Part 6

Compare now with these grand conceptions the popular belief of only a few centuries back. Where we look into the infinite depths, our Puritan forefathers saw only a solid dome hemming in the earth and skies, and through whose opened doors the rain descended. They regarded the sun and moon merely as great luminaries set in this firmament to rule the day and night, and to their understandings the stars served no better purpose than the spangles which glitter on the azure ceiling of many a modern church. The great work of Copernicus, "De Orbium Coelestium Revolutionibus," which was destined, ultimately, to overthrow the crude cosmography which Christianity had inherited from Judaism, was not published until just at the close of the author's life in 1543, the date before mentioned. The telescope, which was required to fully convince the world of its previous error, was not invented until more than half a century later, and it was not until 1835 that Struve detected the parallax of [alpha] Lyræ. The measurement of this parallax, together with Bessel's determination of the parallax of 61 Cygni, and Henderson's that of [alpha] Centauri, at about the same time, gave us our first accurate knowledge of the distances of the fixed stars.

To the thought I have endeavored to express, I must add another, before I can draw the lesson which I wish to teach. Great scientific truths become popularized very slowly, and, after they have been thoroughly worked out by the investigators, it is often many years before they become a part of the current knowledge of mankind. It was fully a century after Copernicus died, with his great volume--still wet from the press of Nuremberg--in his hands, before the Copernican theory was generally accepted even by the learned; and the intolerant spirit with which this work was received and the persecution which Galileo encountered more than half a century later were due solely to the circumstance that the new theory tended to subvert the popular faith in the cosmography of the Church. In modern times, with the many popular expositors of science, the diffusion of new truth is more rapid; but even now there is always a long interval after any great discovery in abstract science before the new conception is translated into the language of common life, so that it can be apprehended by the mass even of educated men.

I have thus dwelt on what must be familiar facts in the past history of astronomy, because they illustrate and will help you to realize the present condition of a much younger branch of physical science; for, in the transition period I have described, there exists now a conception which opens a vision into the microcosmos beneath us as extensive and as grand as that which the Copernican theory revealed into the macrocosmos above us.

The conception to which I refer will be at once suggested to every scientific scholar by the word _molecule_. This word is a Latin diminutive, which means, primarily, a small mass of matter; and, although heretofore often applied in mechanics to the indefinitely small particles of a body between which the attractive or repulsive forces might be supposed to act, it has only recently acquired the exact significance with which we now use it.

In attempting to discover the original usage of the word molecule, I was surprised to find that it was apparently first introduced into science by the great French naturalist, Buffon, who employed the term in a very peculiar sense. Buffon does not seem to have been troubled with the problem which so engrosses our modern naturalists--how the vegetable and animal kingdoms were developed into their present condition--but he was greatly exercised by an equally difficult problem, which seems to have been lost sight of in the present controversy, and which is just as obscure to-day as it was in Buffon's time, at the close of the last century, and that is, Why species are so persistent in Nature; why the acorn always grows into the oak, and why every creature always produces of its kind. And, if you will reflect upon it, I am sure you will conclude that this last is by far the more fundamental problem of the two, and one which necessarily includes the first. That, of two eggs, in which no anatomist can discover any structural difference, the one should, in a few short years, _develop_ an intelligence like Newton's, while the other soon ends in a Guinea-pig, is certainly a greater mystery than that, in the course of unnumbered ages, monkeys, by insensible gradations, should _grow_ into men.

In order to explain the remarkable constancy of species, Buffon advanced a theory which, when freed from a good deal that was fanciful, may be expressed thus: The attributes of every species, whether of plants or of animals, reside in their ultimate particles, or, to use a more philosophical but less familiar word, _inhere_ in these particles, which Buffon names _organic molecules_. According to Buffon, the oak owes all the peculiarities of its organization to the special oak molecules of which it consists; and so all the differences in the vegetable or animal kingdom, from the lowest to the highest species, depend on fundamental peculiarities with which their respective molecules were primarily endowed. There must, of course, be as many kinds of molecules as there are different species of living beings; but, while the molecules of the same species were supposed to be exactly alike, and to have a strong affinity or attraction for each other, those of different species were assumed to be inherently distinct and to have no such affinities. Buffon further assumed that these molecules of organic nature were diffused more or less widely through the atmosphere and through the soil, and that the acorn grew to the oak simply because, consisting itself of oak molecules, it could draw only oak molecules from the surrounding media.

With our present knowledge of the chemical constitution of organic beings, we can find a great deal that is both fantastic and absurd in this theory of Buffon; but it must be remembered that the science of chemistry is almost wholly a growth of the present century, while Buffon died in 1788; and, if we look at the theory solely from the standpoint of his knowledge, we shall find in it much that was worthy of this great man. Indeed, in our time, the essential features of the theory of Buffon have been transferred from natural history to chemistry almost unchanged.

According to our modern chemistry, the qualities of every substance reside or inhere in its molecules. Take this lump of sugar. It has certain qualities with which every one is familiar. Are those qualities attributes of the lump or of its parts? Certainly of its parts; for, if we break up the lump, the smallest particles will still taste sweet and show all the characteristics of sugar. Could we, then, carry on this subdivision indefinitely, provided only we had senses or tests delicate enough to recognize the qualities of sugar in the resulting particles? To this question, modern chemistry answers decidedly, No! You would before long reach the smallest mass that can have the qualities of sugar. You would have no difficulty in breaking up these masses, but you would then obtain, not smaller particles of sugar, but particles of those utterly different substances which we call carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen--in a word, particles of the elementary substances of which sugar consists. These ultimate particles of sugar we call the molecules of sugar, and thus we come to the present chemical definition of a molecule, "_The smallest particles of a substance in which its qualities inhere_," which, as you see, is a reproduction of Buffon's idea, although applied to matter and not to organism.

A lump of sugar, then, has its peculiar qualities because it is an aggregate of molecules which have those qualities, and a lump of salt differs from a lump of sugar simply because the molecules of salt differ from those of sugar, and so with every other substance. There are as many kinds of molecules in Nature as there are different substances, but all the molecules of the same substance are absolutely alike in every respect.

Thus far, as you see, we are merely reviving in a different association the old ideas of Buffon. But just at this point comes in a new conception, which gives far greater grandeur to our modern theory: for we conceive that those smallest particles in which the qualities of a substance inhere are definite bodies or systems of bodies moving in space, and that _a lump of sugar is a universe of moving worlds_.

If on a clear night you direct a telescope to one of the many star-clusters of our northern heavens, you will have presented to the eye as good a diagram as we can at present draw of what we suppose would, under certain circumstances, be seen in a lump of sugar if we could look into the molecular universe with the same facility with which the telescope penetrates the depths of space.

Do you tell me that the absurdities of Buffon were wisdom when compared with such wild speculations as these? The criticism is simply what I expected, and I must remind you that, as I intimated at the outset, this conception of modern science is in the transition period of which I then spoke, and, although very familiar to scientific scholars, has not yet been grasped by the popular mind. I can further only add that, wild as it may appear, the idea is the growth of legitimate scientific investigation, and express my conviction that it will soon become as much a part of the popular belief as those grand conceptions of astronomy to which I have referred.

Do you rejoin that we can see the suns in a stellar cluster, but can not even begin to see the molecules? I must again remind you that, in fact, you only see points of light in the field of the telescope, and that your knowledge that these points are immensely distant suns is an inference of astronomical science; and, further, that our knowledge--if I may so call our confident belief--that the lump of sugar is an aggregate of moving molecules is an equally legitimate inference of molecular mechanics, a science which, although so much newer, is as positive a field of study as astronomy. Moreover, sight is not the only avenue to knowledge; and, although our material limitations forbid us to expect that the microscope will ever be able to penetrate the molecular universe, yet we feel assured that we have been able by strictly experimental methods to weigh molecular masses and measure molecular magnitudes with as much accuracy as those of the fixed stars.

Of all forms of matter the gas has the simplest molecular structure, and, as might be anticipated, our knowledge of molecular magnitudes is as yet chiefly confined to materials of this class. I have given below some of the results which have been obtained in regard to the molecular magnitudes of hydrogen gas, one of the best studied of this class of substances; and, although the vast numbers are as inconceivable as are those of astronomy, they can not fail to impress you with the reality of the magnitudes they represent. I take hydrogen gas for my illustration rather than air, because our atmosphere is a mixture of two gases, oxygen and nitrogen, and therefore its condition is less simple than that of a perfectly homogeneous material like hydrogen. The molecular dimensions of other substances, although varying very greatly in their relative values, are of the same order of magnitude as these.[A]

[A] As some of the readers of this volume may be interested to compare these values, we reproduce the "Table of Molecular Data" from Professor Clerk Maxwell's lecture on "Molecules," delivered before the British Association at Bradford, and published in "Nature," September 25, 1873.

_Molecular Magnitudes at Standard Temperature and Pressure, 0° C. and 76 c. m._

+-----------+---------+----------+--------- RANK ACCORDING TO | Hydrogen. | Oxygen. | Carbonic | Carbonic ACCURACY OF KNOWLEDGE. | | | Oxide. | Dioxide. -----------------------+-----------+---------+----------+--------- RANK I. | | | | Relative mass | 1 | 16 | 14 | 22 Velocity in metres | | | | per second | 1,859 | 465 | 497 | 396 | | | | RANK II. | | | | Mean path in ten | | | | billionths (10^{-10})| | | | of a metre | 965 | 560 | 482 | 379 Collisions each | | | | second--number of | | | | millions | 17,750 | 7,646 | 9,489 | 9,720 | | | | RANK III. | | | | Diameter in hundred | | | | billionths (10^{-11})| | | | of a metre | 58 | 76 | 83 | 93 Mass in ten million | | | | million million | | | | millionths (10^{-25})| | | | of a gramme | 46 | 736 | 644 | 1,012 -----------------------+-----------+---------+----------+---------

Number of molecules in one cubic centimetre of every gas is nineteen million million million on 19 (10^{18}).

Two million hydrogen molecules side by side measure a little over one millimetre.

_Dimension of Hydrogen Molecules calculated for Temperature of Melting Ice, and for the Mean Height of the Barometer of the Sea Level:_

Mean velocity, 6,099 feet a second. Mean path, 31 ten-millionths of an inch. Collisions, 17,750 millions each second. Diameter, 438,000, side by side, measure 1/100 of an inch. Mass, 14 (millions^3) weigh 1/1000 of a grain. Gas-volume, 311 (millions^3) fill one cubic inch.

To explain how the values here presented were obtained would be out of place in a popular lecture,[B] but a few words in regard to two or three of the data are required to elucidate the subject of this lecture.

[B] _See_ Professor Maxwell's lecture, _loc. cit._; also, Appletons' "Cyclopædia," article "Molecules."

First, then, in regard to the mass or weight of the molecules. So far as their relative values are concerned, chemistry gives us the means of determining the molecular weights with very great accuracy; but when we attempt to estimate their weights in fractions of a grain--the smallest of our common standards--we can not expect precision, simply because the magnitudes compared are of such a different order; and the same is true of most of the other absolute dimensions, such as the diameter and volume of the molecules. We only regard the values given in our table as a very rough estimate, but still we have good grounds for believing that they are sufficiently accurate to give us a true idea of the order of the quantities with which we are dealing; and it will be seen that, although the numbers required to express the relations to our ordinary standards are so large, these molecular magnitudes are no more removed from us on the one side than are those of astronomy on the other.

Passing next to the velocity of the molecular motion, we find in that a quantity which, although large, is commensurate with the velocity of sound, the velocity of a rifle-ball, and the velocities of many other motions with which we are familiar. We are, therefore, not comparing, as before, quantities of an utterly different order, and we have confidence that we have been able to determine the value within very narrow limits of error. But how surprising the result is! Those molecules of hydrogen are constantly moving to and fro with this great velocity, and not only are the molecules of all aëriform substances moving at similar, although differing rates, but the same is equally true of the molecules of every substance, whatever may be its state of aggregation.

The gas is the simplest molecular condition of matter, because in this state the molecules are so far separated from each other that their motions are not influenced by mutual attractions. Hence, in accordance with the well-known laws of motion, gas molecules must always move in straight lines and with a constant velocity until they collide with each other or strike against the walls of the containing vessel, when, in consequence of their elasticity, they at once rebound and start on a new path with a new velocity. In these collisions, however, there is no loss of motion, for, as the molecules have the same weight and are perfectly elastic, they simply change velocities, and whatever one may lose the other must gain.

But, if the velocity changes in this way, you may ask, What meaning has the definite value given in our table? The answer is, that this is the mean value of the velocity of all the molecules in a mass of hydrogen gas under the assumed conditions; and, by the principle just stated, the mean value can not be changed by the collisions of the molecules among themselves, however great may be the change in the motion of the individuals.

In both liquids and solids the molecular motions are undoubtedly as active as in a gas, but they must be greatly influenced by the mutual attractions which hold the particles together, and hence the conditions are far more complicated, and present a problem which we have been able to solve only very imperfectly, and with which, fortunately, we have not at present to deal.

Limiting, then, our study to the molecular condition of a gas, picture to yourselves what must be the condition of our atmosphere, with its molecules flying about in all directions. Conceive what a molecular storm must be raging about us, and how it must beat against our bodies and against every exposed surface. The molecules of our atmosphere move, on an average, nearly four (3·8) times slower than those of hydrogen under the same conditions; but then they weigh, on an average, fourteen and a half times more than hydrogen molecules, and therefore strike with as great energy. And do not think that the effect of these blows is insignificant because the molecular projectiles are so small; they make up by their number for what they want in size.

Consider, for example, a cubic yard of air, which, if measured at the freezing-point, weighs considerably over two pounds. That cubic yard of material contains over two pounds of molecules, which are moving with an average velocity of 1,605 feet a second, and this motion is equivalent, in every respect, to that of a cannon-ball of equal weight rushing along its path at the same tremendous rate. Of course, this is true of every cubic yard of air at the same temperature; and, if the motion of the molecules of the atmosphere around us could by any means be turned into one and the same direction, the result would be a hurricane sweeping over the earth with this velocity--that is, at the rate of 1,094 miles an hour--whose destructive violence not even the Pyramids could withstand.

Living as we do in the midst of a molecular tornado capable of such effects, our safety lies wholly in the circumstance that the storm beats equally in all directions at the same time, and the force is thus so exactly balanced that we are wholly unconscious of the tumult. Not even the aspen-leaf is stirred, nor the most delicate membrane broken; but let us remove the air from one of the surfaces of such a membrane, and then the power of the molecular storm becomes evident, as in the familiar experiments with an air-pump.

As has already been intimated, the values of the velocities both of hydrogen and of air molecules given above were measured at a definite temperature, 32° of our Fahrenheit thermometer, the freezing point of water; and this introduces a very important point bearing on our subject, namely, that the molecular velocities vary very greatly with the temperature. Indeed, according to our theory, this very molecular motion constitutes that state or condition of matter which we call temperature. A hot body is one whose molecules are moving comparatively rapidly, and a cold body one in which they are moving comparatively slowly. Without, however, entering into further details, which would involve the whole mechanical theory of heat, let me call your attention to a single consequence of the principle I have stated.

When we heat hydrogen, air, or any mass of gas, we simply increase the velocity of its moving molecules. When we cool the gas, we simply lessen the velocity of the same molecules. Take a current of air which enters a room through a furnace. In passing it comes in contact with heated iron, and, as we say, is heated. But, as we view the process, the molecules of the air, while in contact with the hot iron, collide with the very rapidly oscillating metallic molecules, and fly back as a billiard-ball would under similar circumstances, with a greatly increased velocity, and it is this more rapid motion which alone constitutes the higher temperature.

Consider, next, what must be the effect on the surface. A moment's reflection will show that the normal pressure exerted by the molecular storm, always raging in the atmosphere, is due not only to the impact of the molecules, but also to the reaction caused by their rebound. When the molecules rebound, they are, as it were, driven away from the surface in virtue of the inherent elasticity both of the surface and of the molecules. Now, what takes place when one mass of matter is driven away from another--when a cannon-ball is driven out of a gun, for example? Why, the gun _kicks_! And so every surface from which molecules rebound must _kick_; and, if the velocity is not changed by the collision, one half of the pressure caused by the molecular bombardment is due to the recoil. From a heated surface, as we have said, the molecules rebound with an increased velocity, and hence the recoil must be proportionally increased, determining a greater pressure against the surface.

According to this theory, then, we should expect that the air would press unequally against surfaces at different temperatures, and that, other things being equal, the pressure exerted would be greater the higher the temperature of the surface. Such a result, of course, is wholly contrary to common experience, which tells us that a uniform mass of air presses equally in all directions and against all surfaces of the same area, whatever may be their condition. It would seem, then, at first sight, as if we had here met with a conspicuous case in which our theory fails. But further study will convince us that the result is just what we should expect in a dense atmosphere like that in which we dwell; and, in order that this may become evident, let me next call your attention to another class of molecular magnitudes.