Chapter VI: Part 6

Looked at through a prism, the white-hot platinum yields all the colours of the spectrum. Before impinging upon the platinum, the waves were of too slow recurrence to awaken vision; by the atoms of the platinum, these long and sluggish waves are broken up into shorter ones, being thus brought within the visual range. At the other end of the spectrum, by the interposition of suitable substances, Professor Stokes _lowered_ the refrangibility, so as to render the non-visual rays visual, and to this change he gave the name of _Fluorescence_. Here, by the intervention of the platinum, the refrangibility is _raised_, so as to render the non-visual visual, and to this change I have given the name of _Calorescence_.

At the perfectly invisible focus where these effects are produced, the air may be as cold as ice. Air, as already stated, does not absorb radiant heat, and is therefore not warmed by it. Nothing could more forcibly illustrate the isolation, if I may use the term, of the luminiferous ether from the air. The wave-motion of the one is heaped up to an extraordinary degree of intensity, without producing any sensible effect upon the other. I may add that, with suitable precautions, the eye may be placed in a focus competent to heat platinum to vivid redness, without experiencing any damage, or the slightest sensation either of light or heat.

The important part played by these ultra-red rays in Nature may be thus illustrated: I remove the iodine filter, and concentrate the total beam upon a test tube containing water. It immediately begins to splutter, and in a minute or two it _boils_. What boils it? Placing the alum solution in front of the lamp, the boiling instantly ceases. Now, the alum is pervious to all the luminous rays; hence it cannot be these rays that caused the boiling. I now introduce the iodine, and remove the alum: vigorous ebullition immediately recommences at the invisible focus. So that we here fix upon the invisible ultra-red rays the heating of the water.

We are thus enabled to understand the momentous part played by these rays in Nature. It is to them that we owe the warming and the consequent evaporation of the tropical ocean; it is to them, therefore, that we owe our rains and snows. They are absorbed close to the surface of the ocean, and warm the superficial water, while the luminous rays plunge to great depths without producing any sensible effect. But we can proceed further than this. Here is a large flask containing a freezing mixture, which has so chilled the flask, that the aqueous vapour of the air of this room has been condensed and frozen upon it to a white fur. Introducing the alum-cell, and placing the coating of hoar-frost at the intensely luminous focus of the electric lamp, not a spicula of the dazzling frost is melted. Introducing the iodine-cell, and removing the alum, a broad space of the frozen coating is instantly melted away. Hence we infer that the snow and ice, which feed the Rhone, the Rhine, and other rivers with glaciers for their sources, are released from their imprisonment upon the mountains by the invisible ultra-red rays of the sun.

§ 6. _Identity of Light and Radiant Heat. Reflection from Plane and Curved Surfaces. Total Reflection of Heat_.

The growth of science is organic. That which today is an _end_ becomes to-morrow a _means_ to a remoter end. Every new discovery in science is immediately made the basis of other discoveries, or of new methods of investigation. Thus about fifty years ago OErsted, of Copenhagen, discovered the deflection of a magnetic needle by an electric current; and about the same time Thomas Seebeck, of Berlin, discovered thermoelectricity. These great discoveries were soon afterwards turned to account, by Nobili and Melloni, in the construction of an instrument which has vastly augmented our knowledge of radiant heat. This instrument, which is called a _thermo-electric pile_, or more briefly a thermo-pile, consists of thin bars of bismuth and antimony, soldered alternately together at their ends, but separated from each other elsewhere. From the ends of this 'thermo-pile' wires pass to a galvanometer, which consists of a coil of covered wire, within and above which are suspended two magnetic needles, joined to a rigid system, and carefully defended from currents of air.

The action of the arrangement is this: the heat, falling on the pile, produces an electric current; the current, passing through the coil, deflects the needles, and the magnitude of the deflection may be made a measure of the heat. The upper needle moves over a graduated dial far too small to be directly seen. It is now, however, strongly illuminated; and above it is a lens which, if permitted, would form an image of the needle and dial upon the ceiling. There, however, it could not be conveniently viewed. The beam is therefore received upon a looking-glass, placed at the proper angle, which throws the image upon a screen. In this way the motions of this small needle may be made visible to you all.

The delicacy of this apparatus is such that in a room filled, as this room now is, with an audience physically warm, it is exceedingly difficult to work with it. My assistant stands several feet off. I turn the pile towards him: the heat radiated from his face, even at this distance, produces a deflection of 90°. I turn the instrument towards a distant wall, a little below the average temperature of the room. The needle descends and passes to the other side of zero, declaring by this negative deflection that the pile has lost its warmth by radiation against the cold wall. Possessed of this instrument, of our ray-filter, and of our large Nicol prisms, we are in a condition to investigate a subject of great philosophical interest; one which long engaged the attention of some of our foremost scientific workers--the substantial _identity of light and radiant heat_.

That they are identical in _all_ respects cannot of course be the case, for if they were they would act in the same manner upon all instruments, the _eye_ included. The identity meant is such as subsists between one colour and another, causing them to behave alike as regards reflection, refraction, double refraction, and polarization. Let us here run rapidly over the resemblances of light and heat. As regards reflection from plane surfaces, we may employ a looking-glass to reflect the light. Marking any point in the track of the reflected beam, cutting off the light by the dissolved iodine, and placing the pile at the marked point, the needle immediately starts aside, showing that the heat is reflected in the same direction as the light. This is true for every position of the mirror. Recurring, for example, to the simple apparatus employed in our first lecture (fig. 3, p. 11); moving the index attached to the mirror along the divisions of our graduated arc (_m_ _n_), and determining by the pile the positions of the invisible reflected beam, we prove that the angular velocity of the heat-beam, like that of the light-beam, is twice that of the mirror.

As regards reflection from curved surfaces, the identity also holds good. Receiving the beam from our electric lamp on a concave mirror (_m_ _m_, fig. 49), it is gathered up into a cone of reflected light rendered visible by the floating dust of the air; marking the apex of the cone by a pointer, and cutting off the light by the iodine solution (T), a moment's exposure of the pile (P) at the marked point produces a violent deflection of the needle.

The common reflection and the total reflection of a beam of radiant heat may be simultaneously demonstrated. From the nozzle of the lamp (L, fig. 50) a beam impinges upon a plane mirror (M N), is reflected upwards, and enters a right-angled prism, of which _a_ _b_ _c_ is the section. It meets the hypothenuse at an obliquity greater than the limiting angle,[23] and is therefore totally reflected. Quenching the light by the ray-filter at F, and placing the pile at P, the totally reflected heat-beam is immediately felt by the pile, and declared by the galvanometric deflection.

§ 7. _Invisible Images formed by Radiant Heat._

Perhaps no experiment proves more conclusively the substantial identity of light and radiant heat, than the formation of invisible heat-images. Employing the mirror already used to raise the beam to its highest state of concentration, we obtain, as is well known, an inverted image of the carbon points, formed by the light rays at the focus. Cutting off the light by the ray-filter, and placing at the focus a thin sheet of platinized platinum, the invisible rays declare their presence and distribution, by stamping upon the platinum a white-hot image of the carbons. (See fig. 51.)

§ 8. _Polarization of Heat_.

Whether radiant heat be capable of polarization or not was for a long time a subject of discussion. Bérard had announced affirmative results, but Powell and Lloyd failed to verify them. The doubts thus thrown upon the question were removed by the experiments of Forbes, who first established the polarization and 'depolarization' of heat. The subject was subsequently followed up by Melloni, an investigator of consummate ability, who sagaciously turned to account his own discovery, that the obscure rays of luminous sources are in part transmitted by black glass. Intercepting by a plate of this glass the light from an oil flame, and operating upon the transmitted invisible heat, he obtained effects of polarization, far exceeding in magnitude those which could be obtained with non-luminous sources. At present the possession of our more perfect ray-filter, and more powerful source of heat, enables us to pursue this identity question to its utmost practical limits.

Mounting our two Nicols (B and C, fig. 52) in front of the electric lamp, with their principal sections crossed, no light reaches the screen. Placing our thermo-electric pile (D) behind the prisms, with its face turned towards the source, no deflection of the galvanometer is observed. Interposing between the lamp (A) and the first prism (B) our ray-filter, the light previously transmitted through the first Nicol is quenched; and now the slightest turning of either Nicol opens a way for the transmission of the heat, a very small rotation sufficing to send the needle up to 90°. When the Nicol is turned back to its first position, the needle again sinks to zero, thus demonstrating, in the plainest manner, the polarization of the heat.

When the Nicols are crossed and the field is dark, you have seen, in the case of light, the effect of introducing a plate of mica between the polarizer and analyzer. In two positions the mica exerts no sensible influence; in all others it does. A precisely analogous deportment is observed as regards radiant heat. Introducing our ray-filter, the thermo-pile, playing the part of an eye as regards the invisible radiation, receives no heat when the eye receives no light; but when the mica is so turned as to make its planes of vibration oblique to those of the polarizer and analyzer, the heat immediately passes through. So strong does the action become, that the momentary plunging of the film of mica into the dark space between the Nicols suffices to send the needle up to 90°. This is the effect to which the term 'depolarization' has been applied; the experiment really proving that with both light and heat we have the same resolution by the plate of mica, and recompounding by the analyzer, of the ethereal vibrations.

Removing the mica and restoring the needle once more to 0°, I introduce between the Nicols a plate of quartz cut perpendicular to the axis; the immediate deflection of the needle declares the transmission of the heat, and when the transmitted beam is properly examined, it is found to be circularly polarized, exactly as a beam of light is polarized under the same conditions.

§ 9. _Double Refraction of Heat_.

I will now abandon the Nicols, and send through the piece of Iceland spar (B, fig. 53), already employed (in Lecture III.) to illustrate the double refraction of light, our sifted beam of invisible heat. To determine the positions of the two images, let us first operate upon the luminous beam. Marking the places of the light-images, we introduce between N and L our ray-filter (not in the figure) and quench the light. Causing the pile to approach one of the marked places, the needle remains unmoved until the place has been attained; here the pile at once detects the heat. Pushing the pile across the interval separating the two marks, the needle first falls to 0°, and then rises again to 90° in the second position. This proves the double refraction of the heat.

I now turn the Iceland spar: the needle remains fixed; there is no alteration of the deflection. Passing the pile rapidly across to the other mark, the deflection is maintained. Once more I turn the spar, but now the needle falls to 0°, rising, however, again to 90° after a rotation of 360°. We know that in the case of light the extraordinary beam rotates round the ordinary one; and we have here been operating on the extraordinary heat-beam, which, as regards double refraction, behaves exactly like a beam of light.

§ 10. _Magnetization of Heat_.

To render our series of comparisons complete, we must demonstrate the magnetization of heat. But here a slight modification of our arrangement will be necessary. In repeating Faraday's experiment on the magnetization of light, we had, in the first instance, our Nicols crossed and the field rendered dark, a flash of light appearing upon the screen when the magnet was excited. Now the quantity of light transmitted in this case is really very small, its effect being rendered striking through contrast with the preceding darkness. When we so place the Nicols that their principal sections enclose an angle of 45°, the excitement of the magnet causes a far greater positive augmentation of the light, though the augmentation is not so well _seen_ through lack of contrast, because here, at starting, the field is illuminated.

In trying to magnetize our beam of heat, we will adopt this arrangement. Here, however, at the outset, a considerable amount of heat falls upon one face of the pile. This it is necessary to neutralize, by permitting rays from another source to fall upon the opposite face of the pile. The needle is thus brought to zero. Cutting off the light by our ray-filter, and exciting the magnet, the needle is instantly deflected, proving that the magnet has opened a door for the heat, exactly as in Faraday's experiment it opened a door for the light. Thus, in every case brought under our notice, the substantial identity of light and radiant heat has been demonstrated.

By the refined experiments of Knoblauch, who worked long and successfully at this question, the double refraction of heat, by Iceland spar, was first demonstrated; but, though he employed the luminous heat of the sun, the observed deflections were exceedingly small. So, likewise, those eminent investigators De la Povostaye and Desains succeeded in magnetizing a beam of heat; but though, in their case also, the luminous solar heat was employed, the deflection obtained did not amount to more than two or three degrees. With _obscure_ radiant heat the effect, prior to the experiments now brought before you, had not been obtained; but, with the arrangement here described, we obtain deflections from purely invisible heat, equal to 150 of the lower degrees of the galvanometer.

§ 11. _Distribution of Heat in the Electric Spectrum_.

We have finally to determine the position and magnitude of the invisible radiation which produces these results. For this purpose we employ a particular form of the thermo-pile. Its face is a rectangle, which by movable side-pieces can be rendered as narrow as desirable. Throwing a small and concentrated spectrum upon a screen, by means of an endless screw we move the rectangular pile through the entire spectrum, and determine in succession the thermal power of all its colours.

When this instrument is brought to the violet end of the spectrum, the heat is found to be almost insensible. As the pile gradually moves from the violet towards the red, it encounters a gradually augmenting heat. The red itself possesses the highest heating power of all the colours of the spectrum. Pushing the pile into the dark space beyond the red, the heat rises suddenly in intensity, and at some distance beyond the red it attains a maximum. From this point the heat falls somewhat more rapidly than it rose, and afterwards gradually fades away.

Drawing a horizontal line to represent the length of the spectrum, and erecting along it, at various points, perpendiculars proportional in length to the heat existing at those points, we obtain a curve which exhibits the distribution of heat in the prismatic spectrum. It is represented in the adjacent figure. Beginning at the blue, the curve rises, at first very gradually; towards the red it rises more rapidly, the line C D (fig. 54, opposite page) representing the strength of the extreme red radiation. Beyond the red it shoots upwards in a steep and massive peak to B; whence it falls, rapidly for a time, and afterwards gradually fades from the perception of the pile. This figure is the result of more than twelve careful series of measurements, from each of which the curve was constructed. On superposing all these curves, a satisfactory agreement was found to exist between them. So that it may safely be concluded that the areas of the dark and white spaces, respectively, represent the relative energies of the visible and invisible radiation. The one is 7.7 times the other.

But in verification, as already stated, consists the strength of science. Determining in the first place the total emission from the electric lamp, and then, by means of the iodine filter, determining the ultra-red emission; the difference between both gives the luminous emission. In this way, it is found that the energy of the invisible emission is eight times that of the visible. No two methods could be more opposed to each other, and hardly any two results could better harmonize. I think, therefore, you may rely upon the accuracy of the distribution of heat here assigned to the prismatic spectrum of the electric light. There is nothing vague in the mode of investigation, or doubtful in its conclusions. Spectra are, however, formed by _diffraction_, wherein the distribution of both heat and light is different from that produced by the prism. These diffractive spectra have been examined with great skill by Draper and Langley. In the prismatic spectrum the less refrangible rays are compressed into a much smaller space than in the diffraction spectrum.

LECTURE VI.

PRINCIPLES OF SPECTRUM ANALYSIS PRISMATIC ANALYSIS OF THE LIGHT OF INCANDESCENT VAPOURS DISCONTINUOUS SPECTRA SPECTRUM BANDS PROVED BY BUNSEN AND KIRCHHOFF TO BE CHARACTERISTIC OF THE VAPOUR DISCOVERY OF RUBIDIUM, CÆSIUM, AND THALLIUM RELATION OF EMISSION TO ABSORPTION THE LINES OF FRAUNHOFER THEIR EXPLANATION BY KIRCHHOFF SOLAR CHEMISTRY INVOLVED IN THIS EXPLANATION FOUCAULT'S EXPERIMENT PRINCIPLES OF ABSORPTION ANALOGY OF SOUND AND LIGHT EXPERIMENTAL DEMONSTRATION OF THIS ANALOGY RECENT APPLICATIONS OF THE SPECTROSCOPE SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

We have employed as our source of light in these lectures the ends of two rods of coke rendered incandescent by electricity. Coke is particularly suitable for this purpose, because it can bear intense heat without fusion or vaporization. It is also black, which helps the light; for, other circumstances being equal, as shown experimentally by Professor Balfour Stewart, the blacker the body the brighter will be its light when incandescent. Still, refractory as carbon is, if we closely examined our voltaic arc, or stream of light between the carbon-points, we should find there incandescent carbon-vapour. And if we could detach the light of this vapour from the more dazzling light of the solid points, we should find its spectrum not only less brilliant, but of a totally different character from the spectra that we have already seen. Instead of being an unbroken succession of colours from red to violet, the carbon-vapour would yield a few bands of colour with spaces of darkness between them.

What is true of the carbon is true in a still more striking degree of the metals, the most refractory of which can be fused, boiled, and reduced to vapour by the electric current. From the incandescent vapour the light, as a general rule, flashes in groups of rays of definite degrees of refrangibility, spaces existing between group and group, which are unfilled by rays of any kind. But the contemplation of the facts will render this subject more intelligible than words can make it. Within the camera is now placed a cylinder of carbon hollowed out at the top; in the hollow is placed a fragment of the metal thallium. Down upon this we bring the upper carbon-point, and then separate the one from the other. A stream of incandescent thallium-vapour passes between them, the magnified image of which is now seen upon the screen. It is of a beautiful green colour. What is the meaning of that green? We answer the question by subjecting the light to prismatic analysis. Sent through the prism, its spectrum is seen to consist of a single refracted band. Light of one degree of refrangibility--that corresponding to this particular green--is emitted by the thallium-vapour.

We will now remove the thallium and put a bit of silver in its place. The are of silver is not to be distinguished from that of thallium; it is not only green, but the same shade of green. Are they then alike? Prismatic analysis enables us to answer the question. However impossible it is to distinguish the one _colour_ from the other, it is equally impossible to confound the _spectrum_ of incandescent silver-vapour with that of thallium. In the case of silver, we have two green bands instead of one.

If we add to the silver in our camera a bit of thallium, we shall obtain the light of both metals. After waiting a little, we see that the green of the thallium lies midway between the two greens of the silver. Hence this similarity of colour.

But why have we to 'wait a little' before we see this effect? The thallium band at first almost masks the silver bands by its superior brightness. Indeed, the silver bands have wonderfully degenerated since the bit of thallium was put in, and for a reason worth knowing. It is the _resistance_ offered to the passage of the electric current from carbon to carbon, that calls forth the power of the current to produce heat. If the resistance were materially lessened, the heat would be materially lessened; and if all resistance were abolished, there would be no heat at all. Now, thallium is a much more fusible and vaporizable metal than silver; and its vapour facilitates the passage of the electricity to such a degree, as to render the current almost incompetent to vaporize the more refractory silver. But the thallium is gradually consumed; its vapour diminishes, the resistance rises, until finally you see the two silver bands as brilliant as they were at first.[24]

We have in these bands a perfectly unalterable characteristic of the two metals. You never get other bands than these two green ones from the silver, never other than the single green band from the thallium, never other than the three green bands from the mixture of both metals. Every known metal has its own particular bands, and in no known case are the bands of two different metals alike in refrangibility. It follows, therefore, that these spectra may be made a sure test for the presence or absence of any particular metal. If we pass from the metals to their alloys, we find no confusion. Copper gives green bands; zinc gives blue and red bands; brass--an alloy of copper and zinc--gives the bands of both metals, perfectly unaltered in position or character.

But we are not confined to the metals themselves; the _salts_ of these metals yield the bands of the metals. Chemical union is ruptured by a sufficiently high heat; the vapour of the metal is set free, and it yields its characteristic bands. The chlorides of the metals are particularly suitable for experiments of this character. Common salt, for example, is a compound of chlorine and sodium; in the electric lamp it yields the spectrum of the metal sodium. The chlorides of copper, lithium, and strontium yield, in like manner, the bands of these metals.

When, therefore, Bunsen and Kirchhoff, the illustrious founders of _spectrum analysis_, after having established by an exhaustive examination the spectra of all known substances, discovered a spectrum containing bands different from any known bands, they immediately inferred the existence of a new metal. They were operating at the time upon a residue, obtained by evaporating one of the mineral waters of Germany. In that water they knew the unknown metal was concealed, but vast quantities of it had to be evaporated before a residue could be obtained sufficiently large to enable ordinary chemistry to grapple with the metal. They, however, hunted it down, and it now stands among chemical substances as the metal _Rubidium_. They subsequently discovered a second metal, which they called _Cæsium_. Thus, having first placed spectrum analysis on a sure foundation, they demonstrated its capacity as an agent of discovery. Soon afterwards Mr. Crookes, pursuing the same method, discovered the bright green band of _Thallium_, and obtained the salts of the metal which yielded it. The metal itself was first isolated in ingots by M. Lamy, a French chemist.

All this relates to chemical discovery upon earth, where the materials are in our own hands. But it was soon shown how spectrum analysis might be applied to the investigation of the sun and stars; and this result was reached through the solution of a problem which had been long an enigma to natural philosophers. The scope and conquest of this problem we must now endeavour to comprehend. A spectrum is _pure_ in which the colours do not overlap each other. We purify the spectrum by making our beam narrow, and by augmenting the number of our prisms. When a pure spectrum of the sun has been obtained in this way, it is found to be furrowed by innumerable dark lines. Four of them were first seen by Dr. Wollaston, but they were afterwards multiplied and measured by Fraunhofer with such masterly skill, that they are now universally known as Fraunhofer's lines. To give an explanation of these lines was, as I have said, a problem which long challenged the attention of philosophers, and to Professor Kirchhoff belongs the honour of having first conquered this problem.

(The positions of the principal lines, lettered according to Fraunhofer, are shown in the annexed sketch (fig. 55) of the solar spectrum. A is supposed to stand near the extreme red, and J near the extreme violet.)

The brief memoir of two pages, in which this immortal discovery is recorded, was communicated to the Berlin Academy on October 27, 1859. Fraunhofer had remarked in the spectrum of a candle flame two bright lines, which coincide accurately, as to position, with the double dark line D of the solar spectrum. These bright lines are produced with particular intensity by the yellow flame derived from a mixture of salt and alcohol. They are in fact the lines of sodium vapour. Kirchhoff produced a spectrum by permitting the sunlight to enter his telescope by a slit and prism, and in front of the slit he placed the yellow sodium flame. As long as the spectrum remained feeble, there always appeared two bright lines, derived from the flame, in the place of the two dark lines D of the spectrum. In this case, such absorption as the flame exerted upon the sunlight was more than atoned for by the radiation from the flame. When, however, the solar spectrum was rendered sufficiently intense, the bright bands vanished, and the two dark Fraunhofer lines appeared with much greater sharpness and distinctness than when the flame was not employed.

This result, be it noted, was not due to any real quenching of the bright lines of the flame, but to the augmentation of the intensity of the adjacent spectrum. The experiment proved to demonstration, that when the white light sent through the flame was sufficiently intense, the quantity which the flame absorbed was far in excess of that which it radiated.

Here then is a result of the utmost significance. Kirchhoff immediately inferred from it that the salt flame, which could intensify so remarkably the dark lines of Fraunhofer, ought also to be able to _produce_ them. The spectrum of the Drummond light is known to exhibit the two bright lines of sodium, which, however, gradually disappear as the modicum of sodium, contained as an impurity in the incandescent lime, is exhausted. Kirchhoff formed a spectrum of the limelight, and after the two bright lines had vanished, he placed his salt flame in front of the slit. The two dark lines immediately started forth. Thus, in the continuous spectrum of the lime-light, he evoked, artificially, the lines D of Fraunhofer.

Kirchhoff knew that this was an action not peculiar to the sodium flame, and he immediately extended his generalisation to all coloured flames which yield sharply defined bright bands in their spectra. White light, with all its constituents complete, sent through such flames, would, he inferred, have those precise constituents absorbed, whose refrangibilities are the same as those of the bright bands; so that after passing through such flames, the white light, if sufficiently intense, would have its spectrum furrowed by bands of darkness. On the occasion here referred to Kirchhoff also succeeded in reversing a bright band of lithium.

The long-standing difficulty of Fraunhofer's lines fell to pieces in the presence of facts and reflections like these, which also carried with them an immeasurable extension of the chemist's power. Kirchhoff saw that from the agreement of the lines in the spectra of terrestrial substances with Fraunhofer's lines, the presence of these substances in the sun and fixed stars might be immediately inferred. Thus the dark lines D in the solar spectrum proved the existence of sodium in the solar atmosphere; while the bright lines discovered by Brewster in a nitre flame, which had been proved to coincide exactly with certain dark lines between A and B in the solar spectrum, proved the existence of potassium in the sun.

All subsequent research verified the accuracy of these first daring conclusions. In his second paper, communicated to the Berlin Academy before the close of 1859, Kirchhoff proved the existence of iron in the sun. The bright lines of the spectrum of iron vapour are exceedingly numerous, and 65 of them were subsequently proved by Kirchhoff to be absolutely identical in position with 65 dark Fraunhofer's lines. Ångström and Thalén pushed the coincidences to 450 for iron, while, according to the same excellent investigators, the following numbers express the coincidences, in the case of the respective metals to which they are attached:--

Calcium 75 Barium 11 Magnesium 4 Manganese 57 Titanium 118 Chromium 18 Nickel 33 Cobalt 19 Hydrogen 4 Aluminium 2 Zinc 2 Copper 7

The probability is overwhelming that all these substances exist in the atmosphere of the sun.

Kirchhoff's discovery profoundly modified the conceptions previously entertained regarding the constitution of the sun, leading him to views which, though they may be modified in detail, will, I believe, remain substantially valid to the end of time. The sun, according to Kirchhoff, consists of a molten nucleus which is surrounded by a flaming atmosphere of lower temperature. The nucleus may, in part, be _clouds_, mixed with, or underlying true vapour. The light of the nucleus would give us a continuous spectrum, like that of the Drummond light; but having to pass through the photosphere, as Kirchhoff's beam passed through the sodium flame, those rays of the nucleus which the photosphere emit are absorbed, and shaded lines, corresponding to the rays absorbed, occur in the spectrum. Abolish the solar nucleus, and we should have a spectrum showing a bright line in the place of every dark line of Fraunhofer, just as, in the case of Kirchhoff's second experiment, we should have the bright sodium lines of the flame if the lime-light were withdrawn. These lines of Fraunhofer are therefore not absolutely dark, but dark by an amount corresponding to the difference between the light intercepted and the light emitted by the photosphere.

Almost every great scientific discovery is approached contemporaneously by many minds, the fact that one mind usually confers upon it the distinctness of demonstration being an illustration, not of genius isolated, but of genius in advance. Thus Foucault, in 1849, came to the verge of Kirchhoff's discovery. By converging an image of the sun upon a voltaic arc, and thus obtaining the spectra of both sun and arc superposed, he found that the two bright lines which, owing to the presence of a little sodium in the carbons or in the air, are seen in the spectrum of the arc, coincide with the dark lines D of the solar spectrum. The lines D he found to he considerably strengthened by the passage of the solar light through the voltaic arc.

Instead of the image of the sun, Foucault then projected upon the arc the image of one of the solid incandescent carbon points, which of itself would give a continuous spectrum; and he found that the lines D were thus _generated_ in that spectrum. Foucault's conclusion from this admirable experiment was 'that the arc is a medium which emits the rays D on its own account, and at the same time absorbs them when they come from another quarter.' Here he stopped. He did not extend his observations beyond the voltaic arc; he did not offer any explanation of the lines of Fraunhofer; he did not arrive at any conception of solar chemistry, or of the constitution of the sun. His beautiful experiment remained a germ without fruit, until the discernment, ten years subsequently, of the whole class of phenomena to which it belongs, enabled Kirchhoff to solve these great problems.

Soon after the publication of Kirchhoff's discovery, Professor Stokes, who also, ten years prior to the discovery, had nearly anticipated it, borrowed an illustration from sound, to explain the reciprocity of radiation and absorption. A stretched string responds to aërial vibrations which synchronize with its own. A great number of such strings stretched in space would roughly represent a medium; and if the note common to them all were sounded at a distance they would take up or absorb its vibrations.

When a violin-bow is drawn across this tuning-fork, the room is immediately filled with a musical sound, which may be regarded as the _radiation_ or _emission_ of sound from the fork. A few days ago, on sounding this fork, I noticed that when its vibrations were quenched, the sound seemed to be continued, though more feebly. It appeared, moreover, to come from under a distant table, where stood a number of tuning-forks of different sizes and rates of vibration. One of these, and one only, had been started by the sounding fork, and it was the one whose rate of vibration was the same as that of the fork which started it. This is an instance of the _absorption_ of the sound of one fork by another. Placing two unisonant forks near each other, sweeping the bow over one of them, and then quenching the agitated fork, the other continues to sound; this other can re-excite the former, and several transfers of sound between the two forks can be thus effected. Placing a cent-piece on each prong of one of the forks, we destroy its perfect synchronism with the other, and no such communication of sound from the one to the other is then possible.

I have now to bring before you, on a suitable scale, the demonstration that we can do with _light_ what has been here done with sound. For several days in 1861 I endeavoured to accomplish this, with only partial success. In iron dishes a mixture of dilute alcohol and salt was placed, and warmed so as to promote vaporization. The vapour was ignited, and through the yellow flame thus produced the beam from the electric lamp was sent; but a faint darkening only of the yellow band of a projected spectrum could be obtained. A trough was then made which, when fed with the salt and alcohol, yielded a flame ten feet thick; but the result of sending the light through this depth of flame was still unsatisfactory. Remembering that the direct combustion of sodium in a Bunsen's flame produces a yellow far more intense than that of the salt flame, and inferring that the intensity of the colour indicated the copiousness of the incandescent vapour, I sent through the flame from metallic sodium the beam of the electric lamp. The success was complete; and this experiment I wish now to repeat in your presence.[25]

Firstly then you notice, when a fragment of sodium is placed in a platinum spoon and introduced into a Bunsen's flame, an intensely yellow light is produced. It corresponds in refrangibility with the yellow band of the spectrum. Like our tuning-fork, it emits waves of a special period. When the white light from the electric lamp is sent through that flame, you will have ocular proof that the yellow flame intercepts the yellow of the spectrum; in other words, that it absorbs waves of the same period as its own, thus producing, to all intents and purposes, a dark Fraunhofer's band in the place of the yellow.

In front of the slit (at L, fig. 56) through which the beam issues is placed a Bunsen's burner (_b_) protected by a chimney (C). This beam, after passing through a lens, traverses the prism (P) (in the real experiment there was a pair of prisms), is there decomposed, and forms a vivid continuous spectrum (S S) upon the screen. Introducing a platinum spoon with its pellet of sodium into the Bunsen's flame, the pellet first fuses, colours the flame intensely yellow, and at length bursts into violent combustion. At the same moment the spectrum is furrowed by an intensely dark band (D), two inches wide and two feet long. Introducing and withdrawing the sodium flame in rapid succession, the sudden appearance and disappearance of the band of darkness is shown in a most striking manner. In contrast with the adjacent brightness this band appears absolutely black, so vigorous is the absorption. The blackness, however, is but relative, for upon the dark space falls a portion of the light of the sodium flame.

I have already referred to the experiment of Foucault; but other workers also had been engaged on the borders of this subject before it was taken up by Bunsen and Kirchhoff. With some modification I have on a former occasion used the following words regarding the precursors of the discovery of spectrum analysis, and solar chemistry:--'Mr. Talbot had observed the bright lines in the spectra of coloured flames, and both he and Sir John Herschel pointed out the possibility of making prismatic analysis a chemical test of exceeding delicacy, though not of entire certainty. More than a quarter of a century ago Dr. Miller gave drawings and descriptions of the spectra of various coloured flames. Wheatstone, with his accustomed acuteness, analyzed the light of the electric spark, and proved that the metals between which the spark passed determined the bright bands in its spectrum. In an investigation described by Kirchhoff as "classical," Swan had shown that 1/2,500,000 of a grain of sodium in a Bunsen's flame could be detected by its spectrum. He also proved the constancy of the bright lines in the spectra of hydrocarbon flames. Masson published a prize essay on the bands of the induction spark; while Van der Willigen, and more recently Plücker, have also given us beautiful drawings of spectra obtained from the same source.

'But none of these distinguished men betrayed the least knowledge of the connexion between the bright bands of the metals and the dark lines of the solar spectrum; nor could spectrum analysis be said to be placed upon anything like a safe foundation prior to the researches of Bunsen and Kirchhoff. The man who, in a published paper, came nearest to the philosophy of the subject was Ångström. In that paper, translated by myself, and published in the "Philosophical Magazine" for 1855, he indicates that the rays which a body absorbs are precisely those which, when luminous, it can emit. In another place, he speaks of one of his spectra giving the general impression of the _reversal_ of the solar spectrum. But his memoir, philosophical as it is, is distinctly marked by the uncertainty of his time. Foucault, Thomson, and Balfour Stewart have all been near the discovery, while, as already stated, it was almost hit by the acute but unpublished conjecture of Stokes.'

Mentally, as well as physically, every year of the world's age is the outgrowth and offspring of all preceding years. Science proves itself to be a genuine product of Nature by growing according to this law. We have no solution of continuity here. All great discoveries are duly prepared for in two ways; first, by other discoveries which form their prelude; and, secondly, by the sharpening of the inquiring intellect. Thus Ptolemy grew out of Hipparchus, Copernicus out of both, Kepler out of all three, and Newton out of all the four. Newton did not rise suddenly from the sea-level of the intellect to his amazing elevation. At the time that he appeared, the table-land of knowledge was already high. He juts, it is true, above the table-land, as a massive peak; still he is supported by the plateau, and a great part of his absolute height is the height of humanity in his time. It is thus with the discoveries of Kirchhoff. Much had been previously accomplished; this he mastered, and then by the force of individual genius went beyond it. He replaced uncertainty by certainty, vagueness by definiteness, confusion by order; and I do not think that Newton has a surer claim to the discoveries that have made his name immortal, than Kirchhoff has to the credit of gathering up the fragmentary knowledge of his time, of vastly extending it, and of infusing into it the life of great principles.

With one additional point we will wind up our illustrations of the principles of solar chemistry. Owing to the scattering of light by matter floating mechanically in the earth's atmosphere, the sun is seen not sharply defined, but surrounded by a luminous glare. Now, a loud noise will drown a whisper, an intense light will overpower a feeble one, and so this circumsolar glare prevents us from seeing many striking appearances round the border of the sun. The glare is abolished in total eclipses, when the moon comes between the earth and the sun, and there are then seen a series of rose-coloured protuberances, stretching sometimes tens of thousands of miles beyond the dark edge of the moon. They are described by Vassenius in the 'Philosophical Transactions' for 1733; and were probably observed even earlier than this. In 1842 they attracted great attention, and were then compared to Alpine snow-peaks reddened by the evening sun. That these prominences are flaming gas, and principally hydrogen gas, was first proved by M. Janssen during an eclipse observed in India, on the 18th of August, 1868.

But the prominences may be rendered visible in sunshine; and for a reason easily understood. You have seen in these lectures a single prism employed to produce a spectrum, and you have seen a pair of prisms employed. In the latter case, the dispersed white light, being diffused over about twice the area, had all its colours proportionately diluted. You have also seen one prism and a pair of prisms employed to produce the bands of incandescent vapours; but here the light of each band, being absolutely monochromatic, was incapable of further dispersion by the second prism, and could not therefore be weakened by such dispersion.

Apply these considerations to the circumsolar region. The glare of white light round the sun can be dispersed and weakened to any extent, by augmenting the number of prisms; while a monochromatic light, mixed with this glare, and masked by it, would retain its intensity unenfeebled by dispersion. Upon this consideration has been founded a method of observation, applied independently by M. Janssen in India and by Mr. Lockyer in England, by which the monochromatic bands of the prominences are caused to obtain the mastery, and to appear in broad daylight. By searching carefully and skilfully round the sun's rim, Mr. Lockyer has proved these prominences to be mere local juttings from a fiery envelope which entirely clasps the sun, and which he has called the _Chromosphere_.

It would lead us far beyond the object of these lectures to dwell upon the numerous interesting and important results obtained by Secchi, Respighi, Young, and other distinguished men who have worked at the chemistry of the sun and its appendages. Nor can I do more at present than make a passing reference to the excellent labours of Dr. Huggins in connexion with the fixed stars, nebulae, and comets. They, more than any others, illustrate the literal truth of the statement, that the establishment of spectrum analysis, and the explanation of Fraunhofer's lines, carried with them an immeasurable extension of the chemist's range. The truly powerful experiments of Professor Dewar are daily adding to our knowledge, while the refined researches of Capt. Abney and others are opening new fields of inquiry. But my object here is to make principles plain, rather than to follow out the details of their illustration.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION.

My desire in these lectures has been to show you, with as little breach of continuity as possible, something of the past growth and present aspect of a department of science, in which have laboured some of the greatest intellects the world has ever seen. I have sought to confer upon each experiment a distinct intellectual value, for experiments ought to be the representatives and expositors of thought--a language addressed to the eye as spoken words are to the ear. In association with its context, nothing is more impressive or instructive than a fit experiment; but, apart from its context, it rather suits the conjurer's purpose of surprise, than the purpose of education which ought to be the ruling motive of the scientific man.

And now a brief summary of our work will not be out of place. Our present mastery over the laws and phenomena of light has its origin in the desire of man to _know_. We have seen the ancients busy with this problem, but, like a child who uses his arms aimlessly, for want of the necessary muscular training, so these early men speculated vaguely and confusedly regarding natural phenomena, not having had the discipline needed to give clearness to their insight, and firmness to their grasp of principles. They assured themselves of the rectilineal propagation of light, and that the angle of incidence was equal to the angle of reflection. For more than a thousand years--I might say, indeed, for more than fifteen hundred years--the scientific intellect appears as if smitten with paralysis, the fact being that, during this time, the mental force, which might have run in the direction of science, was diverted into other directions.

The course of investigation, as regards light, was resumed in 1100 by an Arabian philosopher named Alhazen. Then it was taken up in succession by Roger Bacon, Vitellio, and Kepler. These men, though failing to detect the principles which ruled the facts, kept the fire of investigation constantly burning. Then came the fundamental discovery of Snell, that cornerstone of optics, as I have already called it, and immediately afterwards we have the application, by Descartes, of Snell's discovery to the explanation of the rainbow. Following this we have the overthrow, by Roemer, of the notion of Descartes, that light was transmitted instantaneously through space. Then came Newton's crowning experiments on the analysis and synthesis of white light, by which it was proved to be compounded of various kinds of light of different degrees of refrangibility.

Up to his demonstration of the composition of white light, Newton had been everywhere triumphant--triumphant in the heavens, triumphant on the earth, and his subsequent experimental work is, for the most part, of immortal value. But infallibility is not an attribute of man, and, soon after his discovery of the nature of white light, Newton proved himself human. He supposed that refraction and chromatic dispersion went hand in hand, and that you could not abolish the one without at the same time abolishing the other. Here Dollond corrected him.

But Newton committed a graver error than this. Science, as I sought to make clear to you in our second lecture, is only in part a thing of the senses. The roots of phenomena are embedded in a region beyond the reach of the senses, and less than the root of the matter will never satisfy the scientific mind. We find, accordingly, in this career of optics the greatest minds constantly yearning to break the bounds of the senses, and to trace phenomena to their subsensible foundation. Thus impelled, they entered the region of theory, and here Newton, though drawn from time to time towards truth, was drawn still more strongly towards error; and he made error his substantial choice. His experiments are imperishable, but his theory has passed away. For a century it stood like a dam across the course of discovery; but, as with all barriers that rest upon authority, and not upon truth, the pressure from behind increased, and eventually swept the barrier away.

In 1808 Malus, looking through Iceland spar at the sun, reflected from the window of the Luxembourg Palace in Paris, discovered the polarization of light by reflection. As stated at the time, this discovery ushered in the darkest hour in the fortunes of the wave theory. But the darkness did not continue. In 1811 Arago discovered the splendid chromatic phenomena which we have had illustrated by the deportment of plates of gypsum in polarized light; he also discovered the rotation of the plane of polarization by quartz-crystals. In 1813 Seebeck discovered the polarization of light by tourmaline. That same year Brewster discovered those magnificent bands of colour that surround the axes of biaxal crystals. In 1814 Wollaston discovered the rings of Iceland spar. All these effects, which, without a theoretic clue, would leave the human mind in a jungle of phenomena without harmony or relation, were organically connected by the theory of undulation.

The wave theory was applied and verified in all directions, Airy being especially conspicuous for the severity and conclusiveness of his proofs. A most remarkable verification fell to the lot of the late Sir William Hamilton, of Dublin, who, taking up the theory where Fresnel had left it, arrived at the conclusion that at four special points of the 'wave-surface' in double-refracting crystals, the ray was divided, not into two parts but into an infinite number of parts; forming at these points a continuous conical envelope instead of two images. No human eye had ever seen this envelope when Sir William Hamilton inferred its existence. He asked Dr. Lloyd to test experimentally the truth of his theoretic conclusion. Lloyd, taking a crystal of arragonite, and following with the most scrupulous exactness the indications of theory, cutting the crystal where theory said it ought to be cut, observing it where theory said it ought to be observed, discovered the luminous envelope which had previously been a mere idea in the mind of the mathematician.

Nevertheless this great theory of undulation, like many another truth, which in the long run has proved a blessing to humanity, had to establish, by hot conflict, its right to existence. Illustrious names were arrayed against it. It had been enunciated by Hooke, it had been expounded and applied by Huyghens, it had been defended by Euler. But they made no impression. And, indeed, the theory in their hands lacked the strength of a demonstration. It first took the form of a demonstrated verity in the hands of Thomas Young. He brought the waves of light to bear upon each other, causing them to support each other, and to extinguish each other at will. From their mutual actions he determined their lengths, and applied his knowledge in all directions. He finally showed that the difficulty of polarization yielded to the grasp of theory.

After him came Fresnel, whose transcendent mathematical abilities enabled him to give the theory a generality unattained by Young. He seized it in its entirety; followed the ether into the hearts of crystals of the most complicated structure, and into bodies subjected to strain and pressure. He showed that the facts discovered by Malus, Arago, Brewster, and Biot were so many ganglia, so to speak, of his theoretic organism, deriving from it sustenance and explanation. With a mind too strong for the body with which it was associated, that body became a wreck long before it had become old, and Fresnel died, leaving, however, behind him a name immortal in the annals of science.