to me that heat and light maybe considered as affections; or, according to the undulatory theory, vibrations of matter itself, and not of a distinct ethereal fluid permeating it: these vibrations would be propagated just as sound is propagated by vibrations of wood or as waves by water. To my mind all the consequences of the undulatory theory flow as easily from this as from the hypothesis of a specific ether; to suppose which, namely, to suppose a fluid _sui generis_ and of extreme tenuity penetrating solid bodies, we must assume, first, the existence of the fluid itself; secondly, that bodies are without exception porous; thirdly, that these pores communicate; fourthly, that matter is limited in expansibility. None of these difficulties apply to the modification of this theory which I venture to propose: and no other difficulty applies to it which does not equally apply to the received hypothesis.”
ON THE SOCIAL BENEFITS OF PARAFFIN.
To the inhabitants of Jupiter, who have always one, two, or three of their four moons in active and efficient radiation, or of Saturn displaying the broad luminous oceans of his mighty rings in addition to the minor lamps of his eight ever-changeful satellites, the relative merits of rushlights, candles, lamps, and gaslights may be a question of indifference; but to us, the residents of a planet which has but one small moon that only displays her nearly full face during a few nights of each month, the subject of artificial light is only second in importance to those of food and artificial heat, and every step that is made in the improvement of our supplies of this primary necessary must have a momentous influence on the physical comfort, and also upon the intellectual and moral progress, of this world’s human inhabitants.
If a cockney Rip Van Winkle were to revisit his old haunts, the changes produced by the introduction of gas would probably surprise him the most of all he would see. He would be astonished to find respectable people, and even unprotected females, going alone, unarmed and without fear, at night, up the by-streets which in his days were deemed so dangerous, and he would soon perceive that the bright gaslights had done more than all the laws, the magistrates, and the police, to drive out those crimes which can only flourish in darkness. The intimate connection between physical light and moral and intellectual light and progress is a subject well worthy of an exhaustive treatise.
We must, however, drop the general subject and come down to our particular paraffin lamp. In the first place, this is the cheapest light that has ever been invented—cheaper than any kind of oil lamp—cheaper than the cheapest and nastiest of candles, and, for domestic purposes, cheaper than gas. For large warehouses, shops, streets, public buildings, etc., it is not so cheap as gas should be, but is considerably cheaper than gas actually is at the price extorted by the despotism of commercial monopoly.
The reason why it is especially cheaper for domestic purposes is, first, because the small consumer of gas pays a higher price than the large consumer; and secondly, because a lamp can be placed on a table or wherever else its light is required, and therefore a small lamp flame will do the work of a much larger gas flame. We must remember that the intensity of light varies inversely with the square of the distance from the source of light; thus the amount of light received by this page from a light at one foot distance is four times as great as if it were two feet distant, nine times as great as at three feet, sixteen times as great as at four feet, one hundred times as great as at ten feet, and so on. Hence the necessity of two or three great flames in a gas chandelier suspended from the ceiling of a moderate-sized room.
In a sitting-room lighted thus with gas, we are obliged, in order to read comfortably by the distant source of light, to burn so much gas that the atmosphere of the room is seriously polluted by the products of this extravagant combustion. A lamp at a moderate distance—say eighteen inches or two feet, or thereabouts—will enable us to read or work with one-tenth to one-twentieth the amount of combustion, and therefore with so much less vitiation of the atmosphere, and, if we use a paraffin lamp, at much less expense.
But the chief value of the paraffin lamp is felt where gas is not obtainable—in the country mansion or villa, the farmhouse, and, most of all, in the poor man’s cottage. We have Bible Societies for providing cheap Bibles; we have cheap standard works, cheap magazines, cheap newspapers, etc.; but all these are unavailable to the poor man until he can get a good and cheap light wherewith to read them at the only time he has for reading, viz., in the evenings, when his work is done. One shilling’s worth of cheap literature will require two shillings’ worth of dear candles to supply the light necessary for reading it. Therefore, the cheapening of light has quite as much to do with the poor man’s intellectual progress as the cheapening of books and periodicals.
For a man to read comfortably, and his wife to do her needlework, they must have a candle for each, if dependent on tallow dips. They may, and do, struggle on with one such candle, but the inconvenience soon sickens them of their occupation; the man lolls out for an idle stroll, soon encounters a far more bright and cheerful room than the gloomy one he has just left, and, moth-like, he is attracted by the light, and finishes up his evening in the public-house.
We may preach, we may lecture, we may coax, wheedle, or anathematize, but no amount of words of any kind will render a gloomy ill-lighted cottage so attractive as the bright bar and tap-room; and human nature, irrespective of conventional distinctions of rank and class, always seeks cheerfulness after a day of monotonous toil. Fifty years ago the middle classes were accustomed to spend their evenings in taverns, but now they prefer their homes, simply because they have learned to make their homes more comfortable and attractive.
We have not yet learned how to supply the working millions with suburban villas, but if their small rooms can be made bright and cheerful during the long evenings, a most important step is made towards that general improvement of social habits which necessarily results from a greater love of home. We may safely venture to predict that the paraffin lamp will have as much influence in elevating the domestic character of the poorer classes as the street lamps have had in purging the streets of our cities from the crimes of darkness that once infested them.
A great deal has been said about the poisonous character of paraffin works. I admit that they have much to answer for in reference to trout—that the clumsy and wasteful management of certain ill-conducted works has interfered with the sport of the anglers of one or two of the trout streams of the United Kingdom—but all the assertions that have been made relative to injury to human health are quite contrary to truth.
The fact is that the manufacture of mineral oils from cannel and shale is an unusually healthful occupation. The men certainly have dirty faces, but are curiously exempt from those diseases which are most fatal among the poor. I allude to typhus fever, and all that terrible catalogue of ills usually classed under the head of zymotic diseases. This has been strikingly illustrated in the Flintshire district. The very sudden development of the oil trade in the neighborhood of Leeswood caused that little village and the scattered cottages around to be crowded to an extent that created the utmost alarm among all who are familiar with the results of such overcrowding in poor, ill-drained, and ill-ventilated cottages. Rooms were commonly filled with lodgers who economized the apartments on the Box and Cox principle, the night workers sleeping during the day, and the day workers during the night, in the same beds. The extent to which this overcrowding was carried in many instances is hardly credible.
Mr. R. Platt, who is surgeon to most of the collieries and oilworks of this district, reports that Leeswood has enjoyed a singular immunity from typhus and fever—that, during a period when it was prevalent as a serious epidemic among the agricultural population living on the slopes of the surrounding mountains, no single case occurred among the oil-making population of Leeswood, though its position and overcrowding seemed so directly to court its visitation. If space permitted I might give further illustrations in reference to allied diseases.
There is no difficulty in accounting for this. Carbolic acid, one of the most powerful of our disinfectants, is abundantly produced in the oilworks, and this is carried by the clothes of the men, and with the fumes of the oil, into the dwellings of the workmen and through all the atmosphere of the neighborhood, and has thereby counteracted some of the most deadly agencies of organic poisons. Besides this, the paraffin oil itself is a good disinfectant.
Even the mischief done to the trout is more than counterbalanced by the destruction of those mysterious fungoid growths which result from the admixture of sewage matter with the water of our rivers, and are so destructive to human health and life. The carbolic acid and paraffin oil, in destroying these as well as the trout, are really acting as great purifiers of the river, so that, after all, the only interest that has suffered is the sporting interest. This same interest has otherwise suffered. The old haunts of the snipe and woodcock, of partridges, hares, and pheasants, are being ruthlessly and barbarously destroyed, and—horrible to relate—hundreds of cottages, inhabited by vulgar, hard-handed, thick-booted human beings, are taking their place. Churches are being extended, school-houses and chapels built; penny readings, lectures, concerts, etc., are in active operation, and even drinking fountains are in course of construction; but the trout have suffered and the woodcocks are gone.
We may thus measure the good against the evil as it stands here in the headquarters of oil-making, and should add to one side the advantages which the cheap and brilliant light affords—advantages which we might continue to enumerate, but they are so obvious that it is unnecessary to go further.
There is one important and curious matter which must not be omitted. This, like the moral and intellectual advantages of the cheap paraffin light, has hitherto remained unnoticed, viz., that the introduction of mineral oils and solid paraffin for purposes of illumination and lubrication has largely increased the world’s supply of food.
This may not be generally obvious at first sight; but to him, who, like the writer, has had many a supper at an Italian osteria with peasants and carbonari, it is obvious enough. He will remember how often he has seen the lamp that has lighted himself and companions to their supper filled from the same flask as supplied the salad which formed so important a part of the supper itself. Throughout the South of Europe salads are most important elements of national food, and when thus abundantly eaten the oil is quite necessary, the oil is also used for many of the cookery operations where butter is used here, and this same olive oil has hitherto been the chief, and in some places the sole, illuminating agent. The poor peasant of the South looks jealously at his lamp, and feeds its stingily, for it consumes his richest and choicest food, and, if well supplied, would eat as much as a fair-sized baby.
The Russian peasant and other Northern people have a similar struggle in the matter of tallow. It is their choicest dainty, and yet, to their bitter grief, they have been compelled to burn it. Hundreds and thousands of tons of this and of olive oil have been annually consumed for the lubrication of our steam engines and other machines. A better time is approaching now that paraffin lamps are so rapidly becoming the chief illuminators of the whole civilized world, superseding the crude tallow candle and the antique olive-oil lamp, while, at the same time, the tallow candle is gradually being replaced by the beautiful sperm-like paraffin candle; and, in addition to this, the greedy engines that have consumed so much of the olive oil and the tallow are learning to be satisfied with lubricators made from minerals kindred to themselves.