36344	----	LEARN ONE THING EVERY DAY JULY 1 1916 SERIAL NO. 110 THE MENTOR THE WEATHER By C. F. TALMAN Of The United States Weather Bureau DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE $3.00 PER YEAR FIFTEEN CENTS A COPY Old Probabilities Shall tomorrow's weather be fair or foul? Blow wind--blow moistly from the South, for I go afishing. "Nay, good friend," exclaims the golfer, "the day must be dry and the wind in the west." The farmer moistens his finger and points it toward the sky. "Rain, come, quickly, for my crops," is his prayer. But the maiden's voice is full of pleading: "Let the sun shine tomorrow that my heart may be light on my wedding day." * * * * * And so, through the days and seasons, humanity with all its varied needs, turns anxiously, entreatingly to Old Probabilities. And how is it possible for him to satisfy the conflicting demand? He may, on the same day, please the farmer in the West, the fisherman in the South, the golfer in the northern hills, and the bride in the eastern town. But how can he suit them all in one locality on a single day? Old Probabilities is willing and he loves humanity, but his powers and privileges are limited. There are those who say that it is due to the kind endeavors of Old Probabilities to satisfy everybody that our weather has at times become so strangely mixed. * * * * * Old Probabilities is a gentle family name and came out of the affection of the people. The name was a matter of pleasantry. It was given to the Chief of the United States Weather Bureau when the department was first established by Congress, and its source lay in the phrase, "It is probable," with which all the weather predictions began. But Old Probabilities, genial prophet and lover of his fellow men, is passing away, for the officer who organized the Weather Bureau became in time displeased with the name and changed the form of the daily prediction so as to read, "The indications are." The phrase is formal and severe. There is naught but cold comfort in it. Our hearts turn back fondly to Old Probabilities and his friendly assurance: "It is _probable_ that tomorrow will be fair." [Illustration: Chickamauga Park, Tenn., in an Ice Storm] THE WEATHER By CHARLES FITZHUGH TALMAN _Librarian of the U. S. Weather Bureau_ THE MENTOR · DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE · JULY 1, 1916 _MENTOR GRAVURES_ CENTRAL OFFICE OF THE U. S. WEATHER BUREAU, WASHINGTON, D. C. A SIMPLE WEATHER STATION A MAJESTIC CUMULUS CLOUD THE OBSERVATORY ON MONTE ROSA LAUNCHING A METEOROLOGICAL KITE THE EFFECTS OF SNOW AND ICE--THE CAMPUS, PRINCETON UNIVERSITY [Entered as second-class matter, March 10, 1913, at the postoffice at New York, N. Y., under the act of March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1916, by The Mentor Association, Inc.] It is easy to lay too much stress upon the unimportant aspects of weather. It furnishes a bit of conversation over the teacups; it accentuates the twinges of rheumatism; it spoils a holiday. All this, however, is mere byplay. The real work of the weather--the work that explains the existence of costly weather bureaus, such as the one upon which our Government spends more than a million and a half dollars annually--is momentous beyond calculation. Consider such facts and figures as these: The head of the British Meteorological Office recently declared that bad weather costs the farmers of the British Isles about one hundred million dollars a year. In our own country it has been estimated that a difference of one inch in the rainfall occurring during July in six States means a difference of two hundred and fifty million dollars in the value of the corn (maize) crop. The world over, the damage wrought by hail-storms is said to average about two hundred million dollars a year. In the city of Galveston a single hurricane once destroyed twenty million dollars' worth of property and six thousand human lives. Thus we might proceed indefinitely. The fact is that man's welfare is conditioned to an enormous extent and in an endless variety of ways by the vicissitudes of the atmosphere; hence the study of weather--meteorology--is one of the most important of sciences. It is also one of the most strikingly neglected! At the office of the Weather Bureau in Washington there is a meteorological library of some thirty-five thousand volumes. But meteorological libraries are rare; meteorological books are scarce in other libraries; and meteorologists are so uncommon that whoever declares himself one is likely to be asked, "What _is_ a meteorologist?" [Illustration: STATIONS OF THE UNITED STATES WEATHER BUREAU Showing two extreme types: one, an office on the twenty-ninth floor of the Whitehall Building, New York City, with instruments installed on the roof; the other, an independent observatory building, with free exposure on all sides, at St. Joseph, Mo.] The "meteors" studied by the meteorologist are not shooting stars, but the phenomena of the atmosphere,--rain and snow, cloud and fog, wind and sunshine, and whatever else enters into the composition of weather and climate. THE ATMOSPHERE The ocean of air in which human beings live, even as deep-sea fishes live at the bottom of the liquid ocean, is called the _atmosphere_. Unlike the liquid ocean, it diminishes rapidly in density from the bottom upward. At an altitude of three and one-half miles it is only half as dense as at sea-level. This is higher than the highest permanent habitations of man. Mountain-climbers and balloonists have attained greater altitudes; but above a level of about five miles the air is too greatly rarefied to support life. Balloonists who ascend still higher must carry a supply of oxygen with them. A little above the ten-mile level the air is only one-eighth as dense as at sea-level. The atmosphere extends at least 300 miles above the earth, at which height its density is computed to be only one two-millionth as great as at sea-level. The weather with which human beings are concerned may be said to extend upward seven or eight miles; _i.e._, to the level of the higher clouds. The layer of the atmosphere lying between sea-level and the upper cloud level has certain characteristics that distinguish it from the air above it, and is known as the _troposphere_. The heating of the atmosphere by the sun is the beginning of all weather, and the temperature of the air is the most important weather element. As soon as we begin to study atmospheric temperature, we encounter a paradox. The heat of the air is all derived from the sun (except a minute quantity from the interior of the earth, and an infinitesimal quantity from other heavenly bodies), and it would therefore seem at first glance that the upper layers of the atmosphere should be warmer than the lower. Experience proves the reverse to be the case. A mountain overgrown with tropical vegetation on its lower slopes is, if high enough, crowned with eternal snows. A thermometer carried upward in the air shows under average conditions a fall of temperature of one degree (Fahrenheit) for every 300 feet of ascent. This fall of temperature with ascent continues to the upper limit of the troposphere, where the average temperature is something like 70 degrees below zero. [Illustration: THE NEW IDEA IN WEATHER OBSERVATORIES The Observatory of the Ebro (Spain), founded by Spanish Jesuits, is devoted to studying the interrelations of sun, earth and air. Its admirable equipment includes apparatus for the direct and spectroscopic study of the sun, for measuring solar radiation, atmospheric electricity, earth currents, terrestrial magnetism, and earthquakes; besides the ordinary routine of a meteorological observatory. The results of all these observations are published side by side, to facilitate comparison.] Above the troposphere is a region called the _stratosphere_, or _isothermal layer_, in which an ascending thermometer shows irregular and generally small changes of temperature--not infrequently a rise of temperature with ascent. The exploration of the stratosphere is one of the most fascinating fields of meteorological research, but lies somewhat beyond the scope of an essay on weather. It is carried out chiefly with the aid of small free balloons, some of which (sounding balloons) bear self-registering thermometers and other instruments, while others (pilot balloons) bear no instruments, but show by their movements the drift of the air currents. The greatest altitude ever attained by a sounding-balloon was 21.8 miles; by a pilot-balloon, 24.2 miles. The branch of meteorology dealing with the study of the upper air is called _aërology_. [Illustration: A LONELY OUTPOST ON THE VERGE OF THE ANTARCTIC The Argentine meteorological station in the South Orkneys. Once a year an expedition is sent from Buenos Aires to relieve the staff of four observers. This is the southernmost permanently inhabited spot on the globe; and it has not even wireless communication with the rest of the world.] Reverting to the temperature of man's environment, the reason why the atmosphere is warmest at the bottom is this: The sun's rays come to us from outer space in the form of vibrations in the ether, and warm the air to only a slight extent in passing through it. They are absorbed by the ground, and converted into heat waves. The air is then warmed by contact with the warm ground. Lastly, the warming of the lower air gives rise to air-currents, which distribute the heat through the atmosphere. BAROMETRIC PRESSURE If our weather were uniform, it would furnish little matter for conversation; in fact, would hardly be weather at all. Changeableness is the salient feature of weather, and to understand weather changes one must know something about barometric pressure. Like all other forms of matter, the invisible air has weight. At sea-level it exerts a downward pressure averaging 14.7 pounds to the square inch. Atmospheric pressure is measured by means of an instrument called the _barometer_, in which the weight of the air is balanced against a column of mercury. As the height of the mercurial column varies with the pressure of the air, and is taken as the measure of the latter, we follow the practice of expressing pressure (a force) in linear units (inches or millimeters). This practice is retained even in the use of the aneroid barometer, which contains no mercurial column. Hence, when we say that the average barometric pressure at sea-level is 29.92 "inches," we are really expressing in a roundabout way the weight of the air at that level. [Illustration: HOW THE CAMERA ANALYZES LIGHTNING The same flashes photographed with (_a_) a stationary camera, and (_b_) a camera revolving on a vertical axis. One of the flashes is seen to have consisted of several successive discharges along an identical path Courtesy of U. S. Bureau of Standards and Popular Science Monthly.] Barometric pressure not only varies somewhat regularly with altitude--diminishing as we ascend--but also less regularly from place to place in a horizontal direction, and from time to time at a given place. In studying the weather meteorologists frequently wish to compare the barometric pressures prevailing at a certain time at a number of places lying in the same horizontal plane. Given a system of meteorological stations scattered over a certain territory, the first step is to secure simultaneous readings of the barometers at these stations. Then, if the stations are at various altitudes, as they commonly are, corrections must be applied to the readings to reduce all to a common plane; the plane adopted for this purpose is sea-level. Since most stations are _above_ sea-level, and since atmospheric pressure diminishes with altitude, reduction to sea-level generally involves applying an _additive_ correction. THE WEATHER MAP Now please attend carefully to what follows; because I am going to attempt to put into a minimum number of words the essential facts concerning the _weather map_, the best clue to weather mysteries yet devised by man. At about 200 stations of the Weather Bureau, distributed over the United States, the barometer and other meteorological instruments are read twice a day; viz., at 8 A. M. and 8 P. M., eastern standard time. The readings are promptly telegraphed in cipher to Washington, where they are entered on a map. The barometer readings at the different stations, reduced to sea-level as just explained, will vary, say, from 29 to 31 inches. Lines, called _isobars_, are now drawn through places having the same pressure; the intervals between the lines corresponding to differences in pressure of one-tenth of an inch. Lines (_isotherms_) are also drawn to connect places having the same temperature, a little arrow at each station shows the direction of the wind at that point, and various other symbols are used to facilitate the interpretation of the map; but the isobars are more important than anything else. [Illustration: CIRRO-STRATUS The appearance of this cloud precedes by a day or so the arrival of rainy and stormy weather] [Illustration: ALTO-CUMULUS] [Illustration: FAIR WEATHER CUMULUS This cloud marks the summit of an ascending air current, and appears toward midday or early afternoon in the warm season. When the air rises powerfully to great heights, cumulus is built up in mountainous masses and may become cumulo-nimbus, the thundercloud.] Here is the weather map for the morning of January 9, 1886. The solid curved lines are isobars, representing barometric pressures ranging all the way from 28.7 to 30.8 inches. It will be seen at a glance that these lines tend to assume roughly circular forms, inclosing regions where the pressure is lower or higher than the average. Moreover, the little arrows (which "fly with the wind") show that the winds round a center of low pressure tend to blow in a direction contrary to that followed by the hands of a clock (in the southern hemisphere the reverse is true), but instead of blowing in circles are inclined somewhat inward toward the center. Round a center of high pressure (in the northern hemisphere) the typical circulation of the winds is exactly opposite ("clockwise," and inclined outward), though the accompanying map does not show this particularly well. [Illustration: WEATHER MAP JANUARY 9, 1886] An area of low pressure, with its system of winds, is called a _cyclone_, or _low_. An area of high pressure, with its system of winds, is called an _anticyclone_, or _high_. Note that a cyclone is not necessarily a storm, though the one shown on this map, with its center not far from New York City, was a very violent storm, which, when this map was drawn, was sweeping up the Atlantic coast. (Popular usage applies the term "cyclone" to the tornado.) The strength of the winds in a cyclone depends upon the contrast in barometric pressure between its center and its outer border. A cyclone with crowded isobars always has strong winds; when the isobars are widely spaced the winds are gentle. [Illustration: ASCENT OF A SOUNDING BALLOON The first made in the United States; at St. Louis, Mo., in 1904] These areas of low and high pressure, in addition to their movements about their centers, move bodily across the country, in a general west-to-east direction, at an average speed of over 500 miles a day. This double movement may be compared to that of a carriage-wheel, rotating and advancing at the same time. Most of our cyclones enter the country from the Canadian North-west--though many come from other regions--and nearly all of them pass off to sea in the neighborhood of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Their route across the country varies greatly, depending in part upon the season. [Illustration: THE KITE HOUSE AT AN AEROLOGICAL OBSERVATORY Some of the kites are much the worse for wear after flying in a storm] THE WEATHER IN CYCLONES AND ANTICYCLONES Barometric pressure is not an element of weather, in the ordinary sense of the term, since the fluctuations of pressure that occur in the human environment are entirely inappreciable to the senses. We have seen, however, that pressure is intimately related to wind, which is a weather element of much importance. In noting that systems of high and low pressure are constantly traveling across the country, and that they are accompanied by winds having fairly definite characteristics in relation to each, we have taken an important step toward bringing order out of the (to the uninitiated) chaotic sequence of weather. Obviously, a system of telegraphic weather reports makes it possible to keep close watch of these wind systems, and, from their locations on today's weather map, to form some idea where they will be tomorrow. Thus the weather forecaster is enabled to give notice of the imminence of those violent winds that destroy life and property at sea, and, to a less extent, on land. There is an element of uncertainty in such predictions--since storms, unlike railway trains, are not confined to fixed routes and regular schedules--but the practised forecaster acquires an instinct that helps him to forestall their vagaries. [Illustration: SENDING UP A METEOROLOGICAL BALLOON ON LAKE CONSTANCE Between Switzerland and Germany.] Now what is true of wind is also true to a certain extent of the other elements of weather,--they bear typical relations to the distribution of atmospheric pressure. Cyclones are usually preceded by rising temperature and accompanied by cloudiness and rain or snow; anticyclones are usually preceded by falling temperature and attended by fair weather. Referring again to the map of January 9, 1886, and following the course of the isotherms, or temperature lines, we see that abnormally cold weather prevailed over the Middle Western and Southern States. The isotherm of zero dips far south across northern Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, and Tennessee; while in the upper Mississippi and Missouri Valleys the temperatures were from 20 to 40 degrees below zero. These regions were, in fact, in the grip of a severe "cold wave," which had entered the country a day or two before, preceding the anticyclone here seen central north of Dakota. Cold northwesterly winds were sweeping over the Great Plains, and as far south as the Gulf. [Illustration: HOARFROST Minute crystals of ice deposited from the air. Under a magnifying-glass they show a variety of beautiful forms] The same map shows typical weather accompanying the cyclone central on the Atlantic coast. From the seaboard west to the Mississippi Valley rain or snow had fallen within the previous twenty-four hours (indicated by shading), and snow (indicated by S) was falling at the moment of observation at a majority of stations within this area. Elsewhere in the same region the weather was cloudy. The foregoing remarks indicate in a general way the significance of the weather map and the principles upon which scientific weather predictions are based. The endless procession of highs and lows brings to any place on the map constant alternations of heat and cold, storm and sunshine. The forecaster watches the procession, and draws his inferences as to what will happen in this or that part of the country within the next day or two (forty-eight hours is about the limit of his outlook). "Long-range" forecasting is still a thing of the remote future. Forecasts for a week in advance, are, indeed made by the Weather Bureau with the aid of reports from a chain of stations extending round the globe, but these are in very general terms. [Illustration: MARVIN RAIN AND SNOW GAGE With trumpet-shaped wind-shield at top. In the middle is seen the cylindrical collector. This is removed and weighed with its contents to ascertain the amount of rain or snow that has fallen] In January, 1914, the Bureau began publishing a "daily weather map of the Northern Hemisphere." This publication is, at present, suspended on account of the war. SOME WEATHER MISCELLANIES It would require a book, rather than a brief essay, to describe all the vicissitudes of weather, and many books that attempt to do this have been written.[A] We have space here only to mention a few important features of the weather met with in our own country. [A] See "Brief List of Meteorological Textbooks and Reference Books," 3d ed., by C. Fitzhugh Talman. For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, Washington, D. C. Price 5 cents. The southern and southeastern part of a cyclone, some hundreds of miles from the center, is a favorite breeding-ground for _thunderstorms_ and _tornadoes_. Thunderstorms of the type known as "heat thunderstorms" also occur with no special relation to cyclonic centers in regions where the ground has been intensely heated. In either case the storm is built up by rapidly ascending air, which cools and condenses its water vapor, first into enormous clouds (_cumulo-nimbus_, or "_thunderheads_"), and then into rain, frequently accompanied by hail. It would be necessary to go to some length to explain the familiar electrical manifestations of the thunderstorm--some points, indeed, are not perfectly clear to meteorologists--but it should be stated that these are always the result, not the cause, of the storm. _Lightning_ is an electrical discharge between cloud and earth, or cloud and cloud, and _thunder_ is simply the violent soundwave set up by the sudden expansion of the heated air along the path of the discharge,--the same acoustic phenomenon that accompanies an ordinary explosion. [Illustration: THE EFFECTS OF AN ICE STORM AT CANTON, N. Y. March 25-27, 1913] [Illustration: SUMMIT HOTEL AT SUMMIT, CAL. On March 18, 1911. A three-story building whose first story is buried under twenty-six feet of snow] A _tornado_ (popularly miscalled a "cyclone") is an extremely violent vortex in the air, usually less than 1,000 feet in diameter. Besides its very rapid rotary motion, it has a progressive motion at a speed averaging forty or fifty miles an hour. Its position at any moment is marked by a black funnel-shaped cloud, which grows downward from the sky and does not at all times reach the earth. A waterspout at sea is an identical phenomenon, though usually less violent. Along its narrow path the tornado demolishes everything,--wooden houses are blown to splinters, trees uprooted or stripped of their branches, structures of heavy masonry laid in ruins. Something like a hundred lives are lost each year in these storms, on an average, and one of them (St. Louis, May 27, 1896) destroyed thirteen million dollars' worth of property. [Illustration: Courtesy of the Scientific American A WATERSPOUT NEAR BEAUFORT, N. C., IN AUGUST, 1911] [Illustration: TURPAIN'S THUNDERSTORM RECORDER Or ceraunograph. This is one of several instruments designed to register the natural electric waves, or "strays," which sometimes interfere seriously with the transmission of wireless telegrams. Strays are often generated by lightning discharges, near or distant, and this instrument therefore serves to give notice of an approaching thunderstorm] A _blizzard_ is a high, cold wind, accompanied by blinding snow, which in winter sometimes blows out of the front of an advancing anticyclone, especially in our North-Central States. A similar wind, with or without snow, is called in Texas a _norther_. A _chinook_ is a warm, dry wind that descends the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains in Montana, Wyoming and Colorado, and flows north-eastward over the plains. Its effects are most pronounced in winter, when it brings about a very sudden rise in the temperature--in extreme cases as much as forty degrees in fifteen minutes! It causes snow to vanish as if by magic, and is appropriately nicknamed the "snow-eater." "_Cloudburst_" is merely a picturesque name for a very heavy shower; usually a thunder-shower. [Illustration: IN THE WAKE OF A TORNADO The tornado destroyed a house and barn, but left a path in the center with practically no harm done] _West India hurricanes_ occasionally visit the United States, especially in the late summer and early autumn. These storms begin as violent cyclones of small extent (300 to 600 miles in diameter), usually somewhere east of the West Indies, sweep in a long curve across the Caribbean Sea, and then turn north, either passing up along the Atlantic Coast or crossing the Gulf of Mexico into the southern United States. Soon after entering the temperate zone they increase in size and diminish in violence, but are still vigorous enough on reaching the Gulf or South Atlantic Coast to cause great devastation. Low-lying shores are often inundated by the immense waves they generate. _Cold waves_ are the rapid and severe falls in temperature that sometimes occur in winter, especially at the front of an anticyclone. Warnings of these occurrences, issued by the Weather Bureau twenty-four to thirty-six hours in advance, often result in the saving of millions of dollars' worth of merchandise susceptible to damage by freezing. _Frosts_ in the spring and autumn are also predicted with great success, to the immense advantage of farmers, market-gardeners, and horticulturists. The practice of smudging or heating orchards, now so widespread, is usually carried on under the advice of the Weather Bureau, which gives prompt notice to the orchardist when such precautions are in order. The bureau publishes charts showing the average and extreme dates of the last frost in spring and the first frost in autumn for all parts of the country. [Illustration: LOOKING DOWN ON A SEA OF FOG FROM MT. TAMALPAIS, CALIFORNIA] A _fog_ is a cloud resting on the surface of the earth. In the United States fog is commonest along the northern and middle parts of the Atlantic and Pacific Coasts. In the interior of the country, especially the western part, it is of rare occurrence, the average number of days a year with fog being less than ten. Lastly--weather fallacies are rife. _Indian summer_ is merely a type of mild, hazy, heavenly weather that prevails intermittently during our long American autumns. The _equinoctial storm_ is a myth; the climate has not "changed" anywhere within the span of a human lifetime (one year differs from another, but there is no progressive or permanent change); and the _moon_ has nothing whatever to do with THE WEATHER. SUPPLEMENTARY READING CLIMATE AND WEATHER _By H. N. Dickson_ AMERICAN WEATHER _By A. W. Greely_ WEATHER SCIENCE _By R. G. K. Lempfert_ SOME FACTS ABOUT THE WEATHER _By W. Marriott_ Second edition. METEOROLOGY _By W. I. Milham_ The latest general textbook on the subject in English. FORECASTING WEATHER _By W. N. Shaw_ ELEMENTARY METEOROLOGY _By F. Waldo_ Consult also the numerous publications of the United States Weather Bureau, which will be found in most public libraries. *** Information concerning the above books and articles may be had on application to the Editor of The Mentor. THE OPEN LETTER "What is lightning and what causes it?" The question came to us a few days after we had made announcement of a "Weather" number of The Mentor. It was a natural question, for lightning is the most sensational of all weather phenomena. It has always had a fearful sort of fascination for humanity. To the ancients it came as a bolt of wrath from the hand of Jove. To the fire-worshipers it was a warning message. To parched travelers it was a bright promise, for it heralded the coming of rain. To the superstitious it was a signal flash from the spirit world. And to those of nervous temperament it was a highly disturbing phenomenon producing emotions varying from uneasiness and alarm to hysteria. The question then, "What is lightning and what causes it?" has an interest for all. I referred it to Mr. Talman, the author of the Mentor article on "The Weather." His reply follows. * * * * * "Not so many generations ago 'natural philosophers' thought that inflammable gases, exhaled from the earth, took fire spontaneously in the air, and that this was lightning. The idea also prevailed--and it is not yet quite extinct--that a stroke of lightning involved the hurling down from the sky of a mass of rock, called a 'thunderbolt.' In the eighteenth century people became quite familiar with the process of generating, by friction, a mysterious something called 'electricity,' which, when it passed from one body to another through a small layer of intervening air, produced sparks. Several philosophers noticed the resemblance between these sparks and lightning. It remained, however, for Benjamin Franklin to prove that lightning was really an electrical discharge on a large scale. The experiments by which he proposed to demonstrate this were successfully performed, first by others, in France, and then, by Franklin himself, at Philadelphia. With the aid of his famous kite he drew down from a thundercloud a little of the 'electrical fluid' (as it was then called), and produced tiny sparks from an iron key at the lower end of the wet kite-string. "We do not even yet know what electricity is, but we know a great deal about the way it behaves and the effects it produces. There are two kinds of electricity, which we call _positive_ and _negative_. A body is said to be _charged_ when it has an excess of either kind, and the two kinds have a tendency to unite and neutralize each other's effects. Thunderclouds become heavily charged with electricity. We are not quite sure how this happens, but it is now commonly believed that the strong uprising currents of air that occur in the storm, in the process of breaking up the water-drops in the cloud also separate positive from negative electricity; leaving the former in excess in the part of the cloud next to the earth, and carrying the latter far aloft. "By a process called 'induction' the positive charge in the cloud draws an excess of negative electricity to the surface of the ground underneath. The stronger the contrast between these opposite charges, the harder they try to break through the interposing barrier of the air (which is a poor conductor of electricity) and to neutralize each other. At length they succeed in doing so. A powerful stream of electricity flows for an instant between cloud and earth. Its passage heats the air and makes it luminous--just as the passage of an electric current heats the filament of an electric lamp and makes it luminous. This is lightning. "These discharges occur not only between the clouds and the earth, but also, and probably more often, between clouds charged with opposite kinds of electricity. "The sudden expansion of the heated air along the path of the discharge affects our ears just as does the sudden expansion of the air at the mouth of a gun when it is fired. In each case a wave is sent through the air in all directions from the place of disturbance, and our ear-drums are set in vibration. That is thunder." * * * * * Take courage then, you timid ones, who wince in the lightning's flash and tremble under the thunder's roll. Thunder is simply a vibration of your ear drums--and, when you hear the thunder, be assured, all danger is over. [Signature: W. D. 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Every subject is carefully indexed so that the information desired may be quickly and easily found. Every member of The Mentor Association should own this index, and every member will want to own it, particularly if his or her file of back numbers is complete. The index is the same size as The Mentor and similar in style, so that it may be bound in with the numbers of The Mentor themselves. The price is twenty-five cents a copy. It would be advisable to place your order at once, as the first edition is limited. _Send all orders to_ THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION 52 EAST NINETEENTH STREET NEW YORK, N. Y. MAKE THE SPARE MOMENT COUNT CONTRIBUTORS TO THE MENTOR These are the men and women who make The Mentor--all of them eminent authorities in their special fields of knowledge. JOHN C. VAN DYKE, Professor of the History of Art, Rutgers College, and Author of many books. HAMILTON W. MABIE, Editor of The Outlook, and Author and Literary Critic. DWIGHT L. ELMENDORF, Traveler and Lecturer. ALBERT BUSHNELL HART, Professor of Government, Harvard University. DR. WILLIAM T. HORNADAY, Director of the New York Zoological Park, and Author of many nature books. ROBERT E. PEARY, Discoverer of the North Pole. PROF. CHARLES E. FAY, Tufts College, and First President of the American Alpine Club. WILLIAM WINTER, celebrated Critic and Author. JAMES HUNEKER, Author and Critic. GUSTAV KOBBÉ, Art Critic of the New York Herald, and Author of many books. LORADO TAFT, well-known American Sculptor and Author. W. J. HENDERSON, Music Critic of the New York Sun, and Author of many books. STEPHEN BONSAL, Author and War Correspondent. E. H. FORBUSH, State Ornithologist of Massachusetts, and Author of many books. BURGES JOHNSON, Professor, Vassar College, Author and Humorist. ARTHUR HOEBER, Artist, Critic and Author. DANIEL C. BEARD, Author, Artist, and celebrated Naturalist. SAMUEL ISHAM, distinguished Art Critic and Author. H. ADDINGTON BRUCE, Author of many books. PROF. C. R. RICHARDS, Director of Cooper Union, New York City. ROBERT M. McELROY, Professor of American History, Princeton University. CLARENCE WARD, Professor of Architecture, Rutgers College. IDA M. TARBELL, well-known Magazine Writer and Author of many books. HENRY T. FINCK, Music Editor of the New York Evening Post, and Author of various books. J. T. WILLING, Art Editor and Author. GEORGE W. BOTSFORD, Professor of Ancient History, Columbia University. H. E. KREHBIEL, Music Critic of the New York Tribune, and Author of various books. F. J. MATHER, Jr., Professor of Art and Archeology, Princeton University. FREDERICK PALMER, Celebrated War Correspondent, and Author of various books. HENRY WOODHOUSE, Editor of "Flying," and an authority on aeronautics. WILLIAM A. COFFIN, N. A., well-known Artist and Author. KENYON COX, N. A., distinguished Artist, Author and Instructor in art. ESTHER SINGLETON, Author of many books. WALTER PRICHARD EATON, well-known Magazine Writer and Author of various books. JOHN K. MUMFORD, Author and Expert on rugs. BELMORE H. BROWNE, Artist, Author and Explorer. FRANK WEITENKAMPF, of the New York Public Library, Expert In Prints. W. J. HOLLAND, Director of the Carnegie Museum, Pittsburgh, Pa., and distinguished Naturalist. DEAN C. WORCESTER, noted Traveler and Lecturer and Author. AYMAR EMBURY, well-known Architect and Writer on architectural subjects. C. F. TALMAN, of the United States Weather Bureau, Washington. Complete Your MENTOR LIBRARY SUBSCRIPTIONS ALWAYS BEGIN WITH THE CURRENT ISSUE The following numbers of The Mentor Course, already issued, will be sent postpaid at the rate of fifteen cents each. Serial No. 1. Beautiful Children in Art 2. Makers of American Poetry 3. Washington, the Capital 4. Beautiful Women in Art 5. Romantic Ireland 6. Masters of Music 7. Natural Wonders of America 8. Pictures We Love to Live With 9. The Conquest of the Peaks 10. Scotland, the Land of Song and Scenery 11. Cherubs in Art 12. Statues With a Story 13. Story of America in Pictures: The Discoverers 14. London 15. The Story of Panama 16. American Birds of Beauty 17. Dutch Masterpieces 18. Paris, the Incomparable 19. Flowers of Decoration 20. Makers of American Humor 21. American Sea Painters 22. Story of America in Pictures: The Explorers 23. Sporting Vacations 24. Switzerland: The Land of Scenic Splendors 25. American Novelists 26. American Landscape Painters 27. Venice, the Island City 28. The Wife in Art 29. Great American Inventors 30. Furniture and Its Makers 31. Spain and Gibraltar 32. Historic Spots of America 33. Beautiful Buildings of the World 34. Game Birds of America 35. Story of America in Pictures: The Contest for North America 36. Famous American Sculptors 37. The Conquest of the Poles 38. Napoleon 39. The Mediterranean 40. Angels in Art 41. Famous Composers 42. Egypt, the Land of Mystery 43. Story of America in Pictures: The Revolution 44. Famous English Poets 45. Makers of American Art 46. The Ruins of Rome 47. Makers of Modern Opera 48. Durer and Holbein 49. Vienna, the Queen City 50. Ancient Athens 51. The Barbizon Painters 52. Abraham Lincoln 53. George Washington 54. Mexico 55. Famous American Women Painters 56. The Conquest of the Air 57. Court Painters of France 58. Holland 59. Our Feathered Friends 60. Glacier National Park 61. Michelangelo 62. American Colonial Furniture 63. American Wild Flowers 64. Gothic Architecture 65. The Story of the Rhine 66. Shakespeare 67. American Mural Painters 68. Celebrated Animal Characters 69. Japan 70. The Story of the French Revolution 71. Rugs and Rug Making 72. Alaska 73. Charles Dickens 74. Grecian Masterpieces 75. Fathers of the Constitution 76. Masters of the Piano 77. American Historic Homes 78. Beauty Spots of India 79. Etchers and Etching 80. Oliver Cromwell 81. China 82. Favorite Trees 83. Yellowstone National Park 84. Famous Women Writers of England 85. Painters of Western Life 86. China and Pottery of Our Forefathers 87. The Story of The American Railroad 88. Butterflies 89. The Philippines 90. Great Galleries of the World: The Louvre 91. William M. Thackeray 92. Grand Canyon of Arizona 93. Architecture in American Country Homes 94. The Story of The Danube 95. Animals in Art 96. The Holy Land 97. John Milton 98. Joan Of Arc 99. Furniture of the Revolutionary Period 100. The Ring of the Nibelung 101. The Golden Age of Greece 102. Chinese Rugs 103. The War of 1812 104. Great Galleries of the World: The National Gallery, London 105. Masters of the Violin 106. American Pioneer Prose Writers 107. Old Silver 108. Shakespeare's Country 109. Historic Gardens of New England NUMBERS TO FOLLOW July 15. AMERICAN POETS OF THE SOIL. _By Burges Johnson, Associate Professor of Literature, Vassar College._ August 1. ARGENTINA. _By E. M. Newman, Lecturer and Traveler._ * * * * * [Illustration: CENTRAL OFFICE OF THE UNITED STATES WEATHER BUREAU, WASHINGTON, D. C.] WEATHER SERVICES AT HOME AND ABROAD Monograph Number One in The Mentor Reading Course Posted up in public offices, in hotel corridors, and other conspicuous places in our cities, the official weather map is a familiar sight. Even more familiar is the official weather forecast, displayed, as a rule, on the first page of the daily newspaper, and sent broadcast over the country on the little brown cards which one may see in the village postoffice as well as in the city drug-store. When a great storm sweeps over land or sea, detailed official reports concerning its progress and characteristics are published in the daily press. When a lawsuit involves a dispute as to the temperature or the state of the sky on a certain day, the official weather records are consulted. How much do you know about the branch of the national government that is charged with the duty of keeping watch of the weather--recording its vagaries as they occur, and also predicting them, as far as is humanly possible? Besides its office in Washington, where more than two hundred persons are constantly employed, the Weather Bureau has about two hundred stations, manned by professional meteorologists and observers. One of these will be found in almost every large city, while some are in towns of very modest importance. A regular Weather Bureau station is well worth a visit. The instrumental equipment of these stations is almost superhuman in the accuracy with which it sets down on paper the chronicle of weather happenings from day to day and from moment to moment. Little less marvelous is the system by means of which weather information--past, present and future--is disseminated from these official foci. The postoffice, the telephone, the telegraph (wire and wireless) are all pressed into service to the fullest extent--especially in giving timely notice of approaching storms and other destructive forms of weather. These agencies are supplemented by visible and audible signals, in the shape of flags, lanterns, railway whistles and so forth. Contrary to popular belief, the Weather Bureau does not exist primarily for the purpose of telling the public (with a considerable margin of uncertainty) whether it will be advisable, on the morrow, to carry an umbrella or wear an overcoat. The important work of the Bureau is twofold. It consists, first, in the prediction of those atmospheric visitations, such as storms, floods, and cold waves, which endanger life and property on a large scale; and, second, in the maintenance of the records that form the basis of climatic statistics. In both these directions the Bureau splendidly justifies its existence. Our national weather service was founded in 1870, and for twenty years was maintained by the Signal Corps of the Army. In 1890 it was established on the present basis, as the Weather Bureau of the Department of Agriculture. Most civilized countries possess official services for the observation and prediction of weather, though no other is organized on quite so grandiose a scale as ours. The British Meteorological Office, the Prussian Meteorological Institute, the Central Meteorological Bureau of France, and the Central Physical Observatory of Petrograd are among the leading institutions of this character in the Old World. Admirable weather services also exist in India, Japan, Australia, Canada, Argentina and elsewhere. [Illustration: A SIMPLE WEATHER STATION] METEOROLOGICAL INSTRUMENTS Monograph Number Two in The Mentor Reading Course The history of meteorological instruments dates back at least as far as the fourth century before the Christian era, when the depth of rainfall was measured in India by some form of gauge. We again hear of rain-gauges being used in Palestine in the first century of the present era. Thermometers with fixed scales were used in Italy in the seventeenth century, and the great Galileo, born in Pisa in 1564, took part in perfecting these instruments. Wind-vanes were known to the ancients. The earliest one of which we have any record surmounted the famous Tower of the Winds at Athens. In the Middle Ages the weathercock became the usual adornment of church steeples. The barometer was invented by Torricelli in 1643. Most meteorological instruments, however, are of quite recent origin, and this is true especially of these types of apparatus that make automatic records, thus replacing, to a large extent, the human observer. Our picture on the other side of this sheet shows the instruments used by the "co-operative" observers of the Weather Bureau. These observers, of whom there are about 4,500, well distributed over the country, serve the government without pay, and their painstaking observations have alone made possible a detailed survey of our climate. In the picture we see, on the right, an ordinary rain-gauge, and, on the left, a thermometer-screen containing two thermometers; viz., a maximum thermometer, for recording the highest temperature of the day, and a minimum thermometer, for recording the lowest. The screen, which is of wood, painted white, serves to shield the instruments from the rays of the sun, while permitting free ventilation. Under these conditions the thermometers show the temperature of the _air_; whereas when exposed to direct sunlight a thermometer shows the temperature acquired by the instrument itself, and this may differ materially from the air temperature. In contrast to this simple equipment, we find at a regular meteorological station, or observatory, an impressive collection of apparatus for observing and recording nearly all the elements of weather. The pressure of the air is measured by the mercurial barometer, and registered continuously by the barograph; the temperature of the air is automatically recorded by the thermograph. Other self-registering instruments maintain continuous records of the force and direction of the wind, the amount and duration of rainfall, the duration of sunshine, the humidity of the air, etc. There are also instruments for measuring evaporation, the height and movement of clouds, the intensity of solar radiation, the elements of atmospheric electricity, and various other phenomena of the atmosphere. [Illustration: A MAJESTIC CUMULUS CLOUD] CLOUDS AND RAINFALL Monograph Number Three in The Mentor Reading Course The International Cloud Classification, now generally used by meteorologists, is an amplification of one introduced by an ingenious English Quaker, Luke Howard, in the year 1803. Howard distinguished seven types of cloud, to which he gave the Latin names _cirrus_, _cumulus_, _stratus_, _cirro-cumulus_, _cirro-stratus_, _cumulo-stratus_, and _nimbus_. In passing, it may be of interest to note that, a few years after Howard's classification was published, an attempt was made by one Thomas Forster to introduce "popular" equivalents of these terms. Forster proposed to call cirrus "curlcloud," cumulus "stackencloud," stratus "fallcloud," etc. In other words, he assumed that because Howard's names were Latin in form they were unsuitable for use by the layman, and therefore needed to be supplemented by English names--although the proposed substitutes were, on the whole, somewhat longer and more difficult to pronounce than the originals! A parallel undertaking would be an attempt to discourage the public from calling the wind-flower "anemone," or virgin's bower "clematis." Forster's superfluous names have never taken root in our language. The highest clouds--cirrus and cirro-stratus--are feathery in appearance, and consist of minute crystals of ice. Their altitude above sea-level averages about five miles, but is frequently much greater than this. All other clouds are composed of little drops of water--not hollow vesicles of water, as was once supposed. Neither crystals nor drops actually "float" in the air. They are constantly falling with respect to the air around them, though, as the air itself often has an upward movement, the cloud particles are not always falling with reference to the earth. In any case, their rate of fall depends upon their size, and in the case of the smaller particles is very slow. Under some conditions the particles evaporate before reaching the earth, while under others they maintain a solid or liquid form and constitute rain or snow. A fog is a cloud lying at the earth's surface. Rainfall is one of the most important elements of climate, chiefly because of its effects upon vegetation. It is measured in terms of the depth of water that would lie on the ground if none of it ran off, soaked in, or evaporated; and this is, in practice, determined by collecting the rain, as it falls, in a suitable receiver, or rain-gauge. Usually the gauge is so shaped as to magnify the actual depth of rainfall, in order to facilitate measurement. Snow is measured in two ways; first, as snow, and, second, in terms of its "water equivalent." The latter measurement is commonly effected by melting the snow and pouring it into the rain-gauge, where it is measured as rain. By this expedient we are enabled to combine measurements of rain and snow, in order to get the total "precipitation" of a place during a given period. Nature is notoriously partial in her distribution of this valuable element over the earth. A region having an average annual rainfall of less than ten inches is normally a desert, though irrigation or "dry-farming" methods may enable its inhabitants to practice agriculture. The heaviest average annual rainfall in the United States (not including Alaska) is about 136 inches, in Tillamook County, Oregon. The rainiest meteorological station in the world is Cherrapunji, India, with an average of about 426 inches per annum.[B] [B] This is the latest official record. There are several rain-gauges at Cherrapunji, and the average amount of rain collected by any one of them varies considerably with the length of the record. Hence the widely divergent values of the rainfall at this famous station published in encyclopædias and other reference books. [Illustration: THE OBSERVATORY ON MONTE ROSA] THE OUTPOSTS OF METEOROLOGY Monograph Number Four in The Mentor Reading Course The expression used in our title seems a fitting one to apply to a number of meteorological observatories and stations maintained for the benefit of science in regions remote from the comforts and conveniences of civilization. Some are on the summits of lofty mountains, the ascent of which is laborious and even perilous. Others are situated in the bleak wildernesses of the circumpolar zones. Public attention has all too rarely been called to the heroism and self-sacrifice of the men who constitute the staffs of these lonely outposts. The institution shown in our gravure--officially known, in honor of the Dowager Queen of Italy, as the Regina Margherita Observatory--crowns the summit of Monte Rosa, on the northern Italian frontier, and is 14,960 feet above sea-level. It is devoted not only to meteorological investigations, but to studies of the physiological effects of great altitudes and various other researches, and is open to the _savants_ of all nationalities who are courageous enough to scale the second highest summit of the Alps. It is habitable for only about two months; viz., from the middle of July to the middle of September. Each year a temporary telephone line is constructed connecting the observatory with the plains of Italy. This is the highest telephone line in the world, and its installation is an arduous undertaking. A permanent line is impossible, on account of the shifting of the glaciers and snowfields on which the poles must be erected. There is also a meteorological observatory on Mont Blanc, but it is not at the summit and is not quite so high as that on Monte Rosa. The solar observatory which once stood at the very top of Mont Blanc no longer exists. The United States Signal Service (now the Weather Bureau) formerly maintained observatories on Pike's Peak (14,134 feet) and Mount Washington (6,280 feet). The loftiest of meteorological stations was, however, that formerly operated by Harvard College Observatory on the summit of El Misti, Peru (19,200 feet). For a number of years the United States Weather Bureau maintained a large and important observatory at Mount Weather, at the crest of the Blue Ridge, near Bluemont, Virginia. In the Old World one of the most famous of mountain meteorological observatories was that which stood on Ben Nevis (4,406), the highest summit in the British Isles. This was closed in 1904. If the conditions of life at these high-level stations are such as to repel any but the ardent lover of science, the same is true in even greater measure of those endured by the little band of meteorologists who man the observatory maintained by the government of Argentina at Laurie Island, in the South Orkneys, on the verge of the Antarctic. Every year a party of four is sent out from Buenos Aires to spend a year of exile in this inhospitable spot, which is generally ice-bound, and has not even wireless communication with the rest of the world. This station has been in operation since 1904. The staff, which is changed each year, has embraced men of several nationalities--Scotch, American and others. Far within the Arctic Circle two meteorological observatories are maintained in Spitsbergen; but these are, at least, connected with the world by radiotelegraphy. If the hopes of explorer Peary are accomplished, an observatory will, one of these days, be established at the South Pole. [Illustration: LAUNCHING A METEOROLOGICAL KITE] THE AIR ABOVE US Monograph Number Five in The Mentor Reading Course Meteorologists are not content to limit their investigations to the stratum of air lying close to the earth's surface. Even before the demands of the aeronaut for information concerning the structure and phenomena of the atmosphere far overhead became pressing, many efforts had been made to secure such information, in view of its important bearing upon many scientific problems. As long ago as the year 1784 a balloonist, equipped with various meteorological instruments, made an ascent from London and brought back an interesting series of observations, which were communicated to the Royal Society. For more than a century the manned balloon was the principal means of sounding the upper atmosphere. Nowadays, as a rule, the meteorologist, instead of going aloft in person, sends up a kite or a balloon to which are attached automatically registering instruments. When the aerial vehicle returns to earth its record shows in detail the conditions encountered during the journey. Everybody remembers how Franklin brought lightning from the clouds; but it is a far cry from the simple apparatus that served Franklin's purpose to the "box kite" of modern meteorology. Science has perfected the kite almost beyond recognition. It has been shorn of that crucial feature of the schoolboy article, the tail. Even the kite "string" has become several miles of steel piano wire, wound around the drum of a power-driven winch, with elaborate apparatus for recording the force of the pull, and the angles of azimuth and altitude. Captive balloons are sometimes used for similar investigations. When, however, it is desired to attain great altitudes the meteorologist has recourse to the so-called "sounding-balloon," which is not tethered to the earth. This is usually made of india-rubber, and when launched is inflated to less than its full capacity. As it rises to regions of diminished air pressure it gradually expands, and finally bursts at an elevation approximately determined in advance. A linen cap, serving as a parachute, or sometimes an auxiliary balloon which does not burst, serves to waft the apparatus, with its delicate self-registering instruments, gently to the ground. This commonly happens many miles--sometimes two hundred or more--from the place of ascent. Attached to the apparatus is a ticket offering the finder a reward for its return, and giving instructions as to packing and shipping. Sooner or later it usually comes back; though often months after it falls. Indeed, the large percentage of records recovered, even in sparsely settled countries, is not the least remarkable feature of this novel method of research. The instruments attached to sounding-balloons register the temperature of the air, the barometric pressure, and sometimes the humidity. By means of the sounding-balloon the air is explored to heights of twenty miles and more! The records obtained by means of these balloons have, within the past fifteen years, completely revolutionized our ideas concerning the upper atmosphere. Still another device employed by meteorologists is the pilot-balloon. This is also a free balloon, but carries no meteorological instruments. Its motion in the air is followed by means of a theodolite, and it serves to show the speed and direction of the wind at different levels. During the winter of 1912-13 a pilot-balloon sent up from Godhavn, Greenland, by a Danish exploring expedition reached the unprecedented altitude of more than 24 miles. [Illustration: THE EFFECTS OF SNOW AND ICE--THE CAMPUS, PRINCETON UNIVERSITY] OUR WINTERS Monograph Number Six in The Mentor Reading Course In the year 1781 Thomas Jefferson wrote in his "Notes on Virginia": "A change of climate is taking place very sensibly. *** Snows are less frequent and less deep. They do not often lie below the mountains more than one, two or three days, and very rarely a week. The snows are remembered to have been formerly frequent, deep, and of long continuance. The elderly inform me that the earth used to be covered with snow about three months in every year." Probably long before the white man came to America the patriarchs of the Indian tribes regaled the young men and maidens gathered about the campfire with reminiscences of the deep snows that prevailed in a previous generation. In short the "old-fashioned winter" is a _perennial myth_, perpetuated by a familiar process of self-delusion! The occasional periods of abundant snow make a more lasting impression upon our minds than the long intervals in which this element was scarce or lacking. The resulting misconception is promptly dissipated when we consult the weather records, which, in some parts of the country, extend back more than a century, and prove that there has been no actual change in the climate within the period they embrace. Of course the erroneous idea is, in some cases, due to the fact that one's childhood was spent in a part of the country in which the snowfall is normally heavier than in that where one has recently lived. The average yearly snowfall over the New England States, New York, and the borders of the Great Lakes is from 50 to 100 inches, and upward. Over the North Central States it is much less. In the Southern tier of States and along almost the whole of our Pacific coast snow is a rarity. The heaviest snowfall in this country probably occurs in the high Sierra Nevada of California, near the border of Nevada. In some places in these mountains more than 40 feet of snow falls in an average winter, while more than 65 feet has been recorded in extreme cases. Here it is a common occurrence for one-story houses to be buried, to the eaves, or above. The Southern Pacific Railway, which intersects this region, has built 32 miles of snowsheds, at a cost of $42,000 a mile over single track and $65,000 a mile over double track. In an average year $150,000 is spent on these sheds in upkeep and renewals. Flat-roofed houses are unknown in this vicinity; all roofs are gabled at a sharp angle to shed the snow. A picturesque feature of our American winters is the "ice storm," so enthusiastically described by Mark Twain: "... When a leafless tree is clothed with ice from the bottom to the top--ice that is as bright and clear as crystal; when every bough and twig is strung with ice-beads, frozen dew-drops, and the whole tree sparkles cold and white, like the Shah of Persia's diamond plume." Such is the artist's view of the phenomenon; but, alas! these same ice storms cause endless inconvenience and heavy expense every winter to the electrical industries, by breaking wires. PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 4, No. 10, SERIAL No. 110 COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC. 
38072	----	WIND AND WEATHER [Illustration: Logo] THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO [Illustration: HOW THE WIND RUFFLES THE TOP OF A FOG BANK _Frontispiece_] WIND AND WEATHER BY ALEXANDER McADIE A. Lawrence Rotch Professor of Meteorology, Harvard University and Director of the Blue Hill Observatory New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1922 _All rights reserved_ Copyright, 1922, By ALEXANDER McADIE. Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1922. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS HOW THE WIND RUFFLES THE TOP OF A FOG BANK _Frontispiece_ PAGE FIG. 1. THE TOWER OF THE WINDS 13 " 2. BOREAS--THE NORTH WIND 19 " 3. KAIKIAS--THE NORTHEAST WIND 23 " 4. APHELIOTES--THE EAST WIND 29 " 5. EUROS--THE SOUTHEAST WIND 33 " 6. NOTOS--THE SOUTH WIND 37 " 7. LIPS--THE SOUTHWEST WIND 41 " 8. ALL STORMS LEAD TO NEW ENGLAND 45 " 9. ZEPHYROS--THE WEST WIND 49 " 10. PATHS OF HIGH AND LOW, JANUARY, 1922 55 " 11. SKIRON--THE NORTHWEST WIND 59 " 12. THE IDEALIZED STORM 63 " 13. TURNING OF WIND WITH ALTITUDE 67 " 14. VELOCITY OF SUMMER AND WINTER WINDS 73 " 15. BLUE HILL OBSERVATORY IN AN ICE STORM 79 WIND AND WEATHER THE TOWER OF THE WINDS In Athens on the north side and near the base of the hill on which the upper city--the Acropolis--is built, there is a small temple still standing, altho its walls were completed twenty-two centuries ago. It is known as the Tower of the Winds; but as a matter of fact, the citizens of Athens used it to tell the hour of the day and the seasonal position of the sun. It was a public timepiece. It served as a huge sun dial. Water from a spring on the hillside filled the basins of a water clock in the basement of the Tower. And so, whether the day was clear or cloudy the measure of the outflow of water indicated the time elapsed. Also there were markings or dials on each of the eight walls of the temple, and the position of the shadow of a marker indicated the seasonal advance or retreat of the sun as it moved north from the time of the winter solstice and then south after the summer solstice. The sun is not an accurate time keeper and no one to-day runs his business or keeps engagements on sun time. But the old Athenians were quite content to do so; and their Tower served excellently for their needs. And they did what we moderns fail to do, namely, give distinctive names to the winds. They represented figuratively the characteristics of the weather as the wind blew from each of the eight cardinal directions. [Illustration: FIG. 1. THE TOWER OF THE WINDS Erected in Athens, on the north side of the Acropolis, B. C. 150] The allegorical figures of the winds used in this little book are reproductions of the eight bas-reliefs in the library of the Blue Hill Observatory, placed there by the late Professor A. Lawrence Rotch. They are copied from the frieze of the Tower of the Winds at Athens. THE NAMES OF THE WINDS Boreas, the north wind, is perhaps the most important of all winds. At Athens this a cold, boisterous wind from the mountains of Thrace. The noise of the gusts is so loud that the Greek sculptor symbolized the tumult by placing a conch shell in the mouth of Boreas. His modern namesake, the Bora of the Adriatic, is the same noisy, blustering, cold wind-rush from the north. The northeast wind Kaikias is a trifle more pleasant looking than Boreas, but still not much to brag about. Master of the squall and thunderstorm, he carries in his shield an ample supply of hailstones, ready to spill them on defenseless humanity. He might well serve as the patron saint of air raiders dropping their bombs on helpless humans below. Apheliotes, the east wind, is a graceful youth, with arms full of flowers, fruit and wheat. Naturally this was a favorite wind, blowing in from the sea, with frequent light showers. Some of us who dwell on the Atlantic Coast, in more northern latitudes than Athens, do not always regard with favor the east wind, associating it with chilly, damp and sombre weather. Yet it is the harbinger of good--tempering the cold of winter and the heat of summer. It is an angel of mercy in mid-summer when the temperature is above the nineties and there is no air stirring. Then it is, that we all welcome the refreshing wind from the sea. Euros, the southeast wind, and neighbor to Apheliotes, is a cross old fellow, intent on the business of cloud making. He alone of all the winds carries nothing in his hands. In the New Testament he becomes Euroclydon, wind of the waves. He is no friend of the sailor; and the seasick traveler prays to be rid of his company. The figure on the south face of the tower, Notos, is the master of the warm rain. He carries with him a water jar which has just been emptied. Compare his light flowing robes and half-clad neck and arms with the close fitting jacket of old Boreas. At his shrine, hydraulic engineers well might worship. Next, the Mariner's wind, Lips, the southwest favoring breeze bringing the ships speedily into harbor; yes, into that Piraeus, famed in classic history. Incidentally it is the southwest wind which differentiates the climate of Great Britain from that of Labrador. This wind makes Northwest Europe habitable; while on the other side of the Atlantic, in similar latitudes, but under the influence of prevailing northwest winds, we find Labrador--a section certainly misnamed, for it is not the abode of farmers, as the name implies--but barren and bleak. What a difference it would make thruout this region if the Gulf Stream continued north, close to the shore, and the prevailing winds were _from the east_. Our North Atlantic Coast would then be _the land of zephyrs_, using the word in the sense of pleasant, gentle winds. [Illustration: FIG. 2. BOREAS--THE NORTH WIND] Zephyros, the west wind, is represented as a graceful youth, scantily clad, with his arms filled with flowers. In Greece this wind traversed the Ionian Sea and the Gulf of Corinth before reaching Athens. It is quite unlike our west wind which blows across a continent, and is continuously robbed of its water vapor on the long passage. The Ionian wind is pleasantly moist and refreshing. Last of all, but by no means least important, is Skiron, lord of gusty northwest gales. Freezing in winter, parching in summer, he carries with him a brazen fire basket and spills a generous stream of hot air on all below. His husky Highness might not inappropriately adorn legislative halls and editorial sanctums. He would displace the blindfolded lady holding scales very much out of balance. Think of the deep significance of his presence. In our country the northwest is of all winds, except the west, most persistent. For 1600 hours in a year, this wind is with us. Joining forces with the west wind, these directions prevail one third of the time. These northwest-west winds also have the greatest speed and gustiness. The climate of the United States is essentially determined by the prevalence of the north, northwest and west winds. FORECASTING THE WEATHER In old days, the _haruspices_ (for this is what the Romans called weather men in the days of Caesar) proclaimed the will of the gods by consulting the entrails of some freshly killed animal. Evidently these haruspices did not always make correct forecasts; for there were some Romans who openly questioned their worth. Cato, the Censor, is on record as saying "that he wondered how one haruspex could look another in the face without laughing!" [Illustration: FIG. 3. KAIKIAS--THE NORTHEAST WIND] The modern professional forecaster would scorn to consult the entrails. There are however many amateur forecasters who foretell weather by their aches and rheumatic pains. Probably there is a high correlation factor between body sensations and dampness; and some individuals are quite sensitive to changes in both relative and absolute humidity. This, however, does not always mean that a storm is approaching. Humidity or dampness is only one factor and may be quite local, whereas most storms are wide-spread. THE WEATHER MAP The official forecaster consults a daily weather map and certain auxiliary maps which show changes in pressure and temperature for twelve hours or more. He examines closely the contours of pressure as shown on the map. The synoptic map, as it is called, because it is a glance at weather conditions over a large area at one and the same moment, is a map on which are plotted pressure, temperature, wind direction, velocity and rainfall. The lines of equal pressure or isobars generally curve and inclose what is known as a cyclonic centre, or depression or LOW. The arrows point in, but not exactly toward the centre of the depression. On the map there will probably appear also an area of high pressure where the surface air flows leisurely outward and away from the place of highest pressure. Such an area is called an anticyclone, a word first used by Sir Francis Galton in 1863 to designate not only high pressure, but general flow of the air in a reversed or opposite direction to that of the low area or cyclone. The word cyclone was first used by Piddington in 1843 in describing the flow of the air in the typhoons of the East Indian Seas. It is from the Greek and literally means the coils of a serpent. The word cyclone must possess some special merit in the minds of journalists for it is quite commonly misused for tornado in descriptions of the smaller and more destructive storm. THE LOW Cyclone is simply the generic name for a large rotating air mass. It is a barometric depression or LOW and is characterized by a flow of air inward and around a moving centre. The air circulation is counter-clockwise in the northern hemisphere and clockwise in the south. Perhaps if the earth stopped rotating and there was no planetary circulation, with the great west-moving trades and east-moving "westerlies," the arrows on the weather map would all point directly toward the centre of the LOW; but, as things are, there are some very good reasons why air can not move directly into a LOW, that is at right angles to the isobars. Moreover, the weather map does not indicate the true flow of the air, for observations of the wind made at the ground tell only a part of the story of the balance which the flowing air must maintain under the action of various forces, such as gravitation, rotational deflection, centrifugal tendency, and the various expansion and compression forces. The winds near the ground are modified both in velocity and direction by friction. The free flow is often interfered with by topography. THE TRUE AIR FLOW One must rise above the ground some distance to get the true air flow, or what is known as the gradient wind, the flow which balances the gradient, i.e. a flow along the isobars. The gradient velocity is found about 300 metres above the ground, and the gradient direction a little higher. The lower clouds as a rule indicate true wind values very well; and so, it is desirable in studying winds to use cloud directions and velocities rather than surface values. In cloud work a nephoscope is essential. The unaided eye, unless properly shielded, suffers from the glare of a sunlit sky; and moreover, there are no fixed points or references. A black mirror, with suitable sighting rods and measuring devices, enables an observer to follow the cloud, estimate its height and determine with accuracy the direction from which it is moving. There is an average difference of 30 degrees between the cloud direction and the surface wind; the upper direction being more to the right. At times the directions may be opposite. [Illustration: FIG. 4. APHELIOTES--THE EAST WIND] It may seem surprising but few of us, except at sunrise and sunset, really see what is going on in cloud land. Some meteorologists hold that the circulation of air 3000 to 5000 metres above the ground controls the path and perhaps the intensity of storms. It is therefore important to know something of the flow at high levels if we would improve the forecasts. LIMITATIONS OF MAP The weather map fails to indicate what shifts of direction and changes in velocity are likely to occur. The forecaster tries to anticipate these, but he bases his conclusions chiefly upon an expected movement of the low area; using the accumulated records of the paths of past storms. But each storm is in reality a law unto itself; and while we know something of the relations between pressure and flow of the air; as yet we know very little about the relations of wind and weather. The problem is complicated by the behavior of the load of water vapor. [Illustration: FIG. 5. EUROS--THE SOUTHEAST WIND] The Chief Forecaster of one of the great national weather services recently wrote: "Despite the fact that maps have now been drawn day by day for over half a century, we may safely say that no two maps have been identical." It is perhaps unfortunate that so much attention has been given to the cyclone or depression or LOW, and comparatively little to the HIGH or anticyclone. For we are now beginning to understand that while there may seem at first to be nothing specially noteworthy about a mass of air where the pressure varies from 1020 to 1040 kilobars, that is, 2 to 4 per cent _above_ a standard atmosphere, with isobars irregularly curved and feeble surface winds, yet the anticyclone is more important than the cyclone in determining weather sequence; for the progressive motion of the cyclone depends largely upon the strength of the anticyclone. OCEAN STORMS Sir Napier Shaw, who has written much on the weather of the British Isles, may be quoted here. "Anyone who is interested in the weather is always on the lookout for 'lows' and is very keen to know whether he is going to be on the south of the centre or the north of it. He is, of course, interested in the anticyclone too, because as long as an anticyclone is there, there cannot be a depression; but it is the depression which has the life and movement about it, giving it a claim to the attention of everybody who wants to know what the weather and its changes are going to be. "This has been recognized from the very earliest days of weather maps with isobars. The depressions which pass over our shores (Great Britain) mostly come from the west. Some of them come all the way from America; one or two have been traced from the west coast of Africa and so have crossed the Atlantic twice, first to the westward and then to the eastward. Some have come all the way from a sort of parent 'low' in the North Pacific Ocean. So general is the tendency for 'lows' to go eastward that it was thought at one time, particularly by the 'New York Herald,' that their departure from the American Coast and subsequent arrival on our own shores could be notified by cable, and we (the British) might thus be forewarned of their approach, some three or four days in advance. The attempt was made by the 'New York Herald' acting in co-operation with the Meteorological Offices of the United Kingdom and France. But a depression keeps to no beaten track; it has as many paths for its centre as there are lines in a bundle of hay. Though groups can be picked out there are many strays, and, moreover, the depression changes its shape and intensity while it travels, so that if you lose sight of it for a day you cannot be at all sure of its identity." [Illustration: FIG. 6. NOTOS--THE SOUTH WIND] TRANSCONTINENTAL STORMS If there is so much uncertainty in forecasting the path of a disturbance at sea, how much more uncertain must it be on land? Elaborate statistics of the average daily movement of various types of storms have been officially published. The average speed of storms (not wind speeds) across the United States is 11 metres per second or 25 miles an hour. Storms travel more rapidly in winter than in summer, about half again as fast; that is, summer storms travel 20 miles, and winter storms 30 miles, an hour. [Illustration: FIG. 7. LIPS--THE SOUTHWEST WIND] The paths vary widely; from the Gulf storms moving northeast and West Indian hurricanes recurving on the southern coast, to the storms from Alberta and the west which move south and east. Ten types of storms, classified according to the place of origin, are recognized by the official forecasters of the United States. These are North Pacific, Alberta, Northern Rocky Mountain, Colorado, Central, South Pacific, Texas, East Gulf, South Atlantic and West Indian Hurricanes. A better nomenclature would be (1) Alberta, (2) Washington, (3) Kootenay, (4) Utah, (5) Kansas, (6) California, (7) Texas, (8) Louisiana, (9) Florida, and (10) Hurricanes. HURRICANES Type 10 is the general class of tropical storms occurring chiefly in the summer and fall which, drifting west, slowly work northward. Similar storms are the typhoons and baguios of the East Indian and China Seas. The path and point of recurvature will be determined by the position of the Bermuda Hyperbar, that is, the seasonal anticyclone of the Atlantic. This accounts for the swinging east and north of these tracks as the season progresses; for the hyperbar is slowly displaced east, the maximum displacement occurring in September. [Illustration: BASE MAP BY GOODE FIG. 8. ALL STORMS LEAD TO NEW ENGLAND] Individual anticyclones also influence individual hurricanes. Thus a hurricane passing west over Havana, will go farther west if a vigorous "high" is spreading southeast over the Gulf States. And when this "high" passes seaward, the hurricane will work around the southwest quadrant of the "high," recurving and moving northeast. STORM RENDEZVOUS Altho storms originate or are first detected in nine different sections, it is a fact worth mentioning that they all leave the United States in the vicinity of New England or Nova Scotia. Some of the southern depressions starting near the coast, pass to sea south of New York, but in general an observer standing on Plymouth Rock can virtually encompass within a radius of 500 kilometres, 300 miles, the paths of ninety per cent of the storms that traverse the country. Thus a storm that originates in Texas (7) will probably pass close to Cape Cod. Likewise, types (3) and (5); while the other types may pass a little to the north or south. See Chart, Paths of Storms. STORM PATHS Forecasting then would seem to be very easy; for one would only have to know the place of origin of the storm and the rate of travel, to foretell exactly the time of arrival. Unfortunately these are only the average paths; and as with most mean values, represent a value not often experienced in fact. These paths then are not paths which any given storm will follow. One must recall the story of the operating surgeon who gave the average age of his patients in the operating room as 35. There were but two patients, one 69 years old and the other 1 year old. [Illustration: FIG. 9. ZEPHYROS--THE WEST WIND] As a matter of fact the path of any individual depression depends upon several factors, some of which are:--the prevailing eastward drift of the air; the extent and motion of some anticyclone advancing before the "LOW"; the duration and speed of relatively dry cold tongues of air from the north; and the supply of water vapor brought from southern waters by south winds. A depression can make little headway if to the north or east the normal path is blocked by what is known as a stagnant "HIGH." So therefore, if the anticyclone is a slow mover, a Texas storm, which would normally pass not far from southern New England, may be deflected farther north than when the HIGH moved rapidly east. So too, with the storms which originate in the western part of the country. A slow moving HIGH will prevent the LOW following it, from moving east at a normal rate along the usual path. Anticyclones then, are the real weather controls. There are various types, but all drift from the north or west. Occasionally they enter the country from the Pacific, but the great majority come from Alberta and move leisurely southeast, often reaching the South Atlantic States; but more frequently recurving and passing to the north. STAGNANT HIGHS HIGHS are sometimes reinforced and this results in what is called a stagnant HIGH. A good illustration of such a slow moving HIGH and its consequences occurred during the last week of January, 1922. A surge of cold air from Alberta or farther north reached the international boundary January 21st and spread slowly eastward, reaching the Great Lakes on the 24th and the St. Lawrence Valley two days later. Then seemingly it halted or moved slowly westward, retrograding. In three days, that is, on the 29th, the centre of the HIGH was apparently 500 miles _west_ of where it had been on the 27th. After the 29th it followed a normal track, moving slowly southeast, reaching the Atlantic near Long Island. Meanwhile a depression on the south coast of Texas on the 25th, moved across the Gulf of Mexico, passing over Southern Florida on the 27th and advanced steadily northeast, reaching Cape Hatteras in 24 hours. Owing to the presence of the anticyclone referred to above, the depression recurved off Hatteras. The result was a memorable snow storm in Northern Virginia and Maryland. At 8 p.m. January 27th, there had been a fall of 5 cms. (2 inches). Within the following twenty hours the average depth in the city of Washington was 66 cms. (26 inches). The weight of the snow caused the collapse of the roof of the Knickerbocker Theatre and the death of 97 persons. The total snowfall in various coast cities was: Raleigh 24 cms.* Richmond 48 " Washington 71 " Baltimore 67 " Wilmington 46 " Philadelphia 31 " Trenton 27 " New York 18 " New Haven 8 " Boston 1 " *Note: To convert to inches multiply by 0.4. The table shows clearly how the snow was formed. On the east side of the LOW a stream of air, relatively warm, carried a load of water vapor, approximately 13 grams in each cubic metre. [Illustration: BASE MAP BY GOODE FIG. 10. PATHS OF HIGH AND LOW, GREAT SNOW STORM OF JANUARY 27-28, 1922] This current was steered around the north side of the LOW and met the north-northeast wind. Under the new conditions the air saturated could hold only 2 or 3 grams; and so condensation and heavy precipitation resulted. The region of maximum snowfall was near Washington, and it will be seen that there is a proportional decrease north and south. The snowfall at Washington was the heaviest ever known at that city. Unlike most storms, there was no strong cold northwest wind blowing into the depression. The temperature rose slowly. It was less a contrast of winds than a steady slow outward push of the anticyclone, and the consequent turning of the path of the cyclone eastward. LAWS OF FORECASTING Buys Ballot's Law. "If you stand with your back to the wind the pressure decreases toward your left, and increases toward your right." For navigators, this law is more generally expressed in the words of the Hydrographic Office on "Cyclonic Storms." "Since the wind circulates counter-clockwise in the northern hemisphere, the rule in that hemisphere is to face the wind, and the storm centre will be at the right hand. If the wind traveled in exact circles, the centre would be eight points (90 degrees) to the right when looking directly in the wind's eye. But the wind follows a more or less spiral path inward which brings the centre from eight to twelve points (90 to 135 degrees), to the right of the wind. The centre will bear more nearly eight points from the direction of the lower clouds than from the surface wind." [Illustration: FIG. 11. SKIRON--THE NORTHWEST WIND] The law given on the preceding page is named after C. H. D. Buys Ballott, a Dutch meteorologist. It was announced in a paper published in the _Comptes rendus_ in 1857. Two American writers on the Winds, J. H. Coffin and William Ferrell, had however earlier found the law to hold. * * * * * While most of us study storms from a window at home and are not called upon to handle a ship in a storm, yet it may not be out of place to include here the diagram of the winds in an ideal storm and give the rules for maneuvering. See Figure 12. The Winds in an Idealized Storm. The rules apply only to storms in the northern hemisphere. "_Right or dangerous semicircle_,--Steamers: Bring the wind on the starboard bow, make as much way as possible, and if obliged to heave-to, do so head to sea. Sailing vessels: Keep close-hauled on the starboard tack, make as much way as possible, and if obliged to heave-to, do so on the starboard tack. _Left or navigable semicircle_,--Steam and sailing vessels: Bring the wind on the starboard quarter, note the course and hold it. If obliged to heave-to, steamers may do so stern to sea; sailing vessels on the port tack. _On the storm track in front of center_,--Steam and sailing vessels: Bring the wind two points on the starboard quarter, note the course and hold it, and run for the left semicircle, and when in that semicircle manoeuvre as above. On the storm track, in rear of center,--Avoid the center by the best practicable route, having due regard to the tendency of cyclones to recurve to the southward and eastward." [Illustration: FROM HYDROGRAPHIC OFFICE FIG. 12. THE WINDS IN AN IDEALIZED STORM] WIND AND ALTITUDE The law of the turning of the wind with altitude. A casual observation of the lower clouds where no means of measuring small angles is available will not usually show any difference between the motion of the clouds and the surface wind; but with the upper clouds the case is different, and one readily detects a difference. Several thousand observations with various agencies, such as kites and pilot balloons and more especially measurements made with theodolites and nephoscopes, show that there is a definite twist to the right with elevation. The amount of the deflection is shown in Figure 13. Turning of the Wind with Altitude. Here the average yearly values are given for directions and velocities. Thus if the mean wind direction at Blue Hill is from a point a little to the north of west, 306 grads or 275 degrees, and the mean velocity 7 metres per second; the clouds at 1000 metres elevation will move from 312 or 280 degrees and at a speed of approximately 11 metres per second (24 miles an hour). These however, are average values. In individual cases the difference between surface winds and stratus clouds may be considerably greater. It may be as much as 180 degrees; that is, the cloud may move directly opposite to the wind. In general there will be a difference of 10 to 20 degrees. WIND AND RAIN The law of wind direction, approximate cooling and rain. When the lower clouds are moving from the north or northwest, without sharply defined edges, the LOW is east or northeast of the observer; and rain or snow is not likely unless there is a rapidly falling temperature. [Illustration: TURNING OF WIND WITH ALTITUDE, BLUE HILL FIG. 13. TURNING OF WIND WITH ALTITUDE] When a stream of warm air with a high absolute humidity flows north on the east side of a LOW, and a cold northwest wind follows quickly after the LOW, rain or snow may be expected. Any rapid chilling of warm, moist air produces cloudiness and rain or snow; but a cold stream blowing into a warm area will not produce as much rain as a warm stream blowing into a cold area. DURATION OF WIND The average duration of wind from various directions is as follows: From the north about 16 hours each week; from the northeast, the same; from the east, 11 hours; from the southeast, 10 hours; from the south, 24 hours; from the southwest, 27 hours; from the west, 33 hours; and from the northwest 31 hours. During an individual disturbance lasting about 36 hours, we may have 8 hours of southwest wind; 4 hours of west wind, backing during the next 4 hours to south; 2 hours of south wind; 2 hours of southeast wind; 2 hours of east wind; 8 hours northeast wind and 4 hours north wind, 2 hours northwest, when it may be considered that a new pressure distribution prevails. The above values hold only for a storm moving with normal velocity. LOWS are often blocked by slow moving HIGHS in advance. In such cases the duration of east winds is greater. THE WINDS OF A YEAR The following table shows the marked increase in the prevalence of northwest and west winds during winter months, the decrease in north winds during July, the increase in northeast winds in May, also in east winds; the increase of south and southwest winds in July; and the falling off of southeast winds in December. See Table, page 72. In cities near the Atlantic Coast, a continuance of northeast wind, especially in the fall and winter months, results in frequent altho not necessarily heavy rains. On the other hand a period of continued northwest and west wind is a dry period. In summer, southeast and east winds bring fog and cooler weather; while southwest winds are favorable for the development of thunderstorms. WINDS OF A YEAR TABLE I.--Number of Hours the Wind Blows from Different Directions. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Jan. Mar. May July Sept. Nov. Year Feb. Apr. June Aug. Oct. Dec. Boreas (N) 98 74 71 70 60 40 59 59 67 80 82 96 850 Kaikias (NE) 41 46 65 94 101 55 79 79 77 91 48 30 819 Apheliotes (E) 34 37 52 58 63 48 51 51 52 58 34 31 576 Euros (SE) 37 37 45 41 54 45 62 62 52 45 39 34 534 Notus (S) 82 66 95 99 143 155 128 128 118 93 81 65 1245 Lips (SW) 112 77 81 79 118 170 135 135 133 108 119 131 1402 Zephyros (W) 180 177 155 125 107 137 125 125 108 131 169 194 1732 Skiron (NW) 160 162 183 154 98 94 105 105 113 138 148 163 1607 -------------------------------------------------------------------- [Illustration: FIG. 14. VELOCITY OF SUMMER AND WINTER WINDS IN METRES PER SECOND] THE SEA BREEZE When the weather has been clear and moderately warm for two or more days, and the winds are light and variable, there may occur on the third day a moderate wind from the east, known as the sea-breeze. This occurs during anticyclonic conditions. Preceding the sea-breeze, the winds are very light, there are no clouds, and the temperature rises rapidly during the forenoon. This heating is due to a slow dynamic compression as the air slowly descends and the surface air does not flow away. There is no cooling because there is no evaporation due to air movement. The absolute humidity is low, often less than ten grams per cubic metre. Cumulus clouds do not form because there is no uplift of the lower air and consequently no chance for condensation of whatever water vapor may be present. No thunder-heads form notwithstanding the heat. The heat, while dry, is nevertheless extremely trying to men and animals. Relief comes in the early hours of the afternoon by the arrival of the sea-breeze. The usual explanation of the origin of the sea-breeze is that the land being excessively warm, the air over a relatively cool ocean moves in to take the place of the warm and therefore lighter air, which it is assumed has risen. Unfortunately for this explanation, the air over the land has _not_ risen; but on the contrary is falling slowly. Again the sea-breeze does not begin at the place where the temperature contrast is greatest, namely, just inside the shore line; but comes in from the sea. Nor does the flow extend far inland, which would be the case if there were up-rising currents. The sea-breeze is very shallow, generally not extending upward more than 200 metres, and often not above 100 metres. It does not penetrate far inland, as a rule not more than 15 kilometres, 9 miles. The sea-breeze is probably caused by a slow descent of dry, warm air, on an incline sloping from northeast to southwest. As it reaches the surface it is twisted more to the right; that is, becomes an east wind. It carries inland with it some of the air over the ocean which is much cooler and heavily saturated. MUGGY DAYS There are certain days, more noticeable in summer than at other times, when the air is heavily laden with water vapor; and there is little or no cooling of the body due to evaporation. We perspire freely but as the sweat does not evaporate, there is a constantly increasing amount of water on the skin. [Illustration: FIG. 15. BLUE HILL OBSERVATORY DURING ICE STORM, NOVEMBER 29-30, 1922] It is not altogether a question of temperature, for another day may have as high or even higher temperature. It is essentially a matter of ventilation. On muggy days we are somewhat in the condition of the unfortunate prisoners in the Black Hole at Calcutta. They did not die by poisoning, as has generally been accepted, that is, lack of sufficient oxygen and an excess of carbon dioxide; but because they were unable to keep the skin sufficiently cool. There was no ventilation; no movement of the air and the body became over-heated and exhaustion followed. No matter how much water there may be on the skin if the surrounding space is saturated, one feels oppressed. A vigorous fanning of the air helps evaporation and cools us. That is why a brisk northwest wind routs a muggy condition. CASTILIAN DAYS John Hay wrote of such days spent in Spain. We who live in a land where the winds are more boisterous, occasionally experience what we call a perfect day. Such days have easterly winds of two metres per second or less than five miles an hour. The temperature is midway between freezing and normal body temperature or about 70° F. The relative humidity is approximately 75% and the absolute humidity 12 grams per cubic metre. The table on page 72 explains the paucity of perfect days. The gusty, boisterous winds, Skiron and Zephyros, blow too frequently. Perhaps certain of our national characteristics may be traceable to this flow of the air and our climatic environment. 
63122	----	VOL. III, PP. 41-52, MAY 1, 1891 THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE GEOGRAPHY OF THE AIR ANNUAL REPORT BY VICE-PRESIDENT A. W. GREELY WASHINGTON PUBLISHED BY THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY Price 25 Cents. {41} VOL. III, PP. 41-52, MAY 1, 1891 THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE GEOGRAPHY OF THE AIR. ANNUAL REPORT BY VICE-PRESIDENT A. W. GREELY. (_Presented to the Society January 23, 1891._) In fulfilling the duties growing out of his official position in connection with this Society, your Vice-President of the Geography of the Air has been so closely occupied with executive and other official duties devolving upon him as to preclude his giving that amount of time and labor to this annual report that the subject merits. Indeed, no report would be submitted this year had it not seemed better to insure a continuity of these annual addresses, even if one of them might not be up to the high standard which should be maintained for them. It must have impressed every general reader of scientific journals that the past year has been marked by the publication of an unusual number of controversial articles relating entirely or in part to meteorology. Some of the discussions of this subject appear to be in the nature of speculation, which, by good authority, is defined to be "chiefly the work of the imagination, and has little to do with realities." The status of the meteorological discussion which has been going on for some time seems to be this: A number of men, applying themselves to investigation in separate branches or stages of the same science, are attempting to reconcile their views, which, based as they are upon entirely different processes of investigation, are not entirely accordant. Some, at least, of these writers are still apparently groping in the preliminary, the "natural history" stage of the {42} science of meteorology, while one alone stands as the exponent of the "natural philosophy" of meteorology. To me it seems that it could not have failed to impress any interested reader who has followed the late publications on the convectional theory that, in order to clear the ground for definite meteorological discussion, it is necessary to determine the exact meaning of the various technical terms employed by the various writers. Whether from looseness of verbiage originally or from the not infrequent habit of disputants when worsted to change their ground by claiming to be misunderstood, we find that some writers are unwilling either to stand by their first criticisms or to openly abandon them; they prefer to explain away their defective statements and gradually shift around to positions almost diametrically opposed to those originally assumed. The generally accepted theory as to cyclones attributes their initiatory formation to an unequal distribution of temperature with resulting mean diminution of pressure, and the movement of the air from places of high to places of low pressure, the lower air ascending with a gyratory motion, while air particles moving from opposite directions form couples which produce rotation. When energetic motions raise the ascending air to such a height that the temperature, cooled dynamically in ascending, goes below the dew-point, then the great store of latent heat thereby set free becomes, it is assumed, the main source of energy in maintaining the upward convectional movement. The subsidiary causes are attributed to the diminution of pressure on the collapse of the vapor, and also to the direct absorption of the sun's heat at the upper cloud surface. In anticyclones a slow gyratory descending motion of the air is assumed. Ferrel considers the cyclone and anticyclone one system, and believes that air flowing into the cyclone from a "high" at the ground passes out into the higher atmospheric strata. Dr. Hann has put forth the hypothesis that the genesis of cyclones and anticyclones may be sought in the general atmospheric circulation through a difference of temperature of the air from the equator to the poles. He speaks of a congestion in the upper or anti-trade winds, where the air heaps up to a great height, this being the cause of the anticyclones; and he maintains that the low temperature of the "high" is due to ground radiation, and that no part of the high pressure is the result of low temperature. {43} To this hypothesis of Dr. Hann, ascribing the genesis of storms to the general circulation of the atmosphere, no application of the laws of dynamics has yet been made with a view of developing it into an acceptable "theory." If it should be established it does not follow that it will in any way affect the truth of the commonly accepted "convectional system," which, founded as it is on the well-known laws of thermo-dynamics, is not likely to be successfully assailed. There may be an improved nomenclature for the laws of statics and dynamics that will express to the mind more clearly the relation of cause and effect; but until the advance of scientific research modifies the present formulation of these laws the convectional theory will be generally accepted as giving the true interpretation of all the phenomena to which it could be applied. Professor Russell, in commenting on this subject, expresses the opinion that the low temperature is due to the convective interchange of air at a low temperature in the upper strata with air of a high temperature in lower strata, such convective interchange tending to make the whole body of air of a temperature coinciding throughout with the adiabatic rate of upward diminution, with the consequent result of rendering the air at the surface of the earth cooler than previously and the upper air warmer. When the upward diminution of temperature is less than the adiabatic rate, in the forced circulation of air crossing a mountain ridge, there occurs the dynamic heating which is observed in the case of the foehn winds. The low temperature near the earth he does not believe could ever be entirely produced by nocturnal radiation from the ground. The high pressure, in his opinion, is largely the result of greater density due to low temperature, as is very clearly indicated by the fact that the temperature is almost inversely proportional to the pressure, and that the places of lower temperature substantially coincide with the places of greatest pressure. In advancing hypotheses and inviting discussion the real object is, or at least should be, to discover the essential cause or causes which determine the initial formation and subsequent maintenance and progress of the cyclone. Some real progress in charting lines of equal density seems to have been made by M. Nils Ekholm following Professor Abbe's system of "isostaths," one using the term density, the other buoyancy. Professor Abbe also introduces the factor of the orographic gradient, but the {44} latter is simply the measure of a resistance. The objection to this form of determination is this, that it is a measure of mass only. The density of two masses of air is determined to be the same; but as the density may result from two entirely different causes, their physical relations cannot be fully expressed in units of gravity. The methods of Professor Abbe and of M. Nils Ekholm undoubtedly give good results, partly from the coincidence that humidity usually varies directly as the temperature. The method proposed by Captain James Allen in 1888, which is briefly described in appendix 24 to the annual report of the Chief Signal Officer for 1890, appears to afford the means of more clearly expressing the relations that exist between the mass of the atmosphere and the forces available for the generation and movement of storms. Its tentative application at the Signal Office has anticipated and explained storm movements not indicated or accounted for by the usual methods. As pertinent to this matter, there is instanced a study of the progress of thunder-storms made by Berg, who observes that the line of storm front in every case investigated made a decidedly conspicuous bend into the densest part of the lines representing the absolute humidity. * * * * * Scientific conditions have so changed that in these later years it becomes more and more difficult for investigators to publish any work which may be characterized as _magnum opus_. Under this head, however, must be classed Buchan's important memoir on the distribution of atmospheric pressure, temperature, and wind direction over the whole world; a large quarto volume, which contains much new material. It has been incorporated with the results of observations during the Challenger expedition, in which series this work appears. The isobars and isotherms for each month in the year for the whole earth are charted on Mercator's projection, and for the northern hemisphere on a chart constructed on a polar projection. In connection with an abstruse subject, to which Buchan has paid so much attention, the diurnal variation of pressure, he opines from the Challenger observations that the oscillations are due to the heat taken from the solar rays directly in passing through the air and instantaneously communicated through the whole mass from top to bottom by heating and evaporation of water on innumerable dust particles. The afternoon minimum, he thinks, is caused by upward currents removing a portion of the lower air. Marked {45} differences exist between the continental and insular types, since on islands the morning minimum is unusually large and the afternoon minimum so small as to disappear, while in continental types the reverse conditions obtain. * * * * * Werner Von Siemens, in answering Sprung's criticism on his general air currents, after repelling certain statements of Sprung, describes his own theories, which are worthy of restating: 1. All winds are caused by the disturbances of indifferent equilibrium, and the motion of the air is to restore equilibrium. 2. These disturbances are caused through overheating of the layers of air near the surface of the earth by insolation, through unsymmetrical cooling of the higher layers by radiation, and through the heaping up of air masses caused by obstructions. 3. The disturbances are adjusted by ascending currents, wherein the particular species of acceleration occurs in which the increase of velocity is proportioned to the diminution of pressure. 4. The upward currents correspond to equally great descending currents in which there is a decrease of velocity corresponding to the acceleration in the upward velocity. 5. If the region of overheating of the air is limited locally, a local upward current reaching to the highest layers of air arises, and whirlwinds appear with interior spirally ascending currents and outside similar spiral descending currents. The result of this is dispersion of the superfluous heat of the lower air by which the adiabatic equilibrium is disturbed throughout the whole column of air taking part in the whirling motion. 6. In case the region of disturbance of the indifferent (or adiabatic) equilibrium is very extensive, as, for example, the whole of the tropical zone, the temperature adjustment can no longer be accomplished by locally ascending whirls, and a whirling current must then arise involving the whole atmosphere. The same conditions apply to these as to the local whirls of accelerated upward motion and retarded descent in such a manner that the velocity at different altitudes arising from heat converted to work is approximately proportional to the prevailing pressure at the place. 7. In consequence of the meridional motion produced and maintained by conversion of heat into work, the whole atmosphere in every latitude must rotate with approximately the same absolute velocity. Thus the meridional currents produced by overheating combine with the currents embracing the whole {46} wind system of the earth, with the result of disseminating the excess of temperature and humidity of the torrid zone over the temperate and arctic zones, thereby producing the prevailing winds. 8. This is accomplished by the production of alternating local depressions and elevations of barometric pressure by the disturbance of indifferent equilibrium in the upper layers of the air. 9. "Highs" and "lows" are a consequence of the temperatures and velocities of the upper currents. Whence it follows that the most important problem of meteorology is the investigation of the causes and consequences of the disturbance of indifferent equilibrium of the atmosphere, and the weightiest problem in weather prediction is the investigation of the geographical origin or extraction of air currents pursuing their course above us toward the pole. * * * * * In Pomortsew's treatise on synoptic meteorology, published in Russia, there are full chapters on prediction of weather, whether from synoptic charts, from observations at a single place, or from prognostics of great length based on researches on the succession of warm and cold months. It also contains Pomortsew's investigations on the types of pressure distribution in eastern Europe, as well as the average path of cyclones. * * * * * The favorable opportunities afforded by the Eiffel tower have been utilized by French meteorologists. M. Angot states that during the anti-cyclone of November, 1889, the temperature on the tower was several degrees higher than below. The change of weather set in earlier, with a strong and warm wind, on the tower, while the air at the ground was cold and calm. Wind observations on the tower show a ratio of 3.1 at that height (303 meters) to the velocity at a height of 21 meters, as determined from 101 days' observations, which, remarkable at such a small height, discloses the peculiarity of high mountain stations. * * * * * Partsch, writing on evidence of climatic changes within historical times in the Mediterranean region, remarks that too much attention has been given to changes in crops, the introduction of plants, and the limits of domestic animals. He states that existing information as to the harvest time of ancient days indicates an unchanged climate, while the land-locked lakes in Tunis, which afford the best evidence on rainfall variation, show absolutely no climatic change. * * * * * {47} Van Bebber, in writing on weather types, claims that a line drawn from the center of a cyclone perpendicularly in the direction of the heaviest gradients will in general be perpendicular to the subsequent path of the "low," and that these lows leave high temperature on the right hand. * * * * * Hill, in describing hail-stones and tornadoes in India, explains them on the principle of the great diminution of temperature upwards in the air, but a critic, in combating this theory, objects to the high and low stations selected to show temperatures. * * * * * The so-called "weather plant" of the tropics has passed through the process of investigation with the usual result. It appears surprising that in these days it should be believed that any plant or animal can foretell weather 48 hours in advance, particularly after considering the vast amount of proof as to the enormous rapidity with which weather-changes progress from day to day. * * * * * Hugo Meyer, in treating the precipitation of central Germany for the ten years ending in 1885, pertinently remarks that the same significance does not attach to the same rainfall for all places and different times of the year, for this average value is not the amount most likely to fall in any particular interval of time, since there is a limit to the extent of the negative deviations on one side--that is, 0 or no rainfall, while on the positive side there is no limit. The most probable depth of rainfall, therefore, is less than the mean value, the preponderance of negative over positive deviations being about 10 per cent. and sometimes as great as 20 per cent. * * * * * Professor W. M. Davis wrote an interesting review of Professor Ferrel's popular treatise on the winds, published a year ago. Commenting on the review, the editor of _Meteorologische Zeltschrift_, Vienna, remarks on a very important omission in the treatise, namely, the absence of all reference to the diurnal variation of the wind and the many interesting relations it bears to other phenomena, a notable omission in a treatise specially devoted to winds. The treatment of the monsoon wind and its relation to the general circulation is highly commended by the editor, and indicated as being all new. * * * * * Your Vice-President has elsewhere expressed his opinion that monsoon winds, applying the term by liberal construction to signify winds which recur with returning seasons, cannot with {48} any degree of correctness be asserted to prevail in the United States. It is true that the prevailing surface winds of the greater part of the United States come from the western quadrants--that is, between southwest and northwest--and so are in substantial harmony with the general atmospheric circulation as shown by the upper-wind currents of Mount Washington (from the northwest) and Pike's peak (from the southwest). But, apart from the easterly and northeasterly trades on the Florida coast, it appears from the records that in no case for any considerable section of the country do 50 per cent. of the winds blow, for any consecutive number of months, either from any single point or from two neighboring points of the compass. Occasionally, however, the local configuration of the country is such that winds are drawn up or down valleys, and, being diverted from their free and proper direction, the wind in such cases follows the trend of the valley or depression. * * * * * In general your Vice-President would feel inclined to refer only casually to the work proceeding from the Bureau over which he has the honor to preside, but this year has been marked by special researches and investigations of general interest. As the work of investigation has been entrusted to the professors of the Signal Service, due credit should not be refused them from their own official chief. Special reference should be made to the work of Professor Charles F. Marvin, whose successful experiments on wind pressures and velocities have attracted the attention of experts both in Europe and in this country. Unfortunately there was available only a small sum (about one hundred dollars) for the expense of experiments, but with this petty sum, supplemented by his ingenuity, Professor Marvin has very satisfactorily determined the coëfficients of the various forms of the Robinson anemometer, with which instrument the velocity of the wind is very generally determined. Following these investigations, the Royal Meteorological Society of England reopened the question, which, after a costly set of experiments with results widely differing from those of Professor Marvin, had been considered closed. The general results of these researches, which are believed to be sufficiently definite for general questions, are not only prized by the scientist, but they are of value to the engineer and the builder. Indeed, to all interested in costly structures or extended works liable to harm from wind pressures, the factor of safety is {49} a matter of no small pecuniary importance. These experiments show that, as was formerly believed to be the case, the wind pressure varies as the square of the velocity of the wind, expressed in miles per hour; but a most important fact has developed, namely, that the pressure in pounds per square foot is equal to the miles of hourly velocity multiplied by 0.004 instead of 0.005, as was formerly assumed. Professor Marvin was not content with one system of experiments, but he further attacked the problem in a direct manner by a method which checked and verified his experiments with the whirling machine. On the summit of Mount Washington, at an elevation of 6,300 feet, he obtained simultaneously and under the same conditions, by automatic and electrical apparatus, continuous registration of the pressure of the wind in pounds per square foot and of the velocity in miles per hour. The results thus verified can be considered as conclusive from a general standpoint. The corrections for the Robinson anemometer thus determined from these experiments are comparatively unimportant at low velocities, say from 10 to 15 miles per hour, being only a fraction of a mile per hour. The uncorrected velocities, however, are in all cases too large, and by greater and greater amounts the higher the velocity. At 60 miles per hour the observed velocities are about 12 miles per hour too high, and for an indicated velocity of 90 miles the experiments show that the actual velocity is but a fraction over 69 miles per hour. The anemometer formula found to satisfy most closely the entire range of experiments has the following form for velocities in miles per hour: Log. _V_ = 0.509 + 0.9012 log. _v_. This difference indicated by the formula may seem small and insignificant, as it is in the case of light winds, but at very high velocities the differences are very great. For instance, an actual velocity of 60 miles per hour may occur at some time in almost any locality of the United States for a few minutes, and even greater velocities are occasionally reported, apart from severe tornadoes. Under the old coëfficients for the Robinson anemometer an actual velocity of 60 miles per hour would have been reported as 77 miles per hour, which under the old factor of 0.005 would mean a pressure of 29.6 pounds per square foot; but when considered with reference to the true velocity of 60 miles, under {50} the new factor of 0.004, the pressure would only be 14.4 pounds per square foot--a reduction of over 50 per cent. from the pressure-values formerly accepted. Professor Marvin has undertaken to verify, and also to extend to even lower temperatures, the observations of Regnault as to the pressure of aqueous vapor at low temperatures, especial attention being given to temperature conditions from 0° centigrade to -50° centigrade. These observations disclose, below 0° centigrade, small but constant differences from the values assigned by Regnault. In all this work Professor Marvin has shown such ingenuity of resource, such skill in adapting means to the end, and such deftness in improvising and manufacturing the requisite instruments as have elicited commendation from all who have seen his work and followed his methods. Your Vice-President alludes to this not only to give that credit rightfully due to Professor Marvin, but to illustrate this as a type of the highly important work which is being done in all branches of science here in Washington by young men sometimes illy equipped as to means, and still more illy paid. Men engaged in work of original investigation should receive higher pay than clerks in charge of routine duties; but unfortunately the majority of them do not. * * * * * The work of Professor Hazen in charting tornadoes and in determining their relative frequency and severity is directly in the line of the Geography of the Air. Great attention had previously been given to this subject by Lieutenant John P. Finley, who, with indefatigable industry, had accumulated an enormous mass of data relative to these violent outbursts of nature's forces. The figures and deductions previously put forth under the authority of the Signal Service having been questioned, the Chief Signal Officer felt obliged, in view of the growing practical importance of the question, as indicated by the great sums annually paid out in the Ohio valley and in the trans-Mississippi region for protection against tornadoes, to reöpen the subject. Instructions of the most conservative character were given to Professor Hazen to determine carefully the prevalence and number of tornadoes in the United States, the areas devastated by them, and the number of lives lost annually. This work was carefully scrutinized during its progress to see that it should be devoid of theory and rest on the solid basis of fact. The results are most assuring to every {51} one, and must serve to allay the unreasonable fears of the inhabitants of the so-called "tornado districts." It appears that there is no part of the United States in which annually more than one square mile of devastation or severe destruction can be expected for each 185,000 square miles, although cases of _limited destruction_ may occur annually for about every 5,000 square miles of area. In no state may destructive tornadoes be expected, on an average, more than once in two years; and the area over which total destruction can be expected is, as shown by the foregoing figures, exceedingly small, even in localities most liable to these violent storms. The annual death casualties from tornadoes have averaged, in the last 18 years, 102 annually; but it is believed that the death rate from lightning is greater than that from tornadoes, since during March to August, 1890, the names of 110 are on record who have lost their lives by lightning, although the data are incomplete, especially as regards the southern states. These statistics cannot be passed by lightly, however, and it is doubtful if in the main they are much in error. By them it appears from five years' record that the average annual death rate by lightning in the United States is 3.8 per million of inhabitants, or 0.2 above the average. In Sweden, for sixty years, the average has been 3.0; in France, for forty-nine years, 3.1; in Baden, for seventeen years, 3.8; and in Prussia, for fifteen years, 4.4 per million. Other figures, given by a life-insurance agent in St. Louis, which the author claims to have compiled with great care, place the average annual rate of death from lightning in the United States at 206, being more than double the deaths from tornadoes. It must be understood that these figures are not vouched for, and must be very cautiously received, as originating with companies interested pecuniarily in the statistics. On the whole, therefore, it may be safely assumed that tornadoes are not so destructive to life as thunder-storms. * * * * * Professor Thomas Russell has formulated a method for prediction of cold waves. They always occur after "lows" and before "highs," and different cold waves vary in extent from three "units" to sixty. A "unit" of temperature-fall is taken as a fall of twenty degrees over an area of 50,000 square miles. The temperature-fall curves in the United States are approximately elliptical in shape. Perfect ellipses represent actual temperature falls with an error not exceeding six degrees in {52} most cases. These fall lines are intersections of planes with a cone which graphically represents the totality of temperature-fall, the contents of the cone being equal to the area of its base multiplied by its altitude, which is the greatest fall in temperature at the center of the cold wave. A formula has been devised, based on 127 special cases, representing the amount of fall in terms of the amount of barometric depression in a "low," and the amount of excess if a "high," and the density of the isothermal lines in the region. From proper consideration of the type of low area, shape of isobars, and position of the long axis, definite conclusions can be drawn as to the subsequent shape of the elliptical twenty-degree temperature-fall area and its position. A method has been devised, also by Professor Russell, for determining the maximum fall of temperature at the center of the cold wave. The maximum fall and extent of fall being known, from suitably prepared tables, the area of twenty-degree fall can be derived. Previously prepared pieces of card-board are laid in the proper position on a map of suitable scale, and lines drawn around them. Between the line representing the twenty-degree fall and the center, the other falls of thirty degrees, forty degrees, etc., are sketched in. * * * * * The foregoing sketch of the geography of the air may appear too superficial and limited for the purposes of this Society, but its further elaboration was impracticable. Indeed, the subject of meteorology could hardly have been touched upon this year had it not been for the courtesy of Professor Russell in placing at my disposal notes upon translations from foreign publications, especially from the German; which publications I have been unable to examine save in a casual way. The address, as it is, is submitted only in the hope that it may serve, if no other purpose, at least to indicate the great interest which now obtains in the geography of the air, and which manifests itself in the production of meteorological pamphlets and publications too numerous to permit any one charged with important executive duties to examine them all, even in a non-critical way. 
38928	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive.) SHILLING SCIENTIFIC SERIES [Illustration: DR. AITKEN'S DUST-COUNTER. R is the test-receiver; P the air-pump; M the measuring apparatus; L the illuminating arrangements; G the Gasometer; A the pipe through which the tested air is drawn.] METEOROLOGY; OR, WEATHER EXPLAINED. BY J. G. M'PHERSON, Ph.D., F.R.S.E., GRADUATE WITH FIRST-CLASS HONOURS, AND FOR NINE YEARS EXTENSION LECTURER ON METEOROLOGY AND MATHEMATICAL EXAMINER IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS; AUTHOR OF "TALES OF SCIENCE," ETC. LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK, 34 HENRIETTA STREET, W.C. AND EDINBURGH. 1905. THE SHILLING SCIENTIFIC SERIES _The following Vols. are now ready or in the Press_:-- BALLOONS, AIRSHIPS, AND FLYING MACHINES. By GERTRUDE BACON. MOTORS AND MOTORING. By Professor HARRY SPOONER. RADIUM. By Dr. HAMPSON. TELEGRAPHY WITH AND WITHOUT WIRES. By W. J. WHITE. ELECTRIC LIGHTING. By S. F. WALKER, R.N., M.I.E.E. LOCAL GOVERNMENT. By PERCY ASHLEY, M.A. _Others in Preparation_ Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. At the Ballantyne Press CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. INTRODUCTION 9 II. THE FORMATION OF DEW 13 III. TRUE AND FALSE DEW 17 IV. HOAR-FROST 20 V. FOG 23 VI. THE NUMBERING OF THE DUST 26 VII. DUST AND ATMOSPHERIC PHENOMENA 29 VIII. A FOG-COUNTER 31 IX. FORMATION OF CLOUDS 34 X. DECAY OF CLOUDS 37 XI. IT ALWAYS RAINS 40 XII. HAZE 43 XIII. HAZING EFFECTS OF ATMOSPHERIC DUST 47 XIV. THUNDER CLEARS THE AIR 49 XV. DISEASE GERMS IN THE AIR 53 XVI. A CHANGE OF AIR 55 XVII. THE OLD MOON IN THE NEW MOON'S ARMS 58 XVIII. AN AUTUMN AFTERGLOW 62 XIX. A WINTER FOREGLOW 65 XX. THE RAINBOW 68 XXI. THE AURORA BOREALIS 71 XXII. THE BLUE SKY 74 XXIII. A SANITARY DETECTIVE 78 XXIV. FOG AND SMOKE 80 XXV. ELECTRICAL DEPOSITION OF SMOKE 83 XXVI. RADIATION FROM SNOW 86 XXVII. MOUNTAIN GIANTS 88 XXVIII. THE WIND 92 XXIX. CYCLONES AND ANTI-CYCLONES 95 XXX. RAIN PHENOMENA 98 XXXI. THE METEOROLOGY OF BEN NEVIS 102 XXXII. THE WEATHER AND INFLUENZA 107 XXXIII. CLIMATE 110 XXXIV. THE "CHALLENGER" WEATHER REPORTS 114 XXXV. WEATHER-FORECASTING 116 INDEX 124 PREFATORY NOTE I am very much indebted to Dr. John Aitken, F.R.S., for his great kindness in carefully revising the proof sheets, and giving me most valuable suggestions. This is a sufficient guarantee that accuracy has not been sacrificed to popular explanation. J. G. M'P. RUTHVEN MANSE, _June 10, 1905_. METEOROLOGY CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION Though by familiarity made commonplace, the "weather" is one of the most important topics of conversation, and has constant bearings upon the work and prospects of business-men and men of pleasure. The state of the weather is the password when people meet on the country road: we could not do without the humble talisman. "A fine day" comes spontaneously to the lips, whatever be the state of the atmosphere, unless it is peculiarly and strikingly repulsive; then "A bitter day" would take the place of the expression. Yet I have heard "_Terrible_ guid wither" as often as "_Terrible_ bad day" among country people. Scarcely a friendly letter is penned without a reference to the weather, as to what has been, is, or may be. It is a new stimulus to a lagging conversation at any dinner-table. All are so dependent on the weather, especially those getting up in years or of delicate health. I remember, when at Strathpeffer, the great health-resort in the North of Scotland, in 1885, an anxious invalid at "The Pump" asking a weather-beaten, rheumatic old gamekeeper what sort of a day it was to be, considering that it had been wet for some time. The keeper crippled to the barometer outside the doorway, and returned with the matter-of-fact answer: "She's faurer doon ta tay nur she wass up yestreen." The barometer had evidently fallen during the night. "And what are we to expect?" sadly inquired the invalid. "It'll pe aither ferry wat, or mohr rain"--a poor consolation! Most men who are bent on business or pleasure, and all dwellers in the country who have the instruments, make a first call at the barometer in the lobby, or the aneroid in the breakfast-parlour, to "see what she says." A good rise of the black needle (that is, to the right) above the yellow needle is a source of rejoicing, as it will likely be clear, dry, and hard weather. A slight fall (that is, to the left) causes anxiety as to coming rain, and a big depression forebodes much rain or a violent storm of wind. In either case of "fall," the shutters come over the eyes of the observer. Next, even before breakfast, a move is made to the self-registering thermometer (set the night before) on a stone, a couple of feet above the grass. A good reading, above the freezing-point in winter and much above it in summer, indicates the absence of killing rimes, that are generally followed by rain. A very low register accounts for the feeling of cold during the night, though the fires were not out; and predicts precarious weather. Ordinarily careful observers--as I, who have been in one place for more than thirty years--can, with the morning indications of these two instruments, come pretty sure of their prognostics of the day's weather. Of course, the morning newspaper is carefully scanned as to the weather-forecasts from the London Meteorological Office--direction of wind; warm, mild, or cold; rain or fair, and so on--and in general these indications are wonderfully accurate for twenty-four hours; though the "three days'" prognostics seem to stretch a point. We are hardly up to that yet. The lower animals are very sensitive as to the state of approaching extremes of weather. "Thae sea beass," referring to sea-gulls over the inland leas during ploughing, are ordinary indicators of stormy weather. Wind is sure to follow violent wheelings of crows. "Beware of rain" when the sheep are restive, rubbing themselves on tree stumps. But all are familiar with Jenner's prognostics of rain. Science has come to the aid of ordinary weather-lore during the last twenty years, by leaps and bounds. Time-honoured notions and revered fictions, around which the hallowed associations of our early training fondly and firmly cling, must now yield to the exact handling of modern science; and with reluctance we have to part with them. Yet there is in all a fascination to account for certain ordinary phenomena. "The man in the street," as well as the strong reading man, wishes to know the "why" and the "how" of weather-forecasting. They are anxious to have weather-phenomena explained in a plain, interesting, but accurate way. The freshness of the marvellous results has an irresistible charm for the open mind, keen for useful information. The discoveries often seem so simple that one wonders why they were not made before. Until about twenty years ago, Meteorology was comparatively far back as a science; and in one important branch of it, no one has done more to put weather-lore on a scientific basis than Dr. John Aitken, F.R.S., who has very kindly given me his full permission to popularise what I like of his numerous and very valuable scientific papers in the _Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh_. This I have done my best to carry out in the following pages. "The way of putting it" is my only claim. Many scientific men are decoyed on in the search for truth with a spell unknown to others: the anticipation of the results sometimes amounts to a passion. Many wrong tracks do they take, yet they start afresh, just as the detective has to take several courses before he hits upon the correct scent. When they succeed, they experience a pleasure which is indescribable; to them fame is more than a mere "fancied life in others' breath." Dr. Aitken's continued experiments, often of rare ingenuity and brilliancy, show that no truth is altogether barren; and even that which looks at first sight the very simplest and most trivial may turn out fruitful in precious results. Small things must not be overlooked, for great discoveries are sometimes at a man's very door. Dr. Aitken has shown us this in many of his discoveries which have revolutionised a branch of meteorology. Prudence, patience, observing power, and perseverance in scientific research will do much to bring about unexpected results, and not more so in any science than in accounting for weather-lore on a rational basis, which it is in the power of all my readers to further. "The old order changeth, giving place to new." With kaleidoscopic variety Nature's face changes to the touch of the anxious and reverent observer. And some of these curious weather-views will be disclosed in these pages, so as, in a brief but readable way, to explain the weather, and lay a safe basis for probable forecastings, which will be of great benefit to the man of business as well as the man of pleasure. "Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas." --VIRGIL. CHAPTER II THE FORMATION OF DEW The writer of the Book of Job gravely asked the important question, "Who hath begotten the drops of dew?" We repeat the question in another form, "Whence comes the real dew? Does it fall from the heavens above, or does it rise from the earth beneath?" Until about the beginning of the seventeenth century, scientific men held the opinion of ordinary observers that dew fell from the atmosphere. But there was then a reaction from this theory, for Nardius defined it as an exhalation from the earth. Of course, it was well known that dew was formed by the precipitation of the vapour of the air upon a colder body. You can see that any day for yourself by bringing a glass of very cold water into a warm room; the outer surface of the glass is dimmed at once by the moisture from the air. M. Picket was puzzled when he saw that a thermometer, suspended five feet above the ground, marked a lower temperature on clear nights than one suspended at the height of seventy-five feet; because it was always supposed that the cold of evening descended from above. Again he was puzzled when he observed that a buried thermometer read higher than one on the surface of the ground. Until recently the greatest authority on dew was Dr. Wells, who carefully converged all the rays of scientific light upon the subject. He came to the conclusion that dew was condensed out of the air. But the discovery of the true theory was left to Dr. John Aitken, F.R.S., a distinguished observer and a practical physicist, of whom Scotland has reason to be proud. About twenty years ago he made the discovery, and it is now accepted by all scientific men on the Continent as well as in Great Britain. What first caused him to doubt Dr. Wells' theory, so universally accepted, that dew is formed of vapour existing at the time in the air, and to suppose that dew is mostly formed of vapour rising from the ground, was the result of some observations made in summer on the temperature of the soil at a small depth under the surface, and of the air over it, after sunset and at night. He was struck with the unvarying fact that the ground, a little below the surface, was warmer than the air over it. By placing a thermometer among stems below the surface, he found that it registered 18° Fahr. higher than one on the surface. So long, then, as the surface of the ground is above the dew-point (_i.e._ the temperature when dew begins to be formed), vapour must rise from the ground; this moist air will mingle with the air which it enters, and its moisture will be condensed and form dew, whenever it comes in contact with a surface cooled below the dew-point. You can verify this by simple experiments. Take a thin, shallow, metal tray, painted black, and place it over the ground after sunset. On dewy nights the _inside_ of the tray is dewed, and the grass inside is wetter than that outside. On some nights there is no dew outside the tray, and on all nights the deposit on the inner is heavier than that on the outside. If wool is used in the experiments, we are reminded of one of the forms of the dewing of Gideon's fleece--the fleece was bedewed when all outside was dry. You therefore naturally and rightly come to the conclusion that far more vapour rises out of the ground during the night than condenses as dew on the grass, and that this vapour from the ground is trapped by the tray. Much of the rising vapour is generally carried away by the passing wind, however gentle; hence we have it condensed as dew on the roofs of houses, and other places, where you would think that it had fallen from above. The vapour rising under the tray is not diluted by the mixture with the drier air which is occasioned by the passing wind; therefore, though only cooled to the same extent as the air outside, it yields a heavier deposit of dew. If you place the tray on bare ground, you will find on a dewy night that the inside of the tray is quite wet. On a dewy night you will observe that the under part of the gravel of the road is dripping wet when the top is dry. You will find, too, that around pieces of iron and old implements in the field, there is a very marked increase of grass, owing to the deposit of moisture on these articles--moisture which has been condensed by the cold metal from the vapour-charged air, which has risen from the ground on dewy nights. But all doubt upon this important matter is removed by a most successful experiment with a fine balance, which weighs to a quarter of a grain. If vapour rises from the ground for any length of time during dewy nights, the soil which gives off the vapour must lose weight. To test this, cut from the lawn a piece of turf six inches square and a quarter of an inch thick. Place this in a shallow pan, and carefully note the weight of both turf and pan with the sensitive balance. To prevent loss by evaporation, the weighing should be done in an open shed. Then place the pan and turf at sunset in the open cut. Five hours afterwards remove and weigh them, and it will be found that the turf has lost a part of its weight. The vapour which rose from the ground during the formation of the dew accounts for the difference of weight. This weighing-test will also succeed on bare ground. When dealing with hoar-frost, which is just frozen dew, we shall find visible evidence of the rising of dew from the ground. You know the beautiful song, "Annie Laurie," which begins with-- "Maxwelton's braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew"-- well, you can no longer say that the dew "falls," for it rises from the ground. The song, however, will be sung as sweetly as ever; for the spirit of true poetry defies the cold letter of science. CHAPTER III TRUE AND FALSE DEW Ever since men could observe and think, they have admired the diamond globules sparkling in the rising sun. These "dew-drops" were considered to be shed from the bosom of the morn into the blooming flowers and rich grass-leaves. Ballantine's beautiful song of Providential care tells us that "Ilka blade o' grass keps it's ain drap o' dew." But, alas! we have to bid "good-bye" to the appellation "dew-drop." What was popularly and poetically called dew _is not dew at all_. Then what is it? On what we have been accustomed to call a "dewy" night, after the brilliant summer sun has set, and the stars begin to peep out of the almost cloudless sky, let us take a look at the produce of our vegetable garden. On the broccoli are found glistening drops; but on the peas, growing next them, we find nothing. A closer examination shows us that the moisture on the plants is not arranged as would be expected from the ordinary laws of radiation and condensation. There is no generally filmy appearance over the leaves; the moisture is collected in little drops placed at short distances apart, along the edges of the leaves all round. Now place a lighted lantern below one of the blades of the broccoli, and a revelation will be made. The brilliant diamond-drops that fringe the edge of the blade are all placed at the points where the nearly colourless veins of the blade come to the outer edge. The drops are not dew at all, but the exudation of the healthy plant, which has been conveyed up these veins by strong root-pressure. The fact is that the root acts as a kind of force-pump, and keeps up a constant pressure inside the tissues of the plant. One of the simplest experiments suggested by Dr. Aitken is to lift a single grass-plant, with a clod of moist earth attached to it, and place it on a plate with an inverted tumbler over it. In about an hour, drops will begin to exude, and the tip of nearly every blade will be found to be studded with a diamond-like drop. Next substitute water-pressure. Remove a blade of broccoli and connect it by means of an india-rubber tube with a head of water of about forty inches. Place a glass receiver over it, so as to check evaporation, and leave it for an hour. The plant will be found to have excreted water freely, some parts of the leaves being quite wet, while drops are collected at the places where they appeared at night. If the water pressed into the leaf is coloured with aniline blue, the drops when they first appear are colourless; but before they grow to any size, the blue appears, showing that little water was held in the veins. The whole leaf soon gets coloured of a fine deep blue-green, like that seen when vegetation is rank; this shows that the injected liquid has penetrated through the whole leaf. Again, the surfaces of the leaves of these drop-exuding plants never seem to be wetted by the water. It is because of the rejection of water by the leaf-surface that the exuded moisture from the veins remains as a drop. These observations and experiments establish the fact that the drops which first make their appearance on grass on dewy nights are not dew-drops at all, but the exuded watery juices of the plants. If now we look at dead leaves we shall find a difference of formation of the moisture on a dewy night: the moisture is spread equally over, where equally exposed. The moisture exuded by the healthy grass is always found at a _point_ situated near the tip of the blade, forming a drop of some size; but the true dew collects later on _evenly_ all over the blade. The false dew forms a large glistening diamond-drop, whereas the true dew coats the blade with a fine pearly lustre. Brilliant globules are produced by the vital action of the plant, especially beautiful when the deep-red setting sun makes them glisten, all a-tremble, with gold light; while an infinite number of minute but shining opal-like particles of moisture bedecks the blade-surfaces, in the form of the gentle dew-- "Like that which kept the heart of Eden green Before the useful trouble of the rain." CHAPTER IV HOAR-FROST All in this country are familiar with the beauty of hoar-frost. The children are delighted with the funny figures on the glass of the bedroom window on a cold winter morning. Frost is a wonderful artist; during the night he has been dipping his brush into something like diluted schist, and laying it gracefully on the smooth panes. And, as you walk over the meadows, you observe the thin white films of ice on the green pasture; and the clear, slender blades seem like crystal spears, or the "lashes of light that trim the stars." You all know what hoar-frost is, though most in the country give it the expressive name of "rime." But you are not all aware of how it is formed. Hoar-frost is just frozen dew. In a learned paper, written in 1784, Professor Wilson of Glasgow made this significant remark: "This is a subject which, besides its entire novelty, seems, upon other accounts, to have a claim to some attention." He observed, in that exceptionally cold winter, that, when sheets of paper and plates of metal were laid out, all began to attract hoar-frost as soon as they had time to cool down to the temperature of the air. He was struck with the fact that, while the thermometer indicated 36 degrees of frost a few feet above the ground and 44 degrees of frost at the surface of the snow, there were only 8 degrees of frost at a point 3 inches below the surface of the snow. If he had only thought of placing the thermometer on the grass, under the snow, he would have found it to register the freezing-point only. And had he inserted the instrument below the ground, he would have found it registering a still higher temperature. That fact would have suggested to him the formation of hoar-frost; that the water-vapour from the warm soil was trapped by a cold stratum of air and frozen when in the form of dew. One of the most interesting experiments, without apparatus, which you can make is in connection with the formation of hoar-frost, when there is no snow on the ground, in very cold weather. If it has been a bright, clear, sunny day in January, the effect can be better observed. Look over the garden, grass, and walks on the morning after the intense cold of the night; big plane-tree leaves may be found scattered over the place. You see little or no hoar-frost on the _upper_ surface of the leaves. But turn up the surface next the earth, or the road, or the grass, and what do you see? You have only to handle the leaf in this way to be brightly astonished. A thick white coating of hoar-frost, as thick as a layer of snow, is on the _under_ surface. If a number of leaves have been overlapping each other, there will be no coating of hoar-frost under the top leaves; but when you reach the lowest layer, next the bare ground, you will find the hoar-frost on the under surface of the leaves. Now that is positive proof that the hoar-frost has not fallen from the air, but has risen from the earth. The sun's heat on the previous day warmed the earth. This heat the earth retained till evening. As the air chilled, the water-vapour from the warmer earth rose from its surface, and was arrested by the cold surface of the leaves. So cold was that surface that it froze the water-vapour when rising from the earth, and formed hoar-frost in very large quantities. When this happens later on in the season, one may be almost sure of having rain in the forenoon. As hoar-frost is just frozen dew, I can even more surely convince you of the formation of hoar-frost as rising from the ground by observations made by me at my manse in Strathmore, in June 1892. I mention this particularly because then was the most favourable testing-time that has _ever_ occurred during meteorological observations. June 9th was the warmest June day (with one exception) for twenty years. The thermometer reached 83° Fahr. in the shade. Next day was the coldest June day (with one exception) for twenty years, when the thermometer was as low as 51° in the shade. But during the night my thermometer on the grass registered 32°--the freezing point. On the evening of the sultry day I examined the soil at 10 o'clock. It was damp, and the grass round it was filmy moist. The leaves of the trees were crackling dry, and all above was void of moisture. The air became gradually chilly; and as gradually the moisture rose in height on the shrubs and lower branches of small trees. The moon shone bright, and the stars showed their clear, chilly eyes. The soil soon became quite wet, the low grass was dripping with moisture, and the longer grass was becoming dewed. This gave the best natural evidence of the rising of the dew that I ever witnessed. But everything was favourable for the observation--the cold air incumbent on the rising, warm, moist vapour from the soil fixing the dew-point, when the projecting blades seized the moisture greedily and formed dew. Had the temperature been a little below the freezing-point, hoar-frost would have been beautifully formed. CHAPTER V FOG To many nothing is more troublesome than a dense fog in a large town. It paralyses traffic, it is dangerous to pedestrians, it encourages theft, it chokes the asthmatic, and chills the weak-lunged. In the country it is disagreeable enough; but never so intensely raw and dense as in the city. On the sea, too, the fog is disagreeable and fraught with danger. The fog-horn is heard, in its deep, sombre note, from the lighthouse tower, when the strong artificial light is almost useless. But a peculiar sense of stagnation possesses the dweller of the large town, when enveloped in a dense fog. Sometimes during the day, through a thinner portion, the sun will be dimly seen in copper hue, like the moon under an eclipse. The smoke-impregnated mass assumes a peculiar "pea-soup" colour. Now, what is this fog? How is it formed? It has been ascertained that fogs are dependent upon _dust_ for their formation. Without dust there could be no fogs, there would be only dew on the grass and road. Instead of the dust-impregnated air that irritates the housekeeper, there would be the constant dripping of moisture on the walls, which would annoy her more. Ocular demonstration can testify to this. If two closed glass receivers be placed beside each other, the one containing ordinary air, and the other filtered air (_i.e._ air deprived of its dust by being driven through cotton wool), and if jets of steam be successively introduced into these, a strange effect is noticed. In the vessel containing common air the steam will be seen rising in a dense cloud; then a beautiful white foggy cloud will be formed, so dense that it cannot be seen through. But in the vessel containing the filtered air, the steam is not seen at all; there is not the slightest appearance of cloudiness. In the one case, where there was the ordinary atmospheric dust, fog at once appeared; in the other case, where there was no dust in suspension, the air remained clear and destitute of fog. Invisible dust, then, is necessary in the air for the formation of fogs. The reason of this is that a free-surface must exist for the condensation of the vapour-particles. The fine particles of dust in the air act as free-surfaces, on which the fog is formed. Where there is abundance of dust in the air and little water-vapour present, there is an over-proportion of dust-particles; and the fog-particles are, in consequence, closely packed, but light in form and small in size, and take the lighter appearance of fog. Accordingly, if the dust is increased in the air, there is a proportionate increase of fog. Every fog-particle, then, has embosomed in it an invisible dust-particle. But whence comes the dust? From many sources. It is organic and inorganic. So very fine is the inorganic dust in the atmosphere that, if the two-thousandth part of a grain of fine iron be heated, and the dust be driven off and carried into a glass receiver of filtered air, the introduction of a jet of steam into that receiver would at once occasion an appreciable cloudiness. This is why fogs are so prevalent in large towns. Next the minute brine-particles, driven into the air as fog forms above the ocean surface, are the burnt sulphur-particles emanating from the chimneys in towns. The brilliant flame, as well as the smoky flame, is a fog-producer. If gas is burnt in filtered air, intense fog is produced when water-vapour is introduced. Products of combustion from a clear fire and from a smoky one produce equal fogging. The fogs that densely fill our large towns are generally less bearable than those that veil the hills and overhang the rivers. It is the sulphur, however, from the consumed coals, which is the active producer of the fogs of a large town. The burnt sulphur condenses in the air to very fine particles, and the quantity of burnt sulphur is enormous. No less than seven and a half millions of tons of coals are consumed in London. Now, the average amount of sulphur in English coal is one and a quarter per cent. That would give no less than 93,750 tons of sulphur burned every year in London fires. Now, if we reckon that on an average twice the quantity of coals is consumed there on a winter day that is consumed on a summer day, no less than 347 tons of the products of combustion (in extremely fine particles) are driven into the superincumbent air of London every winter day. This is an enormous quantity, quite sufficient to account for the density of the fogs in that city. CHAPTER VI THE NUMBERING OF THE DUST If the shutters be all but closed in a room, when the sun is shining in, myriads of floating particles can be seen glistening in the stream of light. Their number seems inexhaustible. According to Milton, the follies of life are-- "Thick and numberless, As the gay motes that people the sunbeams." Can these, then, be counted? Yes, Dr. Aitken has numbered the dust of the air. I shall never forget my rapt astonishment the day I first numbered the dust in the lecture-room of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, with his instrument and under his direction. This wonderfully ingenious instrument was devised on this principle, that every fog-particle has entombed in it an invisible dust-particle. A definite small quantity of common air is diluted with a fixed large quantity of dustless air (_i.e._ air that has been filtered through cotton-wool). The mixture is allowed to be saturated with water-vapour. Then the few particles of dust seize the moisture, become visible in fine drops, fall on a divided plate, and are there counted by means of a magnifying glass. That is the secret! I shall now give you a general idea of the apparatus. Into a common glass flask of carafe shape, and flat-bottomed, of 30 cubic inches capacity, are passed two small tubes, at the end of one of which is attached a small square silver table, 1 inch in length. A little water having been inserted, the flask is inverted, and the table is placed exactly 1 inch from the inverted bottom, so that the contents of air right above the table are 1 cubic inch. This observing table is divided into 100 equal squares, and is highly polished, with the burnishing all in one direction, so that during the observations it appears dark, when the fine mist-particles glisten opal-like with the reflected light in order that they may be more easily counted. The tube to which the silver table is attached is connected with two stop-cocks, one of which can admit a small measured portion of the air to be examined. The other tube in the flask is connected with an air-pump of 10 cubic inches capacity. Over the flask is placed a covering, coloured black in the inside. In the top of this cover is inserted a powerful magnifying glass, through which the particles on the silver table can be easily counted. A little to the side of this magnifier is an opening in the cover, through which light is concentrated on the table. To perform the experiment, the air in the flask is exhausted by the air-pump. The flask is then filled with filtered air. One-tenth of a cubic inch of the air to be examined is then introduced into the flask, and mixed with the 30 cubic inches of dustless air. After one stroke of the air-pump, this mixed air is made to occupy an additional space of 10 cubic inches; and this rarefying of the air so chills it that condensation of the water-vapour takes place on the dust-particles. The observer, looking through the magnifying-glass upon the silver table, sees the mist-particles fall like an opal shower on the table. He counts the number on a single square in two or three places, striking an average in his mind. Suppose the average number upon a single square were five, then on the whole table there would be 500; and these 500 particles of dust are those which floated invisibly in the cubic inch of mixed air right above the table. But, as there are 40 cubic inches of mixed air in the flask and barrel, the number of dust-particles in the whole is 20,000. That is, there are 20,000 dust-particles in the same quantity of common air (one-tenth of a cubic inch) which was introduced for examination. In other words, a cubic inch of the air contained 200,000 dust-particles--nearly a quarter of a million. The day I used the instrument we counted 4,000,000 of dust-particles in a cubic inch of the air outside of the room, due to the quantity of smoke from the passing trains. Dr. Aitken has counted in 1 cubic inch of air immediately above a Bunsen flame the fabulous number of 489,000,000 of dust-particles. A small instrument has been constructed which can bring about results sufficiently accurate for ordinary purposes. It is so constructed that, when the different parts are unscrewed, they fit into a case 4-1/2 inches by 2-1/2 by 1-1/4 deep--about the size of an ordinary cigar-case. After knowing this, we are apt to wonder why our lungs do not get clogged up with the enormous number of dust-particles. In ordinary breathing, 30 cubic inches of air pass in and out at every breath, and adults breathe about fifteen times every minute. But the warm lung-surface repels the colder dust-particles, and the continuous evaporation of moisture from the surface of the air-tubes prevents the dust from alighting or clinging to the surface at all. CHAPTER VII DUST AND ATMOSPHERIC PHENOMENA Dr. Aitken has devoted a vast amount of attention to the enumeration of dust-particles in the air, on the Continent as well as in Scotland, to determine the effects of their variation in number. On his first visit to Hyères, in 1890, he counted with the instrument 12,000 dust-particles in a cubic inch of the air: whereas in the following year he counted 250,000. He observed, however, that where there was least dust, the air was very clear; whereas with the maximum of dust, there was a very thick haze. At Mentone, the corresponding number was 13,000, when the wind was blowing from the mountains; but increased to 430,000, when the wind was blowing from the populous town. On his first visit to the Rigi Kulm, in Switzerland, the air was remarkably clear and brilliant, and the corresponding number never exceeded 33,000; but, on his second visit, he counted no less than 166,000. This was accounted for by a thick haze, which rendered the lower Alps scarcely visible. The upper limit of the haze was well defined; and though the sky was cloudless, the sun looked like a harvest moon, and required no eagle's eye to keep fixed on it. Next day there was a violent thunder-storm. At 6 P.M. the storm commenced, and 60,000 dust-particles to the cubic inch of air were registered; but in the middle of the storm he counted only 13,000. There was a heavy fall of hail at this time, and he accounts for the diminution of dust-particles by the down-rush of purer upper air, which displaced the contaminated lower air. At the Lake of Lucerne there was an exceptional diminution of the number in the course of an hour, viz. from 171,000 to 28,000 in a cubic inch. On looking about, he found that the direction of the wind had changed, bringing down the purer upper air to the place of observation. The bending downwards of the trees by the strong wind showed that it was coming from the upper air. Returning to Scotland, he continued his observations at Ben Nevis and at Kingairloch, opposite Appin, Mr. Rankin using the instrument at the top of the mountain. These observations showed in general that on the mountain southerly, south-easterly, and easterly winds were more impregnated with dust-particles, sometimes containing 133,000 per cubic inch. Northerly winds brought pure air. The observations at sea-level showed a certain parallelism to those on the summit of the mountain. With a north-westerly wind the dust-particles reached the low number of 300 per cubic inch, the lowest recorded at any low-level station. The general deductions which he made from his numerous observations during these two years are that (1) air coming from inhabited districts is always impure; (2) dust is carried by the wind to enormous distances; (3) dust rises to the tops of mountains during the day; (4) with much dust there is much haze; (5) high humidity causes great thickness of the atmosphere, if accompanied by a great amount of dust, whereas there is no evidence that humidity alone has any effect in producing thickness; (6) and there is generally a high amount of dust with high temperature, and a low amount of dust with low temperature. CHAPTER VIII A FOG-COUNTER Next to the enumeration of the dust-particles in the atmosphere is the marvellous accuracy of counting the number of particles in a fog. The same ingenious inventor has constructed a fog-counter for the purpose; and the number of fog-particles in a cubic inch can be ascertained. This instrument consists of a glass micrometer divided into squares of a known size, and a strong microscope for observing the drops on the stage. The space between the micrometer and the microscope is open, so that the air passes freely over the stage; and the drops that fall on its surface are easily seen. These drops are very small; many of them when spread on the glass are no more than the five-hundredth of an inch in diameter. In observing these drops, the attention requires to be confined to a limited area of the stage, as many of the drops rapidly evaporate, some almost as soon as they touch the glass, whilst the large ones remain a few seconds. In one set of Dr. Aitken's observations, in February 1891, the fog was so thick that objects beyond a hundred yards were quite invisible. The number of drops falling per second varied greatly from time to time. The greatest number was 323 drops per square inch in one second. The high number never lasted for long, and in the intervals the number fell as low as 32, or to one-tenth. If we knew the size of these drops, we might be able to calculate the velocity of their fall, and from that obtain the number in a cubic inch. An ingenious addition is put to the instrument in order to ascertain this directly. It is constructed so as to ascertain the number of particles that fall from a known height. Under a low-power microscope, and concentric with it, is mounted a tube 2 inches long and 1-1/2 inch in diameter, with a bottom and a cover, which are fixed to an axis parallel with the axis of the tube, so that, by turning a handle, these can be slid sideways, closing or opening the tube at both ends when required. In the top is a small opening, corresponding to the lens of the microscope, and in the centre of the bottom is placed the observing-stage illumined by a spot-mirror. The handle is turned, and the ends are open to admit the foggy air. The handle is quickly reversed, and the ends are closed, enabling the observer to count on the stage all the fog-particles in the two inches of air over it. The number of dust-particles in the air which become centres of condensation depends on the rate at which the condensation is taking place. The most recent observations show that quick condensation causes a large number of particles to become active, whereas slow condensation causes a small number. After the condensation has ceased, a process of differentiation takes place, the larger particles robbing the smaller ones of their moisture, owing to the vapour-pressure at the surface of the drops of large curvature being less than at the surface of drops of smaller curvature. By this process the particles in a cloud are reduced in number; the remaining ones, becoming larger, fall quicker. The cloud thus becomes thinner for a time. A strong wind, suddenly arising, will cause the cloud-particles to be rapidly formed: these will be very numerous, but very small--so small that they are just visible with great care under a strong magnifying lens used in the instrument. But in slowly formed clouds the particles are larger, and therefore more easily visible to the naked eye. Though the particles in a fog are slightly finer, the number is about the same as in a cloud--that is, generally. As clouds vary in density, the number of particles varies. Sometimes in a cloud one cannot see farther than 30 yards; whereas in a few minutes it clears up a little, so that we can see 100 yards. Of course, the denser the cloud the greater the number of water-particles falling on the calculating-stage of the instrument. Very heavy falls of cloud-particles seldom last more than a few seconds, the average being about 325 on the square inch per second, the maximum reaching to 1290. This is about four times the number counted in a fog. Yet the particles are so very small that they evaporate instantly when they reach a slight increase of temperature. CHAPTER IX FORMATION OF CLOUDS In our ordinary atmosphere there can be no clouds without dust. A dust-particle is the nucleus that at a certain humidity becomes the centre of condensation of the water-vapour so as to form a cloud-particle; and a collection of these forms a cloud. This condensation of vapour round a number of dust-particles in visible form gives rise to a vast variety of cloud-shapes. There are two distinct ways in which the formation of clouds generally takes place. Either a layer of air is cooled in a body below the dew-point; or a mass of warm and moist air rises into a mass which is cold and dry. The first forms a cloud, called, from being a layer, _stratus_; the second forms a cloud, called, from its heap appearance, _cumulus_. The first is widely extended and horizontal, averaging 1800 feet in height; the second is convex or conical, like the head of a sheaf, increasing upward from a level base, averaging from 4500 feet to 6000 feet in height. There are endless combinations of these two; but at the height of 27,000 feet, where the cloud-particles are frozen, the structure of the cloud is finer, like "mares' tails," receiving the name _cirrus_. When the cirrus and cumulus are combined, in well-defined roundish masses, what is familiarly described as a "mackerel sky" is beautifully presented. The dark mass of cloud, called _nimbus_, is the threatening rain-cloud, about 4500 feet in height. At the International Meteorological Conference at Munich, in 1892, twelve varieties of clouds were classified, but those named above are the principal. In a beautiful sunset one can sometimes notice two or three distances of clouds, the sun shedding its gold light on the full front of one set, and only fringing with vivid light the nearer range. Although no man has wrought so hard as Dr. Aitken to establish the principle that clouds are mainly due to the existence of dust-particles which attract moisture on certain conditions, yet even twenty years ago he said that it was probable that sunshine might cause the formation of nuclei and allow cloudy condensation to take place where there was no dust. Under certain conditions the sun gives rise to a great increase in the number of nuclei. Accordingly, he has carefully tested a few of the ordinary constituents and impurities in our atmosphere to see if sunshine acted on them in such a way as to make them probable formers of cloud-particles. He tested various gases, with more or less success. He found that ordinary air, after being deprived of its dust-particles and exposed to sunshine, does not show any cloudy condensation on expansion; but, when certain gases are in the dustless air, a very different result is obtained. He first used ammonia, putting one drop into six cubic inches of water in a flask, and sunning this for one minute; the result was a considerable quantity of condensation, even with such a weak solution. When the flask was exposed for five minutes, the condensation by the action of the sunshine was made more dense. Hydrogen peroxide was tested in the same way, and it was found to be a powerful generator of nuclei. Curious is it that sulphurous acid is puzzling to the experimentalist for cloud formation. It gives rise to condensation in the dark; but sunshine very conclusively increases the condensation. Chlorine causes condensation to take place without supersaturation; sulphuretted hydrogen (which one always associates with the smell of rotten eggs) gives dense condensation after being exposed to sunshine. Though the most of these nuclei, due to the action of sunshine in the gases, remain active for cloudy condensation for a comparatively short space of time--fifteen minutes to half-an-hour--yet the experiments show that it is possible for the cloudy condensation to take place in certain circumstances in the absence of dust. This seems paradoxical in the light of the former beautiful experiments; but, in ordinary circumstances, dust is needed for the formation of clouds. However, supposing there is any part of the upper air free from dust, it is now found possible, when any of these gases experimented on be present, for the sun to convert them into nuclei of condensation, and permit of clouds being formed in dustless air, miles above the surface of the earth. In the lower atmosphere there are always plenty of dust-particles to form cloudy condensation, whether the sun shines or not. These are produced by the waste from the millions of meteors that daily fall into the air. But in the higher atmosphere, clouds can be formed by the action of the sun's rays on certain gases. This is a great boon to us on the earth; for it assures us of clouds being ever existing to defend us from the sun's extra-powerful rays, even when our atmosphere is fairly clear. This is surely of some meteorological importance. CHAPTER X DECAY OF CLOUDS From the earliest ages clouds have attracted the attention of observers. Varied are their forms and colours, yet in our atmosphere there is one law in their formation. Cloud-particles are formed by the condensation of water-vapour on the dust-particles invisibly floating in the atmosphere, up to thousands--and even millions--in the cubic inch of air. But observers have not directed their attention so much to the decay of clouds--in fact, the subject is quite new. And yet how suggestive is the subject! The process of decay in clouds takes place in various ways. A careful observer may witness the gradual wasting away and dilution into thin air of even great stretches of cloud, when circumstances are favourable. In May 1896 my attention was particularly drawn to this at my manse in Strathmore. In the middle of that exceptionally sultry month, I was arrested by a remarkable transformation scene. It was the hottest May for seventy-two years, and the driest for twenty-five years. The whole parched earth was thirsting for rain. All the morning my eyes were turned to the clouds in the hope that the much-desired shower should fall. Till ten o'clock the sun was not seen, and there was no blue in the sky. Nor was there any haze or fog. But suddenly the sun shone through a thinner portion of the enveloping clouds, and, to the north, the sky began to open. As if by some magic spell there was, in a quarter of an hour, more blue to be seen than clouds. At the same time, near the horizon, a haze was forming, gradually becoming denser as time wore on. In an hour the whole clouds were gone, and the glorious orb of day dispelled the moisture to its thin-air form. This was a pointed and rapid illustration of the decay from cloud-form to haze, and then to the pure vapoury sky. It was an instance of the _reverse_ process. As the sun cleared through, the temperature in the cloud-land rose and evaporation took place on the surface of the cloud-particles, until by an untraceable, but still a gradual process through fog, the haze was formed. Even then the heat was too great for a definite haze, and the water-vapour returned to the air, leaving the dust-particles in invisible suspension. But clouds decay in another way. This I will illustrate in the next chapter on "It always rains." What strikes a close observer is the difference of structure in clouds which are in the process of formation and those which are in the process of decay. In the former the water-particles are much smaller and far more numerous than in the latter. While the particles in clouds in decay are large enough to be seen with the unaided eye, when they fall on a properly lighted measuring table, they are so small in clouds in rapid formation that the particles cannot be seen without the aid of a strong magnifying glass. Observers have assumed that the whole explanation of the fantastic shapes taken by clouds is founded on the process of formation; but Dr. Aitken has pointed out that ripple-marked clouds, for instance, have been clouds of decay. When what is called a cirro-stratus cloud--mackerel-like against the blue sky--is carefully observed in fine weather, it will be found that it frequently changes the ripple-marked cirrus in the process of decay to vanishing. Where the cloud is thin enough to be broken through by the clear air that is drawn in between the eddies, the ripple markings get nearer and nearer the centre, as the cloud decays. And, at last, when nearly dissolved, these markings are extended quite across the cloud. Whether, then, we consider the cases of clouds gradually melting away back into their original state of blue water-vapour, or the constant fine raining from clouds and re-formation by evaporation, or the transformation of such clouds as the cirro-stratus into the ripple-marked cirrus, we are forced to the conclusion that in clouds there is not always development, but sometimes degeneration; not always formation, but sometimes decay. CHAPTER XI IT ALWAYS RAINS All are familiar with the answer given by the native of Skye to the irate tourist on that island, who, for the sixth day drenched, asked the question: "Does it always rain here?" "Na!" answered the workman, without at all understanding the joke; "feiles it snaas" (sometimes it snows). Yet, strange to say, the tourist's question has been answered in the affirmative in every place where a cloud is overhead, visible or invisible. Whenever a cloud is formed, it begins to rain; and the drops shower down in immense numbers, though most minute in size--"the playful fancies of the mighty sky." No doubt it is only in certain circumstances that these drops are attracted together so as to form large drops, which fall to the earth in genial showers to refresh the thirsty soil, or in a terrible deluge to cause great destruction. But when the temperature and pressure are not suitable for the formation of what we commonly know as the rain, the fine drops fall into the air under the cloud, where they immediately evaporate from their dust free-surfaces, if the air is dry and warm. This is, in other words, the decay of clouds. It is a curious fact that objects in a fog may not be wetted, when the number of water-particles is great. It seems that these water-particles all evaporate so quickly that even one's hand or face is not sensible of being wetted. The particles are minutely small; and they may evaporate even before reaching the warm skin, by reason of the heated air over the skin. There is a peculiarly warm sensation in the centre of a cumulus cloud, especially when it is not dense. A glow of heat seems to radiate from all points. Yet the face and hands are quite dry, and exposed objects are not wetted; but it is really _always raining_. That is a curious discovery. It is radiant heat that is the cause of the remarkable result. The rays of the sun, which strike the upper part of the cloud, not only heat that surface but also penetrate the cloud and fall on the surface of bodies within, generating heat there. These heated surfaces again radiate heat into the air attached to them. This warm air receives the fine raindrops in the cloud, and dissolves the moisture from the dust-particles before the moisture can reach the surfaces exposed. That a vast amount of radiant heat rushes through a cloud is clearly shown by exposing a thermometer with black bulb _in vacuo_. On some occasions, a thermometer would indicate from 40° to 50° above the temperature of the air, thus proving the surface to be quite dry. These observations have been corroborated on Mount Pilatus, near Lucerne--1000 feet higher and more isolated than the Rigi. The summit was quite enveloped in cloud, and, though one might naturally conclude that the air was dense with moisture, yet the wooden seats, walls, and all exposed surfaces were quite dry. Strange to say, however, the thermometers hung up got wet rapidly, and the pins driven into the wooden post to support them rapidly became moist. A thermometer lying on a wooden seat stood at 60°, while one hung up read only 48°. This difference was caused by radiant heat. It is well known that, when bodies are exposed to radiant heat, they are heated in proportion to their size; the smaller, then, may be moist, when the larger are dry by radiation. The effect of the sun's penetrating heat through the cloud is to heat exposed objects above the temperature of the air; and if the objects are of any size they are considerably heated, and retain their heat more, while at the same time around them is a layer of warm air which is quite sufficient to force the water-vapour to leave the dust-particles in the fine rain. Hence seats, walls, posts, &c., are quite dry, though they are in the middle of a cloud. They are large enough to throw off the moisture by the retained heat, or by the large amount of surrounding heat; whereas, small bodies, which are not heated to the same degree and cannot therefore retain their heat so easily, have not heat-power sufficient to withstand the moisture, and they become wetted. Hence, by the radiant heat, the large exposed objects are dry in the cloud; whereas small objects are damp, and, in some cases, dripping with wet. The fact is, then, that whenever a cloud overhangs, _rain is falling_, though it may not reach the earth on account of the dryness of the stratum of air below the cloud, and the heat of the air over the earth. So that on a summer day, with the gold-fringed, fleecy clouds sailing overhead, it is really raining; but the drops, being very small, evaporate long before reaching the earth. As Ariel sings at the end of "The Tempest" of Shakespeare, "The rain, it raineth every day." It rains, but much of the melting of the clouds is reproduced by a wonderful circularity--the moisture evaporating, seizing other dust-particles, forming cloud-particles, falling again, and so on _ad infinitum_, during the existing circumstances. CHAPTER XII HAZE What is haze? The dictionary says, "a fog." Well, haze is _not_ a fog. In a fog, the dust-particles in the air have been fully clothed with water-vapour; in a haze, the process of condensation has been arrested. Cloudy condensation is changed to haze by the reduction of its humidity. Dr. Aitken invented a simple apparatus for testing the condensing power of dust, and observing if water-vapour condensed on the deposited dust in unsaturated air. The dust from the air has first to be collected. This is done by placing a glass plate vertically, and in close contact with one of the panes of glass in the window, by means of a little india-rubber solution. The plate being thus rendered colder than the air in the room, the dust is deposited on it. Construct a rectangular box, with a square bottom, 1-1/2 inches a side and 3/4 inch deep, and open at the top. Cover the top edge of the box with a thickness of india-rubber. Place the dusty plate--a square glass mirror, 4 inches a side--on the top of the india-rubber, and hold it down by spring catches, so as to make the box water-tight. The box has been provided with two pipes, one for taking in water and the other for taking away the overflow, with the bulb of a thermometer in the centre. Clean the dust carefully off one half of the mirror, so that one half of the glass covering the box is clean and the other half dusty. Pour cold water through the pipe into the box, so as to lower the temperature of the mirror, and carefully observe when condensation begins on the clean part and on the dusty part, taking a note of the difference of temperature. The condensation of the water-vapour will appear on the dust-particles before coming down to the natural dew-point temperature of the clean glass. And the difference between the two temperatures indicates the temperature above the dew-point at which the dust has condensed the water-vapour. Magnesia dust has small affinity for water-vapour; accordingly, it condenses at almost exactly the same temperature as the glass. But gunpowder has great condensing power. All have noticed that the smoke from exploded gunpowder is far more dense in damp than in dry weather. In the experiment it will be found that the dust from gunpowder smoke begins to show signs of condensing the vapour at a temperature of 9° Fahr. above the dew-point. In the case of sodium dust, the vapour is condensed from the air at a temperature of 30° above the dew-point. Dust collected in a smoking-room shows a decidedly greater condensing power than that from the outer air. We can now understand why the glass in picture frames and other places sometimes appears damp when the air is not saturated. When in winter the windows are not often cleaned, a damp deposit may be frequently seen on the glass. Any one can try the experiment. Clean one half of a dusty pane of glass in cold weather, and the clean part will remain undewed and clear, while the dusty part is damp to the eye and greasy to the touch. These observations indicate that moisture is deposited on the dust-particles from air, which is not saturated, and that the condensation takes place while the air is comparatively dry, _before_ the temperature is lowered to the dew-point. There is, then, no definite demarcation between what seems to us clear air and thick haze. The clearest air has some haze, and, as the humidity increases, the thickness of the air increases. In all haze the temperature is above the dew-point. The dust-particles have only condensed a very small amount of the moisture so as to form haze, before the fuller condensation takes place at the dew-point. At the Italian lakes, on many occasions when the air is damp and still, every stage of condensation may be observed in close proximity, not separated by a hard and fast line, but when no one could determine where the clear air ended and the cloud began. Sometimes in the sky overhead a gradual change can be observed from perfect clearness to thick air, and then the cloud. A thick haze may be occasioned by an increased number of dust-particles with little moisture, or of a diminished number of dust-particles with much moisture, above the point of saturation. The haze is cleared by this temperature rising, so as to allow the moisture to evaporate from the dust-particles. Whenever the air is dry and hazy, much dust is found in it; as the dust decreases the haze also decreases. For example, Dr. Aitken, at Kingairloch, in one of the clearest districts of Argyleshire, on a clear July afternoon, counted 4000 dust-particles in a cubic inch of the air; whereas, two days before, in thick haze, he counted no fewer than 64,000 in the cubic inch. At Dumfries the number counted on a very hazy day in October increased twenty-fold over the number counted the day before, when it was clear. All know that thick haze is usual in very sultry weather. The wavy, will-o'-the-wisp ripples near the horizon indicate its presence very plainly. During the intense heat there is generally much dust in the atmosphere; this dust, by the high temperature, attracts moisture from the apparently dry air, though above the saturation point. In all circumstances, then, the haze can be accounted for by the condensing power of the dust-particles in the atmosphere, at a higher temperature than that required for the formation of fogs, or mists, or rain. CHAPTER XIII HAZING EFFECTS OF ATMOSPHERIC DUST The transparency of the atmosphere is very much destroyed by the impurities communicated to it while passing over the inhabited areas of the country. Dr. Aitken devoted eighteen months to compare the amount of dusty impurities in different masses of air, or of different airs brought in by winds from different directions. He took Falkirk for his centre of observations. This town lies a little to the north of a line drawn between Edinburgh and Glasgow, and is nearly midway between them. If we draw a line due west from it, and another due north, we find that, in the north-west quadrant so enclosed, the population of that part of Scotland is extremely thin, the country over that area being chiefly mountainous. In all other directions, the conditions are quite different. In the north-east quadrant are the fairly well-populated areas of Aberdeenshire, Forfarshire, and the thickly populated county of Fife. In the south-east quadrant are situated Edinburgh and the well-populated districts of the south-east of Scotland. And in the south-west quadrant are Glasgow and the large manufacturing towns which surround it. The winds from three of these quadrants bring air polluted in its passage over populated areas, whereas the winds from the north-west come comparatively pure. The general plan of estimating the amount of haze is to note the most distant hill that can be seen through the haze. The distance in miles of the farthest away hill visible is then called "the limit of visibility" of the air at the time. For the observations made at Falkirk, only three hills are available, one about four miles distant, the Ochils about fifteen miles distant, and Ben Ledi about twenty-five miles distant--all in the north-west quadrant. When the air is thick, only the near hill can be seen; then the Ochils become visible as the air clears; and at last Ben Ledi is seen, when the haze becomes still less. After Ben Ledi is visible, it then becomes necessary to estimate the amount of haze on it, in order to get the limit of visibility of the air at the time. Thus, if Ben Ledi be half-hazed, then the limit of visibility will be fifty miles. In this way all the estimates of haze have been reduced to one scale for comparison. As the result of all the observations it was found that, as the dryness of the air increases, the limit of visibility also increases. A very marked difference in the transparency of the air was found with winds from the different directions. In the north-west quadrant the winds made the air very clear, whereas winds from all other directions made the air very much hazed. The winds in the other three areas are nearly ten times more hazed than those from the north-west quadrant. That is very striking. The conclusion come to is that the air from densely inhabited districts is so polluted that it is fully nine times more hazed than the air that comes from the thinly inhabited districts; in other words, the atmosphere at Falkirk is about ten times thicker when the wind is east or south than it would be if there were no fires and no inhabitants. It is interesting to notice that the limit varies considerably for the same wind at the same humidity. This is what might have been expected, because from the observations made by the dust-counter the number of particles varied greatly in winds from the same directions, but at different times. This depends upon the rise and fall of the wind, changes in the state of trade, season of the year, and other causes. During a strike, the dearth of coal will make a considerable diminution in the number of dust-particles in the air of large towns. With a north wind, the extreme limits of visibility are 120 to 200 miles; and with a north-west wind, from 70 to 250 miles. An east wind has as limits 4 to 50 miles, and a south-east wind 2 to 60 miles. One interesting fact to be noticed, after wading through these tables, is this--that, as a general result, the transparency of the air increases about 3·7 times for any increase in dryness from 2° to 8° of wet-bulb depression. That is, the clearness of the air is inversely proportional to the relative humidity; or, put another way, if the air is four times drier it is about four times clearer. CHAPTER XIV THUNDER CLEARS THE AIR The phrase "thunder clears the air" is familiar to all. It contains a very vital truth, yet even scientific men did not know its full meaning until just the other day. It came by experience to people who had been for ages observing the weather; and it is one of the most pointed of the "weather-lore" expressions. Folks got to know, by a sort of rule-of-thumb, truths which scientifically they were unable to learn. And this is one. Perhaps, therefore, we should respect a little more what is called "folk-lore," or ordinary people's sayings. Experience has taught men many wonderful things. In olden times they were keener natural observers. They had few books, but they had plenty of time. They studied the habits of animals and moods of nature, and they came wonderfully near to reaching the full truth, though they could not give a reason for it. The awe-inspiring in nature has especially riveted the attention of man. And no appearance in nature joins more powerfully the elements of grandeur and awe than a heavy thunder-storm. When, suddenly, from the breast of a dark thunder-cloud a brilliant flash of light darts zigzag to the earth, followed by a loud crackling noise which softens in the distance into weaker volumes of sound, terror seizes the birds of the air and the cattle in the field. The man who is born to rule the storm rejoices in the powerful display; but kings have trembled at the sight. Byron thus pictures a storm in the Alps:-- "Far along From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!" Franklin found that lightning is just a kind of electricity. No one can tell how it is produced; yet a flash has been photographed. When the flash is from one cloud to another there is sheet-lightning, which is beautiful but not dangerous; but, when the electricity passes from a cloud to the earth in a forked form, it is very dangerous indeed. The flash is instantaneous, but the sound of the thunder takes some time to travel. Roughly speaking, the sound takes five seconds or six beats of the pulse to the mile. All are now taught at school that it is the oxygen in the air which is necessary to keep us in life. If mice are put into a glass jar of pure oxygen gas, they will at once dance with exhilarating joy. It occurred to Sir Benjamin Richardson, some time ago, that it would be interesting to continue some experiments with animals and oxygen. He put a number of mice into a jar of pure oxygen for a time; they breathed in the gas, and breathed out water-vapour and carbonic acid. After the mice had continued this for some time, he removed them by an arrangement. By chemical means he removed the water-vapour and carbonic acid from the mixed air in the vessel. When a blown-out taper was inserted, it at once burst into flame, showing that the remaining gas was oxygen. Again, the mice were put into this vessel to breathe away. But, strange to say, the animals soon became drowsy; the smartness of the oxygen was gone. At last they died; there was nothing in the gas to keep them in life; yet, by the ordinary chemical tests, it was still oxygen. It had repeatedly passed through the lungs of the mice, and during this passage there had been an action in the air-cells which absorbed the life-giving element of the gas. It is oxygen, so far as chemistry is concerned, but it has no life-giving power. It has been _devitalised_. But the startling discovery still remains. Sir Benjamin had previously fitted up the vessel with two short wires, opposite each other in the sides--part outside and part inside. Two wires are fastened to the outside knobs. These wires are attached to an electric machine, and a flash of electricity is made to pass between the inner points of the vessel. The wires are again removed; nothing strange is seen in the vessel. But, when living mice are put into the vessel, they dance as joyfully as if pure oxygen were in it. The oxygen in which the first mice died has now been quite refreshed by the electricity. The bad air has been cleared and made life-supporting by the electric discharge. It has been again vitalised. Now, to apply this: before a thunder-storm, everything has been so still for days that the oxygen in the air has been to some extent robbed of its life-sustaining power. The air feels "close," a feeling of drowsiness comes over all. But, after the air has been pierced by several flashes of lightning, the life-force in the air is restored. Your spirits revive; you feel restored; your breathing is far freer; your drowsiness is gone. Then there is a burst of heavenly music from the exhilarated birds. Thus a thunder-storm "clears the air." After the passage of lightning through the air ozone is produced--the gas that is produced after a flash of electricity. It is a kind of oxygen, with fine exciting effects on the body. If, then, the life-sustaining power of oxygen depends on a trace of ozone, and this is being made by lightning's work, how pleased should we be at the occasional thunder-storm! CHAPTER XV DISEASE-GERMS IN THE AIR The gay motes that dance in the sunbeams are not all harmless. All are annoying to the tidy housekeeper; but some are dangerous. There are living particles that float in the air as the messengers of disease and death. Some, falling on fresh wounds, find there a suitable feeding-place; and, if not destroyed, generate the deadly influence. Others are drawn in with the breath; and, unless the lungs can withstand them, they seize hold and spread some sickness or disease. From stagnant pools, common sewers, and filthy rooms, disease-germs are constantly contaminating the air. Yet these can be counted. The simplest method is that of Professor Frankland. It depends on this principle: a certain quantity of air is drawn through some cotton-wool; this wool seizes the organisms as the air passes through; these organisms are afterwards allowed to feed upon a suitable nutritive medium until they reach maturity; they are then counted easily. About an inch from each end of a glass tube (5 inches long and 1 inch bore), the glass is pressed in during the process of blowing. Some cotton-wool is squeezed in to form a plug at the farther constricted part of the glass. The important plug is now inserted at the same open end, but is not allowed to go beyond the constricted part at its end. A piece of long lead tubing is attached to the former end by an india-rubber tube. The other end of the lead tubing is connected with an exhausting syringe. Sixty strokes of the 18 cubic inches syringe will draw 1080 cubic inches of the air to be examined through the plugs, the first retaining the organisms. The impregnated plug is then put into a flask containing in solution some gelatine-peptone. The flask is made to revolve horizontally until an almost perfectly even film of gelatine and the organisms from the broken-up plug cover its inner surface. The flask is allowed to remain for an hour in a cool place, and is then placed under a bell-jar, at a temperature of 70° Fahr. There it remains, to allow the germs to incubate, for four or five days. The surface of the flask having been previously divided into equal parts by ink lines, the counting is now commenced. If the average be taken for each segment, the number of the whole is easily ascertained. A simple arithmetical calculation then determines the number of organisms in a cubic foot, since the number is known for the 1080 cubic inches. That is the process for determining the number of living organisms in a fixed quantity of air. No less than thirty colonies of organisms were counted in a cubic foot of air taken from the Golden Gallery of St. Paul's Cathedral, London, and 140 from the air of the churchyard. An ordinary man would breathe there thirty-six micro-organisms every minute. Electricity has a powerful effect in destroying these organisms. Ozone is generated in the air by lightning, and it is detrimental to them. In fine ozoned Highland air scarcely a disease-germ can be detected. Open sea air contains about one germ in two cubic feet. It has been found that in Paris the average in summer is about 140 per cubic foot of air, but in bedrooms the number is double. During the twenty-four hours of the day the number of germs is highest about 6 A.M., and lowest about mid-day. Raindrops carry the germs to the ground. Hence the advantage of a thunder plout in a sanitary way. A cubic foot of rain has been found to contain 5500 organic dust-germs, besides 7,000,000,000 of inorganic dust-particles. In a dirty town the rain will bring down in a year, upon a square foot of surface, no less than 3,000,000 of bacteria, many of them being disease-bearing and death-bearing. No wonder, then, that scientific men are using every endeavour to protect the human frame, as well as the frame of the lower animals, from the baneful inroads of these floating nuclei of disease and death. CHAPTER XVI A CHANGE OF AIR For weakness of body and fatigue of mind a very common and essentially serviceable recommendation is "a change of air." Of course, the change of scene from coast to country, or from town to hillside, may help much the depressed in body or mind; and this is very commendable. But, strange to say, there is a healing virtue in breathing different air. At first one is apt to think that air is the same all over, as he thinks water is--especially outside smoky towns; but both have varied qualities in different parts. You have only to be assured that in a cubic inch of bedroom air in the denser parts of a large town there are about 20,000,000 of dust-particles, and in the open air of a heathery mountain-side there are only some hundreds, to see that there is something after all on the face of it in the "old wives' saw." Not that the dust-particles are all injurious; for most of them are inorganic, and many of the organic particles are quite wholesome; yet there is a change wrought, often very marked, in going from one place to another for different air. Even in the country, especially in summer-time, one distinctly notices the great difference in the air of lowland and highland localities. The ten miles change from Strathmore to Glenisla shows a marked difference in the air. Below, it is close, weakening, enervating; above, it is exhilarating, invigorating, and strong. So people must have a change--at least those who can afford it--for health must be seen to first of all, if one has means to do so. Oh! the blessing of good health! How many who enjoy it never think of the misery of its loss! In fact, health is the soul that animates all enjoyments of life; for without it those would soon be tasteless. A man starves at the best-spread table, and is poor in the midst of the greatest treasures without health. In these days half of our diseases come from the neglect of the body in the overwork of the brain. The wear and tear of labour and intellect go on without pause or self-pity. Men may live as long as their forefathers, but they suffer more from a thousand artificial anxieties and cares. The men of old fatigued only the muscles, we exhaust the finer strength of the nerves. Even more so now, then, do we require a change of air to soothe our overwrought nervous system. And when that magic power, concealed from mortal view, works such wonders on the health, surely it is one's duty to save up and have it, when it is within one's means. For is not health the greatest of all possessions? What a rich colour clothes the countenance of the young after a month's outing in the hill country! How fine and pure has the blood become! All stagnant humours, accumulated in winter town life, have been dispelled by the ozone-brightening charm. The weary looking office or shop man is now transfigured into a sprightly youth once more, ready with strongly recuperated power for another winter's labours. The pale wife, who has been stifled for months in close-aired rooms, has now a healthy flush on her becoming countenance that speaks of gladly restored health. And all this has been brought about by a "change of air"! For a thorough change to a town man, he should make for the Highlands. There he is never tired of walking, for the air which he breathes is full of ozone. This revivifying element in the air is produced by the lightning-bursts from hill to hill. There is in the Highlands a continual rush of electricity, whether seen or not. Hence the air is very pure, free from organic germs, intensely exhilarating and buoyant. Sportsmen are livingly aware of the recuperative power of the Highland air. Perhaps these city men do not benefit so much by the easy walking exercise on the grouse moors as in breathing the splendidly delight-inspiring air. What a change one feels there in a very few hours! "A change of air" is an old wives' adage. But much of the weather-lore of our forefathers was based on real scientific principles only now coming to light. Nature is ever true, but it requires patience to unravel her secrets. We therefore advocate an occasional "change of air" to improve the health-- "The chiefest good, Bestow'd by Heaven, but seldom understood." CHAPTER XVII THE OLD MOON IN THE NEW MOON'S ARMS After the sun's broad beams have tired the sight, the moon with more sober light charms us to descry her beauty, as she shines sublimely in her virgin modesty. There is always a most fascinating freshness in the first sight of the new moon. The superstition of centuries adds to this charm. Why boys and girls like to turn over a coin in their pocket at this sight one cannot tell: yet it is done. No young lady likes to look at the new moon through a pane of glass. And farmers are always confident of a change of weather with a new moon: at least in bad weather they earnestly hope for it. But, banishing all superstition, we welcome the pale silver sickle in the heavens, once more appearing from the bosom of the azure. And no language can equal these beautiful words of the youthful Shelley:-- "Like the young moon, When on the sunlit limits of the night Her white shell trembles amid crimson air, And while the sleeping tempest gathers might, Doth, as the herald of his coming, bear The ghost of its dead mother, whose dim form Bends in dark ether from her infant's chair." That is a more charming way of putting the ordinary expression, "the old moon in the new moon's arms." We are regularly accustomed to the moonshine, but only occasionally is the _earthshine_ on the moon so regulated that the shadowed part is visible. This is not seen at the appearance of every new moon. It depends upon the positions of the sun and moon, the state of the atmosphere, and the absence of heavy clouds. I never in my life saw the phenomenon so marvellously beautiful as on May 7th, 1894, at my manse in Strathmore. I took particular note of it, as some exceedingly curious things were connected with it. At nine o'clock in the evening, the new moon issued from some clouds in the western heavens, the sun having set, about an hour before. The crescent was thin and silvery, and the outline of the shadowed part was just visible. The sky near the horizon was clear and greenish-hued. As the night advanced the moon descended, and at ten o'clock she was approaching a purple stratum of clouds that stretched over the hills, while the position of the sun was only known a little to the east, by the back-thrown light upon the dim sky. Through the moisture-laden air the sun's rays, reflected by the moon, threw a golden stream from the crescent moon, for the silvery shell became more golden-hued. The horns of the moon now seemed to project, and the shadowed part became more distinct, though the circle appeared smaller. By means of a field-glass I noticed that this was extra lighted, with points here and there quite golden-tinged. The darker spots showed the deep caverns; the brighter points brought into relief the mountain peaks. Why was the surface brighter than usual? I cannot go into detail about the phases of the moon; but, in a word, I may say that, while the sun can illuminate the side of the moon turned towards it, it is unable to throw any light on the shadow, seeing that there is no atmosphere around the moon to refract the light. If we, in imagination, looked from the moon upon the earth, we should see the same phases as are now noticed in the moon; and when it is just before new moon on the earth, the earth will appear fully illuminated from the moon. We would also observe (from the moon) that the brightness of the illuminated part of the earth would vary from time to time, according to the changes in the earth's atmosphere. More light would be reflected to the moon from the clouds in our atmosphere than from the bare earth or cloudless sea, since clouds reflect more light than either land or sea. Accordingly, we arrive at this curious fact--that the extra brightness of the _dark_ body of the moon is mainly determined by the amount of _cloud in our atmosphere_. Accordingly, I concluded that there must be clouds to the west, though I could not see them, which reflected rays of light and faintly illuminated the shadowed part of the moon. It had become much colder, and I concluded that during the night the cloud-particles, if driven near by the wind, would condense into rain. And, assuredly, next morning I was gratified to find that rain had fallen in large quantities, substantiating the theory. There is much pleasure in verifying such an interesting problem. The dark body of the moon being more than usually visible is one of our well-known and oldest indications of coming bad weather. And at once came to my memory the lines of Sir Patrick Spens, as he foreboded rain for his crossing the North Sea:-- "I saw the new moon late yestreen Wi' the auld moon in her arm; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm." This lunar indication, then, has a sound physical basis, showing that near the observer there are vast areas of clouds, which are reflecting light upon the moon at the time, before they condense into rain by the chilling of the air. According to the old Greek poet, Aratus: "If the new moon is ruddy, and you can trace the shadow of the complete circle, a storm is approaching." CHAPTER XVIII AN AUTUMN AFTERGLOW A brilliant afterglow is welcomed for its surpassing beauty and a precursor of fine fixed weather. A glorious sunset has always had a charm for the lover of nature's beauties. The zenith spreads its canopy of sapphire, and not a breath creeps through the rosy air. A magnificent array of clouds of numberless shapes come smartly into view. Some, far off, are voyaging their sun-bright paths in silvery folds; others float in golden groups. Some masses are embroidered with burning crimson; others are like "islands all lovely in an emerald sea." Over the glowing sky are splendid colourings. The flood of rosy light looks as if a great conflagration were below the horizon. I remember witnessing an especially brilliant sunset last autumn on the high-road between Kirriemuir and Blairgowrie. The setting sun shone upon the back of certain long trailing clouds which were much nearer me than a range behind. The fringes of the front range were brilliantly golden, while the face of those behind was sparklingly bright. Then the sun disappeared over the western hills, and his place was full of spokes of living light. Looking eastward, I observed on the horizon the base of the northern line of a beautiful rainbow--"the shepherd's delight" for fine weather. Soon in the west the light faded; but there came out of the east a lovely flush, and the general sky was presently flamboyant with afterglow. The front set of clouds was darker except on the edges, the red being on the clouds behind; and the horizon in the east was particularly rich with dark red hues. Gradually the eastern glow rose and reddened all the clouds, but the front clouds were still grey. The effect was very fine in contrast. The fleecy clouds overhead became transparently light red, as they stretched over to reach the silver-streaked west. The new moon was just appearing upright against a slightly less bright opening in the sky, betokening the firm hardness of autumn. Soon the colouring melted away, and the peaceful reign of the later twilight possessed the land. Now why that brilliancy of the east, when the west was colourless? Most of all you note the immense variety and wealth of reds. These are due to dust in the atmosphere. We are the more convinced of this by the very remarkable and beautiful sunsets which occurred after the tremendous eruption at Krakatoa, in the Straits of Sunda, thirty years ago. There was then ejected an enormous quantity of fine dust, which spread over the whole world's atmosphere. So long as that vast amount of dust remained in the air did the sunsets and afterglows display an exceptional wealth of colouring. All observers were struck with the vividly brilliant red colours in all shades and tints. The minute particles of dust in the atmosphere arrest the sun's rays and scatter them in all directions; they are so small, however, that they cannot reflect and scatter all; their power is limited to the scattering of the rays at the blue end of the spectrum, while the red rays pass on unarrested. The display of the colours of the blue end are found in numberless shades, from the full deep blue in the zenith to the greenish-blue near the horizon. If there were no fine dust-particles in the upper strata, the sunset effect would be whiter; if there were no large dust-particles, there would be no colouring at all. If there were no dust-particles in the air at all, the light would simply pass through into space without revealing itself, and the moment the sun disappeared there would be total darkness. The very existence of our twilight depends on the dust in the air; and its length depends on the amount and extension upwards of the dust-particles. But how have the particles been increased in size in the east? Because, as the sun was sinking, but before its rays failed to illumine the heavens, the temperature of the air began to fall. This cooling made the dust-particles seize the water-vapour to form haze-particles of a larger size. The particles in the east first lose the sun's heat, and first become cool; and the rays of light are then best sifted, producing a more distinct and darker red. As the sun dipped lower, the particles overhead became a turn larger, and thereby better reflected the red rays. Accordingly, the roseate bands in the east spread over to the zenith, and passed over to the west, producing in a few minutes a universal transformation glow. To produce the full effect often witnessed, there must be, besides the ordinary dust-particles, small crystals floating in the air, which increase the reflection from their surfaces and enhance the glow effects. In autumn, after sunset, the water-covered dust-particles become frozen and the red light streams with rare brilliancy, causing all reddish and coloured objects to glow with a rare brightness. Then the air glows with a strange light as of the northern dawn. From all this it is clear that, though the colouring of sunset is produced by the direct rays of the sun, the afterglow is produced by reflection, or, rather, radiation from the illuminated particles near the horizon. The effect in autumn is a stream of red light, of varied tones, and rare brilliancy in all quarters, unseen during the warmer summer. We have to witness the sunsets at Ballachulish to be assured that Waller Paton really imitated nature in the characteristic bronze tints of his richly painted landscapes. CHAPTER XIX A WINTER FOREGLOW Little attention has been paid to foreglows compared with afterglows, either with regard to their natural beauty or their weather forecasting. But either the ordinary red-cloud surroundings at sunrise, or the western foreglow at rarer intervals, betokens to the weather-prophet wet and gloomy weather. The farmer and the sailor do not like the sight, they depend so much on favourable weather conditions. Of course, sunrise to the æsthetic observer has always its charms. The powerful king of day rejoices "as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber" as he steps upon the earth over the dewy mountain tops, bathing all in light, and spreading gladness and deep joy before him. The lessening cloud, the kindling azure, and the mountain's brow illumined with golden streaks, mark his approach; he is encompassed with bright beams, as he throws his unutterable love upon the clouds, "the beauteous robes of heaven." Aslant the dew-bright earth and coloured air he looks in boundless majesty abroad, touching the green leaves all a-tremble with gold light. But glorious, and educating, and inspiring as is the sunrise in itself in many cases, there is occasionally something very remarkable that is connected with it. Rare is it, but how charming when witnessed, though till very recently it was all but unexplained. This is the _foreglow_. It is in no respect so splendid as the afterglow succeeding sunset; but, because of its comparative rarity, its beauty is enhanced. I remember a foreglow most vividly which was seen at my manse, in Strathmore, in January 1893. My bedroom window looked due west; I slept with the blind up. On that morning I was struck, just after the darkness was fading away, with a slight colouring all along the western horizon. The skeleton branches of the trees stood out strongly against it. The colouring gradually increased, and the roseate hue stretched higher. The old well-known faces that I used to conjure up out of the thin blended boughs became more life-like, as the cheeks flushed. There was rare warmth on a winter morning to cheer a half-despairing soul, tired out with the long hours of oil reading, and pierced to the heart by the never-ceasing rimes; yet I could not understand it. I went to the room opposite to watch the sunrise, for I had observed in the diary that the appearance of the sun would not be for a few minutes. There were streaks of light in the east above the horizon, but no colour was visible. That hectic flush--slight, yet well marked--which was deepening in the western heavens, had no counterpart in the east, except the colourless light which marked the wintry sun's near approach. As soon as the sun's rays shot up into the eastern clouds, and his orb appeared above the horizon, the western sky paled, the colour left it, as if ashamed of its assumed glory. A foreglow like that I have very rarely seen, and its existence was a puzzle to me till I studied Dr. Aitken's explanation of the afterglows after sunset. I had never come across any description of a foreglow; and, of course, across no explanation of the curious phenomenon. The western heavens were coloured with fairly bright roseate hues, while the eastern horizon was only silvery bright before the sun rose; whereas, after the sun appeared and coloured the eastern hills and clouds, the western sky resumed its leaden grey and colourless appearance. Why was that? What is the explanation? I have not space enough to repeat the explanation given already in the last chapter of the glorious phenomenon of the afterglow. But the explanation is similar. Before sunrise, the rays of the sun are reflected by dust-particles in the zenith to the western clouds. The colouring is intensified by the frozen water-vapour on these particles in the west. One thing I carefully noted. Ere mid-day, snow began to fall, and for some days a severe snow-storm kept us indoors. Then, at any rate, the foreglow betokened a coming storm. It was, like a rainbow in a summer morning, a decided warning of the approaching wet weather. CHAPTER XX THE RAINBOW The poet Wordsworth rapturously exclaimed-- "My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky." And old and young have always been enchanted with the beautiful phenomenon. How glorious is the parti-coloured girdle which, on an April morning or September evening, is cast o'er mountain, tower, and town, or even mirrored in the ocean's depths! No colours are so vividly bright as when this triumphal arch bespans a dark nimbus: then it unfolds them in due prismatic proportion, "running from the red to where the violet fades into the sky." A plain description of the formation of the rainbow is not very easily given, but a short sketch may be useful. Beautiful as is the ethereal bow, "born of the shower and colour'd by the sun," yet the marvellous effect is more exquisitely intensified in its gorgeous display when the hand of science points out the path in which the sun's rays, from above the western horizon, fall on the watery cloud, indicating fine weather--"the shepherd's delight." One law of reflection is that, when a ray of light falls on a plane or spherical surface, it goes off at the same angle to the surface as it fell. One law of refraction is that, when a ray of light passes through one medium and enters a denser medium (as from air to water), it is bent back a little. By refraction you see the sun's rays long after the sun has set; when the sun is just below the horizon, an observer, on the surface of the earth, will see it raised by an amount which is generally equal to its apparent diameter. The rays of different colours are bent back (when passing through the water) at different rates, some slightly, others more, from the red to the violet end. The rainbow, then, is produced by refraction and reflection of the several coloured rays of sunlight in the drops of water which make up falling rain. The sun is behind the observer, and its rays fall in a parallel direction upon the drops of rain before him. In each drop the light is dispersively refracted, and then reflected from the farther face of the drop; it travels back through the drop, and comes out with dispersing colours. According to the height of the sun, or the slope of its rays, a higher or lower rainbow will be formed. And, strange, no two people can see the very same bow; in fact the rainbow, as seen by the one eye, is not formed by the same water-drops as the rainbow seen by the other eye. When the primary bow is seen in most vivid colours on a dark cloud, a second arch, larger and fainter, is often seen. But the order of the colours is quite reversed. At a greater elevation, the sun's ray enters the lower side of a drop of rain-water, is refracted, reflected _twice_, and then refracted again before being sent out to the observer's eye. That is why the colours are reversed. _A one-coloured rainbow_ is a curious and rare phenomenon. It is a strange paradox, for the very idea of a rainbow brings up the seven colours--red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Yet Dr. Aitken tells us of a rainbow with one colour which he observed on Christmas Day, in 1888. He was taking his walk on the high ground south of Falkirk. In the east he observed a strange pillar-like cloud, lit up with the light of the setting sun. Then the red pillar extended, curved over, and formed a perfect arch across the north-eastern sky. When fully developed, this rainbow was the most extraordinary one which he had ever seen. There was no colour in it but red. It consisted simply of a red arch, and even the red had a sameness about it. Outside the rainbow there was part of a secondary bow. The Ochil Hills were north of his point of observation. These hills were covered with snow, and the setting sun was glowing with rosy light. Never had he seen such a depth of colour as was on them on this occasion. It was a deep, furnacy red. The sun's light was shorn of all the rays of short-wave length on its passage through the atmosphere, and only the red rays reached the earth. The reason why the Ochils glowed with so deep a red was owing to their being overhung by a dense curtain of clouds, which screened off the light of the sky. The illumination was thus principally that of the direct softer light of the sun. CHAPTER XXI THE AURORA BOREALIS He must be a very careless observer who has not been struck with the appearance of the streamers which occasionally light up the northern heavens, and which farmers consider to be indicators of strong wind or broken weather. The time was when the phenomenon was considered to be supernatural and portentous, as the chroniclers of spectral battles, when "fierce, fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, in ranks and squadrons, and right form of war." And even in the rural districts of Britain, the blood-coloured aurora, of October 24th, 1870, was considered to be the reflection of an enormous Prussian bonfire, fed by the beleaguered French capital. In joyful spirit, the Shetlanders call the beautiful natural phenomenon, "Merry Dancers." Burns associated their evanescence with the transitoriness of sensuous gratification:--"they flit ere you can point their place." And Tennyson spoke of his cousin's face lit up with the colour and light of love, "as I have seen the rosy red flushing in the northern night." Yet this phenomenon is to a great extent under the control of cosmical laws. One of the most difficult problems of our day has been to disentangle the irregular webwork of auroræ, and bring them under a law of periodicity, which depends upon the fluctuations of the sun's photosphere and the variations on the earth's magnetism, and which have such an important influence upon the fluctuations of the weather. The name "Aurora Borealis" was given to it by Gassendi in 1621. Afterwards, the old almanacs described it as the "Great Amazing Light in the North." In the Lowlands of Scotland, the name it long went by, of "Lord Derwentwater's Lights," was given because it suddenly appeared on the night before the execution of the rebel lord. In Ceylon auroræ were called "Buddha Lights." The first symptom of an aurora borealis is commonly a low arch of pale, greenish-yellow light, placed at right angles to the magnetic meridian. Sometimes rays cover the whole sky, frequently showing tremulous motion from end to end; and sometimes they appear to hang from the sky like the fringes of a mantle. They are among the most capricious of natural phenomena, so full of individualities and vagaries. To the glitter of rapid movement they add the charm of vivid colouring. It is strongly asserted that auroræ are preceded by the same general phenomena as thunder-storms. This was borne out by Piazzi Smith (late Astronomer-Royal for Scotland), who observed that their monthly frequency varies inversely with that of thunder-storms--both being safety-valves for the discharge of surplus electricity. Careful observers have, moreover, noticed a remarkable coincidence between the display of auroræ and the maxima of the sun's spots and of the earth's magnetic disturbances. Some have supposed that the light of the aurora is caused by clouds of meteoric dust, composed of iron, which is ignited by friction with the atmosphere. But there is this difficulty in the way, shooting stars are more frequent in the morning, while the reverse is the case with the aurora. The highest authorities have concluded, pretty uniformly, that auroræ are electric discharges through highly rarefied air, taking place in a magnetic field, and under the sway of the earth's magnetic induction. They are not inappropriately called "Polar lightnings," for when electricity misses the one channel it must traverse the other. The natives of the Arctic regions of North America pretend to foretell wind by the rapidity of the motions of the streamers. When they spread over the whole sky, in a uniform sheet of light, fine weather ensues. Fitzroy believed that auroræ in northern latitudes indicated and accompanied stormy weather at a distance. The same idea is still current among many farmers and fishermen in Scotland. Is there any audible accompaniment to the brilliant spectacle? The natives of some parts, with subtle hearing-power, speak of the "whizzing" sound which is often heard during auroral displays. Burns tells of their "hissing, eerie din," as echoes of the far-off songs of the Valkyries. Perhaps the most striking incident which corroborates this opinion occurred during the Franco-Prussian War. Rolier, a practised aëronaut, left Paris in a balloon, on his mission of city defence, and fourteen hours afterwards landed in Norway. He had reached the height of two and a half miles. When descending, he passed through a peculiar cloud of sulphurous odour, which emitted flashed light and a slight scratching or rustling noise. On landing, he witnessed a splendid aurora borealis. He must, therefore, have passed through a cloud in which an electrical discharge of an auroral nature was proceeding, accompanied with an audible sound. There is, moreover, no improbability of such sounds being occasionally heard, since a somewhat similar phenomenon accompanies the brush discharge of the electric machinery, to which the aurora bears considerable resemblance. Though no fixed conclusions are yet established about the causes of the brilliant auroral display, yet, as the results of laborious observations, we are assured that the stabler centre of our solar system holds in its powerful sway the several planets at their respective distances, supplying them all with their seasonable light and heat, vibrating sympathetic chords in all, and even controlling under certain--though to us still unknown--laws the electric streamers that flit, apparently lawlessly, in the distant earth's atmosphere. CHAPTER XXII THE BLUE SKY If we look at the sky overhead, when cloudless in the sunshine, we wonder what gives the air such a deep-blue colour. We are not looking, as children seem to do, into vacancy, away into the far unknown. And even, if that were the case, would not the space be quite colourless? What, then, produces the blueness? Some of the very fine dust-particles, even when clothed with an exceedingly thin coating of water-vapour, are carried very high; and, looking through a vast accumulation of these, we find the effect of a deep-blue colour. Why so? Because these particles are so small that they can only reflect the rays of the blue end of the spectrum; and the higher we ascend, the smaller are the particles and the deeper is the blue. But it is also because water, even in its very finest and purest form, is blue in colour. For long this was disputed. Even Sir Robert Christison concluded, after years of experimenting on Highland streams, that water was colourless. Of course, he admitted that the water in the Indian and Pacific Oceans has frequent patches of red, brown, or white colour, from the myriads of animalcules suspended in the water. Ehrenberg found that it was vegetable matter which gave to the Red Sea its characteristic name. But these, and similar waters, are not pure. It is to Dr. Aitken that the final discovery of the real colour of water is due. When on a visit to several towns on the shores of the Mediterranean, he set about making some very interesting experiments, which the reader will follow with pleasure. It is a well-known fact that colour transmitted through different bodies differs considerably from colour reflected by them. In his first experiment he took a long empty metal tube, open at one end, and closed at the other end by a clear-glass plate. This was let down vertically into the water, near to a fixed object, which appeared of most beautiful deep and delicate blue at a depth of 20 feet. Scientific men know that, if the colour of water is due to the light reflected by extremely small particles of matter suspended in the water, then the object looked at through it would have been illuminated with yellow (the complementary colour of blue). A blackened tube was then filled with water (which had a clear-glass plate fixed to the bottom), and white, red, yellow, and purple objects were sunk in the water, and these colours were found to change in the same way as if they were looked at through a piece of pale-blue glass. The white object appeared blue, the red darkened very rapidly as it sank, and soon lost its colour; at the depth of seven feet a very brilliant red was so darkened as to appear dark brick-red. The yellow object changed to green, and the purple to dark blue. But, still further to satisfy himself that water is really blue in itself, even without any particles suspended in it, he tested the colour of _distilled_ water. He filled a darkened tube with this water (clear-glass plates being at the ends of the tube), and looked through it at a white surface. The effect was the same as before, the colour was blue, almost exactly of the same hue as a solution of Prussian blue. This is corroborated by the fact that, the purer the water is in nature, the bluer is the tint when a large quantity is looked through. Some Highland lochs have crystal waters of the most extraordinary blue. Of course, some cling to the old idea that this is accounted for by the reflected blue of the clear heavens above. No doubt, if the sky be deep blue, then this blue light, when reflected by the surface of the water, will enrich and deepen the hue. But the water itself is _really_ blue. At the same time, the dust-particles suspended in the water have a great effect in making the water appear more beautiful, brilliant, and varied in its colouring; because little or no light is reflected by the interior of a mass of water itself. If a dark metal vessel be filled with a weak solution of Prussian blue, the liquid will appear quite dark and void of colour. But throw in some fine white powder, and the liquid will at once become of a brilliant blue colour. This accounts for the change of depth and brilliancy of colour in the several shores of the Mediterranean. When, then, you look at the face of a deep-blue lake on a summer evening--the heavens all aglow with the unrivalled display of colour from the zenith, stretching in lighter hues of glory to the horizon--though to you the calm water appears like a lake of molten metal glowing with sky-reflected light, so powerful and brilliant as entirely to overpower the light which is internally reflected, yet blue is the normal colour of the water: _blueness is its inherent hue_. Looking upwards, we observe three distinct kinds of blue in the sky from the horizon to the zenith. All painters in water-colours know that. Newton thought that the colour of the sky was produced in the same way as the colours in thin plates, the order of succession of the colours gradually increasing in intensity. CHAPTER XXIII A SANITARY DETECTIVE The impure state of the air in the rooms of a house can now be determined by means of colour alone. Dr. Aitken has invented a very simple instrument for that purpose; and this ought to be of great service to sanitary officers. It is called the koniscope--or dust-detective. The instrument consists of an air-pump and a metal tube with glass ends. Near one end of the test-tube is a passage by which it communicates with the air-pump, and near the other end is attached a stop-cock for admitting the air to be tested. It is not nearly so accurate as the dust-counter; but it is cheaper, more easily wrought, and more handy for quick work. All the grades of blue, from what is scarcely visible to deep, dark blue, may be attached alongside the tube on pieces of coloured glass; and opposite these colours are the numbers of dust-particles in the cubic inch of the similar air, as determined by the dust-counter. While the number of particles was counted by means of the dust-counter, the depth of blue given by the koniscope was noted; and the piece of glass of that exact depth of blue attached. A metal tube was fitted up vertically in the room, in such a way that it could be raised to any desired height into the impure air near the ceiling, so that supplies of air of different degrees of impurity might be obtained. To produce the impurity, the gas was lit and kept burning during the experiments. The air was drawn down through the pipe by means of the air-pump of the koniscope, and it passed through the measuring apparatus of the dust-counter on its way to the koniscope. It may be remarked that, by a stroke of the air-pump, the air within the test-tube is rarefied and the dust-particles seize the moisture in the super-saturated air to form fog-particles; through this fog the colour is observed, and the shade of colour determines the number of dust-particles in the air. These colours are named "just visible," "very pale blue," "pale blue," "fine blue," "deep blue," and "very deep blue." When making a sanitary inspection, the pure air should be examined first, and the colour corresponding to that should be considered as the normal health colour. Any increase from the depth would indicate that the air was being gradually contaminated; and the amount of increase in the depth of colour would indicate the amount of increase of pollution. As an illustration of what this instrument can detect, a room of 24 by 17 by 13 feet was selected. The air was examined before the gas was lighted, and the colour in the test-tube was very faint, indicating a clear atmosphere. In all parts of the room this was found the same. A small tube was attached to the test-tube, open at the other end, for taking air from different parts of the room. Three jets of gas were then lit in the centre of the room, and observations at once begun with the koniscope. Within thirty-five seconds of striking the match to light the gas, the products of combustion had extended near the ceiling to the end of the room; this was indicated by the colour in the koniscope suddenly becoming a deep blue. In four minutes the deep-blue-producing air was got at a distance of two feet from the ceiling. In ten minutes there was strong evidence of the pollution all through the room. In half-an-hour the impurity at nine feet from the floor was very great, the colour being an intensely deep blue. The wide range of the indications of the instrument, from pure clearness to nearly black blue, makes the estimate of the impurity very easily taken with it; and, as there are few parts to get out of order, it is hoped it may come into general use for sanitary work. CHAPTER XXIV FOG AND SMOKE Just two hundred and forty years ago, Mr. John Evelyn, F.R.S., a well-known writer on meteorology, sent a curious tract to King Charles II., which was ordered to be printed by his Majesty. It was entitled "Fumifugium," and dealt with the great smoke nuisance in London. I find from the thesis that he had a very hazy idea of the connection between fog and smoke; and no wonder, for it is only lately that the connection has been fully explained. We know that without dust-particles there can be no fog, and that smoke supplies a vast amount of such particles. Therefore, in certain states of the atmosphere, the more smoke the more fog. In Mr. Evelyn's day the fog, which he called "presumptuous smoake," was at times so dense that men could hardly discern each other for the "clowd." His Majesty's only sister had complained of the damage done to her lungs by the contamination, and Mr. Evelyn was disgusted at the apathy of the people to do anything to remedy the nuisance. He deplored that that glorious and ancient city of London should wrap her stately head in "clowds of smoake, so full of stink and darknesse." He was of opinion that a method of charring coal so as to divest it of its smoke, while leaving it serviceable for many purposes, should be made the object of a very strict inquiry. And he was right. For it is now known that fog in a town is intensified by much smoke. In a city like London or Glasgow, where a great river, fed by warm streams of water from gigantic works, passes through its centre, fogs can never be entirely obliterated, for the dust-particles in the air (often four millions and upwards in the cubic inch) will seize with terrible avidity the warm vapour rising from the river. That is the main reason why fogs cannot there be put down. Smoke is being consumed to a great extent; yet we find particles of sulphur remaining, which seize the warm vapour and form fogs dense enough to check all traffic. The worst form of city fogs seems to be produced when the air, after first flowing slowly in one direction, then turns on its tracks and flows back over the city, bringing with it a black pall, the accumulated products of previous days, to which gets added the smoke and other impurities produced at the time. What irritated Mr. Evelyn was that, outside of London, the air was clear when passengers could not walk in safety within the city. So vexed was he about the contamination, that he made it the occasion of all the "cathars, phthisicks, coughs, and consumption in the city." He appealed to common sense to testify that those who repair to London soon take some serious illness. "I know a man," he said, "who came up to London and took a great cold, which he could never afterwards claw off again." Mr. Evelyn proposed that, by an Act of Parliament, the nuisance be removed; enjoining that all breweries, dye-works, soap and salt boilers, lime-burners, and the like, be removed five or six miles distant from London below the river Thames. That would have materially helped his cause. But there is more difficulty in the purification than he anticipated. Yet there was pluck in the old man pointing out the killing contamination and suggesting a possible remedy. He had the fond idea that thereby a certain charm, "or innocent magick," would make a transformation scene like Arabia, which is therefore "styl'd the Happy, attracting all with its gums and precious spices." In purer air fogs would be less dense, breathing would be easier, business would be livelier, life would be happier. Few, I suppose, have laid their hands on this curious Latin thesis, or its quaint translation, directing the King's attention to the fogs that were ruining London. Since that time the city has increased, from little more than a village, to be the dwelling-place of six millions of human beings, yet too little improvement has been made in the removal of this fog nuisance. King Edward's drive through London would be even more dangerous on a muggy, frosty day than was Charles II.'s, when science was little known. CHAPTER XXV ELECTRICAL DEPOSITION OF SMOKE A good deal of scientific work is being done in the way of clearing away fog and smoke; and this, through time, may have some practical results in removing a great source of annoyance, illness, and danger in large towns. Sir Oliver Lodge and Dr. Aitken have been throwing light upon the deposition of smoke in the air by means of electricity. If an electric discharge be passed through a jar containing the smoke from burnt magnesium wire, tobacco, brown paper, and other substances, the dust will be deposited so as to make the air clear. Brush discharge, or anything that electrifies the air itself, is the most expeditious. If water be forced upwards through a vertical tube (with a nozzle one-twentieth of an inch in diameter), it will fall to the ground in a fine rain; but, if a piece of rubbed (electrified) sealing-wax be held a yard distant from the place where the jet breaks into drops, they at once fall in large spots as in a thunder-shower. If paper be put on the ground during the experiment, the sound of pattering will be observed to be quite different. If a kite be flown into a cloud, and made to give off electricity for some time, that cloud will begin to condense into rain. Experiments with Lord Kelvin's recorder show that variations in the electrical state of the atmosphere precede a change of weather. Then, with a very large voltaic battery, a tremendous quantity of electricity could be poured into the atmosphere, and its electrical condition could be certainly disturbed. If this could be made practically available, how useful it would be to farmers when the crops were suffering from excessive drought! It might be more powerfully available than the imagined condensation of a cloud into rain by the reverberation caused by the firing of a range of cannon. But what is the practical benefit of this information? If electricity deposits smoke, it might be made available in many ways. The fumes from chemical works might be condensed; and the air in large cities, otherwise polluted, might be purified and rendered innocuous. The smoke of chimneys in manufacturing works might be prevented from entering the atmosphere at all. In flour-mills and coal-mines the fine dust is dangerously explosive. In lead, copper, and arsenic works, it is both poisonous and valuable. Lead smelters labour under this difficulty of condensing the fume which escapes along with the smoke from red-lead smelting furnaces; and it was considered that an electrical process of condensation might be made serviceable for the purpose. At Bagillt, the method used for collecting or condensing the lead fume is a large flue two miles long; much is retained in this flue, but still a visible cloud of white-lead fume continually escapes from the top of the chimney. There is a difficulty in the way of depositing fumes in the flue by means of a sufficient discharge of electricity, viz. the violent draught which is liable to exist there, and which would mechanically blow away any deposited dust. But Dr. Aitken suggests that regenerators might be used along with the electricity. The warm fumes might be taken to a cold depositor, where (by the ordinary law of cold surfaces attracting warm dust-particles) the impurities would be removed, and, when purified, the air would again be taken through a hot regenerator before being sent up the chimney. By a succession of these chambers, with the assistance of electric currents, the air, impregnated with the most deleterious particles, or valuable dust, could be rendered innocuous. The sewage of our towns must be cleaned of its deleterious parts before being run into the streams which give drink to the lower animals, because an Act of Parliament enforces the process. Why, then, ought we not to have similar compulsion for making the smoke from chemical and other noxious works quite harmless before being thrown into the air which contains the oxygen necessary for the life of human beings? There seems to be a good field before electricians to catch the smoke on the wing and deposit its dust on a large scale. This seems to be a matter beyond our reach at present, except in the scientist's laboratory; but certainly it is a "consummation devoutly to be wished." CHAPTER XXVI RADIATION FROM SNOW One night a most interesting paper by Dr. Aitken, on "Radiation from Snow," was read by Professor Tait to the Fellows of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. I remember that Dr. Alex. Buchan--the greatest meteorologist living--spoke afterwards in the very highest terms of the subject-matter of the paper. This was corroborated by Lord Kelvin, Lord MacLaren, and Professor Chrystal. Dr. Aitken had been testing the radiating powers of different substances. Snow in the shade on a bright day at noon is 7° Fahr. colder than the air that floats upon it, whereas a black surface at the same is only 4° colder. This difference diminishes as the sun gets lower; and at night both radiate almost equally well. I select, among the careful and numerous observations, the notes on January 19, 1886; for I took note of the cold of that day in my diary. It was the coldest day of the whole of that winter. The barometer was 28·8 inches, and the thermometer 4°--that is, 28° of frost. According to Dr. Buchan, that January had only two equal in average cold for fifty years. On January 19, at 10 A.M., when the air was at 20° and the sky clear, a black surface registered 16° and the upper layer of snow 12°, showing a difference of 4° when both surfaces were colder than the superincumbent air. It is curious to note that, on February 5 of the same year, at the same hour, when the sky was overcast, the air was at 23°, the black surface registered 29°, and the snow 25°, showing again the difference of 4°; but, in this case, both surfaces were warmer than the air. In both cases the radiation at night was equal. This small absorbing power of snow for heat reflected and radiated from the sky during the day must have a most important effect on the temperature of the air. The temperature of lands when covered with snow must be much lower than when free from it. And, when once a country has become covered with snow, there will be a tendency towards glacial conditions. But, besides being a bad absorber of heat from the sky, snow is also a very poor conductor of heat. On that very cold night (January 18), when there was a depth of 5-1/2 inches of snow on the ground, and the night clear, with strong radiation, the temperature of the surface of the snow was 3° Fahr., and a minimum thermometer on the snow showed that it had been down to zero some time before. A thermometer, plunged into the snow down to the grass, gave the most remarkable register of 32°. Through the depth of 5-1/2 inches of snow there was a difference of temperature of 29°. This was confirmed by removing the snow, and finding that the grass was unfrozen. As the ground was frozen when the snow fell, it would appear that the earth's heat slowly thawed it under the protection of the snow. The protection afforded by the bad-conducting power of snow is of great importance in the economy of nature. How vegetation would suffer, were it exposed to a low temperature, unprotected by the snow-mantle! So that, though the continued snow cools the air for animals that can look after their own heating, it keeps warm the soil; and vegetation prospers under the genial covering. The fine rich look of the young wheat-blades, after a continued snow has melted, must strike the most careless observer. Instead of the half-blackened tips and semi-sickly blades, which we see in a field of young wheat after a considerable course of dry frost without snow, we have a rich, healthy green which shows the vital energy at work in the plants. Or even in the town gardens, after a continued snow has been melted away by a soft, western breeze, we are struck with the white, peeping buds of the snowdrop and the finely springing grass in the sward. Yet the snow-covering gives durability to cold weather. This has been demonstrated by Dr. Woeikof, the distinguished Russian meteorologist. On this account the spring months of Russia and Siberia are intensely cold. The plants, then, which in winter are unable by locomotion to keep themselves in health, are protected by the snow-mantle which chills the air for animals that can keep themselves in heat by exercise. What a grand compensating power is here! CHAPTER XXVII MOUNTAIN GIANTS Some mysterious physical phenomena can be clearly explained by the aid of science. The mountain giants that at times haunt the lonely valleys, and strike with fear the superstitious dwellers there, are only the enlarged shadows of living human beings cast upon a dense mist. The two most startling of these "eerie" phenomena are the spectres of Adam's Peak and the Brocken. The phenomena sometimes to be observed at Adam's Peak, in Ceylon, are very remarkable. Many travellers have given vivid accounts of these. On one occasion the Hon. Ralph Abercromby, in his praiseworthy enthusiasm for meteorological research, went there with two scientific friends to witness the strange appearance. The conical peak, a mile and a half high, overlooks a gorge west of it. When, then, the north-east monsoon blows the morning mist up the valley, light wreaths of condensed vapour pass to the right of the Peak, and catch the shadows at sunrise. This party reached the summit early one morning in February. The foreglow began to brighten the under-surface of the stratus-cloud with orange, and patches of white mist filled the hollows. Soon the sun peeped through a chink in the clouds, and they saw the pointed shadow of the Peak lying on the misty land. Then a prismatic circle, with the red inside, formed round the shadow. The meteorologist waved his arms about, and immediately he found giant shadowy arms moving in the centre of the rainbow. Soon they saw a brighter and sharper shadow of the Peak, encircled by a double bow, and their own spectral arms more clearly visible. The shadow, the double bow, and the giant forms, combined to make this phenomenon the most marked in the whole world. The question has been frequently asked: Why are such aërial effects not more widely observed? There are not many mountains of this height and of a conical shape; and still fewer can there be where a steady wind, for months together, blows up a valley so as to project the rising morning mist at a suitable height and distance on the western side, to catch the shadow of the peak at sunrise. The most famous place in Europe for witnessing the awe-inspiring phenomenon is the Brocken, in Germany--3740 feet in height. The only great disappointment there is that the conditions rarely combine at sunrise or sunset to have "the spectre" successful. In July 1892, my daughter and I were spending some weeks at Harzburg, and, of course, we had to visit the Brocken and take stock of the world-known phenomenon. At mid-day, the air at the flat summit was cold, clear, and hard. The boulders are of enormous size; and near the "Noah's Ark" Hotel and Observatory many are piled up in a mass, on which the observers stand at the appointed time for having their shadows projected on the misty air in the valleys. At five o'clock in the afternoon the sky was brilliantly clear on the summit of the Brocken; but the wind was rising from the sun's direction, and the mist was filling up the wide-spread eastern valley. We stood on the "spectre" boulders, and our shadows were thrown on the grass, just as at home. However, they fell upon large patches of white heather, which there is very plentiful. At six o'clock the sun was still shining beautifully, and we anxiously waited for the time when it would be low enough to raise our shadows to the misty wall. An hour afterwards, a hundred visitors were out, and many of us were on the "spectre" stones. There was great excitement in anticipation of the weird appearances, which had attracted us from such a distance. But, almost at the moment of success, the sun descended behind a belt of purple cloud, and all we saw was part of a rainbow on the misty hollow. For the sun never appeared again. This was intensely saddening, seeing that, but for that stratum of cloud above the horizon, the phenomenon would have been graphically displayed. The cold became suddenly intense, and we had to sleep with a freezing mist enveloping the hotel. In vain did we wait for the wakening call, to tell us of sunrise; for the sun could not pierce the mist, and we had to return home disappointed. Sometimes the rainbow colours assume the shapes of crosses instead of circles. Occasionally a bright halo will be seen above the shadow-head of the observer, concentric rainbows enclosing all. In some recorded cases the grand effect must have been simply glorious. Scientific observation has done much to dispel the superstition which has clung so tenaciously to the Highland mind. The lonely grandeur of the weird mountain giants has been clearly explained as perfectly natural, yet the awe-striking feeling cannot be entirely driven off. CHAPTER XXVIII THE WIND Once was the remark pointedly made: "The wind bloweth where it listeth." And that is nearly true still. The leading winds are under the calculation of the meteorologist, but the others will not be bound by laws. Yet there are instruments for measuring the velocity and force of the wind, after it is on; but "whence it comes" is a different matter. A gentle air moves at the rate of 7 miles an hour; a hurricane from 80 to 150 miles, pressing with 50 lbs. on the square foot exposed to its fury. Some of the gusts of the Tay Bridge storm, in 1879, had a velocity of 150 miles an hour, with a pressure of 80 to 90 lbs. to the square foot. Before steamers supplanted so many sailing vessels, seamen required to be always on the alert as to the direction and strength of the wind, and the likelihood of any sudden change; and they chronicled twelve different strengths from "faint air" to a "storm." In general, the wind may be considered to be the result of a change of pressure and temperature in the atmosphere at the same level. The air of a warmer region, being lighter, ascends, and gives place to a current of wind from a colder region. These two currents--the higher and the lower--will continue to blow until there is equilibrium. The trade winds are regular and constant. These were much followed in the days of old. A vast amount of air in the tropics gets heated and ascends, being lighter, and travels to the colder north. A strong current rushes in from the north to take its place. But the earth rotates round its axis from west to east, and the combined motions make two slant wind directions, which are called the "trade winds," because they were so important in trade navigation. Among the periodical winds are the "land and sea breezes." During the day, the land on the sea coast is warmer than the sea; accordingly, the air over the land becomes heated and ascends, the fine cool breeze from the sea taking its place. Towards evening there is the equilibrium of temperature which produces a temporary calm. Soon the earth chills, and the sea is counterbalancingly warm--as sea-water is steadier as to temperature than is land--the air over the sea becomes warmer, and ascends, the current from the land rushing in to take its place. Hence during the night the wind is reversed, until in the morning again the equilibrium is restored and there is a calm, so far as these are concerned. These are therefore called the "land and sea breezes." Of course, it is within the tropics that these breezes are most marked. By the assistance of other winds, a hurricane will there occasionally destroy towns and bring about much damage and loss of life; but better that hundreds should perish by a hurricane than thousands by the pestilence which, but for the storm, would have done its dire work. In countries where the differences of pressure are more marked than the differences of temperature, in the surrounding regions the strength of the wind thereby occasioned is far stronger than the land and sea breezes. The variable winds are more conflicting. These depend on purely local causes for a time, such as "the nature of the ground, covered with vegetation or bare; the physical configuration of the surface, level or mountainous; the vicinity of the sea or lakes, and the passage of storms." Among these winds are the simoom and sirocco. The _east_ winds, which one does not care about in the British Islands during the spring time, are occasioned by the powerful northern current which rushes south from the northern regions in Europe. Dr. Buchan points out a very common mistake among even intelligent observers who shudder at the hard east winds. It is generally held that these winds are damp. They are unhealthy, but they are dry. It is quite true that many easterly winds are peculiarly moist; all that precede storms are so far damp and rainy; and it is owing to this circumstance that, on the east coast of Scotland, the east winds are searching and carry most of the annual rainfall there. But all of these moist easterly winds, however, soon turn to some westerly point. The real east wind, so much feared by invalids, does not turn to the west; it is exceeding dry. Curious is it that brain diseases, as well as consumption, reach their height in Britain while east winds prevail. Once in Edinburgh, during the early spring, I had rheumatic fever, and during my convalescence my medical adviser, Dr. Menzies, would not let me have a short drive until the wind changed to the west. The first thing I anxiously watched in the morning was the flag on the Castle; and for nearly two months it always waved from the east. How heart-depressing! Creatures are we in the hands of nature's messengers. We so much depend upon the weather for our happiness. Joyful are we when the honey-laden zephyr waves the long grass in June, or when "The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf." Compared with this, how terrible is Shakespeare's allusion to the appalling aspects of the storm:-- "I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have rived the knotty oaks; and I have seen The ambitious ocean swell, and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds; But never till to-night, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire." CHAPTER XXIX CYCLONES AND ANTI-CYCLONES The criticism of the weather in the meteorological column of our daily newspapers invariably speaks of "cyclones." It is, therefore, advisable to give as plain an explanation of these as possible. Cyclones are "storm-winds." Their nature has to be carefully studied by meteorologists, who are industriously at work to ascertain some scientific basis for the atmospheric movements. What is the cause of the spiral movement in storm-winds? In their centre the depression of the barometer is lowest, because the atmosphere there is lightest. As the walls of the spiral are approached, the barometer rises. Dr. Aitken has ingeniously hit upon an experiment to illustrate a spiral in air. All that is necessary is a good fire, a free-going chimney, and a wet cloth. The cloth is hung up in front of the fire, and pretty near it, so that steam rises readily from its surface; and, when there are no air-currents in the room, the steam will rise vertically, keeping close to the cloth. But if the room has a window in the wall, at right angles to the fireplace, so as to cause the air coming from it to make a cross-current past the fire, then a cyclone will be formed, and the vapour from the cloth will be seen circling round. When the cyclone is well formed, all the vapour is collected into the centre of the cyclone, and forms a white pillar extending from the cloth to the chimney. This experiment shows that no cyclone can form without some tangential motion in the air entering the area of low-pressure. Now to illustrate the spiral approach. Fill with water a cylindrical glass vessel, say 15 inches in diameter and 6 inches deep. Have an orifice with a plug a little from the centre of the bottom. Remove the plug, the water runs out, passing round the vessel in a vortex form. But, as the passage between the orifice (or centre of the cyclone) and the temporary division is narrower than in any other place, the water has to pass this part much more quickly than at any other place. And this curious result is observed: the top of the cyclone no longer remains over the orifice, but _travels_ in the direction of the water which is moving most speedily. Similar to this is the cyclone in the atmosphere; its centre also moves in the direction of the quickest flowing wind that enters it. Dr. Aitken is of opinion that, in forecasting storms, too little attention has been paid to the _anti-cyclones_. They do more than simply follow and fill up the depression made by the cyclones. They initiate and keep up their own circulation, and collect the materials with which the cyclones produce their effect. Neither could work efficiently without the other. Suppose a large area on the earth over which the air is still in bright sunshine. After a time, when the air gets heated and charged with vapour, columns of air would begin to ascend in a disorderly fashion. But suppose an anti-cyclone is blowing at one side of this area. When the upper air descends to the earth, it spreads outwards in all directions; but the earth's rotation interferes and changes the radial into a spiral motion. The anti-cyclonic winds will prevent the formation of local cyclones, and drive all the moist, hot air to its circumference, just above the earth. The anti-cyclone forces its air tangentially into the cyclone, and gives it its direction and velocity of rotation, also the direction and rate of travel of the centre of depression. The earth's rotation is the original source of the rotatory movements, but both intensify the initial motion. Accordingly, the cyclone must travel in the direction of the strongest winds blowing into it, just as the vortex in the vessel with the eccentric orifice travelled in the direction of the quickest moving water. This is verified by a study of the synoptic charts of the Meteorological Office. The sun's heat has always been looked upon as the main source of the energy of our winds, but some account must also be taken of the effects of cold. It is well known that the mean pressure over Continental areas is high during winter and low during summer. As the sun's rays during summer give rise to the cyclonic conditions, so the cooling of the earth during winter gives rise to anti-cyclonic conditions. It is found during the winter months in several parts of the Continent that as the temperature falls the pressure rises, producing anti-cyclones over the cold area; whereas, when the temperature begins to rise, the pressure falls, and cyclones are attracted to the warming area. Small natural cyclones are often seen on dusty roads, the whirling column having a core of dusty air, and the centre of the vortex travelling along the road, tossing up the dust in a very disagreeable way to pedestrians. Sometimes such a cyclone will toss up dry leaves to a height of four or five feet. They are very common; but it is only when dust, leaves, or other light material is present that they are visible to the eye. CHAPTER XXX RAIN PHENOMENA The soft rain on a genial evening, or the heavy thunder-showers on a broiling day, are too well known to be written about. Sometimes rain is earnestly wished for, at other times it is dreaded, according to the season, seed-time or harvest. Some years, like 1826, are very deficient in rainfall, when the corn is stunted and everything is being burnt up; other years, like 1903, there is an over-supply, causing great damage to agriculture. The year 1903 will long be remembered for its continuous rainfall; it is the record year; no year comes near it for the total rainfall all over the kingdom. Rain is caused by anything that lowers the temperature of the air below the dew-point, but especially by winds. When a wind has blown over a considerable area of ocean on to the land, there is a likelihood of rain. When this wind is carried on to higher latitudes, or colder parts, there is a certainty of rain. Of course, in the latter case the rain will fall heavier on the wind side than on the lee side. For short periods, the heaviest falls or "plouts" of rain are during thunder-storms. When the raindrops fall through a broad, cold stratum of air, they are frozen into hail, the particles of which sometimes reach a large size, like stones. Of course, water-spouts now and again are of terrible violence. One of the heaviest rainfalls yet recorded in Great Britain was about 2-1/4 inches in forty minutes at Lednathie, Forfarshire, in 1887. Now 1 inch deep of rain means 100 tons on an imperial acre; so the amount of water falling on a field during that short time is simply startling. The heaviest fall for one day was at Ben Nevis Observatory, being fully 7-1/4 inches in 1890. In other parts of the world this is far exceeded. In one day at Brownsville, Texas, nearly 13 inches fell in 1886. On the Khasi hills, India, 30 inches on each of five successive days were registered. At Gibraltar, 33 inches were recorded in twenty-six hours. The heaviest rainfalls of the globe are occasioned by the winds that have swept over the most extensive ocean-areas in the tropics. On the summer winds the rainfall of India mainly depends; when this fails, there is most distressing drought. Reservoirs are being erected to meet emergencies. From Dr. Buchan's statistics it is found that the annual rainfall at Mahabaleshwar is 263 inches; at Sandoway 214; and at Cherra-pungi 472 inches, the largest known rainfall anywhere on the globe. Over a large part of the Highlands of Scotland more than 80 inches fall annually, while in some of the best agricultural districts there it does not exceed 30 inches. Of all meteorological phenomena, rainfall is the most variable and uncertain. Symons gives as tentative results from twenty years' observations in London--(1) In winter, the nights are wetter than the days; (2) in spring and autumn, there is not much difference; (3) in summer, nearly half as much again by day as by night. The wearisomeness of statistics may be here relieved by a short consideration of the _splash_ of a drop of rain. Watching the drop-splashes on a rainy day in the outskirts of the city, when unable to get out, I brought to my recollection the marvellous series of experiments made by Professor A. M. Worthington in connection with these phenomena. Of course, I could not see to proper advantage the formation of the splashes, as the heavy raindrops fell into these tiny lakes on the quiet road. There is not the effect of the huge thunder-drops in a stream or pool. The building up of the bubbles is not here perfect, for the domes fail to close, nor are the emergent columns visible to the naked eye. It is a pity; for R. L. Stevenson once wrote of them in his delightful "Inland Voyage," when he canoed in the Belgian canals, as thrown up by the rain into "an infinity of little crystal fountains." Beautiful is this effect if one is under shelter, every dome seeming quite different in contour and individuality from all the rest. But terrible is it when out fishing on Loch Earn, even with the good-humoured old Admiral, when the heavy thunder-drops splash up the crystal water, and one gets soaked to the skin, sportsman-like despising an umbrella. There is, however, a scientific interest about the splash of a drop. The phenomenon can be best seen indoors by letting a drop of ink fall upon the surface of pure water in a tumbler, which stands on white paper. It is an exquisitely regulated phenomenon, which very ideally illustrates some of the fundamental properties of fluids. When a drop of milk is let fall upon water coloured with aniline dye, the centre column of the splash is nearly cylindrical, and breaks up into drops before or during its subsequent descent into the liquid. As it disappears below the surface, the outward and downward flow causes a hollow to be again formed, up the sides of which a ring of milk is carried; while the remainder descends to be torn a second time into a beautiful vortex ring. This shell or dome is a characteristic of all splashes made by large drops falling from a considerable height, and is extremely pretty. Sometimes the dome closes permanently over the imprisoned air, and forms a large bubble floating upon the water. The most successful experiments, however, have been carried through by means of instantaneous photography, with the aid of a Leyden-jar spark, whose duration was less than the ten-millionth of a second. But the simple experiments, without the use of the apparatus, will while away a few hours on a rainy afternoon, when condemned to the penance of keeping within doors. CHAPTER XXXI THE METEOROLOGY OF BEN NEVIS Several large and very important volumes of the Royal Society of Edinburgh are devoted to statistics connected with the meteorology of Ben Nevis. Most of the abstracts have been arranged by Dr. Buchan; while Messrs. Buchanan, Omond, and Rankine have taken a fair share of the work. This Observatory, as Mr. Buchanan remarks, is unique, for it is established in the clouds; and the observations made in it furnish a record of the meteorology of the clouds. It is 4406 feet above the level of the sea; and as there is a corresponding Observatory at Fort William, at the base of the mountain, it is peculiarly well fitted for important observations and weather forecasting. The mountain, too, is on the west sea-coast of Scotland, exposed immediately to the winds from the Atlantic, catching them at first hand. It is lamentable to think that, when the importance of the observations made at the two Observatories was becoming world known, funds could not be got to carry them on. Ben Nevis is the highest mountain in the British Islands, best fitted for meteorological observations; yet these have been stopped for want of money. Dr. Buchan's valuable papers were published before any one dreamed of the stoppage of the work, which had such an important bearing on men engaged in business or taken up with open-air sport. From these I shall sift out a few facts that even "mute, inglorious" meteorologists may be interested in knowing. For a considerable time the importance of the study of the changes of the weather has come gradually to be recognised, and an additional impetus was given to the prosecution of this branch of meteorology when it was seen that the subject had intimate relations to the practical question of weather forecasts, including storm warnings. Weather maps, showing the state of the weather over an extensive part of the surface of the globe, began to be constructed; but these were only indicators from places at the level of the sea. The singular advantages of a high-level observatory occurred to Mr. Milne Home in 1877; and Ben Nevis was considered to be in every respect the most suitable in this country. The Meteorological Council of the Royal Society of London offered in 1880, unsolicited, £100 annually to the Scottish Meteorological Society, to aid in the support of an Observatory, the only stipulation being that the Council be supplied with copies of the observations. From June to October, in 1881, Mr. Wragge made daily observations at the top of the Ben; and simultaneous observations were made, by Mrs. Wragge, at Fort William. A second series, on a much more extended scale, was made in the following summer. Funds were secured to build an Observatory; and, in November 1883, the regular work commenced, consisting of hourly observations by night as well as by day. Until a short time ago, these were carried on uninterruptedly. Telegraphic communications of each day's observations were sent to the morning newspapers; and now we are disappointed at not seeing them for comparison. The whole of the observations of temperature and humidity were of necessity eye-observations. For self-registering thermometers were comparatively useless when the wind was sometimes blowing at the rate of 100 miles an hour. Saturation was so complete in the atmosphere that everything exposed to it was dripping wet. Every object exposed to the outside frosts of winter soon became thickly incrusted with ice. Snowdrifts blocked up exposed instruments. Accordingly, the observers had to use their own eyes, often at great risks. The instruments in the Ben Nevis Observatory, and in the Observing Station at Fort William, were of the best description. Both stations were in positions where the effects of solar and terrestrial radiation were minimised. No other pair of meteorological stations anywhere in the world are so favourably situated as these two stations, for supplying the necessary observations for investigating the vertical changes of the atmosphere. It is to be earnestly hoped, therefore, that funds will be secured to resume the valuable work. The rate of the decrease of temperature with height there is 1° Fahr. for every 275 feet of ascent, on the mean of the year. The rate is most rapid in April and May, when it is 1° for each 247 feet; and least rapid in November and December, when it is 1° for 307 feet. This rate agrees closely with the results of the most carefully conducted balloon ascents. The departures from the normal differences of temperature, but more especially the inversions of temperature, and the extraordinarily rapid rates of diminution with height, are intimately connected with the cyclones and anti-cyclones of North-Western Europe; and form data, as valuable as they are unique, in forecasting storms. The most striking feature of the climate of Ben Nevis is the repeated occurrence of excessive droughts. For instance, in the summer and early autumn of 1885, low humidities and dew-points frequently occurred. Corresponding notes were observed at sea-level. During nights when temperature falls through the effects of terrestrial radiation, those parts of the country suffer most from frosts over which very dry states of the air pass or rest; whereas, those districts, over which a more humid atmosphere hangs, will escape. On the night of August 31 of that year, the potato crop on Speyside was totally destroyed by the frost; whereas at Dalnaspidal, in the district immediately adjoining, potatoes were scarcely--if at all--blackened. The mean annual pressure at Ben Nevis was 25·3 inches, and at Fort William 29·8, the difference being 4-1/2 inches for the 4400 feet. For the whole year, the difference between the mean coldest hour, 5 A.M., and the warmest hour, 2 P.M., is 2°. For the five months, from October to February, the mean daily range of temperature varied only from O·6 to 1·5. This is the time of the year when storms are most frequent; and this small range in the diurnal march of the temperature is an important feature in the climatology of Ben Nevis; for it presents, in nearly their simple form, the great changes of temperature accompanying storms and other weather changes, which it is so essential to know in forecasting weather. The daily maximum velocity of the wind occurs during the night, the daily differences being greatest in summer and least in winter. A blazing sun in the summer daily pours its rays on the atmosphere, and a thick envelope of cloud has apparently but little influence on the effect of the sun's rays. Thunder-storms are essentially autumn and winter phenomena, being rare in summer. According to Mr. Buchanan, the weather on Ben Nevis is characterised by great prevalence of fog or mist. In continuously clear weather it practically never rains on the mountain at all. In continuously foggy weather, on the other hand, the average daily rainfall is 1 inch. There is a large and continuous excess of pressure in clear weather over that of foggy weather. The mean temperature of the year is 3-1/2 degrees higher in clear than in foggy weather. In June the excess is 10 degrees. The nocturnal heating in the winter is very clearly observed. This has been noticed before in balloons as well as on mountains. The fog and mist in winter are much denser than in summer. Whether wet or dry, the fog which characterises the climate of the mountain is nothing but _cloud_ under another name. CHAPTER XXXII THE WEATHER AND INFLUENZA Some remarkable facts have been deduced by the late Dr. L. Gillespie, Medical Registrar, from the records of the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. He considered that it might lead to interesting results if the admissions into the medical wards were contrasted with the varying states of the atmosphere. The repeated attacks of influenza made him pay particular attention to the influence of the weather on that disease. The meteorological facts taken comprise the weekly type of weather, _i.e._ cyclonic or anti-cyclonic, the extremes of temperature for the district for each week, and the mean weekly rainfall for the same district. More use is made of the extremes than of the mean, for rapid changes of temperature have a greater influence on disease than the actual mean. The period which he took up comprises the seven years 1888-1895. There was a yearly average of admissions of 3938; so that he had a good field for observation. Six distinct epidemics of influenza, varying in intensity, occurred during that period; yet there had been only twenty-three attacks between 1510 and 1890. Accordingly, these six epidemics must have had a great influence on the incidence of disease in the same period, knowing the vigorous action of the poison on the respiratory, the circulatory, and the nervous systems. The epidemics of influenza recorded in this country have usually occurred during the winter months. The first epidemic, which began on the 15th of December 1889 and continued for nine weeks, was preceded by six weeks of cyclonic weather, which was not, however, accompanied by a heavy rainfall. Throughout the course of the disease, the type continued to be almost exclusively cyclonic, with a heavy rainfall, a high temperature, and a great deficiency of sunshine. The four weeks immediately following were also chiefly cyclonic, but with a smaller rainfall. The summer epidemic of 1891 followed a fine winter and spring, during which anti-cyclonic conditions were largely prevalent. But the epidemic was immediately preceded by wet weather and a low barometer. It took place in dry weather, and was followed by wet, cyclonic weather in turn. The great winter epidemic of 1891 followed an extremely wet and broken autumn. Simultaneously with the establishment of an anti-cyclone, with east wind, practically no rain, and a lowering temperature, the influenza commenced. Great extremes in the temperature followed, the advent of warmer weather and more equable days witnessing the disappearance of the disease. The fourth epidemic was preceded by a wet period, ushered in by dry weather, accompanied by great heat; and its close occurred in slightly wetter weather, but under anti-cyclonic conditions. The fifth outbreak began after a short anti-cyclone had become established over our islands, continued during a long spell of cyclonic weather with a considerable rainfall, but was drowned out by heavy rains. The last appearance of the modern plague, of which Dr. Gillespie's paper treats, commenced after cold and wet weather, continued in very cold but drier weather, and subsided in warmth with a moderate rainfall. The conditions of these six epidemics were very variable in some respects, and regular in others. The most constant condition was the decreased rainfall at the time, when the disease was becoming epidemic. Anti-cyclonic weather prevailed at the time. According to Dr. Gillespie, the tables seem to suggest that a type of weather, which is liable to cause catarrhs and other affections of the respiratory tract, precedes the attacks of influenza; but that the occurrence of influenza in _epidemic form_ does not appear to take place until another and drier type has been established. As the weather changes, the affected patients increase with a rush. He is of opinion that the supposed rapid spread of influenza on the establishment of anti-cyclonic conditions may be explained in this way. The air in the cyclonic vortex, drawn chiefly from the atmosphere over the ocean, is moist, and contains none of the contagion; the air of the anti-cyclone, derived from the higher strata, and thus from distant cyclones, descending, blows gently over the land to the nearest cyclone, and, being drier, is more able to carry suspended particles with it. He considers that temperature has nothing to do with the problem, except in so far as the different types of weather may modify it. The Infirmary records point to the occurrence of similar phenomena, recorded on previous occasions. Accordingly, if such meteorological conditions are not indispensable to the spread of influenza in epidemic form, they at least afford favourable facilities for it. CHAPTER XXXIII CLIMATE One is not far up in years, in Scotland at any rate, without practically realising what climate means. He may not be able to put it in words, but easterly haars, chilling rimes, drizzling mists, dagging fogs, and soddening rains speak eloquently to him of the meaning of climate. Climate is an expression for the conditions of a district with regard to temperature, and its influence on the health of animals and plants. The sun is the great source of heat, and when its rays are nearly perpendicular--as at the Tropics--the heat is greater on the earth than when the slanted rays are gradually cooled in their passage. As one passes to a higher level, he feels the air colder, until he reaches the fluctuating snow-line that marks perpetual snow. The temperature of the atmosphere also depends upon the radiation from the earth. Heat is quite differently radiated from a long stretch of sand, a dense forest, and a wide breadth of water. Strange is it that a newly ploughed field absorbs and radiates more heat than an open lea. The equable temperature of the sea-water has an influence on coast towns. The Gulf Stream, from the Gulf of Mexico, heats the ocean on to the west coast of Britain, and mellows the climate there. The rainfall of a district has a telling effect on the climate. Boggy land produces a deleterious climate, if not malaria. Over the world, generally, the prevailing winds are grand regulators of the climate in the distinctive districts. A wooded valley--like the greatest in Britain, Strathmore--has a health-invigorating power: what a calamity it is, then, that so many extensive woods, destroyed by the awful hurricane twelve years ago, are not replanted! Some people can stand with impunity any climate; their "leather lungs" cannot be touched by extremes of temperature; but ordinary mortals are mere puppets in the hands of the goddess climate. Hence health-resorts are munificently got up, and splendidly patronised by people of means. The poor, fortunately, have been successful in the struggle for existence, by innate hardiness, otherwise they would have had a bad chance without ready cash for purchasing health. It may look ludicrous at first sight, but it seems none the less true, that the variation of the spots on the sun have something to do with climate, even to the produce of the fields. On close examination, with a proper instrument, the disc of the sun is found to be here and there studded with dark spots. These vary in size and position day after day. They always make their first appearance on the same side of the sun, they travel across it in about fourteen days, and then they disappear on the other side. There is a great difference in the number of spots visible from time to time; indeed, there is what is called the minimum period, when none are seen for weeks together, and a maximum period, when more are seen than at any other time. The interval between two maximum periods of sun-spots is about eleven years. This is a very important fact, which has wonderful coincidences in the varied economy of nature. Kirchhoff has shown, by means of the spectroscope, that the temperature of a sun-spot must be lower than that of the remainder of the solar surface. As we must get less heat from the sun when it is covered with spots than when there are none, it may be considered a variable star, with a period of eleven years. Balfour Stewart and Lockyer have shown that this period is in some way connected with the action of the planets on the photosphere. As we have already mentioned, the variations of the magnetic needle have a period of the same length, its greatest variations occurring when there are most sun-spots. Auroræ, and the currents of electricity which traverse the earth's surface, follow the same law. This remarkable coincidence set men a-thinking. Can the varying condition of the sun exert any influences upon terrestrial affairs? Is it connected with the variation of rainfall, the temperature and pressure of the atmosphere, and the frequency of storms? Has the regular periodicity of eleven years in the sun-spots no effect upon climate and agricultural produce? Mr. F. Chambers, of Bombay, has taken great trouble to strike, as far as possible, a connection between the recurring eleven years of sun-spots and the variation of grain prices. He arranged the years from 1783 to 1882 in nine groups of eleven years; and, from an examination of his tables, we find that there is a decided tendency for high prices to recur at more or less regular intervals of about eleven years, and a similar tendency for low prices. An occasional slight difference can be accounted for by some abnormal cause, as war or famine. Amid all the apparently irregular fluctuations of the yearly prices, there is in every one of the ten provinces of India a periodical rise and fall of prices once every eleven years, corresponding to the regular variation which takes place in the number of sun-spots during the same period. If it were possible to obtain statistics to show the actual out-turn of the crops each year, the eleven yearly variations calculated therefrom might reasonably correspond with the sun-spot variations even more closely than do the price variations. This is a remarkable coincidence, if nothing more. What if it were yet possible to predict the variations of prices in the coming sun-spot cycle? Such a power would be of immense service. By its aid it could be predicted that, as the present period of low prices has followed the last maximum of sun-spots, which was in the year 1904, it will not last much longer, but that prices must gradually keep rising for the next five years. Could science really predict this, it would be studied by many and blessed by more. Yet the strange coincidence of a century's observations renders the conclusions not only possible, but to some extent probable. CHAPTER XXXIV THE "CHALLENGER" WEATHER REPORTS The _Challenger_ Expedition, commenced by Sir Wyville Thomson, and after his death continued by Sir John Murray, with an able staff of assistants for the several departments, was one of the splendid exceptions to the ordinary British Government stinginess in the furtherance of science. The results of the Expedition were printed in a great number of very handsome volumes at the expense of the Government. And the valuable deductions from the _Challenger's_ Weather Reports by Dr. Alex. Buchan, in his "Atmospheric Circulation," have thrown considerable light upon oceanic weather phenomena. For some of his matured opinions on these, I am here much indebted to him. Humboldt, in 1817, published a treatise on "Isothermal Lines," which initiated a fresh line for the study of atmospheric phenomena. An isotherm is an imaginary line on the earth's surface, passing through places having a corresponding temperature either throughout the year or at any particular period. An isobar is an imaginary line on the earth's surface, connecting places at which the mean height of the barometer at sea-level is the same. To isobars, as well as to isotherms, Dr. Buchan has devoted considerable attention. In 1868, he published an important series of charts containing these, with arrows for prevailing winds over the earth for the months of the year. In this way what are called synoptic charts were established. In the _Challenger_ Report are shown the various movements of the atmosphere, with their corresponding causes. It is thus observed that the prevailing winds are produced by the inequality of the mass of air at different places. The air flows from a region of higher to a region of lower pressure, _i.e._ from where there is an excessive mass of air to fill up some deficiency. And this is the great principle on which the science of meteorology rests, not only as to winds, but as to weather changes. Of the sun's rays which reach the earth, those that fall on the land are absorbed by the surface layer of about 4 feet in thickness. But those that fall on the surface of the ocean penetrate, as shown by the observations of the _Challenger_ Expedition, to a depth of about 500 feet. Hence, in deep waters the temperature of the surface is only partially heated by the direct rays of the sun. In mid-ocean the temperature of the surface scarcely differs 1° Fahr. during the whole day, while the daily variation of the surface layer of land is sometimes 50°. The temperature of the air over the ocean is about three times greater than that of the surface of the open sea over which it lies; but, near land, this increases to five times. The elastic force of vapour is seen in its simplest form on the open sea, as disclosed by these Reports. It is lowest at 4 A.M. and highest at 2 P.M. The relative humidity is just the reverse. When the temperature is highest, the saturation of the air is lowest, and _vice versâ_. So on land when the air, by radiation of heat from the earth, is cooled below the dew-point, dew is produced, and, at the freezing-point, hoar-frost. The _Challenger_ Reports, too, show that the force of the winds on the open sea is subject to no distinct and uniform daily variation, but that on nearing land the force of the wind gives a curve as distinctly marked as the ordinary curve of temperature. That force is lowest from 2 to 4 A.M., and highest from 2 to 4 P.M. Each of the five great oceans gives the same result. At Ben Nevis, on the other hand, these forces are just reversed in strength. It is also shown by the _Challenger_ observations that on the open sea the greatest number of thunder-storms occur from 10 P.M. to 8 A.M. And, from this, Dr. Buchan concludes that over the ocean terrestrial radiation is more powerful than solar radiation in causing those vertical disturbances in the equilibrium of the atmosphere which give rise to the thunder-storm. CHAPTER XXXV WEATHER-FORECASTING To foretell with any degree of certainty the state of the weather for twenty-four hours is of immense advantage to business men, tourists, fishermen, and many others. The weather is everybody's business. And the probabilities of accurate forecasts are so improving that all are more or less giving attention to the morning meteorological reports. Weather-forecasting depends on the principle from vast experience that, if one event happens, a second is likely to follow. According to the extent and accuracy of the data, will be the strength of the probability of correct forecasts. And the great end of popular meteorology is to demonstrate this. We have given some explanations of the weather in some respects unique; and a careful consideration of these explanations will the more convince the reader of the importance of the subject. No doubt the changes of the weather are extremely complex, at times baffling; and the wonder is that forecasts come so near the truth. For instance, the year 1903 almost defied the ordinary rules of weather, for it broke the record for rainfall. And, last year, so repulsive and unseasonable was the spring, that there seemed to be a virtual "withdrawal" of the season. I wrote on it as "The Recession of Spring." Speak about Borrowing Days! We had the equinoctial gales of March about the middle of April. On very few days had we "clear shining to cheer us after rain," for the bitter cold dried up any genial moisture. An old farmer remarked that "We're gaun ower faur North." No one could account for the backwardness of the season. Unless for the cheering songs of the grove-charmers, one would have forgotten the time of the year. In March of this year, at Strathmore, the barometer fell from 30·5 inches (the highest for years) to 28·65 in five days without unfavourable weather following. It again rose to 30·05, then fell to 28·45, followed by a rise to 28·7 without any peculiar change. But in two days it fell to 28·4 (the lowest for years), followed by a deluge of rain and a perfect hurricane for several hours, while the temperature was fortunately mild. It was only evident at the end that this universal storm had been "brewing" some days before. All are familiar with the ordinary prognostics of good and bad weather. A "broch" round the moon, in her troubled heaven, indicates a storm of rain or wind. When the dark crimson sun in the evening throws a brilliant bronzed light on the gables and dead leaves, we are sure that there is an intense radiation from the earth to form dew, or even hoar-frost. According to the meteorological folk-lore, the weather of the summer season is indicated by the foliation of the oak and ash trees. If the oak comes first into leaf, the summer will be hot and dry, if the ash has the precedence it will be wet and cold. Looking over the observations of the budding of these two trees for half a century, I find that the weather-lore adage has been pretty correct. The ash was out before the oak a full month in the years 1816, '17, '21, '23, '28, '29, '30, '38, '40, '45, '50, and '59; and the summer and autumn in these years were unfavourable. Again, the oak was out before the ash several weeks in the years 1818, '19, '20, '22, '24, '25, '26, '27, '33, '34, '35, '36, '37, '42, '46, '54, '68, and '69; the summers during these years were dry and warm, and the harvests were abundant. One can never think of this weather prognostic from nature without recalling the Swallow Song of Tennyson's "Princess":-- "Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love, Delaying, as the tender ash delays To clothe herself, when all the woods are green?" On a muggy morning a sudden clearness in the south "drowns the ploughman." And yet enough blue in the sky "tae mak' a pair o' breeks" cheers one with the assurance of coming dry and sunny weather. The low flying of the swallows betokens rain, as well as any unseasonable dancing of midges in the evening. Sore corns on the feet, and rheumatism in the joints, are direful precursors. The leaves are all a-tremble before the approach of thunder. But throughout this volume I have given many illustrations. But one of the largest and most important practical problems of meteorology is to ascertain the course which storms follow, and the causes by which that course is determined, so that a forecast may thereby be made, not only of the certain approach of a storm, but the particular direction and force of the storm. The method of conducting this large inquiry most effectively was devised by the French astronomer, Le Verrier--the great aspirant, with our own Couch Adams, for the discovery of the planet Neptune. He began to carry this out in 1858 by the daily publication of weather data, followed by a synchronous weather map, which showed graphically for the morning of the day of publication the atmospheric pressure and the direction and force of the wind, together with tables of temperature, rainfall, cloud, and sea disturbances from a large number of places in all parts of Europe. It is from similar maps that forecasts of storms are still framed, and suitable warnings issued; and a mass of information is being collected by telegraph from sixty stations in the British Islands, &c., of the state of the weather at eight o'clock every morning, and analysed and arranged at the Meteorological Office in London for the evening's forecasts over the different districts of the country. A juster knowledge is being now acquired of those great atmospheric movements, and other changes, which form the groundwork of weather-forecasting. The Meteorological Office, Westminster (entirely distinct from the Royal Meteorological Society), is administered by a Council (Chairman, Sir R. Strachey; Scottish member, Dr. Buchan), selected by the Royal Society. It employs a staff of over forty. The chief departments relate to: (1) Ocean Meteorology, including the collection, tabulation, and discussion of meteorological data from British ships, the preparation of ocean weather charts, and the issue of meteorological instruments to the Royal Navy and Mercantile Marine; (2) Weather Telegraphy, including the reception of telegrams thrice a day from selected stations for the preparation of the daily reports and weather forecasts. Representatives of newspapers, &c., receive copies of the 11 A.M. forecast based on the 8 A.M. observations; and also of the 8.30 P.M. forecasts based on the observations received earlier in the day. In summer and autumn harvest forecasts are issued by telegraph to individuals who will defray the cost. The Office also collects climatological data from a number of voluntary and some subsidised stations. The "first order" stations include Valentia, Falmouth, Kew, and Aberdeen. These have self-recording instruments of high precision, giving a continuous record of the meteorological elements. A Government Commission which sat last year, under the Rt. Hon. Sir Herbert Maxwell, Bart., have issued a Report, recommending a number of changes in the management and constitution of the Meteorological Office; and considerable modifications are not unlikely to take place in the near future. In his evidence before that Commission, the Chairman of the Council acknowledged that the great function of meteorologists is the collection of facts; but the interpretation of those collected facts, in a scientific manner, is still in a very immature condition. Dr. Buchan, in his evidence, confessed that forecasting by the Council is purely "by rule of thumb." It is not possible to lay down hard and fast rules for forecasting. With regard to the storm-warning telegrams, as a rule, the earliest trustworthy indication of the approach of a dangerous storm to the coasts of the British Isles precedes the storm by only a few hours. Delays are therefore very serious. It is admitted by the best British meteorologists that the observations of the United States are better conducted, although the best instruments in the world are set and registered at Kew, in England. The work of weather forecasts and storm warnings is carried on with the highest degree of promptitude and efficiency at the Washington Central Office. This is because the work of predictions has been hitherto the chief work of the Office: the entire time of the observers, on whose telegraphic reports the forecasts are based, is controlled by the United States Weather Bureau; and the right of precedence in the use of wires is maintained. Professor Brückner, of Berne, has devoted a lifetime to the comparatively new treatment of climatic oscillations, based upon observations made at 321 points on the earth's surface, distributed as follows: Europe, 198; Asia, 39; N. America, 50; Cen. and S. America, 16; Australia, 12; Africa, 6. One of his conclusions is that an average time of about thirty-five years is found to intervene between one period of excess or deficiency of warmth and the next, accompanied by the opposite relative condition of moisture. All are familiar with the hoisting of cone-warning as indication of a coming storm. This work is exceedingly important, especially for those connected with the sea by business or pleasure. On the known approach of a cyclone of dangerous intensity, special messages are sent from the London Meteorological Office, warning the coasts likely to be affected. When the cone is hoisted with its apex downwards, it means that strong south or south-west winds are to be looked for. When the cone is hoisted with its apex upwards, it indicates that strong winds from the north or north-east are expected. Of course they are merely useful precautions; but they are universally attended to by people on the sea-coast. Though one may have reasonable doubts about the use that can be made of weather forecasts for three days, such as are now regularly issued, on account of the finical, coy, spasmodic interludes on short notice, yet there is a wonderful certainty in the daily prognostics of the direction and strength of the wind, the temperature of the air, and the likelihood of rainy or fair weather, dependent on the broad uniformity of nature. This is very serviceable for people who have now to live at high pressure in business, in the enthralling days of keen competition. And it is a great boon to those who are in search of health by travelling, or who, in innocent pleasure, desire to live as much as possible in the open air. Very little credit is given to the "gas" of the isolated "weather prophet"; but those who have confidence in the usual weather forecasts from the Meteorological Office are satisfied in their belief; and those who, in self-confidence, ignore all weather prognostics, are still weak enough to read them and act up to them. * * * * * In practical meteorology, in the scientific explanation of popular weather-lore, and in the study of atmospheric phenomena, which so powerfully influence us, for gladness or discomfort, we may, as with other branches of science, even all our days, cheerfully go on in "the noiseless tenor of our way," "Nourishing a youth sublime, With the fairy tales of science and the long results of time." INDEX Abercromby, spectre on Adam's Peak, 89 Adam's Peak, spectre, 89 Afterglow described, 62; dust-particles to form, 64 Air, change of, 55; clearness and dryness, 49; devitalised, 52; disease-germs in, 53; thunder-clouds, 49 Aitken, Dr., afterglows, 67; anti-cyclones, 97; colour of water, 75; condensing power of dust, 2; decay of clouds, 39; dew-formation, 14; dust and atmospheric phenomena, 29; electrical deposition of smoke, 83; false dew, 18; fog-counter, 82; foreglows, 67; formation of clouds, 35; haze, 44; hazing effects of atmospheric dust, 47; Kingairloch experiments, 30; one-coloured rainbow, 70; radiation from snow, 86; regenerators, 85; sanitary detective, 78 Ammonia and cloud formation, 36 Annie Laurie, 17 Anti-cyclones, forecasting by, 97; formation, 97; cause of influenza, 109 Aratus, forecasting by moon, 61 Ariel's song, 42 Aurora Borealis, 71; forebodings, 71-73; name by Gassendi, 72; other names, 72; safety valve of electricity, 72; sun's spots, 72; sun control, 74; symptoms, 72 Bagillt, condensing lead fumes, 84 Ballachulish, sunsets, 64 Ballantine's song, 17 Barometer, indications, 10 Ben Nevis, dust-particles, 30; instruments, 104; meteorology, 102; observations, 105; rainfall, 103; regret at stoppage of Observatory, 103 Blairgowrie, personal description of afterglow, 62 Blue sky, 74; cause of, 75, 77 Borrowing days, 117 Brocken, spectre, 89; personal description, 90; Noah's Ark, 90 Brückner, climatic oscillations, 122 Buchan, Dr., Aitken's radiation from snow, 86; Ben Nevis, papers on, 103; _Challenger_ Reports, 114; cold of 1886, 86; east winds, 94; isobars, 115; rainfall statistics, 100; on forecasting, 121 Buchanan, Ben Nevis Observatory, 102; great prevalence of fog, 106 Buddha's Lights, of Ceylon, 72 Burns, allusions to aurora, 71, 73 Byron, storm in Alps, 50 _Challenger_ Expedition, 114; temperature, 115; thunder-storms, 116; winds, 116 Chambers on sun-spots and grain prices, 113 Change of air, 55; Strathmore to Glenisla, 56 Charles II., fog and smoke, 80 Chlorine and cloud formation, 36 Christison and colour of water, 75 Chrystal on Aitken's radiation from snow, 86 Cirro-stratus cloud, mackerel-like, 39 Climate, _Challenger_ notes, 115; cone-warnings, 120; Gulf Stream, 111; oscillations, 120; rainfall, 111; sun-spots on, 112; wooded country on, 111 Clouds, decay of, 37; distances of, 35; dry, 42; even without dust, 36; formation of, 34; height of, 34; numbering of cloud-particles, 34; sunshine on cloud formation, 35; varieties of, 35 Cone-warnings, 121 Continental winds, 98 Cyclones, 95; formation of, 96, 98; small natural, 98 Decay of clouds, 37; in thin rain, 41; process, 38; ripple markings, 39 Dew, evidence of rising, 22; experiments, 15, 16; false dew, 17; formation of, 13 Disease-germs in air, 53; causes, 53; deposited by rain, 55 Diseases, and east wind, 94; personal notes, 95 Dumfries, dust in air at, 46 Dust, condensing power, 43; from meteors, 37; generally necessary for cloud formation, 26; hazing effects, 47; numbering, 26; instruments for numbering, 27; produces afterglows, 64; produces foreglows, 67; quantity in Bunsen flame, 28; at Ben Nevis, 30; Hyères, Mentone, Rigi Kulm, 29; Lucerne, Kingairloch, 30; when not necessary, 36 Dust enumeration, deductions on, 31 Earn, Loch, splash of drop at, 101 Earthshine, 59 Ehrenberg, on colour of water, 75 Evelyn, fumifugium, 80; remedy for smoke, 82 Falkirk, Dr. Aitken's experiments on haze, 47 False dew, 19 Fitzroy on aurora as a foreboder, 73 Fog, counter, 31; dry, 41; formation, 24; more in towns, 25; and smoke, 80 Folk-lore, 50 Foreglow, described, 66; how produced, 67 Fort William Observatory, 102 Frankland, disease-germs, 53 Franklin, lightning, 51 Gassendi, named aurora, 72 Gillespie, Dr., on weather and influenza, 107 Glasgow, fog, 81 Glass, appearing damp, 44 Glenisla, ozoned air, 56 Grain crops and sun-spots, 112; Chambers' tables, 113 Great amazing light in the north, 72 Gulf Stream, effects on climate, 111 Gunpowder, great condensing power, 44 Haze, what is, 43; how produced, 44; in clearest air, 45; stages of condensation, 46; in sultry weather, 46; dryness of air and visibility, 48 Health improved by change of air, 56 Highland air, few disease-germs, 55 Hoar-frost, frozen dew, 20; on under surfaces, 21 Humboldt, isotherms, 114 Hydrogen peroxide and cloud formation, 36 Hyères, dust-particles, 29 Indian Ocean, colour, 75 Influenza, weather and, 107; six distinct epidemics, 108; spread of anti-cyclonic conditions, 109 Isobars by Buchan, 115 Isotherms by Humboldt, 114 Italian lakes, stages of condensation, 45 Job, on dew formation, 13 Kelvin recorder, 84; Aitken's radiation from snow, 86 Kew, instruments set, 121 Kingairloch, dust-particles, 30, 46 Kirchhoff, lower temperature of sun-spot, 112 Krakatoa, eruption of, dust-particles, 63 Le Verrier and weathercharts, 119 Lockyer, and sun-spots, 112 Lightning, electricity, 51; photographed, 51; sheet and forked, 51; ozone, 52 Lodge, electrical deposition of smoke, 83 London, coals consumed, 25; sulphur and fog, 25; fog in reign of Charles II., 81; Meteorological Office, 11, 120 Lord Derwentwater's Lights, 72 Lower animals, sensitiveness, 11 Lucerne, dust-particles, 30 MacLaren, Aitken's radiation from snow, 86 Magnesia, small affinity for water-vapour, 44 Man in the street, 11 Mediterranean, brilliant colour, 77 Mentone, dust-particles, 29 Merry Dancers of Shetland, 71 Meteors, producing dust, 37 Meteorological Council, London, 103; Office, 120; cone-warnings, 121; regular forecasts, 123 Milne Home on Ben Nevis, 103 Milton, dust numberless, 26 Moon, old, in new moon's arms, 58; weather indications, 59, 61 Mountain giants, 88; Adam's Peak, 89; Brocken, 89 Munich, International Meteorological Conference, 35 Murray, _Challenger_ Expedition, 114 Nardius, dew exhalation, 13 Newton, colour of sky, 77 Nimbus, cloud, 35 Oak and ash, on climate, 118 Ochils, one-coloured rainbow, 70 Pacific, colour, 75 Paris, aurora, 71; disease-germs, 55 Paton, Waller, bronze tints in sunsets, 64 Piazzi Smith, aurora, 72 Picket, dew-formation, 14 Pilatus, fine rain, 42 Polar lightnings, 72 Radiant heat, producing fine rain, 41 Radiation from snow, 86 Rain, 98; heavy rainfalls, 99 Rainbow, 68; forecasts, 62, 69; formation, 69; one-coloured, 70 Rains, it always, 40; radiant heat in process, 41; Ariel's song, 43 Rankin, dust-particles, Ben Nevis, 30 Richardson, devitalised air, 51 Rigi Kulm, dust-particles, 29 Rolier, aurora, 73 St. Paul's, London, disease-germs in air, 54 Sanitary detective, 78 Shakespeare, tempest, 95 Shelley, old moon in new moon's arms, 59 Simoom and sirocco, 94 Skye, rainy, 40 Smoke, electrical deposition of, 83; regenerators, 85 Smoking-room, condensing power, 44 Snow, bad conducting, 87; radiation from, 86 Sodium dust, condensing power, 45 Spens, forebodings of moon, 61 Splash of a drop, experiments, 101 Stevenson, R. L., splash of drop, 101 Stewart, sun-spots, 112 Strachey on forecasts, 121 Strathmore, observations on hoar-frost, 22; on decay of clouds, 38; to Glenisla, change of air, 56; observations on old moon in new moon's arms, 59; afterglow described, 62; foreglow, 66; cold of 1886, 86; healthy by woods, 111; observations on barometer, 118 Strathpeffer, 9 Sulphur as a fog-former, 25 Sulphuretted hydrogen and cloud-formation, 36 Sunshine on cloud-formation, 35 Sun's spots, and aurora, 72, 112; and grain crops, 112 Symons, rainfall, 100 Synoptic charts, 98 Tait, on Aitken's radiation from snow, 86 Tay Bridge, fall of, 92 Tennyson, aurora, 71; dew, 19; oak and ash, 119 Thermometer, indications, 10 Thomson, Wyville, _Challenger_ Expedition, 114 Thunder-storm described, 50 Valkyries, aurora, 73 Visibility, limit of, 48 Washington, Meteorological Office, 121 Water, pressure to show plant exudation, 18; colour of, 75; experiments on distilled, 76; dust-particles vary colour, 77 Weather and influenza, 107 Weather-forecasting, 116; advantages, 117; principle, 117; examples, 118; old moon in new moon's arms, 59; by moon, 61; oak and ash, 118; cone-warnings, 122; three days', 123 Weather-lore, 50, 118 Weather talisman, 9; call on barometer and thermometer, 10; exceptional years, 117 Wells, Dr., on dew, 14 Wilson, Prof., on hoar-frost, 20 Wind, 92; rates, 92; trade, 93; land and sea, 93 Woeikof, durability of cold, 88 Wordsworth, rainbow, 68 Worthington, splash of drop, 100 Wragge, observations at Ben Nevis, 104 Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. Edinburgh & London 
22472	----	THE BOOK OF THE DAMNED 1 A procession of the damned. By the damned, I mean the excluded. We shall have a procession of data that Science has excluded. Battalions of the accursed, captained by pallid data that I have exhumed, will march. You'll read them--or they'll march. Some of them livid and some of them fiery and some of them rotten. Some of them are corpses, skeletons, mummies, twitching, tottering, animated by companions that have been damned alive. There are giants that will walk by, though sound asleep. There are things that are theorems and things that are rags: they'll go by like Euclid arm in arm with the spirit of anarchy. Here and there will flit little harlots. Many are clowns. But many are of the highest respectability. Some are assassins. There are pale stenches and gaunt superstitions and mere shadows and lively malices: whims and amiabilities. The naïve and the pedantic and the bizarre and the grotesque and the sincere and the insincere, the profound and the puerile. A stab and a laugh and the patiently folded hands of hopeless propriety. The ultra-respectable, but the condemned, anyway. The aggregate appearance is of dignity and dissoluteness: the aggregate voice is a defiant prayer: but the spirit of the whole is processional. The power that has said to all these things that they are damned, is Dogmatic Science. But they'll march. The little harlots will caper, and freaks will distract attention, and the clowns will break the rhythm of the whole with their buffooneries--but the solidity of the procession as a whole: the impressiveness of things that pass and pass and pass, and keep on and keep on and keep on coming. The irresistibleness of things that neither threaten nor jeer nor defy, but arrange themselves in mass-formations that pass and pass and keep on passing. * * * * * So, by the damned, I mean the excluded. But by the excluded I mean that which will some day be the excluding. Or everything that is, won't be. And everything that isn't, will be-- But, of course, will be that which won't be-- It is our expression that the flux between that which isn't and that which won't be, or the state that is commonly and absurdly called "existence," is a rhythm of heavens and hells: that the damned won't stay damned; that salvation only precedes perdition. The inference is that some day our accursed tatterdemalions will be sleek angels. Then the sub-inference is that some later day, back they'll go whence they came. * * * * * It is our expression that nothing can attempt to be, except by attempting to exclude something else: that that which is commonly called "being" is a state that is wrought more or less definitely proportionately to the appearance of positive difference between that which is included and that which is excluded. But it is our expression that there are no positive differences: that all things are like a mouse and a bug in the heart of a cheese. Mouse and a bug: no two things could seem more unlike. They're there a week, or they stay there a month: both are then only transmutations of cheese. I think we're all bugs and mice, and are only different expressions of an all-inclusive cheese. Or that red is not positively different from yellow: is only another degree of whatever vibrancy yellow is a degree of: that red and yellow are continuous, or that they merge in orange. So then that, if, upon the basis of yellowness and redness, Science should attempt to classify all phenomena, including all red things as veritable, and excluding all yellow things as false or illusory, the demarcation would have to be false and arbitrary, because things colored orange, constituting continuity, would belong on both sides of the attempted borderline. As we go along, we shall be impressed with this: That no basis for classification, or inclusion and exclusion, more reasonable than that of redness and yellowness has ever been conceived of. Science has, by appeal to various bases, included a multitude of data. Had it not done so, there would be nothing with which to seem to be. Science has, by appeal to various bases, excluded a multitude of data. Then, if redness is continuous with yellowness: if every basis of admission is continuous with every basis of exclusion, Science must have excluded some things that are continuous with the accepted. In redness and yellowness, which merge in orangeness, we typify all tests, all standards, all means of forming an opinion-- Or that any positive opinion upon any subject is illusion built upon the fallacy that there are positive differences to judge by-- That the quest of all intellection has been for something--a fact, a basis, a generalization, law, formula, a major premise that is positive: that the best that has ever been done has been to say that some things are self-evident--whereas, by evidence we mean the support of something else-- That this is the quest; but that it has never been attained; but that Science has acted, ruled, pronounced, and condemned as if it had been attained. What is a house? It is not possible to say what anything is, as positively distinguished from anything else, if there are no positive differences. A barn is a house, if one lives in it. If residence constitutes houseness, because style of architecture does not, then a bird's nest is a house: and human occupancy is not the standard to judge by, because we speak of dogs' houses; nor material, because we speak of snow houses of Eskimos--or a shell is a house to a hermit crab--or was to the mollusk that made it--or things seemingly so positively different as the White House at Washington and a shell on the seashore are seen to be continuous. So no one has ever been able to say what electricity is, for instance. It isn't anything, as positively distinguished from heat or magnetism or life. Metaphysicians and theologians and biologists have tried to define life. They have failed, because, in a positive sense, there is nothing to define: there is no phenomenon of life that is not, to some degree, manifest in chemism, magnetism, astronomic motions. White coral islands in a dark blue sea. Their seeming of distinctness: the seeming of individuality, or of positive difference one from another--but all are only projections from the same sea bottom. The difference between sea and land is not positive. In all water there is some earth: in all earth there is some water. So then that all seeming things are not things at all, if all are inter-continuous, any more than is the leg of a table a thing in itself, if it is only a projection from something else: that not one of us is a real person, if, physically, we're continuous with environment; if, psychically, there is nothing to us but expression of relation to environment. Our general expression has two aspects: Conventional monism, or that all "things" that seem to have identity of their own are only islands that are projections from something underlying, and have no real outlines of their own. But that all "things," though only projections, are projections that are striving to break away from the underlying that denies them identity of their own. I conceive of one inter-continuous nexus, in which and of which all seeming things are only different expressions, but in which all things are localizations of one attempt to break away and become real things, or to establish entity or positive difference or final demarcation or unmodified independence--or personality or soul, as it is called in human phenomena-- That anything that tries to establish itself as a real, or positive, or absolute system, government, organization, self, soul, entity, individuality, can so attempt only by drawing a line about itself, or about the inclusions that constitute itself, and damning or excluding, or breaking away from, all other "things": That, if it does not so act, it cannot seem to be; That, if it does so act, it falsely and arbitrarily and futilely and disastrously acts, just as would one who draws a circle in the sea, including a few waves, saying that the other waves, with which the included are continuous, are positively different, and stakes his life upon maintaining that the admitted and the damned are positively different. Our expression is that our whole existence is animation of the local by an ideal that is realizable only in the universal: That, if all exclusions are false, because always are included and excluded continuous: that if all seeming of existence perceptible to us is the product of exclusion, there is nothing that is perceptible to us that really is: that only the universal can really be. Our especial interest is in modern science as a manifestation of this one ideal or purpose or process: That it has falsely excluded, because there are no positive standards to judge by: that it has excluded things that, by its own pseudo-standards, have as much right to come in as have the chosen. * * * * * Our general expression: That the state that is commonly and absurdly called "existence," is a flow, or a current, or an attempt, from negativeness to positiveness, and is intermediate to both. By positiveness we mean: Harmony, equilibrium, order, regularity, stability, consistency, unity, realness, system, government, organization, liberty, independence, soul, self, personality, entity, individuality, truth, beauty, justice, perfection, definiteness-- That all that is called development, progress, or evolution is movement toward, or attempt toward, this state for which, or for aspects of which, there are so many names, all of which are summed up in the one word "positiveness." At first this summing up may not be very readily acceptable. At first it may seem that all these words are not synonyms: that "harmony" may mean "order," but that by "independence," for instance, we do not mean "truth," or that by "stability" we do not mean "beauty," or "system," or "justice." I conceive of one inter-continuous nexus, which expresses itself in astronomic phenomena, and chemic, biologic, psychic, sociologic: that it is everywhere striving to localize positiveness: that to this attempt in various fields of phenomena--which are only quasi-different--we give different names. We speak of the "system" of the planets, and not of their "government": but in considering a store, for instance, and its management, we see that the words are interchangeable. It used to be customary to speak of chemic equilibrium, but not of social equilibrium: that false demarcation has been broken down. We shall see that by all these words we mean the same state. As every-day conveniences, or in terms of common illusions, of course, they are not synonyms. To a child an earth worm is not an animal. It is to the biologist. By "beauty," I mean that which seems complete. Obversely, that the incomplete, or the mutilated, is the ugly. Venus de Milo. To a child she is ugly. When a mind adjusts to thinking of her as a completeness, even though, by physiologic standards, incomplete, she is beautiful. A hand thought of only as a hand, may seem beautiful. Found on a battlefield--obviously a part--not beautiful. But everything in our experience is only a part of something else that in turn is only a part of still something else--or that there is nothing beautiful in our experience: only appearances that are intermediate to beauty and ugliness--that only universality is complete: that only the complete is the beautiful: that every attempt to achieve beauty is an attempt to give to the local the attribute of the universal. By stability, we mean the immovable and the unaffected. But all seeming things are only reactions to something else. Stability, too, then, can be only the universal, or that besides which there is nothing else. Though some things seem to have--or have--higher approximations to stability than have others, there are, in our experience, only various degrees of intermediateness to stability and instability. Every man, then, who works for stability under its various names of "permanency," "survival," "duration," is striving to localize in something the state that is realizable only in the universal. By independence, entity, and individuality, I can mean only that besides which there is nothing else, if given only two things, they must be continuous and mutually affective, if everything is only a reaction to something else, and any two things would be destructive of each other's independence, entity, or individuality. All attempted organizations and systems and consistencies, some approximating far higher than others, but all only intermediate to Order and Disorder, fail eventually because of their relations with outside forces. All are attempted completenesses. If to all local phenomena there are always outside forces, these attempts, too, are realizable only in the state of completeness, or that to which there are no outside forces. Or that all these words are synonyms, all meaning the state that we call the positive state-- That our whole "existence" is a striving for the positive state. The amazing paradox of it all: That all things are trying to become the universal by excluding other things. That there is only this one process, and that it does animate all expressions, in all fields of phenomena, of that which we think of as one inter-continuous nexus: The religious and their idea or ideal of the soul. They mean distinct, stable entity, or a state that is independent, and not a mere flux of vibrations or complex of reactions to environment, continuous with environment, merging away with an infinitude of other interdependent complexes. But the only thing that would not merge away into something else would be that besides which there is nothing else. That Truth is only another name for the positive state, or that the quest for Truth is the attempt to achieve positiveness: Scientists who have thought that they were seeking Truth, but who were trying to find out astronomic, or chemic, or biologic truths. But Truth is that besides which there is nothing: nothing to modify it, nothing to question it, nothing to form an exception: the all-inclusive, the complete-- By Truth I mean the Universal. So chemists have sought the true, or the real, and have always failed in their endeavors, because of the outside relations of chemical phenomena: have failed in the sense that never has a chemical law, without exceptions, been discovered: because chemistry is continuous with astronomy, physics, biology--For instance, if the sun should greatly change its distance from this earth, and if human life could survive, the familiar chemic formulas would no longer work out: a new science of chemistry would have to be learned-- Or that all attempts to find Truth in the special are attempts to find the universal in the local. And artists and their striving for positiveness, under the name of "harmony"--but their pigments that are oxydizing, or are responding to a deranging environment--or the strings of musical instruments that are differently and disturbingly adjusting to outside chemic and thermal and gravitational forces--again and again this oneness of all ideals, and that it is the attempt to be, or to achieve, locally, that which is realizable only universally. In our experience there is only intermediateness to harmony and discord. Harmony is that besides which there are no outside forces. And nations that have fought with only one motive: for individuality, or entity, or to be real, final nations, not subordinate to, or parts of, other nations. And that nothing but intermediateness has ever been attained, and that history is record of failures of this one attempt, because there always have been outside forces, or other nations contending for the same goal. As to physical things, chemic, mineralogic, astronomic, it is not customary to say that they act to achieve Truth or Entity, but it is understood that all motions are toward Equilibrium: that there is no motion except toward Equilibrium, of course always away from some other approximation to Equilibrium. All biologic phenomena act to adjust: there are no biologic actions other than adjustments. Adjustment is another name for Equilibrium. Equilibrium is the Universal, or that which has nothing external to derange it. But that all that we call "being" is motion: and that all motion is the expression, not of equilibrium, but of equilibrating, or of equilibrium unattained: that life-motions are expressions of equilibrium unattained: that all thought relates to the unattained: that to have what is called being in our quasi-state, is not to be in the positive sense, or is to be intermediate to Equilibrium and Inequilibrium. So then: That all phenomena in our intermediate state, or quasi-state, represent this one attempt to organize, stabilize, harmonize, individualize--or to positivize, or to become real: That only to have seeming is to express failure or intermediateness to final failure and final success: That every attempt--that is observable--is defeated by Continuity, or by outside forces--or by the excluded that are continuous with the included: That our whole "existence" is an attempt by the relative to be the absolute, or by the local to be the universal. In this book, my interest is in this attempt as manifested in modern science: That it has attempted to be real, true, final, complete, absolute: That, if the seeming of being, here, in our quasi-state, is the product of exclusion that is always false and arbitrary, if always are included and excluded continuous, the whole seeming system, or entity, of modern science is only quasi-system, or quasi-entity, wrought by the same false and arbitrary process as that by which the still less positive system that preceded it, or the theological system, wrought the illusion of its being. In this book, I assemble some of the data that I think are of the falsely and arbitrarily excluded. The data of the damned. I have gone into the outer darkness of scientific and philosophical transactions and proceedings, ultra-respectable, but covered with the dust of disregard. I have descended into journalism. I have come back with the quasi-souls of lost data. They will march. * * * * * As to the logic of our expressions to come-- That there is only quasi-logic in our mode of seeming: That nothing ever has been proved-- Because there is nothing to prove. When I say that there is nothing to prove, I mean that to those who accept Continuity, or the merging away of all phenomena into other phenomena, without positive demarcations one from another, there is, in a positive sense, no one thing. There is nothing to prove. For instance nothing can be proved to be an animal--because animalness and vegetableness are not positively different. There are some expressions of life that are as much vegetable as animal, or that represent the merging of animalness and vegetableness. There is then no positive test, standard, criterion, means of forming an opinion. As distinct from vegetables, animals do not exist. There is nothing to prove. Nothing could be proved to be good, for instance. There is nothing in our "existence" that is good, in a positive sense, or as really outlined from evil. If to forgive be good in times of peace, it is evil in wartime. There is nothing to prove: good in our experience is continuous with, or is only another aspect of evil. As to what I'm trying to do now--I accept only. If I can't see universally, I only localize. So, of course then, that nothing ever has been proved: That theological pronouncements are as much open to doubt as ever they were, but that, by a hypnotizing process, they became dominant over the majority of minds in their era: That, in a succeeding era, the laws, dogmas, formulas, principles, of materialistic science never were proved, because they are only localizations simulating the universal; but that the leading minds of their era of dominance were hypnotized into more or less firmly believing them. Newton's three laws, and that they are attempts to achieve positiveness, or to defy and break Continuity, and are as unreal as are all other attempts to localize the universal: That, if every observable body is continuous, mediately or immediately, with all other bodies, it cannot be influenced only by its own inertia, so that there is no way of knowing what the phenomena of inertia may be; that, if all things are reacting to an infinitude of forces, there is no way of knowing what the effects of only one impressed force would be; that if every reaction is continuous with its action, it cannot be conceived of as a whole, and that there is no way of conceiving what it might be equal and opposite to-- Or that Newton's three laws are three articles of faith: Or that demons and angels and inertias and reactions are all mythological characters: But that, in their eras of dominance, they were almost as firmly believed in as if they had been proved. * * * * * Enormities and preposterousnesses will march. They will be "proved" as well as Moses or Darwin or Lyell ever "proved" anything. * * * * * We substitute acceptance for belief. Cells of an embryo take on different appearances in different eras. The more firmly established, the more difficult to change. That social organism is embryonic. That firmly to believe is to impede development. That only temporarily to accept is to facilitate. * * * * * But: Except that we substitute acceptance for belief, our methods will be the conventional methods; the means by which every belief has been formulated and supported: or our methods will be the methods of theologians and savages and scientists and children. Because, if all phenomena are continuous, there can be no positively different methods. By the inconclusive means and methods of cardinals and fortune tellers and evolutionists and peasants, methods which must be inconclusive, if they relate always to the local, and if there is nothing local to conclude, we shall write this book. If it function as an expression of its era, it will prevail. * * * * * All sciences begin with attempts to define. Nothing ever has been defined. Because there is nothing to define. Darwin wrote _The Origin of Species_. He was never able to tell what he meant by a "species." It is not possible to define. Nothing has ever been finally found out. Because there is nothing final to find out. It's like looking for a needle that no one ever lost in a haystack that never was-- But that all scientific attempts really to find out something, whereas really there is nothing to find out, are attempts, themselves, really to be something. A seeker of Truth. He will never find it. But the dimmest of possibilities--he may himself become Truth. Or that science is more than an inquiry: That it is a pseudo-construction, or a quasi-organization: that it is an attempt to break away and locally establish harmony, stability, equilibrium, consistency, entity-- Dimmest of possibilities--that it may succeed. * * * * * That ours is a pseudo-existence, and that all appearances in it partake of its essential fictitiousness-- But that some appearances approximate far more highly to the positive state than do others. We conceive of all "things" as occupying gradations, or steps in series between positiveness and negativeness, or realness and unrealness: that some seeming things are more nearly consistent, just, beautiful, unified, individual, harmonious, stable--than others. We are not realists. We are not idealists. We are intermediatists--that nothing is real, but that nothing is unreal: that all phenomena are approximations one way or the other between realness and unrealness. So then: That our whole quasi-existence is an intermediate stage between positiveness and negativeness or realness and unrealness. Like purgatory, I think. But in our summing up, which was very sketchily done, we omitted to make clear that Realness is an aspect of the positive state. By Realness, I mean that which does not merge away into something else, and that which is not partly something else: that which is not a reaction to, or an imitation of, something else. By a real hero, we mean one who is not partly a coward, or whose actions and motives do not merge away into cowardice. But, if in Continuity, all things do merge, by Realness, I mean the Universal, besides which there is nothing with which to merge. That, though the local might be universalized, it is not conceivable that the universal can be localized: but that high approximations there may be, and that these approximate successes may be translated out of Intermediateness into Realness--quite as, in a relative sense, the industrial world recruits itself by translating out of unrealness, or out of the seemingly less real imaginings of inventors, machines which seem, when set up in factories, to have more of Realness than they had when only imagined. That all progress, if all progress is toward stability, organization, harmony, consistency, or positiveness, is the attempt to become real. So, then, in general metaphysical terms, our expression is that, like a purgatory, all that is commonly called "existence," which we call Intermediateness, is quasi-existence, neither real nor unreal, but expression of attempt to become real, or to generate for or recruit a real existence. Our acceptance is that Science, though usually thought of so specifically, or in its own local terms, usually supposed to be a prying into old bones, bugs, unsavory messes, is an expression of this one spirit animating all Intermediateness: that, if Science could absolutely exclude all data but its own present data, or that which is assimilable with the present quasi-organization, it would be a real system, with positively definite outlines--it would be real. Its seeming approximation to consistency, stability, system--positiveness or realness--is sustained by damning the irreconcilable or the unassimilable-- All would be well. All would be heavenly-- If the damned would only stay damned. 2 In the autumn of 1883, and for years afterward, occurred brilliant-colored sunsets, such as had never been seen before within the memory of all observers. Also there were blue moons. I think that one is likely to smile incredulously at the notion of blue moons. Nevertheless they were as common as were green suns in 1883. Science had to account for these unconventionalities. Such publications as _Nature_ and _Knowledge_ were besieged with inquiries. I suppose, in Alaska and in the South Sea Islands, all the medicine men were similarly upon trial. Something had to be thought of. Upon the 28th of August, 1883, the volcano of Krakatoa, of the Straits of Sunda, had blown up. Terrific. We're told that the sound was heard 2,000 miles, and that 36,380 persons were killed. Seems just a little unscientific, or impositive, to me: marvel to me we're not told 2,163 miles and 36,387 persons. The volume of smoke that went up must have been visible to other planets--or, tormented with our crawlings and scurryings, the earth complained to Mars; swore a vast black oath at us. In all text-books that mention this occurrence--no exception so far so I have read--it is said that the extraordinary atmospheric effects of 1883 were first noticed in the last of August or the first of September. That makes a difficulty for us. It is said that these phenomena were caused by particles of volcanic dust that were cast high in the air by Krakatoa. This is the explanation that was agreed upon in 1883-- But for seven years the atmospheric phenomena continued-- Except that, in the seven, there was a lapse of several years--and where was the volcanic dust all that time? You'd think that such a question as that would make trouble? Then you haven't studied hypnosis. You have never tried to demonstrate to a hypnotic that a table is not a hippopotamus. According to our general acceptance, it would be impossible to demonstrate such a thing. Point out a hundred reasons for saying that a hippopotamus is not a table: you'll have to end up agreeing that neither is a table a table--it only seems to be a table. Well, that's what the hippopotamus seems to be. So how can you prove that something is not something else, when neither is something else some other thing? There's nothing to prove. This is one of the profundities that we advertised in advance. You can oppose an absurdity only with some other absurdity. But Science is established preposterousness. We divide all intellection: the obviously preposterousness and the established. But Krakatoa: that's the explanation that the scientists gave. I don't know what whopper the medicine men told. We see, from the start, the very strong inclination of science to deny, as much as it can, external relations of this earth. This book is an assemblage of data of external relations of this earth. We take the position that our data have been damned, upon no consideration for individual merits or demerits, but in conformity with a general attempt to hold out for isolation of this earth. This is attempted positiveness. We take the position that science can no more succeed than, in a similar endeavor, could the Chinese, or than could the United States. So then, with only pseudo-consideration of the phenomena of 1883, or as an expression of positivism in its aspect of isolation, or unrelatedness, scientists have perpetrated such an enormity as suspension of volcanic dust seven years in the air--disregarding the lapse of several years--rather than to admit the arrival of dust from somewhere beyond this earth. Not that scientists themselves have ever achieved positiveness, in its aspect of unitedness, among themselves--because Nordenskiold, before 1883, wrote a great deal upon his theory of cosmic dust, and Prof. Cleveland Abbe contended against the Krakatoan explanation--but that this is the orthodoxy of the main body of scientists. My own chief reason for indignation here: That this preposterous explanation interferes with some of my own enormities. It would cost me too much explaining, if I should have to admit that this earth's atmosphere has such sustaining power. Later, we shall have data of things that have gone up in the air and that have stayed up--somewhere--weeks--months--but not by the sustaining power of this earth's atmosphere. For instance, the turtle of Vicksburg. It seems to me that it would be ridiculous to think of a good-sized turtle hanging, for three or four months, upheld only by the air, over the town of Vicksburg. When it comes to the horse and the barn--I think that they'll be classics some day, but I can never accept that a horse and a barn could float several months in this earth's atmosphere. The orthodox explanation: See the _Report of the Krakatoa Committee of the Royal Society_. It comes out absolutely for the orthodox explanation--absolutely and beautifully, also expensively. There are 492 pages in the "Report," and 40 plates, some of them marvelously colored. It was issued after an investigation that took five years. You couldn't think of anything done more efficiently, artistically, authoritatively. The mathematical parts are especially impressive: distribution of the dust of Krakatoa; velocity of translation and rates of subsidence; altitudes and persistences-- _Annual Register_, 1883-105: That the atmospheric effects that have been attributed to Krakatoa were seen in Trinidad before the eruption occurred: _Knowledge_, 5-418: That they were seen in Natal, South Africa, six months before the eruption. * * * * * Inertia and its inhospitality. Or raw meat should not be fed to babies. We shall have a few data initiatorily. I fear me that the horse and the barn were a little extreme for our budding liberalities. The outrageous is the reasonable, if introduced politely. Hailstones, for instance. One reads in the newspapers of hailstones the size of hens' eggs. One smiles. Nevertheless I will engage to list one hundred instances, from the _Monthly Weather Review_, of hailstones the size of hens' eggs. There is an account in _Nature_, Nov. 1, 1894, of hailstones that weighed almost two pounds each. See Chambers' Encyclopedia for three-pounders. _Report of the Smithsonian Institution_, 1870-479--two-pounders authenticated, and six-pounders reported. At Seringapatam, India, about the year 1800, fell a hailstone-- I fear me, I fear me: this is one of the profoundly damned. I blurt out something that should, perhaps, be withheld for several hundred pages--but that damned thing was the size of an elephant. We laugh. Or snowflakes. Size of saucers. Said to have fallen at Nashville, Tenn., Jan. 24, 1891. One smiles. "In Montana, in the winter of 1887, fell snowflakes 15 inches across, and 8 inches thick." (_Monthly Weather Review_, 1915-73.) In the topography of intellection, I should say that what we call knowledge is ignorance surrounded by laughter. * * * * * Black rains--red rains--the fall of a thousand tons of butter. Jet-black snow--pink snow--blue hailstones--hailstones flavored like oranges. Punk and silk and charcoal. * * * * * About one hundred years ago, if anyone was so credulous as to think that stones had ever fallen from the sky, he was reasoned with: In the first place there are no stones in the sky: Therefore no stones can fall from the sky. Or nothing more reasonable or scientific or logical than that could be said upon any subject. The only trouble is the universal trouble: that the major premise is not real, or is intermediate somewhere between realness and unrealness. In 1772, a committee, of whom Lavoisier was a member, was appointed by the French Academy, to investigate a report that a stone had fallen from the sky at Luce, France. Of all attempts at positiveness, in its aspect of isolation, I don't know of anything that has been fought harder for than the notion of this earth's unrelatedness. Lavoisier analyzed the stone of Luce. The exclusionists' explanation at that time was that stones do not fall from the sky: that luminous objects may seem to fall, and that hot stones may be picked up where a luminous object seemingly had landed--only lightning striking a stone, heating, even melting it. The stone of Luce showed signs of fusion. Lavoisier's analysis "absolutely proved" that this stone had not fallen: that it had been struck by lightning. So, authoritatively, falling stones were damned. The stock means of exclusion remained the explanation of lightning that was seen to strike something--that had been upon the ground in the first place. But positiveness and the fate of every positive statement. It is not customary to think of damned stones raising an outcry against a sentence of exclusion, but, subjectively, aerolites did--or data of them bombarded the walls raised against them-- _Monthly Review_, 1796-426 "The phenomenon which is the subject of the remarks before us will seem to most persons as little worthy of credit as any that could be offered. The falling of large stones from the sky, without any assignable cause of their previous ascent, seems to partake so much of the marvelous as almost entirely to exclude the operation of known and natural agents. Yet a body of evidence is here brought to prove that such events have actually taken place, and we ought not to withhold from it a proper degree of attention." The writer abandons the first, or absolute, exclusion, and modifies it with the explanation that the day before a reported fall of stones in Tuscany, June 16, 1794, there had been an eruption of Vesuvius-- Or that stones do fall from the sky, but that they are stones that have been raised to the sky from some other part of the earth's surface by whirlwinds or by volcanic action. It's more than one hundred and twenty years later. I know of no aerolite that has ever been acceptably traced to terrestrial origin. Falling stones had to be undamned--though still with a reservation that held out for exclusion of outside forces. One may have the knowledge of a Lavoisier, and still not be able to analyze, not be able even to see, except conformably with the hypnoses, or the conventional reactions against hypnoses, of one's era. We believe no more. We accept. Little by little the whirlwind and volcano explanations had to be abandoned, but so powerful was this exclusion-hypnosis, sentence of damnation, or this attempt at positiveness, that far into our own times some scientists, notably Prof. Lawrence Smith and Sir Robert Ball, continued to hold out against all external origins, asserting that nothing could fall to this earth, unless it had been cast up or whirled up from some other part of this earth's surface. It's as commendable as anything ever has been--by which I mean it's intermediate to the commendable and the censurable. It's virginal. Meteorites, data of which were once of the damned, have been admitted, but the common impression of them is only a retreat of attempted exclusion: that only two kinds of substance fall from the sky: metallic and stony: that the metallic objects are of iron and nickel-- Butter and paper and wool and silk and resin. We see, to start with, that the virgins of science have fought and wept and screamed against external relations--upon two grounds: There in the first place; Or up from one part of this earth's surface and down to another. As late as November, 1902, in _Nature Notes_, 13-231, a member of the Selborne Society still argued that meteorites do not fall from the sky; that they are masses of iron upon the ground "in the first place," that attract lightning; that the lightning is seen, and is mistaken for a falling, luminous object-- By progress we mean rape. Butter and beef and blood and a stone with strange inscriptions upon it. 3 So then, it is our expression that Science relates to real knowledge no more than does the growth of a plant, or the organization of a department store, or the development of a nation: that all are assimilative, or organizing, or systematizing processes that represent different attempts to attain the positive state--the state commonly called heaven, I suppose I mean. There can be no real science where there are indeterminate variables, but every variable is, in finer terms, indeterminate, or irregular, if only to have the appearance of being in Intermediateness is to express regularity unattained. The invariable, or the real and stable, would be nothing at all in Intermediateness--rather as, but in relative terms, an undistorted interpretation of external sounds in the mind of a dreamer could not continue to exist in a dreaming mind, because that touch of relative realness would be of awakening and not of dreaming. Science is the attempt to awaken to realness, wherein it is attempt to find regularity and uniformity. Or the regular and uniform would be that which has nothing external to disturb it. By the universal we mean the real. Or the notion is that the underlying super-attempt, as expressed in Science, is indifferent to the subject-matter of Science: that the attempt to regularize is the vital spirit. Bugs and stars and chemical messes: that they are only quasi-real, and that of them there is nothing real to know; but that systematization of pseudo-data is approximation to realness or final awakening-- Or a dreaming mind--and its centaurs and canary birds that turn into giraffes--there could be no real biology upon such subjects, but attempt, in a dreaming mind, to systematize such appearances would be movement toward awakening--if better mental co-ordination is all that we mean by the state of being awake--relatively awake. So it is, that having attempted to systematize, by ignoring externality to the greatest possible degree, the notion of things dropping in upon this earth, from externality, is as unsettling and as unwelcome to Science as--tin horns blowing in upon a musician's relatively symmetric composition--flies alighting upon a painter's attempted harmony, and tracking colors one into another--suffragist getting up and making a political speech at a prayer meeting. If all things are of a oneness, which is a state intermediate to unrealness and realness, and if nothing has succeeded in breaking away and establishing entity for itself, and could not continue to "exist" in intermediateness, if it should succeed, any more than could the born still at the same time be the uterine, I of course know of no positive difference between Science and Christian Science--and the attitude of both toward the unwelcome is the same--"it does not exist." A Lord Kelvin and a Mrs. Eddy, and something not to their liking--it does not exist. Of course not, we Intermediates say: but, also, that, in Intermediateness, neither is there absolute non-existence. Or a Christian Scientist and a toothache--neither exists in the final sense: also neither is absolutely non-existent, and, according to our therapeutics, the one that more highly approximates to realness will win. A secret of power-- I think it's another profundity. Do you want power over something? Be more nearly real than it. We'll begin with yellow substances that have fallen upon this earth: we'll see whether our data of them have a higher approximation to realness than have the dogmas of those who deny their existence--that is, as products from somewhere external to this earth. In mere impressionism we take our stand. We have no positive tests nor standards. Realism in art: realism in science--they pass away. In 1859, the thing to do was to accept Darwinism; now many biologists are revolting and trying to conceive of something else. The thing to do was to accept it in its day, but Darwinism of course was never proved: The fittest survive. What is meant by the fittest? Not the strongest; not the cleverest-- Weakness and stupidity everywhere survive. There is no way of determining fitness except in that a thing does survive. "Fitness," then, is only another name for "survival." Darwinism: That survivors survive. Although Darwinism, then, seems positively baseless, or absolutely irrational, its massing of supposed data, and its attempted coherence approximate more highly to Organization and Consistency than did the inchoate speculations that preceded it. Or that Columbus never proved that the earth is round. Shadow of the earth on the moon? No one has ever seen it in its entirety. The earth's shadow is much larger than the moon. If the periphery of the shadow is curved--but the convex moon--a straight-edged object will cast a curved shadow upon a surface that is convex. All the other so-called proofs may be taken up in the same way. It was impossible for Columbus to prove that the earth is round. It was not required: only that with a higher seeming of positiveness than that of his opponents, he should attempt. The thing to do, in 1492, was nevertheless to accept that beyond Europe, to the west, were other lands. I offer for acceptance, as something concordant with the spirit of this first quarter of the 20th century, the expression that beyond this earth are--other lands--from which come things as, from America, float things to Europe. As to yellow substances that have fallen upon this earth, the endeavor to exclude extra-mundane origins is the dogma that all yellow rains and yellow snows are colored with pollen from this earth's pine trees. _Symons' Meteorological Magazine_ is especially prudish in this respect and regards as highly improper all advances made by other explainers. Nevertheless, the _Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1877, reports a golden-yellow fall, of Feb. 27, 1877, at Peckloh, Germany, in which four kinds of organisms, not pollen, were the coloring matter. There were minute things shaped like arrows, coffee beans, horns, and disks. They may have been symbols. They may have been objective hieroglyphics-- Mere passing fancy--let it go-- In the _Annales de Chimie_, 85-288, there is a list of rains said to have contained sulphur. I have thirty or forty other notes. I'll not use one of them. I'll admit that every one of them is upon a fall of pollen. I said, to begin with, that our methods would be the methods of theologians and scientists, and they always begin with an appearance of liberality. I grant thirty or forty points to start with. I'm as liberal as any of them--or that my liberality won't cost me anything--the enormousness of the data that we shall have. Or just to look over a typical instance of this dogma, and the way it works out: In the _American Journal of Science_, 1-42-196, we are told of a yellow substance that fell by the bucketful upon a vessel, one "windless" night in June, in Pictou Harbor, Nova Scotia. The writer analyzed the substance, and it was found to "give off nitrogen and ammonia and an animal odor." Now, one of our Intermediatist principles, to start with, is that so far from positive, in the aspect of Homogeneousness, are all substances, that, at least in what is called an elementary sense, anything can be found anywhere. Mahogany logs on the coast of Greenland; bugs of a valley on the top of Mt. Blanc; atheists at a prayer meeting; ice in India. For instance, chemical analysis can reveal that almost any dead man was poisoned with arsenic, we'll say, because there is no stomach without some iron, lead, tin, gold, arsenic in it and of it--which, of course, in a broader sense, doesn't matter much, because a certain number of persons must, as a restraining influence, be executed for murder every year; and, if detectives aren't able really to detect anything, illusion of their success is all that is necessary, and it is very honorable to give up one's life for society as a whole. The chemist who analyzed the substance of Pictou sent a sample to the Editor of the _Journal_. The Editor of course found pollen in it. My own acceptance is that there'd have to be some pollen in it: that nothing could very well fall through the air, in June, near the pine forests of Nova Scotia, and escape all floating spores of pollen. But the Editor does not say that this substance "contained" pollen. He disregards "nitrogen, ammonia, and an animal odor," and says that the substance was pollen. For the sake of our thirty or forty tokens of liberality, or pseudo-liberality, if we can't be really liberal, we grant that the chemist of the first examination probably wouldn't know an animal odor if he were janitor of a menagerie. As we go along, however, there can be no such sweeping ignoring of this phenomenon: The fall of animal-matter from the sky. I'd suggest, to start with, that we'd put ourselves in the place of deep-sea fishes: How would they account for the fall of animal-matter from above? They wouldn't try-- Or it's easy enough to think of most of us as deep-sea fishes of a kind. _Jour. Franklin Inst._, 90-11: That, upon the 14th of February, 1870, there fell, at Genoa, Italy, according to Director Boccardo, of the Technical Institute of Genoa, and Prof. Castellani, a yellow substance. But the microscope revealed numerous globules of cobalt blue, also corpuscles of a pearly color that resembled starch. See _Nature_, 2-166. _Comptes Rendus_, 56-972: M. Bouis says of a substance, reddish varying to yellowish, that fell enormously and successively, or upon April 30, May 1 and May 2, in France and Spain, that it carbonized and spread the odor of charred animal matter--that it was not pollen--that in alcohol it left a residue of resinous matter. Hundreds of thousands of tons of this matter must have fallen. "Odor of charred animal matter." Or an aerial battle that occurred in inter-planetary space several hundred years ago--effect of time in making diverse remains uniform in appearance-- It's all very absurd because, even though we are told of a prodigious quantity of animal matter that fell from the sky--three days--France and Spain--we're not ready yet: that's all. M. Bouis says that this substance was not pollen; the vastness of the fall makes acceptable that it was not pollen; still, the resinous residue does suggest pollen of pine trees. We shall hear a great deal of a substance with a resinous residue that has fallen from the sky: finally we shall divorce it from all suggestion of pollen. _Blackwood's Magazine_, 3-338: A yellow powder that fell at Gerace, Calabria, March 14, 1813. Some of this substance was collected by Sig. Simenini, Professor of Chemistry, at Naples. It had an earthy, insipid taste, and is described as "unctuous." When heated, this matter turned brown, then black, then red. According to the _Annals of Philosophy_, 11-466, one of the components was a greenish-yellow substance, which, when dried, was found to be resinous. But concomitants of this fall: Loud noises were heard in the sky. Stones fell from the sky. According to Chladni, these concomitants occurred, and to me they seem--rather brutal?--or not associable with something so soft and gentle as a fall of pollen? * * * * * Black rains and black snows--rains as black as a deluge of ink--jet-black snowflakes. Such a rain as that which fell in Ireland, May 14, 1849, described in the _Annals of Scientific Discovery_, 1850, and the _Annual Register_, 1849. It fell upon a district of 400 square miles, and was the color of ink, and of a fetid odor and very disagreeable taste. The rain at Castlecommon, Ireland, April 30, 1887--"thick, black rain." (_Amer. Met. Jour._, 4-193.) A black rain fell in Ireland, Oct. 8 and 9, 1907. (_Symons' Met. Mag._ 43-2.) "It left a most peculiar and disagreeable smell in the air." The orthodox explanation of this rain occurs in _Nature_, March 2, 1908--cloud of soot that had come from South Wales, crossing the Irish Channel and all of Ireland. So the black rain of Ireland, of March, 1898: ascribed in _Symons' Met. Mag._ 33-40, to clouds of soot from the manufacturing towns of North England and South Scotland. Our Intermediatist principle of pseudo-logic, or our principle of Continuity is, of course, that nothing is unique, or individual: that all phenomena merge away into all other phenomena: that, for instance--suppose there should be vast celestial super-oceanic, or inter-planetary vessels that come near this earth and discharge volumes of smoke at times. We're only supposing such a thing as that now, because, conventionally, we are beginning modestly and tentatively. But if it were so, there would necessarily be some phenomenon upon this earth, with which that phenomenon would merge. Extra-mundane smoke and smoke from cities merge, or both would manifest in black precipitations in rain. In Continuity, it is impossible to distinguish phenomena at their merging-points, so we look for them at their extremes. Impossible to distinguish between animal and vegetable in some infusoria--but hippopotamus and violet. For all practical purposes they're distinguishable enough. No one but a Barnum or a Bailey would send one a bunch of hippopotami as a token of regard. So away from the great manufacturing centers: Black rain in Switzerland, Jan. 20, 1911. Switzerland is so remote, and so ill at ease is the conventional explanation here, that _Nature_, 85-451, says of this rain that in certain conditions of weather, snow may take on an appearance of blackness that is quite deceptive. May be so. Or at night, if dark enough, snow may look black. This is simply denying that a black rain fell in Switzerland, Jan. 20, 1911. Extreme remoteness from great manufacturing centers: _La Nature_, 1888, 2-406: That Aug. 14, 1888, there fell at the Cape of Good Hope, a rain so black as to be described as a "shower of ink." Continuity dogs us. Continuity rules us and pulls us back. We seemed to have a little hope that by the method of extremes we could get away from things that merge indistinguishably into other things. We find that every departure from one merger is entrance upon another. At the Cape of Good Hope, vast volumes of smoke from great manufacturing centers, as an explanation, cannot very acceptably merge with the explanation of extra-mundane origin--but smoke from a terrestrial volcano can, and that is the suggestion that is made in _La Nature_. There is, in human intellection, no real standard to judge by, but our acceptance, for the present, is that the more nearly positive will prevail. By the more nearly positive we mean the more nearly Organized. Everything merges away into everything else, but proportionately to its complexity, if unified, a thing seems strong, real, and distinct: so, in aesthetics, it is recognized that diversity in unity is higher beauty, or approximation to Beauty, than is simpler unity; so the logicians feel that agreement of diverse data constitute greater convincingness, or strength, than that of mere parallel instances: so to Herbert Spencer the more highly differentiated and integrated is the more fully evolved. Our opponents hold out for mundane origin of all black rains. Our method will be the presenting of diverse phenomena in agreement with the notion of some other origin. We take up not only black rains but black rains and their accompanying phenomena. A correspondent to _Knowledge_, 5-190, writes of a black rain that fell in the Clyde Valley, March 1, 1884: of another black rain that fell two days later. According to the correspondent, a black rain had fallen in the Clyde Valley, March 20, 1828: then again March 22, 1828. According to _Nature_, 9-43, a black rain fell at Marlsford, England, Sept. 4, 1873; more than twenty-four hours later another black rain fell in the same small town. The black rains of Slains: According to Rev. James Rust (_Scottish Showers_): A black rain at Slains, Jan. 14, 1862--another at Carluke, 140 miles from Slains, May 1, 1862--at Slains, May 20, 1862--Slains, Oct. 28, 1863. But after two of these showers, vast quantities of a substance described sometimes as "pumice stone," but sometimes as "slag," were washed upon the sea coast near Slains. A chemist's opinion is given that this substance was slag: that it was not a volcanic product: slag from smelting works. We now have, for black rains, a concomitant that is irreconcilable with origin from factory chimneys. Whatever it may have been the quantity of this substance was so enormous that, in Mr. Rust's opinion, to have produced so much of it would have required the united output of all the smelting works in the world. If slag it were, we accept that an artificial product has, in enormous quantities, fallen from the sky. If you don't think that such occurrences are damned by Science, read _Scottish Showers_ and see how impossible it was for the author to have this matter taken up by the scientific world. The first and second rains corresponded, in time, with ordinary ebullitions of Vesuvius. The third and fourth, according to Mr. Rust, corresponded with no known volcanic activities upon this earth. _La Science Pour Tous_, 11-26: That, between October, 1863, and January, 1866, four more black rains fell at Slains, Scotland. The writer of this supplementary account tells us, with a better, or more unscrupulous, orthodoxy than Mr. Rust's, that of the eight black rains, five coincided with eruptions of Vesuvius and three with eruptions of Etna. The fate of all explanation is to close one door only to have another fly wide open. I should say that my own notions upon this subject will be considered irrational, but at least my gregariousness is satisfied in associating here with the preposterous--or this writer, and those who think in his rut, have to say that they can think of four discharges from one far-distant volcano, passing over a great part of Europe, precipitating nowhere else, discharging precisely over one small northern parish-- But also of three other discharges, from another far-distant volcano, showing the same precise preference, if not marksmanship, for one small parish in Scotland. Nor would orthodoxy be any better off in thinking of exploding meteorites and their débris: preciseness and recurrence would be just as difficult to explain. My own notion is of an island near an oceanic trade-route: it might receive débris from passing vessels seven times in four years. Other concomitants of black rains: In Timb's _Year Book_, 1851-270, there is an account of "a sort of rumbling, as of wagons, heard for upward of an hour without ceasing," July 16, 1850, Bulwick Rectory, Northampton, England. On the 19th, a black rain fell. In _Nature_, 30-6, a correspondent writes of an intense darkness at Preston, England, April 26, 1884: page 32, another correspondent writes of black rain at Crowle, near Worcester, April 26: that a week later, or May 3, it had fallen again: another account of black rain, upon the 28th of April, near Church Shetton, so intense that the following day brooks were still dyed with it. According to four accounts by correspondents to _Nature_ there were earthquakes in England at this time. Or the black rain of Canada, Nov. 9, 1819. This time it is orthodoxy to attribute the black precipitate to smoke of forest fires south of the Ohio River-- Zurcher, _Meteors_, p. 238: That this black rain was accompanied by "shocks like those of an earthquake." _Edinburgh Philosophical Journal_, 2-381: That the earthquake had occurred at the climax of intense darkness and the fall of black rain. * * * * * Red rains. Orthodoxy: Sand blown by the sirocco, from the Sahara to Europe. Especially in the earthquake regions of Europe, there have been many falls of red substance, usually, but not always, precipitated in rain. Upon many occasions, these substances have been "absolutely identified" as sand from the Sahara. When I first took this matter up, I came across assurance after assurance, so positive to this effect, that, had I not been an Intermediatist, I'd have looked no further. Samples collected from a rain at Genoa--samples of sand forwarded from the Sahara--"absolute agreement" some writers said: same color, same particles of quartz, even the same shells of diatoms mixed in. Then the chemical analyses: not a disagreement worth mentioning. Our intermediatist means of expression will be that, with proper exclusions, after the scientific or theological method, anything can be identified with anything else, if all things are only different expressions of an underlying oneness. To many minds there's rest and there's satisfaction in that expression "absolutely identified." Absoluteness, or the illusion of it--the universal quest. If chemists have identified substances that have fallen in Europe as sand from African deserts, swept up in African whirlwinds, that's assuasive to all the irritations that occur to those cloistered minds that must repose in the concept of a snug, isolated, little world, free from contact with cosmic wickednesses, safe from stellar guile, undisturbed by inter-planetary prowlings and invasions. The only trouble is that a chemist's analysis, which seems so final and authoritative to some minds, is no more nearly absolute than is identification by a child or description by an imbecile-- I take some of that back: I accept that the approximation is higher-- But that it's based upon delusion, because there is no definiteness, no homogeneity, no stability, only different stages somewhere between them and indefiniteness, heterogeneity, and instability. There are no chemical elements. It seems acceptable that Ramsay and others have settled that. The chemical elements are only another disappointment in the quest for the positive, as the definite, the homogeneous, and the stable. If there were real elements, there could be a real science of chemistry. Upon Nov. 12 and 13, 1902, occurred the greatest fall of matter in the history of Australia. Upon the 14th of November, it "rained mud," in Tasmania. It was of course attributed to Australian whirlwinds, but, according to the _Monthly Weather Review_, 32-365, there was a haze all the way to the Philippines, also as far as Hong Kong. It may be that this phenomenon had no especial relation with the even more tremendous fall of matter that occurred in Europe, February, 1903. For several days, the south of England was a dumping ground--from somewhere. If you'd like to have a chemist's opinion, even though it's only a chemist's opinion, see the report of the meeting of the Royal Chemical Society, April 2, 1903. Mr. E.G. Clayton read a paper upon some of the substance that had fallen from the sky, collected by him. The Sahara explanation applies mostly to falls that occur in southern Europe. Farther away, the conventionalists are a little uneasy: for instance, the editor of the _Monthly Weather Review_, 29-121, says of a red rain that fell near the coast of Newfoundland, early in 1890: "It would be very remarkable if this was Sahara dust." Mr. Clayton said that the matter examined by him was "merely wind-borne dust from the roads and lanes of Wessex." This opinion is typical of all scientific opinion--or theological opinion--or feminine opinion--all very well except for what it disregards. The most charitable thing I can think of--because I think it gives us a broader tone to relieve our malices with occasional charities--is that Mr. Clayton had not heard of the astonishing extent of this fall--had covered the Canary Islands, on the 19th, for instance. I think, myself, that in 1903, we passed through the remains of a powdered world--left over from an ancient inter-planetary dispute, brooding in space like a red resentment ever since. Or, like every other opinion, the notion of dust from Wessex turns into a provincial thing when we look it over. To think is to conceive incompletely, because all thought relates only to the local. We metaphysicians, of course, like to have the notion that we think of the unthinkable. As to opinions, or pronouncements, I should say, because they always have such an authoritative air, of other chemists, there is an analysis in _Nature_, 68-54, giving water and organic matter at 9.08 per cent. It's that carrying out of fractions that's so convincing. The substance is identified as sand from the Sahara. The vastness of this fall. In _Nature_, 68-65, we are told that it had occurred in Ireland, too. The Sahara, of course--because, prior to February 19, there had been dust storms in the Sahara--disregarding that in that great region there's always, in some part of it, a dust storm. However, just at present, it does look reasonable that dust had come from Africa, via the Canaries. The great difficulty that authoritativeness has to contend with is some other authoritativeness. When an infallibility clashes with a pontification-- They explain. _Nature_, March 5, 1903: Another analysis--36 per cent organic matter. Such disagreements don't look very well, so, in _Nature_, 68-109, one of the differing chemists explains. He says that his analysis was of muddy rain, and the other was of sediment of rain-- We're quite ready to accept excuses from the most high, though I do wonder whether we're quite so damned as we were, if we find ourselves in a gracious and tolerant mood toward the powers that condemn--but the tax that now comes upon our good manners and unwillingness to be too severe-- _Nature_, 68-223: Another chemist. He says it was 23.49 per cent water and organic matter. He "identifies" this matter as sand from an African desert--but after deducting organic matter-- But you and I could be "identified" as sand from an African desert, after deducting all there is to us except sand-- Why we cannot accept that this fall was of sand from the Sahara, omitting the obvious objection that in most parts the Sahara is not red at all, but is usually described as "dazzling white"-- The enormousness of it: that a whirlwind might have carried it, but that, in that case it would be no supposititious, or doubtfully identified whirlwind, but the greatest atmospheric cataclysm in the history of this earth: _Jour. Roy. Met. Soc._, 30-56: That, up to the 27th of February, this fall had continued in Belgium, Holland, Germany and Austria; that in some instances it was not sand, or that almost all the matter was organic: that a vessel had reported the fall as occurring in the Atlantic Ocean, midway between Southampton and the Barbados. The calculation is given that, in England alone, 10,000,000 tons of matter had fallen. It had fallen in Switzerland (_Symons' Met. Mag._, March, 1903). It had fallen in Russia (_Bull. Com. Geolog._, 22-48). Not only had a vast quantity of matter fallen several months before, in Australia, but it was at this time falling in Australia (_Victorian Naturalist_, June, 1903)--enormously--red mud--fifty tons per square mile. The Wessex explanation-- Or that every explanation is a Wessex explanation: by that I mean an attempt to interpret the enormous in terms of the minute--but that nothing can be finally explained, because by Truth we mean the Universal; and that even if we could think as wide as Universality, that would not be requital to the cosmic quest--which is not for Truth, but for the local that is true--not to universalize the local, but to localize the universal--or to give to a cosmic cloud absolute interpretation in terms of the little dusty roads and lanes of Wessex. I cannot conceive that this can be done: I think of high approximation. Our Intermediatist concept is that, because of the continuity of all "things," which are not separate, positive, or real things, all pseudo-things partake of the underlying, or are only different expressions, degrees, or aspects of the underlying: so then that a sample from somewhere in anything must correspond with a sample from somewhere in anything else. That, by due care in selection, and disregard for everything else, or the scientific and theological method, the substance that fell, February, 1903, could be identified with anything, or with some part or aspect of anything that could be conceived of-- With sand from the Sahara, sand from a barrel of sugar, or dust of your great-great-grandfather. Different samples are described and listed in the _Journal of the Royal Meteorological Society_, 30-57--or we'll see whether my notion that a chemist could have identified some one of these samples as from anywhere conceivable, is extreme or not: "Similar to brick dust," in one place; "buff or light brown," in another place; "chocolate-colored and silky to the touch and slightly iridescent"; "gray"; "red-rust color"; "reddish raindrops and gray sand"; "dirty gray"; "quite red"; "yellow-brown, with a tinge of pink"; "deep yellow-clay color." In _Nature_, it is described as of a peculiar yellowish cast in one place, reddish somewhere else, and salmon-colored in another place. Or there could be real science if there were really anything to be scientific about. Or the science of chemistry is like a science of sociology, prejudiced in advance, because only to see is to see with a prejudice, setting out to "prove" that all inhabitants of New York came from Africa. Very easy matter. Samples from one part of town. Disregard for all the rest. There is no science but Wessex-science. According to our acceptance, there should be no other, but that approximation should be higher: that metaphysics is super-evil: that the scientific spirit is of the cosmic quest. Our notion is that, in a real existence, such a quasi-system of fables as the science of chemistry could not deceive for a moment: but that in an "existence" endeavoring to become real, it represents that endeavor, and will continue to impose its pseudo-positiveness until it be driven out by a higher approximation to realness: That the science of chemistry is as impositive as fortune-telling-- Or no-- That, though it represents a higher approximation to realness than does alchemy, for instance, and so drove out alchemy, it is still only somewhere between myth and positiveness. The attempt at realness, or to state a real and unmodified fact here, is the statement: All red rains are colored by sands from the Sahara Desert. My own impositivist acceptances are: That some red rains are colored by sands from the Sahara Desert; Some by sands from other terrestrial sources; Some by sands from other worlds, or from their deserts--also from aerial regions too indefinite or amorphous to be thought of as "worlds" or planets-- That no supposititious whirlwind can account for the hundreds of millions of tons of matter that fell upon Australia, Pacific Ocean and Atlantic Ocean and Europe in 1902 and 1903--that a whirlwind that could do that would not be supposititious. But now we shall cast off some of our own wessicality by accepting that there have been falls of red substance other than sand. We regard every science as an expression of the attempt to be real. But to be real is to localize the universal--or to make some one thing as wide as all things--successful accomplishment of which I cannot conceive of. The prime resistance to this endeavor is the refusal of the rest of the universe to be damned, excluded, disregarded, to receive Christian Science treatment, by something else so attempting. Although all phenomena are striving for the Absolute--or have surrendered to and have incorporated themselves in higher attempts, simply to be phenomenal, or to have seeming in Intermediateness is to express relations. A river. It is water expressing the gravitational relation of different levels. The water of the river. Expression of chemic relations of hydrogen and oxygen--which are not final. A city. Manifestation of commercial and social relations. How could a mountain be without base in a greater body? Storekeeper live without customers? The prime resistance to the positivist attempt by Science is its relations with other phenomena, or that it only expresses those relations in the first place. Or that a Science can have seeming, or survive in Intermediateness, as something pure, isolated, positively different, no more than could a river or a city or a mountain or a store. This Intermediateness-wide attempt by parts to be wholes--which cannot be realized in our quasi-state, if we accept that in it the co-existence of two or more wholes or universals is impossible--high approximation to which, however, may be thinkable-- Scientists and their dream of "pure science." Artists and their dream of "art for art's sake." It is our notion that if they could almost realize, that would be almost realness: that they would instantly be translated into real existence. Such thinkers are good positivists, but they are evil in an economic and sociologic sense, if, in that sense, nothing has justification for being, unless it serve, or function for, or express the relations of, some higher aggregate. So Science functions for and serves society at large, and would, from society at large, receive no support, unless it did so divert itself or dissipate and prostitute itself. It seems that by prostitution I mean usefulness. There have been red rains that, in the middle ages, were called "rains of blood." Such rains terrified many persons, and were so unsettling to large populations, that Science, in its sociologic relations, has sought, by Mrs. Eddy's method, to remove an evil-- That "rains of blood" do not exist; That rains so called are only of water colored by sand from the Sahara Desert. My own acceptance is that such assurances, whether fictitious or not, whether the Sahara is a "dazzling white" desert or not, have wrought such good effects, in a sociologic sense, even though prostitutional in the positivist sense, that, in the sociologic sense, they were well justified: But that we've gone on: that this is the twentieth century; that most of us have grown up so that such soporifics of the past are no longer necessary: That if gushes of blood should fall from the sky upon New York City, business would go on as usual. We began with rains that we accepted ourselves were, most likely, only of sand. In my own still immature hereticalness--and by heresy, or progress, I mean, very largely, a return, though with many modifications, to the superstitions of the past, I think I feel considerable aloofness to the idea of rains of blood. Just at present, it is my conservative, or timid purpose, to express only that there have been red rains that very strongly suggest blood or finely divided animal matter-- Débris from inter-planetary disasters. Aerial battles. Food-supplies from cargoes of super-vessels, wrecked in inter-planetary traffic. There was a red rain in the Mediterranean region, March 6, 1888. Twelve days later, it fell again. Whatever this substance may have been, when burned, the odor of animal matter from it was strong and persistent. (_L'Astronomie_, 1888-205.) But--infinite heterogeneity--or débris from many different kinds of aerial cargoes--there have been red rains that have been colored by neither sand nor animal matter. _Annals of Philosophy_, 16-226: That, Nov. 2, 1819--week before the black rain and earthquake of Canada--there fell, at Blankenberge, Holland, a red rain. As to sand, two chemists of Bruges concentrated 144 ounces of the rain to 4 ounces--"no precipitate fell." But the color was so marked that had there been sand, it would have been deposited, if the substance had been diluted instead of concentrated. Experiments were made, and various reagents did cast precipitates, but other than sand. The chemists concluded that the rain-water contained muriate of cobalt--which is not very enlightening: that could be said of many substances carried in vessels upon the Atlantic Ocean. Whatever it may have been, in the _Annales de Chimie_, 2-12-432, its color is said to have been red-violet. For various chemic reactions, see _Quar. Jour. Roy. Inst._, 9-202, and _Edin. Phil. Jour._, 2-381. Something that fell with dust said to have been meteoric, March 9, 10, 11, 1872: described in the _Chemical News_, 25-300, as a "peculiar substance," consisted of red iron ocher, carbonate of lime, and organic matter. Orange-red hail, March 14, 1873, in Tuscany. (Notes and Queries 9-5-16.) Rain of lavender-colored substance, at Oudon, France, Dec. 19, 1903. (_Bull. Soc. Met. de France_, 1904-124.) _La Nature_, 1885-2-351: That, according to Prof. Schwedoff, there fell, in Russia, June 14, 1880, red hailstones, also blue hailstones, also gray hailstones. _Nature_, 34-123: A correspondent writes that he had been told by a resident of a small town in Venezuela, that there, April 17, 1886, had fallen hailstones, some red, some blue, some whitish: informant said to have been one unlikely ever to have heard of the Russian phenomenon; described as an "honest, plain countryman." _Nature_, July 5, 1877, quotes a Roman correspondent to the London _Times_ who sent a translation from an Italian newspaper: that a red rain had fallen in Italy, June 23, 1877, containing "microscopically small particles of sand." Or, according to our acceptance, any other story would have been an evil thing, in the sociologic sense, in Italy, in 1877. But the English correspondent, from a land where terrifying red rains are uncommon, does not feel this necessity. He writes: "I am by no means satisfied that the rain was of sand and water." His observations are that drops of this rain left stains "such as sandy water could not leave." He notes that when the water evaporated, no sand was left behind. _L'Année Scientifique_, 1888-75: That, Dec. 13, 1887, there fell, in Cochin China, a substance like blood, somewhat coagulated. _Annales de Chimie_, 85-266: That a thick, viscous, red matter fell at Ulm, in 1812. We now have a datum with a factor that has been foreshadowed; which will recur and recur and recur throughout this book. It is a factor that makes for speculation so revolutionary that it will have to be reinforced many times before we can take it into full acceptance. _Year Book of Facts_, 1861-273: Quotation from a letter from Prof. Campini to Prof. Matteucci: That, upon Dec. 28, 1860, at about 7 A.M., in the northwestern part of Siena, a reddish rain fell copiously for two hours. A second red shower fell at 11 o'clock. Three days later, the red rain fell again. The next day another red rain fell. Still more extraordinarily: Each fall occurred in "exactly the same quarter of town." 4 It is in the records of the French Academy that, upon March 17, 1669, in the town of Châtillon-sur-Seine, fell a reddish substance that was "thick, viscous, and putrid." _American Journal of Science_, 1-41-404: Story of a highly unpleasant substance that had fallen from the sky, in Wilson County, Tennessee. We read that Dr. Troost visited the place and investigated. Later we're going to investigate some investigations--but never mind that now. Dr. Troost reported that the substance was clear blood and portions of flesh scattered upon tobacco fields. He argued that a whirlwind might have taken an animal up from one place, mauled it around, and have precipitated its remains somewhere else. But, in volume 44, page 216, of the _Journal_, there is an apology. The whole matter is, upon newspaper authority, said to have been a hoax by Negroes, who had pretended to have seen the shower, for the sake of practicing upon the credulity of their masters: that they had scattered the decaying flesh of a dead hog over the tobacco fields. If we don't accept this datum, at least we see the sociologically necessary determination to have all falls accredited to earthly origins--even when they're falls that don't fall. _Annual Register_, 1821-687: That, upon the 13th of August, 1819, something had fallen from the sky at Amherst, Mass. It had been examined and described by Prof. Graves, formerly lecturer at Dartmouth College. It was an object that had upon it a nap, similar to that of milled cloth. Upon removing this nap, a buff-colored, pulpy substance was found. It had an offensive odor, and, upon exposure to the air, turned to a vivid red. This thing was said to have fallen with a brilliant light. Also see the _Edinburgh Philosophical Journal_, 5-295. In the _Annales de Chimie_, 1821-67, M. Arago accepts the datum, and gives four instances of similar objects or substances said to have fallen from the sky, two of which we shall have with our data of gelatinous, or viscous matter, and two of which I omit, because it seems to me that the dates given are too far back. In the _American Journal of Science_, 1-2-335, is Professor Graves' account, communicated by Professor Dewey: That, upon the evening of August 13, 1819, a light was seen in Amherst--a falling object--sound as if of an explosion. In the home of Prof. Dewey, this light was reflected upon a wall of a room in which were several members of Prof. Dewey's family. The next morning, in Prof. Dewey's front yard, in what is said to have been the only position from which the light that had been seen in the room, the night before, could have been reflected, was found a substance "unlike anything before observed by anyone who saw it." It was a bowl-shaped object, about 8 inches in diameter, and one inch thick. Bright buff-colored, and having upon it a "fine nap." Upon removing this covering, a buff-colored, pulpy substance of the consistency of soft-soap, was found--"of an offensive, suffocating smell." A few minutes of exposure to the air changed the buff color to "a livid color resembling venous blood." It absorbed moisture quickly from the air and liquefied. For some of the chemic reactions, see the _Journal_. There's another lost quasi-soul of a datum that seems to me to belong here: London _Times_, April 19, 1836: Fall of fish that had occurred in the neighborhood of Allahabad, India. It is said that the fish were of the chalwa species, about a span in length and a seer in weight--you know. They were dead and dry. Or they had been such a long time out of water that we can't accept that they had been scooped out of a pond, by a whirlwind--even though they were so definitely identified as of a known local species-- Or they were not fish at all. I incline, myself, to the acceptance that they were not fish, but slender, fish-shaped objects of the same substance as that which fell at Amherst--it is said that, whatever they were, they could not be eaten: that "in the pan, they turned to blood." For details of this story see the _Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal_, 1834-307. May 16 or 17, 1834, is the date given in the _Journal_. In the _American Journal of Science_, 1-25-362, occurs the inevitable damnation of the Amherst object: Prof. Edward Hitchcock went to live in Amherst. He says that years later, another object, like the one said to have fallen in 1819, had been found at "nearly the same place." Prof. Hitchcock was invited by Prof. Graves to examine it. Exactly like the first one. Corresponded in size and color and consistency. The chemic reactions were the same. Prof. Hitchcock recognized it in a moment. It was a gelatinous fungus. He did not satisfy himself as to just the exact species it belonged to, but he predicted that similar fungi might spring up within twenty-four hours-- But, before evening, two others sprang up. Or we've arrived at one of the oldest of the exclusionists' conventions--or nostoc. We shall have many data of gelatinous substance said to have fallen from the sky: almost always the exclusionists argue that it was only nostoc, an Alga, or, in some respects, a fungous growth. The rival convention is "spawn of frogs or of fishes." These two conventions have made a strong combination. In instances where testimony was not convincing that gelatinous matter had been seen to fall, it was said that the gelatinous substance was nostoc, and had been upon the ground in the first place: when the testimony was too good that it had fallen, it was said to be spawn that had been carried from one place to another in a whirlwind. Now, I can't say that nostoc is always greenish, any more than I can say that blackbirds are always black, having seen a white one: we shall quote a scientist who knew of flesh-colored nostoc, when so to know was convenient. When we come to reported falls of gelatinous substances, I'd like it to be noticed how often they are described as whitish or grayish. In looking up the subject, myself, I have read only of greenish nostoc. Said to be greenish, in Webster's Dictionary--said to be "blue-green" in the New International Encyclopedia--"from bright green to olive-green" (_Science Gossip_, 10-114); "green" (_Science Gossip_, 7-260); "greenish" (_Notes and Queries_, 1-11-219). It would seem acceptable that, if many reports of white birds should occur, the birds are not blackbirds, even though there have been white blackbirds. Or that, if often reported, grayish or whitish gelatinous substance is not nostoc, and is not spawn if occurring in times unseasonable for spawn. "The Kentucky Phenomenon." So it was called, in its day, and now we have an occurrence that attracted a great deal of attention in its own time. Usually these things of the accursed have been hushed up or disregarded--suppressed like the seven black rains of Slains--but, upon March 3, 1876, something occurred, in Bath County, Kentucky, that brought many newspaper correspondents to the scene. The substance that looked like beef that fell from the sky. Upon March 3, 1876, at Olympian Springs, Bath County, Kentucky, flakes of a substance that looked like beef fell from the sky--"from a clear sky." We'd like to emphasize that it was said that nothing but this falling substance was visible in the sky. It fell in flakes of various sizes; some two inches square, one, three or four inches square. The flake-formation is interesting: later we shall think of it as signifying pressure--somewhere. It was a thick shower, on the ground, on trees, on fences, but it was narrowly localized: or upon a strip of land about 100 yards long and about 50 yards wide. For the first account, see the _Scientific American_, 34-197, and the _New York Times_, March 10, 1876. Then the exclusionists. Something that looked like beef: one flake of it the size of a square envelope. If we think of how hard the exclusionists have fought to reject the coming of ordinary-looking dust from this earth's externality, we can sympathize with them in this sensational instance, perhaps. Newspaper correspondents wrote broadcast and witnesses were quoted, and this time there is no mention of a hoax, and, except by one scientist, there is no denial that the fall did take place. It seems to me that the exclusionists are still more emphatically conservators. It is not so much that they are inimical to all data of externally derived substances that fall upon this earth, as that they are inimical to all data discordant with a system that does not include such phenomena-- Or the spirit or hope or ambition of the cosmos, which we call attempted positivism: not to find out the new; not to add to what is called knowledge, but to systematize. _Scientific American Supplement_, 2-426: That the substance reported from Kentucky had been examined by Leopold Brandeis. "At last we have a proper explanation of this much talked of phenomenon." "It has been comparatively easy to identify the substance and to fix its status. The Kentucky 'wonder' is no more or less than nostoc." Or that it had not fallen; that it had been upon the ground in the first place, and had swollen in rain, and, attracting attention by greatly increased volume, had been supposed by unscientific observers to have fallen in rain-- What rain, I don't know. Also it is spoken of as "dried" several times. That's one of the most important of the details. But the relief of outraged propriety, expressed in the _Supplement_, is amusing to some of us, who, I fear, may be a little improper at times. Very spirit of the Salvation Army, when some third-rate scientist comes out with an explanation of the vermiform appendix or the os coccygis that would have been acceptable to Moses. To give completeness to "the proper explanation," it is said that Mr. Brandeis had identified the substance as "flesh-colored" nostoc. Prof. Lawrence Smith, of Kentucky, one of the most resolute of the exclusionists: _New York Times_, March 12, 1876: That the substance had been examined and analyzed by Prof. Smith, according to whom it gave every indication of being the "dried" spawn of some reptile, "doubtless of the frog"--or up from one place and down in another. As to "dried," that may refer to condition when Prof. Smith received it. In the _Scientific American Supplement_, 2-473, Dr. A. Mead Edwards, President of the Newark Scientific Association, writes that, when he saw Mr. Brandeis' communication, his feeling was of conviction that propriety had been re-established, or that the problem had been solved, as he expresses it: knowing Mr. Brandeis well, he had called upon that upholder of respectability, to see the substance that had been identified as nostoc. But he had also called upon Dr. Hamilton, who had a specimen, and Dr. Hamilton had declared it to be lung-tissue. Dr. Edwards writes of the substance that had so completely, or beautifully--if beauty is completeness--been identified as nostoc--"It turned out to be lung-tissue also." He wrote to other persons who had specimens, and identified other specimens as masses of cartilage or muscular fibers. "As to whence it came, I have no theory." Nevertheless he endorses the local explanation--and a bizarre thing it is: A flock of gorged, heavy-weighted buzzards, but far up and invisible in the clear sky-- They had disgorged. Prof. Fassig lists the substance, in his "Bibliography," as fish spawn. McAtee (_Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1918) lists it as a jelly-like material, supposed to have been the "dried" spawn either of fishes or of some batrachian. Or this is why, against the seemingly insuperable odds against all things new, there can be what is called progress-- That nothing is positive, in the aspects of homogeneity and unity: If the whole world should seem to combine against you, it is only unreal combination, or intermediateness to unity and disunity. Every resistance is itself divided into parts resisting one another. The simplest strategy seems to be--never bother to fight a thing: set its own parts fighting one another. We are merging away from carnal to gelatinous substance, and here there is an abundance of instances or reports of instances. These data are so improper they're obscene to the science of today, but we shall see that science, before it became so rigorous, was not so prudish. Chladni was not, and Greg was not. I shall have to accept, myself, that gelatinous substance has often fallen from the sky-- Or that, far up, or far away, the whole sky is gelatinous? That meteors tear through and detach fragments? That fragments are brought down by storms? That the twinkling of stars is penetration of light through something that quivers? I think, myself, that it would be absurd to say that the whole sky is gelatinous: it seems more acceptable that only certain areas are. Humboldt (_Cosmos_, 1-119) says that all our data in this respect must be "classed amongst the mythical fables of mythology." He is very sure, but just a little redundant. We shall be opposed by the standard resistances: There in the first place; Up from one place, in a whirlwind, and down in another. We shall not bother to be very convincing one way or another, because of the over-shadowing of the datum with which we shall end up. It will mean that something had been in a stationary position for several days over a small part of a small town in England: this is the revolutionary thing that we have alluded to before; whether the substance were nostoc, or spawn, or some kind of a larval nexus, doesn't matter so much. If it stood in the sky for several days, we rank with Moses as a chronicler of improprieties--or was that story, or datum, we mean, told by Moses? Then we shall have so many records of gelatinous substance said to have fallen with meteorites, that, between the two phenomena, some of us will have to accept connection--or that there are at least vast gelatinous areas aloft, and that meteorites tear through, carrying down some of the substance. _Comptes Rendus_, 3-554: That, in 1836, M. Vallot, member of the French Academy, placed before the Academy some fragments of a gelatinous substance, said to have fallen from the sky, and asked that they be analyzed. There is no further allusion to this subject. _Comptes Rendus_, 23-542: That, in Wilna, Lithuania, April 4, 1846, in a rainstorm, fell nut-sized masses of a substance that is described as both resinous and gelatinous. It was odorless until burned: then it spread a very pronounced sweetish odor. It is described as like gelatine, but much firmer: but, having been in water 24 hours, it swelled out, and looked altogether gelatinous-- It was grayish. We are told that, in 1841 and 1846, a similar substance had fallen in Asia Minor. In _Notes and Queries_, 8-6-190, it is said that, early in August, 1894, thousands of jellyfish, about the size of a shilling, had fallen at Bath, England. I think it is not acceptable that they were jellyfish: but it does look as if this time frog spawn did fall from the sky, and may have been translated by a whirlwind--because, at the same time, small frogs fell at Wigan, England. _Nature_, 87-10: That, June 24, 1911, at Eton, Bucks, England, the ground was found covered with masses of jelly, the size of peas, after a heavy rainfall. We are not told of nostoc, this time: it is said that the object contained numerous eggs of "some species of Chironomus, from which larvae soon emerged." I incline, then, to think that the objects that fell at Bath were neither jellyfish nor masses of frog spawn, but something of a larval kind-- This is what had occurred at Bath, England, 23 years before. London _Times_, April 24, 1871: That, upon the 22nd of April, 1871, a storm of glutinous drops neither jellyfish nor masses of frog spawn, but something of a [line missing here in original text. Ed.] railroad station, at Bath. "Many soon developed into a worm-like chrysalis, about an inch in length." The account of this occurrence in the _Zoologist_, 2-6-2686, is more like the Eton-datum: of minute forms, said to have been infusoria; not forms about an inch in length. _Trans. Ent. Soc. of London_, 1871-proc. xxii: That the phenomenon has been investigated by the Rev. L. Jenyns, of Bath. His description is of minute worms in filmy envelopes. He tries to account for their segregation. The mystery of it is: What could have brought so many of them together? Many other falls we shall have record of, and in most of them segregation is the great mystery. A whirlwind seems anything but a segregative force. Segregation of things that have fallen from the sky has been avoided as most deep-dyed of the damned. Mr. Jenyns conceives of a large pool, in which were many of these spherical masses: of the pool drying up and concentrating all in a small area; of a whirlwind then scooping all up together-- But several days later, more of these objects fell in the same place. That such marksmanship is not attributable to whirlwinds seems to me to be what we think we mean by common sense: It may not look like common sense to say that these things had been stationary over the town of Bath, several days-- The seven black rains of Slains; The four red rains of Siena. An interesting sidelight on the mechanics of orthodoxy is that Mr. Jenyns dutifully records the second fall, but ignores it in his explanation. R.P. Greg, one of the most notable of cataloguers of meteoritic phenomena, records (_Phil. Mag._: 4-8-463) falls of viscid substance in the years 1652, 1686, 1718, 1796, 1811, 1819, 1844. He gives earlier dates, but I practice exclusions, myself. In the _Report of the British Association_, 1860-63, Greg records a meteor that seemed to pass near the ground, between Barsdorf and Freiburg, Germany: the next day a jelly-like mass was found in the snow-- Unseasonableness for either spawn or nostoc. Greg's comment in this instance is: "Curious if true." But he records without modification the fall of a meteorite at Gotha, Germany, Sept. 6, 1835, "leaving a jelly-like mass on the ground." We are told that this substance fell only three feet away from an observer. In the _Report of the British Association_, 1855-94, according to a letter from Greg to Prof. Baden-Powell, at night, Oct. 8, 1844, near Coblenz, a German, who was known to Greg, and another person saw a luminous body fall close to them. They returned next morning and found a gelatinous mass of grayish color. According to Chladni's account (_Annals of Philosophy_, n.s., 12-94) a viscous mass fell with a luminous meteorite between Siena and Rome, May, 1652; viscous matter found after the fall of a fire ball, in Lusatia, March, 1796; fall of a gelatinous substance, after the explosion of a meteorite, near Heidelberg, July, 1811. In the _Edinburgh Philosophical Journal_, 1-234, the substance that fell at Lusatia is said to have been of the "color and odor of dried, brown varnish." In the _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-26-133, it is said that gelatinous matter fell with a globe of fire, upon the island of Lethy, India, 1718. In the _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-26-396, in many observations upon the meteors of November, 1833, are reports of falls of gelatinous substance: That, according to newspaper reports, "lumps of jelly" were found on the ground at Rahway, N.J. The substance was whitish, or resembled the coagulated white of an egg: That Mr. H.H. Garland, of Nelson County, Virginia, had found a jelly-like substance of about the circumference of a twenty-five-cent piece: That, according to a communication from A.C. Twining to Prof. Olmstead, a woman at West Point, N.Y., had seen a mass the size of a teacup. It looked like boiled starch: That, according to a newspaper, of Newark, N.J., a mass of gelatinous substance, like soft soap, had been found. "It possessed little elasticity, and, on the application of heat, it evaporated as readily as water." It seems incredible that a scientist would have such hardihood, or infidelity, as to accept that these things had fallen from the sky: nevertheless, Prof. Olmstead, who collected these lost souls, says: "The fact that the supposed deposits were so uniformly described as gelatinous substance forms a presumption in favor of the supposition that they had the origin ascribed to them." In contemporaneous scientific publications considerable attention was given to Prof. Olmstead's series of papers upon this subject of the November meteors. You will not find one mention of the part that treats of gelatinous matter. 5 I shall attempt not much of correlation of dates. A mathematic-minded positivist, with his delusion that in an intermediate state twice two are four, whereas, if we accept Continuity, we cannot accept that there are anywhere two things to start with, would search our data for periodicities. It is so obvious to me that the mathematic, or the regular, is the attribute of the Universal, that I have not much inclination to look for it in the local. Still, in this solar system, "as a whole," there is considerable approximation to regularity; or the mathematic is so nearly localized that eclipses, for instance, can, with rather high approximation, be foretold, though I have notes that would deflate a little the astronomers' vainglory in this respect--or would if that were possible. An astronomer is poorly paid, uncheered by crowds, considerably isolated: he lives upon his own inflations: deflate a bear and it couldn't hibernate. This solar system is like every other phenomenon that can be regarded "as a whole"--or the affairs of a ward are interfered with by the affairs of the city of which it is a part; city by county; county by state; state by nation; nation by other nations; all nations by climatic conditions; climatic conditions by solar circumstances; sun by general planetary circumstances; solar system "as a whole" by other solar systems--so the hopelessness of finding the phenomena of entirety in the ward of a city. But positivists are those who try to find the unrelated in the ward of a city. In our acceptance this is the spirit of cosmic religion. Objectively the state is not realizable in the ward of a city. But, if a positivist could bring himself to absolute belief that he had found it, that would be a subjective realization of that which is unrealizable objectively. Of course we do not draw a positive line between the objective and the subjective--or that all phenomena called things or persons are subjective within one all-inclusive nexus, and that thoughts within those that are commonly called "persons" are sub-subjective. It is rather as if Intermediateness strove for Regularity in this solar system and failed: then generated the mentality of astronomers, and, in that secondary expression, strove for conviction that failure had been success. I have tabulated all the data of this book, and a great deal besides--card system--and several proximities, thus emphasized, have been revelations to me: nevertheless, it is only the method of theologians and scientists--worst of all, of statisticians. For instance, by the statistic method, I could "prove" that a black rain has fallen "regularly" every seven months, somewhere upon this earth. To do this, I'd have to include red rains and yellow rains, but, conventionally, I'd pick out the black particles in red substances and in yellow substances, and disregard the rest. Then, too, if here and there a black rain should be a week early or a month late--that would be "acceleration" or "retardation." This is supposed to be legitimate in working out the periodicities of comets. If black rains, or red or yellow rains with black particles in them, should not appear at all near some dates--we have not read Darwin in vain--"the records are not complete." As to other, interfering black rains, they'd be either gray or brown, or for them we'd find other periodicities. Still, I have had to notice the year 1819, for instance. I shall not note them all in this book, but I have records of 31 extraordinary events in 1883. Someone should write a book upon the phenomena of this one year--that is, if books should be written. 1849 is notable for extraordinary falls, so far apart that a local explanation seems inadequate--not only the black rain of Ireland, May, 1849, but a red rain in Sicily and a red rain in Wales. Also, it is said (Timb's _Year Book_, 1850-241) that, upon April 18 or 20, 1849, shepherds near Mt. Ararat, found a substance that was not indigenous, upon areas measuring 8 to 10 miles in circumference. Presumably it had fallen there. We have already gone into the subject of Science and its attempted positiveness, and its resistances in that it must have relations of service. It is very easy to see that most of the theoretic science of the 19th century was only a relation of reaction against theologic dogma, and has no more to do with Truth than has a wave that bounds back from a shore. Or, if a shop girl, or you or I, should pull out a piece of chewing gum about a yard long, that would be quite as scientific a performance as was the stretching of this earth's age several hundred millions of years. All "things" are not things, but only relations, or expressions of relations: but all relations are striving to be the unrelated, or have surrendered to, and subordinated to, higher attempts. So there is a positivist aspect to this reaction that is itself only a relation, and that is the attempt to assimilate all phenomena under the materialist explanation, or to formulate a final, all-inclusive system, upon the materialist basis. If this attempt could be realized, that would be the attaining of realness; but this attempt can be made only by disregarding psychic phenomena, for instance--or, if science shall eventually give in to the psychic, it would be no more legitimate to explain the immaterial in terms of the material than to explain the material in terms of the immaterial. Our own acceptance is that material and immaterial are of a oneness, merging, for instance, in a thought that is continuous with a physical action: that oneness cannot be explained, because the process of explaining is the interpreting of something in terms of something else. All explanation is assimilation of something in terms of something else that has been taken as a basis: but, in Continuity, there is nothing that is any more basic than anything else--unless we think that delusion built upon delusion is less real than its pseudo-foundation. In 1829 (Timb's _Year Book_, 1848-235) in Persia fell a substance that the people said they had never seen before. As to what it was, they had not a notion, but they saw that the sheep ate it. They ground it into flour and made bread, said to have been passable enough, though insipid. That was a chance that science did not neglect. Manna was placed upon a reasonable basis, or was assimilated and reconciled with the system that had ousted the older--and less nearly real--system. It was said that, likely enough, manna had fallen in ancient times--because it was still falling--but that there was no tutelary influence behind it--that it was a lichen from the steppes of Asia Minor--from one place in a whirlwind and down in another place. "In the _American Almanac_, 1833-71, it is said that this substance--to the inhabitants of the region"--was "immediately recognized" by scientists who examined it: and that "the chemical analysis also identified it as a lichen." This was back in the days when Chemical Analysis was a god. Since then his devotees have been shocked and disillusioned. Just how a chemical analysis could so botanize, I don't know--but it was Chemical Analysis who spoke, and spoke dogmatically. It seems to me that the ignorance of inhabitants, contrasting with the local knowledge of foreign scientists, is overdone: if there's anything good to eat, within any distance conveniently covered by a whirlwind--inhabitants know it. I have data of other falls, in Persia and Asiatic Turkey, of edible substances. They are all dogmatically said to be "manna"; and "manna" is dogmatically said to be a species of lichens from the steppes of Asia Minor. The position that I take is that this explanation was evolved in ignorance of the fall of vegetable substances, or edible substances, in other parts of the world: that it is the familiar attempt to explain the general in terms of the local; that, if we shall have data of falls of vegetable substance, in, say, Canada or India, they were not of lichens from the steppes of Asia Minor; that, though all falls in Asiatic Turkey and Persia are sweepingly and conveniently called showers of "manna," they have not been even all of the same substance. In one instance the particles are said to have been "seeds." Though, in _Comptes Rendus_, the substance that fell in 1841 and 1846 is said to have been gelatinous, in the _Bull. Sci. Nat. de Neuchatel_, it is said to have been of something, in lumps the size of a filbert, that had been ground into flour; that of this flour had been made bread, very attractive-looking, but flavorless. The great difficulty is to explain segregation in these showers-- But deep-sea fishes and occasional falls, down to them, of edible substances; bags of grain, barrels of sugar; things that had not been whirled up from one part of the ocean-bottom, in storms or submarine disturbances, and dropped somewhere else-- I suppose one thinks--but grain in bags never has fallen-- Object of Amherst--its covering like "milled cloth"-- Or barrels of corn lost from a vessel would not sink--but a host of them clashing together, after a wreck--they burst open; the corn sinks, or does when saturated; the barrel staves float longer-- If there be not an overhead traffic in commodities similar to our own commodities carried over this earth's oceans--I'm not the deep-sea fish I think I am. I have no data other than the mere suggestion of the Amherst object of bags or barrels, but my notion is that bags and barrels from a wreck on one of this earth's oceans, would, by the time they reached the bottom, no longer be recognizable as bags or barrels; that, if we can have data of the fall of fibrous material that may have been cloth or paper or wood, we shall be satisfactory and grotesque enough. _Proc. Roy. Irish Acad._, 1-379: "In the year 1686, some workmen, who had been fetching water from a pond, seven German miles from Memel, on returning to their work after dinner (during which there had been a snowstorm) found the flat ground around the pond covered with a coal-black, leafy mass; and a person who lived near said he had seen it fall like flakes with the snow." Some of these flake-like formations were as large as a table-top. "The mass was damp and smelt disagreeably, like rotten seaweed, but, when dried, the smell went off." "It tore fibrously, like paper." Classic explanation: "Up from one place, and down in another." But what went up, from one place, in a whirlwind? Of course, our Intermediatist acceptance is that had this been the strangest substance conceivable, from the strangest other world that could be thought of; somewhere upon this earth there must be a substance similar to it, or from which it would, at least subjectively, or according to description, not be easily distinguishable. Or that everything in New York City is only another degree or aspect of something, or combination of things, in a village of Central Africa. The novel is a challenge to vulgarization: write something that looks new to you: someone will point out that the thrice-accursed Greeks said it long ago. Existence is Appetite: the gnaw of being; the one attempt of all things to assimilate all other things, if they have not surrendered and submitted to some higher attempt. It was cosmic that these scientists, who had surrendered to and submitted to the Scientific System, should, consistently with the principles of that system, attempt to assimilate the substance that fell at Memel with some known terrestrial product. At the meeting of the Royal Irish Academy it was brought out that there is a substance, of rather rare occurrence, that has been known to form in thin sheets upon marsh land. It looks like greenish felt. The substance of Memel: Damp, coal-black, leafy mass. But, if broken up, the marsh-substance is flake-like, and it tears fibrously. An elephant can be identified as a sunflower--both have long stems. A camel is indistinguishable from a peanut--if only their humps be considered. Trouble with this book is that we'll end up a lot of intellectual roués: we'll be incapable of being astonished with anything. We knew, to start with, that science and imbecility are continuous; nevertheless so many expressions of the merging-point are at first startling. We did think that Prof. Hitchcock's performance in identifying the Amherst phenomenon as a fungus was rather notable as scientific vaudeville, if we acquit him of the charge of seriousness--or that, in a place where fungi were so common that, before a given evening two of them sprang up, only he, a stranger in this very fungiferous place, knew a fungus when he saw something like a fungus--if we disregard its quick liquefaction, for instance. It was only a monologue, however: now we have an all-star cast: and they're not only Irish; they're royal Irish. The royal Irishmen excluded "coal-blackness" and included fibrousness: so then that this substance was "marsh paper," which "had been raised into the air by storms of wind, and had again fallen." Second act: It was said that, according to M. Ehrenberg, "the meteor-paper was found to consist partly of vegetable matter, chiefly of conifervæ." Third act: Meeting of the royal Irishmen: chairs, tables, Irishmen: Some flakes of marsh-paper were exhibited. Their composition was chiefly of conifervæ. This was a double inclusion: or it's the method of agreement that logicians make so much of. So no logician would be satisfied with identifying a peanut as a camel, because both have humps: he demands accessory agreement--that both can live a long time without water, for instance. Now, it's not so very unreasonable, at least to the free and easy vaudeville standards that, throughout this book, we are considering, to think that a green substance could be snatched up from one place in a whirlwind, and fall as a black substance somewhere else: but the royal Irishmen excluded something else, and it is a datum that was as accessible to them as it is to me: That, according to Chladni, this was no little, local deposition that was seen to occur by some indefinite person living near a pond somewhere. It was a tremendous fall from a vast sky-area. Likely enough all the marsh paper in the world could not have supplied it. At the same time, this substance was falling "in great quantities," in Norway and Pomerania. Or see Kirkwood, _Meteoric Astronomy_, p. 66: "Substance like charred paper fell in Norway and other parts of northern Europe, Jan. 31, 1686." Or a whirlwind, with a distribution as wide as that, would not acceptably, I should say, have so specialized in the rare substance called "marsh paper." There'd have been falls of fence rails, roofs of houses, parts of trees. Nothing is said of the occurrence of a tornado in northern Europe, in January, 1686. There is record only of this one substance having fallen in various places. Time went on, but the conventional determination to exclude data of all falls to this earth, except of substances of this earth, and of ordinary meteoric matter, strengthened. _Annals of Philosophy_, 16-68: The substance that fell in January, 1686, is described as "a mass of black leaves, having the appearance of burnt paper, but harder, and cohering, and brittle." "Marsh paper" is not mentioned, and there is nothing said of the "conifervæ," which seemed so convincing to the royal Irishmen. Vegetable composition is disregarded, quite as it might be by someone who might find it convenient to identify a crook-necked squash as a big fishhook. Meteorites are usually covered with a black crust, more or less scale-like. The substance of 1686 is black and scale-like. If so be convenience, "leaf-likeness" is "scale-likeness." In this attempt to assimilate with the conventional, we are told that the substance is a mineral mass: that it is like the black scales that cover meteorites. The scientist who made this "identification" was Von Grotthus. He had appealed to the god Chemical Analysis. Or the power and glory of mankind--with which we're not always so impressed--but the gods must tell us what we want them to tell us. We see again that, though nothing has identity of its own, anything can be "identified" as anything. Or there's nothing that's not reasonable, if one snoopeth not into its exclusions. But here the conflict did not end. Berzelius examined the substance. He could not find nickel in it. At that time, the presence of nickel was the "positive" test of meteoritic matter. Whereupon, with a supposititious "positive" standard of judgment against him, Von Grotthus revoked his "identification." (_Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist._, 1-3-185.) This equalization of eminences permits us to project with our own expression, which, otherwise, would be subdued into invisibility: That it's too bad that no one ever looked to see--hieroglyphics?--something written upon these sheets of paper? If we have no very great variety of substances that have fallen to this earth; if, upon this earth's surface there is infinite variety of substances detachable by whirlwinds, two falls of such a rare substance as marsh paper would be remarkable. A writer in the _Edinburgh Review_, 87-194, says that, at the time of writing, he had before him a portion of a sheet of 200 square feet, of a substance that had fallen at Carolath, Silesia, in 1839--exactly similar to cotton-felt, of which clothing might have been made. The god Microscopic Examination had spoken. The substance consisted chiefly of conifervæ. _Jour. Asiatic Soc. of Bengal_, 1847-pt. 1-193: That March 16, 1846--about the time of a fall of edible substance in Asia Minor--an olive-gray powder fell at Shanghai. Under the microscope, it was seen to be an aggregation of hairs of two kinds, black ones and rather thick white ones. They were supposed to be mineral fibers, but, when burned, they gave out "the common ammoniacal smell and smoke of burnt hair or feathers." The writer described the phenomenon as "a cloud of 3800 square miles of fibers, alkali, and sand." In a postscript, he says that other investigators, with more powerful microscopes, gave opinion that the fibers were not hairs; that the substance consisted chiefly of conifervæ. Or the pathos of it, perhaps; or the dull and uninspired, but courageous persistence of the scientific: everything seemingly found out is doomed to be subverted--by more powerful microscopes and telescopes; by more refined, precise, searching means and methods--the new pronouncements irrepressibly bobbing up; their reception always as Truth at last; always the illusion of the final; very little of the Intermediatist spirit-- That the new that has displaced the old will itself some day be displaced; that it, too, will be recognized as myth-stuff-- But that if phantoms climb, spooks of ladders are good enough for them. _Annual Register_, 1821-681: That, according to a report by M. Lainé, French Consul at Pernambuco, early in October, 1821, there was a shower of a substance resembling silk. The quantity was as tremendous as might be a whole cargo, lost somewhere between Jupiter and Mars, having drifted around perhaps for centuries, the original fabrics slowly disintegrating. In _Annales de Chimie_, 2-15-427, it is said that samples of this substance were sent to France by M. Lainé, and that they proved to have some resemblances to silky filaments which, at certain times of the year, are carried by the wind near Paris. In the _Annals of Philosophy_, n.s., 12-93, there is mention of a fibrous substance like blue silk that fell near Naumberg, March 23, 1665. According to Chladni (_Annales de Chimie_, 2-31-264), the quantity was great. He places a question mark before the date. One of the advantages of Intermediatism is that, in the oneness of quasiness, there can be no mixed metaphors. Whatever is acceptable of anything, is, in some degree or aspect, acceptable of everything. So it is quite proper to speak, for instance, of something that is as firm as a rock and that sails in a majestic march. The Irish are good monists: they have of course been laughed at for their keener perceptions. So it's a book we're writing, or it's a procession, or it's a museum, with the Chamber of Horrors rather over-emphasized. A rather horrible correlation occurs in the _Scientific American_, 1859-178. What interests us is that a correspondent saw a silky substance fall from the sky--there was an aurora borealis at the time--he attributes the substance to the aurora. Since the time of Darwin, the classic explanation has been that all silky substances that fall from the sky are spider webs. In 1832, aboard the _Beagle_, at the mouth of La Plata River, 60 miles from land, Darwin saw an enormous number of spiders, of the kind usually known as "gossamer" spiders, little aeronauts that cast out filaments by which the wind carries them. It's difficult to express that silky substances that have fallen to this earth were not spider webs. My own acceptance is that spider webs are the merger; that there have been falls of an externally derived silky substance, and also of the webs, or strands, rather, of aeronautic spiders indigenous to this earth; that in some instances it is impossible to distinguish one from the other. Of course, our expression upon silky substances will merge away into expressions upon other seeming textile substances, and I don't know how much better off we'll be-- Except that, if fabricable materials have fallen from the sky-- Simply to establish acceptance of that may be doing well enough in this book of first and tentative explorations. In _All the Year Round_, 8-254, is described a fall that took place in England, Sept. 21, 1741, in the towns of Bradly, Selborne, and Alresford, and in a triangular space included by these three towns. The substance is described as "cobwebs"--but it fell in flake-formation, or in "flakes or rags about one inch broad and five or six inches long." Also these flakes were of a relatively heavy substance--"they fell with some velocity." The quantity was great--the shortest side of the triangular space is eight miles long. In the _Wernerian Nat. Hist. Soc. Trans._, 5-386, it is said that there were two falls--that they were some hours apart--a datum that is becoming familiar to us--a datum that cannot be taken into the fold, unless we find it repeated over and over and over again. It is said that the second fall lasted from nine o'clock in the morning until night. Now the hypnosis of the classic--that what we call intelligence is only an expression of inequilibrium; that when mental adjustments are made, intelligence ceases--or, of course, that intelligence is the confession of ignorance. If you have intelligence upon any subject, that is something you're still learning--if we agree that that which is learned is always mechanically done--in quasi-terms, of course, because nothing is ever finally learned. It was decided that this substance was spiders' web. That was adjustment. But it's not adjustment to me; so I'm afraid I shall have some intelligence in this matter. If I ever arrive at adjustment upon this subject, then, upon this subject, I shall be able to have no thoughts, except routine-thoughts. I haven't yet quite decided absolutely everything, so I am able to point out: That this substance was of quantity so enormous that it attracted wide attention when it came down-- That it would have been equally noteworthy when it went up-- That there is no record of anyone, in England or elsewhere, having seen tons of "spider webs" going up, September, 1741. Further confession of intelligence upon my part: That, if it be contested, then, that the place of origin may have been far away, but still terrestrial-- Then it's that other familiar matter of incredible "marksmanship" again--hitting a small, triangular space for hours--interval of hours--then from nine in the morning until night: same small triangular space. These are the disregards of the classic explanation. There is no mention of spiders having been seen to fall, but a good inclusion is that, though this substance fell in good-sized flakes of considerable weight, it was viscous. In this respect it was like cobwebs: dogs nosing it on grass, were blindfolded with it. This circumstance does strongly suggest cobwebs-- Unless we can accept that, in regions aloft, there are vast viscous or gelatinous areas, and that things passing through become daubed. Or perhaps we clear up the confusion in the descriptions of the substance that fell in 1841 and 1846, in Asia Minor, described in one publication as gelatinous, and in another as a cereal--that it was a cereal that had passed through a gelatinous region. That the paper-like substance of Memel may have had such an experience may be indicated in that Ehrenberg found in it gelatinous matter, which he called "nostoc." (_Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist._, 1-3-185.) _Scientific American_, 45-337: Fall of a substance described as "cobwebs," latter part of October, 1881, in Milwaukee, Wis., and other towns: other towns mentioned are Green Bay, Vesburge, Fort Howard, Sheboygan, and Ozaukee. The aeronautic spiders are known as "gossamer" spiders, because of the extreme lightness of the filaments that they cast out to the wind. Of the substance that fell in Wisconsin, it is said: "In all instances the webs were strong in texture and very white." The Editor says: "Curiously enough, there is no mention in any of the reports that we have seen, of the presence of spiders." So our attempt to divorce a possible external product from its terrestrial merger: then our joy of the prospector who thinks he's found something: The _Monthly Weather Review_, 26-566, quotes the _Montgomery_ (Ala.) _Advertiser_: That, upon Nov. 21, 1898, numerous batches of spider-web-like substance fell in Montgomery, in strands and in occasional masses several inches long and several inches broad. According to the writer, it was not spiders' web, but something like asbestos; also that it was phosphorescent. The Editor of the _Review_ says that he sees no reason for doubting that these masses were cobwebs. _La Nature_, 1883-342: A correspondent writes that he sends a sample of a substance said to have fallen at Montussan (Gironde), Oct. 16, 1883. According to a witness, quoted by the correspondent, a thick cloud, accompanied by rain and a violent wind, had appeared. This cloud was composed of a woolly substance in lumps the size of a fist, which fell to the ground. The Editor (Tissandier) says of this substance that it was white, but was something that had been burned. It was fibrous. M. Tissandier astonishes us by saying that he cannot identify this substance. We thought that anything could be "identified" as anything. He can say only that the cloud in question must have been an extraordinary conglomeration. _Annual Register, 1832-447:_ That, March, 1832, there fell, in the fields of Kourianof, Russia, a combustible yellowish substance, covering, at least two inches thick, an area of 600 or 700 square feet. It was resinous and yellowish: so one inclines to the conventional explanation that it was pollen from pine trees--but, when torn, it had the tenacity of cotton. When placed in water, it had the consistency of resin. "This resin had the color of amber, was elastic, like India rubber, and smelled like prepared oil mixed with wax." So in general our notion of cargoes--and our notion of cargoes of food supplies: In _Philosophical Transactions_, 19-224, is an extract from a letter by Mr. Robert Vans, of Kilkenny, Ireland, dated Nov. 15, 1695: that there had been "of late," in the counties of Limerick and Tipperary, showers of a sort of matter like butter or grease... having "a very stinking smell." There follows an extract from a letter by the Bishop of Cloyne, upon "a very odd phenomenon," which was observed in Munster and Leinster: that for a good part of the spring of 1695 there fell a substance which the country people called "butter"--"soft, clammy, and of a dark yellow"--that cattle fed "indifferently" in fields where this substance lay. "It fell in lumps as big as the end of one's finger." It had a "strong ill scent." His Grace calls it a "stinking dew." In Mr. Vans' letter, it is said that the "butter" was supposed to have medicinal properties, and "was gathered in pots and other vessels by some of the inhabitants of this place." And: In all the following volumes of _Philosophical Transactions_ there is no speculation upon this extraordinary subject. Ostracism. The fate of this datum is a good instance of damnation, not by denial, and not by explaining away, but by simple disregard. The fall is listed by Chladni, and is mentioned in other catalogues, but, from the absence of all inquiry, and of all but formal mention, we see that it has been under excommunication as much as was ever anything by the preceding system. The datum has been buried alive. It is as irreconcilable with the modern system of dogmas as ever were geologic strata and vermiform appendix with the preceding system-- If, intermittently, or "for a good part of the spring," this substance fell in two Irish provinces, and nowhere else, we have, stronger than before, a sense of a stationary region overhead, or a region that receives products like this earth's products, but from external sources, a region in which this earth's gravitational and meteorological forces are relatively inert--if for many weeks a good part of this substance did hover before finally falling. We suppose that, in 1685, Mr. Vans and the Bishop of Cloyne could describe what they saw as well as could witnesses in 1885: nevertheless, it is going far back; we shall have to have many modern instances before we can accept. As to other falls, or another fall, it is said in the _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-28-361, that, April 11, 1832--about a month after the fall of the substance of Kourianof--fell a substance that was wine-yellow, transparent, soft, and smelling like rancid oil. M. Herman, a chemist who examined it, named it "sky oil." For analysis and chemic reactions, see the _Journal_. The _Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal_, 13-368, mentions an "unctuous" substance that fell near Rotterdam, in 1832. In _Comptes Rendus_, 13-215, there is an account of an oily, reddish matter that fell at Genoa, February, 1841. Whatever it may have been-- Altogether, most of our difficulties are problems that we should leave to later developers of super-geography, I think. A discoverer of America should leave Long Island to someone else. If there be, plying back and forth from Jupiter and Mars and Venus, super-constructions that are sometimes wrecked, we think of fuel as well as cargoes. Of course the most convincing data would be of coal falling from the sky: nevertheless, one does suspect that oil-burning engines were discovered ages ago in more advanced worlds--but, as I say, we should leave something to our disciples--so we'll not especially wonder whether these butter-like or oily substances were food or fuel. So we merely note that in the _Scientific American_, 24-323, is an account of hail that fell, in the middle of April, 1871, in Mississippi, in which was a substance described as turpentine. Something that tasted like orange water, in hailstones, about the first of June, 1842, near Nîmes, France; identified as nitric acid (_Jour. de Pharmacie_, 1845-273). Hail and ashes, in Ireland, 1755 (_Sci. Amer._, 5-168). That, at Elizabeth, N.J., June 9, 1874, fell hail in which was a substance, said, by Prof. Leeds, of Stevens Institute, to be carbonate of soda (_Sci. Amer._, 30-262). We are getting a little away from the lines of our composition, but it will be an important point later that so many extraordinary falls have occurred with hail. Or--if they were of substances that had had origin upon some other part of this earth's surface--had the hail, too, that origin? Our acceptance here will depend upon the number of instances. Reasonably enough, some of the things that fall to this earth should coincide with falls of hail. As to vegetable substances in quantities so great as to suggest lost cargoes, we have a note in the _Intellectual Observer_, 3-468: that, upon the first of May, 1863, a rain fell at Perpignan, "bringing down with it a red substance, which proved on examination to be a red meal mixed with fine sand." At various points along the Mediterranean, this substance fell. There is, in _Philosophical Transactions_, 16-281, an account of a seeming cereal, said to have fallen in Wiltshire, in 1686--said that some of the "wheat" fell "enclosed in hailstones"--but the writer in _Transactions_, says that he had examined the grains, and that they were nothing but seeds of ivy berries dislodged from holes and chinks where birds had hidden them. If birds still hide ivy seeds, and if winds still blow, I don't see why the phenomenon has not repeated in more than two hundred years since. Or the red matter in rain, at Siena, Italy, May, 1830; said, by Arago, to have been vegetable matter (Arago, _OEuvres_, 12-468). Somebody should collect data of falls at Siena alone. In the _Monthly Weather Review_, 29-465, a correspondent writes that, upon Feb. 16, 1901, at Pawpaw, Michigan, upon a day that was so calm that his windmill did not run, fell a brown dust that looked like vegetable matter. The Editor of the _Review_ concludes that this was no widespread fall from a tornado, because it had been reported from nowhere else. Rancidness--putridity--decomposition--a note that has been struck many times. In a positive sense, of course, nothing means anything, or every meaning is continuous with all other meanings: or that all evidences of guilt, for instance, are just as good evidences of innocence--but this condition seems to mean--things lying around among the stars a long time. Horrible disaster in the time of Julius Caesar; remains from it not reaching this earth till the time of the Bishop of Cloyne: we leave to later research the discussion of bacterial action and decomposition, and whether bacteria could survive in what we call space, of which we know nothing-- _Chemical News_, 35-183: Dr. A.T. Machattie, F.C.S., writes that, at London, Ontario, Feb. 24, 1868, in a violent storm, fell, with snow, a dark-colored substance, estimated at 500 tons, over a belt 50 miles by 10 miles. It was examined under a microscope, by Dr. Machattie, who found it to consist mainly of vegetable matter "far advanced in decomposition." The substance was examined by Dr. James Adams, of Glasgow, who gave his opinion that it was the remains of cereals. Dr. Machattie points out that for months before this fall the ground of Canada had been frozen, so that in this case a more than ordinarily remote origin has to be thought of. Dr. Machattie thinks of origin to the south. "However," he says, "this is mere conjecture." _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1841-40: That, March 24, 1840--during a thunderstorm--at Rajkit, India, occurred a fall of grain. It was reported by Col. Sykes, of the British Association. The natives were greatly excited--because it was grain of a kind unknown to them. Usually comes forward a scientist who knows more of the things that natives know best than the natives know--but it so happens that the usual thing was not done definitely in this instance: "The grain was shown to some botanists, who did not immediately recognize it, but thought it to be either a spartium or a vicia." 6 Lead, silver, diamonds, glass. They sound like the accursed, but they're not: they're now of the chosen--that is, when they occur in metallic or stony masses that Science has recognized as meteorites. We find that resistance is to substances not so mixed in or incorporated. Of accursed data, it seems to me that punk is pretty damnable. In the _Report of the British Association_, 1878-376, there is mention of a light chocolate-brown substance that has fallen with meteorites. No particulars given; not another mention anywhere else that I can find. In this English publication, the word "punk" is not used; the substance is called "amadou." I suppose, if the datum has anywhere been admitted to French publications, the word "amadou" has been avoided, and "punk" used. Or oneness of allness: scientific works and social registers: a Goldstein who can't get in as Goldstein, gets in as Jackson. The fall of sulphur from the sky has been especially repulsive to the modern orthodoxy--largely because of its associations with the superstitions or principles of the preceding orthodoxy--stories of devils: sulphurous exhalations. Several writers have said that they have had this feeling. So the scientific reactionists, who have rabidly fought the preceding, because it was the preceding: and the scientific prudes, who, in sheer exclusionism, have held lean hands over pale eyes, denying falls of sulphur. I have many notes upon the sulphurous odor of meteorites, and many notes upon phosphorescence of things that come from externality. Some day I shall look over old stories of demons that have appeared sulphurously upon this earth, with the idea of expressing that we have often had undesirable visitors from other worlds; or that an indication of external derivation is sulphurousness. I expect some day to rationalize demonology, but just at present we are scarcely far enough advanced to go so far back. For a circumstantial account of a mass of burning sulphur, about the size of a man's fist, that fell at Pultusk, Poland, Jan. 30, 1868, upon a road, where it was stamped out by a crowd of villagers, see _Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1874-272. The power of the exclusionists lies in that in their stand are combined both modern and archaic systematists. Falls of sandstone and limestone are repulsive to both theologians and scientists. Sandstone and limestone suggest other worlds upon which occur processes like geological processes; but limestone, as a fossiliferous substance, is of course especially of the unchosen. In _Science_, March 9, 1888, we read of a block of limestone, said to have fallen near Middleburg, Florida. It was exhibited at the Sub-tropical Exposition, at Jacksonville. The writer, in _Science_, denies that it fell from the sky. His reasoning is: There is no limestone in the sky; Therefore this limestone did not fall from the sky. Better reasoning I cannot conceive of--because we see that a final major premise--universal--true--would include all things: that, then, would leave nothing to reason about--so then that all reasoning must be based upon "something" not universal, or only a phantom intermediate to the two finalities of nothingness and allness, or negativeness and positiveness. _La Nature_, 1890-2-127: Fall, at Pel-et-Der (L'Aube), France, June 6, 1890, of limestone pebbles. Identified with limestone at Château-Landon--or up and down in a whirlwind. But they fell with hail--which, in June, could not very well be identified with ice from Château-Landon. Coincidence, perhaps. Upon page 70, _Science Gossip_, 1887, the Editor says, of a stone that was reported to have fallen at Little Lever, England, that a sample had been sent to him. It was sandstone. Therefore it had not fallen, but had been on the ground in the first place. But, upon page 140, _Science Gossip_, 1887, is an account of "a large, smooth, water-worn, gritty sandstone pebble" that had been found in the wood of a full-grown beech tree. Looks to me as if it had fallen red-hot, and had penetrated the tree with high velocity. But I have never heard of anything falling red-hot from a whirlwind-- The wood around this sandstone pebble was black, as if charred. Dr. Farrington, for instance, in his books, does not even mention sandstone. However, the British Association, though reluctant, is less exclusive: _Report_ of 1860, p. 197: substance about the size of a duck's egg, that fell at Raphoe, Ireland, June 9, 1860--date questioned. It is not definitely said that this substance was sandstone, but that it "resembled" friable sandstone. Falls of salt have occurred often. They have been avoided by scientific writers, because of the dictum that only water and not substances held in solution, can be raised by evaporation. However, falls of salty water have received attention from Dalton and others, and have been attributed to whirlwinds from the sea. This is so reasonably contested--quasi-reasonably--as to places not far from the sea-- But the fall of salt that occurred high in the mountains of Switzerland-- We could have predicted that that datum could be found somewhere. Let anything be explained in local terms of the coast of England--but also has it occurred high in the mountains of Switzerland. Large crystals of salt fell--in a hailstorm--Aug. 20, 1870, in Switzerland. The orthodox explanation is a crime: whoever made it, should have had his finger-prints taken. We are told (_An. Rec. Sci._, 1872) that these objects of salt "came over the Mediterranean from some part of Africa." Or the hypnosis of the conventional--provided it be glib. One reads such an assertion, and provided it be suave and brief and conventional, one seldom questions--or thinks "very strange" and then forgets. One has an impression from geography lessons: Mediterranean not more than three inches wide, on the map; Switzerland only a few more inches away. These sizable masses of salt are described in the _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 3-3-239, as "essentially imperfect cubic crystals of common salt." As to occurrence with hail--that can in one, or ten, or twenty, instances be called a coincidence. Another datum: extraordinary year 1883: London _Times_, Dec. 25, 1883: Translation from a Turkish newspaper; a substance that fell at Scutari, Dec. 2, 1883; described as an unknown substance, in particles--or flakes?--like snow. "It was found to be saltish to the taste, and to dissolve readily in water." Miscellaneous: "Black, capillary matter" that fell, Nov. 16, 1857, at Charleston, S.C. (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 2-31-459). Fall of small, friable, vesicular masses, from size of a pea to size of a walnut, at Lobau, Jan. 18, 1835 (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1860-85). Objects that fell at Peshawur, India, June, 1893, during a storm: substance that looked like crystallized niter, and that tasted like sugar (_Nature_, July 13, 1893). I suppose sometimes deep-sea fishes have their noses bumped by cinders. If their regions be subjacent to Cunard or White Star routes, they're especially likely to be bumped. I conceive of no inquiry: they're deep-sea fishes. Or the slag of Slains. That it was a furnace-product. The Rev. James Rust seemed to feel bumped. He tried in vain to arouse inquiry. As to a report, from Chicago, April 9, 1879, that slag had fallen from the sky, Prof. E.S. Bastian (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 3-18-78) says that the slag "had been on the ground in the first place." It was furnace-slag. "A chemical examination of the specimens has shown that they possess none of the characteristics of true meteorites." Over and over and over again, the universal delusion; hope and despair of attempted positivism; that there can be real criteria, or distinct characteristics of anything. If anybody can define--not merely suppose, like Prof. Bastian, that he can define--the true characteristics of anything, or so localize trueness anywhere, he makes the discovery for which the cosmos is laboring. He will be instantly translated, like Elijah, into the Positive Absolute. My own notion is that, in a moment of super-concentration, Elijah became so nearly a real prophet that he was translated to heaven, or to the Positive Absolute, with such velocity that he left an incandescent train behind him. As we go along, we shall find the "true test of meteoritic material," which in the past has been taken as an absolute, dissolving into almost utmost nebulosity. Prof. Bastian explains mechanically, or in terms of the usual reflexes to all reports of unwelcome substances: that near where the slag had been found, telegraph wires had been struck by lightning; that particles of melted wire had been seen to fall near the slag--which had been on the ground in the first place. But, according to the _New York Times_, April 14, 1879, about two bushels of this substance had fallen. Something that was said to have fallen at Darmstadt, June 7, 1846; listed by Greg (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1867-416) as "only slag." _Philosophical Magazine_, 4-10-381: That, in 1855, a large stone was found far in the interior of a tree, in Battersea Fields. Sometimes cannon balls are found embedded in trees. Doesn't seem to be anything to discuss; doesn't seem discussable that any one would cut a hole in a tree and hide a cannon ball, which one could take to bed, and hide under one's pillow, just as easily. So with the stone of Battersea Fields. What is there to say, except that it fell with high velocity and embedded in the tree? Nevertheless, there was a great deal of discussion-- Because, at the foot of the tree, as if broken off the stone, fragments of slag were found. I have nine other instances. Slag and cinders and ashes, and you won't believe, and neither will I, that they came from the furnaces of vast aerial super-constructions. We'll see what looks acceptable. As to ashes, the difficulties are great, because we'd expect many falls of terrestrially derived ashes--volcanoes and forest fires. In some of our acceptances, I have felt a little radical-- I suppose that one of our main motives is to show that there is, in quasi-existence, nothing but the preposterous--or something intermediate to absolute preposterousness and final reasonableness--that the new is the obviously preposterous; that it becomes the established and disguisedly preposterous; that it is displaced, after a while, and is again seen to be the preposterous. Or that all progress is from the outrageous to the academic or sanctified, and back to the outrageous--modified, however, by a trend of higher and higher approximation to the impreposterous. Sometimes I feel a little more uninspired than at other times, but I think we're pretty well accustomed now to the oneness of allness; or that the methods of science in maintaining its system are as outrageous as the attempts of the damned to break in. In the _Annual Record of Science_, 1875-241, Prof. Daubrée is quoted: that ashes that had fallen in the Azores had come from the Chicago fire-- Or the damned and the saved, and there's little to choose between them; and angels are beings that have not obviously barbed tails to them--or never have such bad manners as to stroke an angel below the waist-line. However this especial outrage was challenged: the Editor of the _Record_ returns to it, in the issue of 1876: considers it "in the highest degree improper to say that the ashes of Chicago were landed in the Azores." _Bull. Soc. Astro. de France_, 22-245: Account of a white substance, like ashes, that fell at Annoy, France, March 27, 1908: simply called a curious phenomenon; no attempt to trace to a terrestrial source. Flake formations, which may signify passage through a region of pressure, are common; but spherical formations--as if of things that have rolled and rolled along planar regions somewhere--are commoner: _Nature_, Jan. 10, 1884, quotes a Kimberley newspaper: That, toward the close of November, 1883, a thick shower of ashy matter fell at Queenstown, South Africa. The matter was in marble-sized balls, which were soft and pulpy, but which, upon drying, crumbled at touch. The shower was confined to one narrow streak of land. It would be only ordinarily preposterous to attribute this substance to Krakatoa-- But, with the fall, loud noises were heard-- But I'll omit many notes upon ashes: if ashes should sift down upon deep-sea fishes, that is not to say that they came from steamships. Data of falls of cinders have been especially damned by Mr. Symons, the meteorologist, some of whose investigations we'll investigate later--nevertheless-- Notice of a fall, in Victoria, Australia, April 14, 1875 (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1875-242)--at least we are told, in the reluctant way, that someone "thought" he saw matter fall near him at night, and the next day found something that looked like cinders. In the _Proc. of the London Roy. Soc._, 19-122, there is an account of cinders that fell on the deck of a lightship, Jan. 9, 1873. In the _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 2-24-449, there is a notice that the Editor had received a specimen of cinders said to have fallen--in showery weather--upon a farm, near Ottowa, Ill., Jan. 17, 1857. But after all, ambiguous things they are, cinders or ashes or slag or clinkers, the high priest of the accursed that must speak aloud for us is--coal that has fallen from the sky. Or coke: The person who thought he saw something like cinders, also thought he saw something like coke, we are told. _Nature_, 36-119: Something that "looked exactly like coke" that fell--during a thunderstorm--in the Orne, France, April 24, 1887. Or charcoal: Dr. Angus Smith, in the _Lit. and Phil. Soc. of Manchester Memoirs_, 2-9-146, says that, about 1827--like a great deal in Lyell's _Principles_ and Darwin's _Origin_, this account is from hearsay--something fell from the sky, near Allport, England. It fell luminously, with a loud report, and scattered in a field. A fragment that was seen by Dr. Smith, is described by him as having "the appearance of a piece of common wood charcoal." Nevertheless, the reassured feeling of the faithful, upon reading this, is burdened with data of differences: the substance was so uncommonly heavy that it seemed as if it had iron in it; also there was "a sprinkling of sulphur." This material is said, by Prof. Baden-Powell, to be "totally unlike that of any other meteorite." Greg, in his catalogue (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1860-73), calls it "a more than doubtful substance"--but again, against reassurance, that is not doubt of authenticity. Greg says that it is like compact charcoal, with particles of sulphur and iron pyrites embedded. Reassurance rises again: Prof. Baden-Powell says: "It contains also charcoal, which might perhaps be acquired from matter among which it fell." This is a common reflex with the exclusionists: that substances not "truly meteoritic" did not fall from the sky, but were picked up by "truly meteoritic" things, of course only on their surfaces, by impact with this earth. Rhythm of reassurances and their declines: According to Dr. Smith, this substance was not merely coated with charcoal; his analysis gives 43.59 per cent carbon. Our acceptance that coal has fallen from the sky will be via data of resinous substances and bituminous substances, which merge so that they cannot be told apart. Resinous substance said to have fallen at Kaba, Hungary, April 15, 1887 (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1860-94). A resinous substance that fell after a fireball? at Neuhaus, Bohemia, Dec. 17, 1824 (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1860-70). Fall, July 28, 1885, at Luchon, during a storm, of a brownish substance; very friable, carbonaceous matter; when burned it gave out a resinous odor (_Comptes Rendus_, 103-837). Substance that fell, Feb. 17, 18, 19, 1841, at Genoa, Italy, said to have been resinous; said by Arago (_OEuvres_, 12-469) to have been bituminous matter and sand. Fall--during a thunderstorm--July, 1681, near Cape Cod, upon the deck of an English vessel, the _Albemarle_, of "burning, bituminous matter" (_Edin. New Phil. Jour._, 26-86); a fall, at Christiania, Norway, June 13, 1822, of bituminous matter, listed by Greg as doubtful; fall of bituminous matter, in Germany, March 8, 1798, listed by Greg. Lockyer (_The Meteoric Hypothesis_, p. 24) says that the substance that fell at the Cape of Good Hope, Oct. 13, 1838--about five cubic feet of it: substance so soft that it was cuttable with a knife--"after being experimented upon, it left a residue, which gave out a very bituminous smell." And this inclusion of Lockyer's--so far as findable in all books that I have read--is, in books, about as close as we can get to our desideratum--that coal has fallen from the sky. Dr. Farrington, except with a brief mention, ignores the whole subject of the fall of carbonaceous matter from the sky. Proctor, in all of his books that I have read--is, in books, about as close as we can get to the admission that carbonaceous matter has been found in meteorites "in very minute quantities"--or my own suspicion is that it is possible to damn something else only by losing one's own soul--quasi-soul, of course. _Sci. Amer._, 35-120: That the substance that fell at the Cape of Good Hope "resembled a piece of anthracite coal more than anything else." It's a mistake, I think: the resemblance is to bituminous coal--but it is from the periodicals that we must get our data. To the writers of books upon meteorites, it would be as wicked--by which we mean departure from the characters of an established species--quasi-established, of course--to say that coal has fallen from the sky, as would be, to something in a barnyard, a temptation that it climb a tree and catch a bird. Domestic things in a barnyard: and how wild things from forests outside seem to them. Or the homeopathist--but we shall shovel data of coal. And, if over and over, we shall learn of masses of soft coal that have fallen upon this earth, if in no instance has it been asserted that the masses did not fall, but were upon the ground in the first place; if we have many instances, this time we turn down good and hard the mechanical reflex that these masses were carried from one place to another in whirlwinds, because we find it too difficult to accept that whirlwinds could so select, or so specialize in a peculiar substance. Among writers of books, the only one I know of who makes more than brief mention is Sir Robert Ball. He represents a still more antique orthodoxy, or is an exclusionist of the old type, still holding out against even meteorites. He cites several falls of carbonaceous matter, but with disregards that make for reasonableness that earthy matter may have been caught up by whirlwinds and flung down somewhere else. If he had given a full list, he would be called upon to explain the special affinity of whirlwinds for a special kind of coal. He does not give a full list. We shall have all that's findable, and we shall see that against this disease we're writing, the homeopathist's prescription availeth not. Another exclusionist was Prof. Lawrence Smith. His psycho-tropism was to respond to all reports of carbonaceous matter falling from the sky, by saying that this damned matter had been deposited upon things of the chosen by impact with this earth. Most of our data antedate him, or were contemporaneous with him, or were as accessible to him as to us. In his attempted positivism it is simply--and beautifully--disregarded that, according to Berthelot, Berzelius, Cloez, Wohler and others these masses are not merely coated with carbonaceous matter, but are carbonaceous throughout, or are permeated throughout. How anyone could so resolutely and dogmatically and beautifully and blindly hold out would puzzle us were it not for our acceptance that only to think is to exclude and include; and to exclude some things that have as much right to come in as have the included--that to have an opinion upon any subject is to be a Lawrence Smith--because there is no definite subject. Dr. Walter Flight (_Eclectic Magazine_, 89-71) says, of the substance that fell near Alais, France, March 15, 1806, that it "emits a faint bituminous substance" when heated, according to the observations of Bergelius and a commission appointed by the French Academy. This time we have not the reluctances expressed in such words as "like" and "resembling." We are told that this substance is "an earthy kind of coal." As to "minute quantities" we are told that the substance that fell at the Cape of Good Hope has in it a little more than a quarter of organic matter, which, in alcohol, gives the familiar reaction of yellow, resinous matter. Other instances given by Dr. Flight are: Carbonaceous matter that fell in 1840, in Tennessee; Cranbourne, Australia, 1861; Montauban, France, May 14, 1864 (twenty masses, some of them as large as a human head, of a substance that "resembled a dull-colored earthy lignite"); Goalpara, India, about 1867 (about 8 per cent of a hydrocarbon); at Ornans, France, July 11, 1868; substance with "an organic, combustible ingredient," at Hessle, Sweden, Jan. 1, 1860. _Knowledge_, 4-134: That, according to M. Daubrée, the substance that had fallen in the Argentine Republic, "resembled certain kinds of lignite and boghead coal." In _Comptes Rendus_, 96-1764, it is said that this mass fell, June 30, 1880, in the province Entre Ríos, Argentina: that it is "like" brown coal; that it resembles all the other carbonaceous masses that have fallen from the sky. Something that fell at Grazac, France, Aug. 10, 1885: when burned, it gave out a bituminous odor (_Comptes Rendus_, 104-1771). Carbonaceous substance that fell at Rajpunta, India, Jan. 22, 1911: very friable: 50 per cent of its soluble in water (_Records Geol. Survey of India_, 44-pt. 1-41). A combustible carbonaceous substance that fell with sand at Naples, March 14, 1818 (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-1-309). _Sci. Amer. Sup._, 29-11798: That, June 9, 1889, a very friable substance, of a deep, greenish black, fell at Mighei, Russia. It contained 5 per cent organic matter, which, when powdered and digested in alcohol, yielded, after evaporation, a bright yellow resin. In this mass was 2 per cent of an unknown mineral. Cinders and ashes and slag and coke and charcoal and coal. And the things that sometimes deep-sea fishes are bumped by. Reluctances and the disguises or covered retreats of such words as "like" and "resemble"--or that conditions of Intermediateness forbid abrupt transitions--but that the spirit animating all Intermediateness is to achieve abrupt transitions--because, if anything could finally break away from its origin and environment, that would be a real thing--something not merging away indistinguishably with the surrounding. So all attempt to be original; all attempt to invent something that is more than mere extension or modification of the preceding, is positivism--or that if one could conceive of a device to catch flies, positively different from, or unrelated to, all other devices--up he'd shoot to heaven, or the Positive Absolute--leaving behind such an incandescent train that in one age it would be said that he had gone aloft in a fiery chariot, and in another age that he had been struck by lightning-- I'm collecting notes upon persons supposed to have been struck by lightning. I think that high approximation to positivism has often been achieved--instantaneous translation--residue of negativeness left behind, looking much like effects of a stroke of lightning. Some day I shall tell the story of the _Marie Celeste_--"properly," as the _Scientific American Supplement_ would say--mysterious disappearance of a sea captain, his family, and the crew-- Of positivists, by the route of Abrupt Transition, I think that Manet was notable--but that his approximation was held down by his intense relativity to the public--or that it is quite as impositive to flout and insult and defy as it is to crawl and placate. Of course, Manet began with continuity with Courbet and others, and then, between him and Manet there were mutual influences--but the spirit of abrupt difference is the spirit of positivism, and Manet's stand was against the dictum that all lights and shades must merge away suavely into one another and prepare for one another. So a biologist like De Vries represents positivism, or the breaking of Continuity, by trying to conceive of evolution by mutation--against the dogma of indistinguishable gradations by "minute variations." A Copernicus conceives of helio-centricity. Continuity is against him. He is not permitted to break abruptly with the past. He is permitted to publish his work, but only as "an interesting hypothesis." Continuity--and that all that we call evolution or progress is attempt to break away from it-- That our whole solar system was at one time attempt by planets to break away from a parental nexus and set up as individualities, and, failing, move in quasi-regular orbits that are expressions of relations with the sun and with one another, all having surrendered, being now quasi-incorporated in a higher approximation to system: Intermediateness in its mineralogic aspect of positivism--or Iron that strove to break away from Sulphur and Oxygen, and be real, homogeneous Iron--failing, inasmuch as elemental iron exists only in text-book chemistry: Intermediateness in its biologic aspect of positivism--or the wild, fantastic, grotesque, monstrous things it conceived of, sometimes in a frenzy of effort to break away abruptly from all preceding types--but failing, in the giraffe-effort, for instance, or only caricaturing an antelope-- All things break one relation only by the establishing of some other relation-- All things cut an umbilical cord only to clutch a breast. So the fight of the exclusionists to maintain the traditional--or to prevent abrupt transition from the quasi-established--fighting so that here, more than a century after meteorites were included, no other notable inclusion has been made, except that of cosmic dust, data of which Nordenskiold made more nearly real than data in opposition. So Proctor, for instance, fought and expressed his feeling of the preposterous, against Sir W.H. Thomson's notions of arrival upon this earth of organisms on meteorites-- "I can only regard it as a jest" (_Knowledge_, 1-302). Or that there is nothing but jest--or something intermediate to jest and tragedy: That ours is not an existence but an utterance; That Momus is imagining us for the amusement of the gods, often with such success that some of us seem almost alive--like characters in something a novelist is writing; which often to considerable degree take their affairs away from the novelist-- That Momus is imagining us and our arts and sciences and religions, and is narrating or picturing us as a satire upon the gods' real existence. Because--with many of our data of coal that has fallen from the sky as accessible then as they are now, and with the scientific pronouncement that coal is fossil, how, in a real existence, by which we mean a consistent existence, or a state in which there is real intelligence, or a form of thinking that does not indistinguishably merge away with imbecility, could there have been such a row as that which was raised about forty years ago over Dr. Hahn's announcement that he had found fossils in meteorites? Accessible to anybody at that time: _Philosophical Magazine_, 4-17-425: That the substance that fell at Kaba, Hungary, April 15, 1857, contained organic matter "analagous to fossil waxes." Or limestone: Of the block of limestone which was reported to have fallen at Middleburg, Florida, it is said (_Science_, 11-118) that, though something had been seen to fall in "an old cultivated field," the witnesses who ran to it picked up something that "had been upon the ground in the first place." The writer who tells us this, with the usual exclusion-imagination known as stupidity, but unjustly, because there is no real stupidity, thinks he can think of a good-sized stone that had for many years been in a cultivated field, but that had never been seen before--had never interfered with plowing, for instance. He is earnest and unjarred when he writes that this stone weighs 200 pounds. My own notion, founded upon my own experience in seeing, is that a block of stone weighing 500 pounds might be in one's parlor twenty years, virtually unseen--but not in an old cultivated field, where it interfered with plowing--not anywhere--if it interfered. Dr. Hahn said that he had found fossils in meteorites. There is a description of the corals, sponges, shells, and crinoids, all of them microscopic, which he photographed, in _Popular Science_, 20-83. Dr. Hahn was a well-known scientist. He was better known after that. Anybody may theorize upon other worlds and conditions upon them that are similar to our own conditions: if his notions be presented undisguisedly as fiction, or only as an "interesting hypothesis," he'll stir up no prude rages. But Dr. Hahn said definitely that he had found fossils in specified meteorites: also he published photographs of them. His book is in the New York Public Library. In the reproductions every feature of some of the little shells is plainly marked. If they're not shells, neither are things under an oyster-counter. The striations are very plain: one sees even the hinges where bivalves are joined. Prof. Lawrence Smith (_Knowledge_, 1-258): "Dr. Hahn is a kind of half-insane man, whose imagination has run away with him." Conservation of Continuity. Then Dr. Weinland examined Dr. Hahn's specimens. He gave his opinion that they are fossils and that they are not crystals of enstatite, as asserted by Prof. Smith, who had never seen them. The damnation of denial and the damnation of disregard: After the publication of Dr. Weinland's findings--silence. 7 The living things that have come down to this earth: Attempts to preserve the system: That small frogs and toads, for instance, never have fallen from the sky, but were--"on the ground, in the first place"; or that there have been such falls--"up from one place in a whirlwind, and down in another." Were there some especially froggy place near Europe, as there is an especially sandy place, the scientific explanation would of course be that all small frogs falling from the sky in Europe come from that center of frogeity. To start with, I'd like to emphasize something that I am permitted to see because I am still primitive or intelligent or in a state of maladjustment: That there is not one report findable of a fall of tadpoles from the sky. As to "there in the first place": See _Leisure Hours_, 3-779, for accounts of small frogs, or toads, said to have been seen to fall from the sky. The writer says that all observers were mistaken: that the frogs or toads must have fallen from trees or other places overhead. Tremendous number of little toads, one or two months old, that were seen to fall from a great thick cloud that appeared suddenly in a sky that had been cloudless, August, 1804, near Toulouse, France, according to a letter from Prof. Pontus to M. Arago. (_Comptes Rendus_, 3-54.) Many instances of frogs that were seen to fall from the sky. (_Notes and Queries_, 8-6-104); accounts of such falls, signed by witnesses. (_Notes and Queries_, 8-6-190.) _Scientific American_, July 12, 1873: "A shower of frogs which darkened the air and covered the ground for a long distance is the reported result of a recent rainstorm at Kansas City, Mo." As to having been there "in the first place": Little frogs found in London, after a heavy storm, July 30, 1838. (_Notes and Queries_, 8-7-437); Little toads found in a desert, after a rainfall (_Notes and Queries_, 8-8-493). To start with I do not deny--positively--the conventional explanation of "up and down." I think that there may have been such occurrences. I omit many notes that I have upon indistinguishables. In the London _Times_, July 4, 1883, there is an account of a shower of twigs and leaves and tiny toads in a storm upon the slopes of the Apennines. These may have been the ejectamenta of a whirlwind. I add, however, that I have notes upon two other falls of tiny toads, in 1883, one in France and one in Tahiti; also of fish in Scotland. But in the phenomenon of the Apennines, the mixture seems to me to be typical of the products of a whirlwind. The other instances seem to me to be typical of--something like migration? Their great numbers and their homogeneity. Over and over in these annals of the damned occurs the datum of segregation. But a whirlwind is thought of as a condition of chaos--quasi-chaos: not final negativeness, of course-- _Monthly Weather Review_, July, 1881: "A small pond in the track of the cloud was sucked dry, the water being carried over the adjoining fields together with a large quantity of soft mud, which was scattered over the ground for half a mile around." It is so easy to say that small frogs that have fallen from the sky had been scooped up by a whirlwind; but here are the circumstances of a scoop; in the exclusionist-imagination there is no regard for mud, débris from the bottom of a pond, floating vegetation, loose things from the shores--but a precise picking out of frogs only. Of all instances I have that attribute the fall of small frogs or toads to whirlwinds, only one definitely identifies or places the whirlwind. Also, as has been said before, a pond going up would be quite as interesting as frogs coming down. Whirlwinds we read of over and over--but where and what whirlwind? It seems to me that anybody who had lost a pond would be heard from. In _Symons' Meteorological Magazine_, 32-106, a fall of small frogs, near Birmingham, England, June 30, 1892, is attributed to a specific whirlwind--but not a word as to any special pond that had contributed. And something that strikes my attention here is that these frogs are described as almost white. I'm afraid there is no escape for us: we shall have to give to civilization upon this earth--some new worlds. Places with white frogs in them. Upon several occasions we have had data of unknown things that have fallen from--somewhere. But something not to be overlooked is that if living things have landed alive upon this earth--in spite of all we think we know of the accelerative velocity of falling bodies--and have propagated--why the exotic becomes the indigenous, or from the strangest of places we'd expect the familiar. Or if hosts of living frogs have come here--from somewhere else--every living thing upon this earth may, ancestrally, have come from--somewhere else. I find that I have another note upon a specific hurricane: _Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist._, 1-3-185: After one of the greatest hurricanes in the history of Ireland, some fish were found "as far as 15 yards from the edge of a lake." Have another: this is a good one for the exclusionists: Fall of fish in Paris: said that a neighboring pond had been blown dry. (_Living Age_, 52-186.) Date not given, but I have seen it recorded somewhere else. The best-known fall of fishes from the sky is that which occurred at Mountain Ash, in the Valley of Abedare, Glamorganshire, Feb. 11, 1859. The Editor of the _Zoologist_, 2-677, having published a report of a fall of fishes, writes: "I am continually receiving similar accounts of frogs and fishes." But, in all the volumes of the _Zoologist_, I can find only two reports of such falls. There is nothing to conclude other than that hosts of data have been lost because orthodoxy does not look favorably upon such reports. The _Monthly Weather Review_ records several falls of fishes in the United States; but accounts of these reported occurrences are not findable in other American publications. Nevertheless, the treatment by the _Zoologist_ of the fall reported from Mountain Ash is fair. First appears, in the issue of 1859-6493, a letter from the Rev. John Griffith, Vicar of Abedare, asserting that the fall had occurred, chiefly upon the property of Mr. Nixon, of Mountain Ash. Upon page 6540, Dr. Gray, of the British Museum, bristling with exclusionism, writes that some of these fishes, which had been sent to him alive, were "very young minnows." He says: "On reading the evidence, it seems to me most probably only a practical joke: that one of Mr. Nixon's employees had thrown a pailful of water upon another, who had thought fish in it had fallen from the sky"--had dipped up a pailful from a brook. Those fishes--still alive--were exhibited at the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park. The Editor says that one was a minnow and that the rest were sticklebacks. He says that Dr. Gray's explanation is no doubt right. But, upon page 6564, he publishes a letter from another correspondent, who apologizes for opposing "so high an authority as Dr. Gray," but says that he had obtained some of these fishes from persons who lived at a considerable distance apart, or considerably out of range of the playful pail of water. According to the _Annual Register_, 1859-14, the fishes themselves had fallen by pailfuls. If these fishes were not upon the ground in the first place, we base our objections to the whirlwind explanation upon two data: That they fell in no such distribution as one could attribute to the discharge of a whirlwind, but upon a narrow strip of land: about 80 yards long and 12 yards wide-- The other datum is again the suggestion that at first seemed so incredible, but for which support is piling up, a suggestion of a stationary source overhead-- That ten minutes later another fall of fishes occurred upon this same narrow strip of land. Even arguing that a whirlwind may stand still axially, it discharges tangentially. Wherever the fishes came from it does not seem thinkable that some could have fallen and that others could have whirled even a tenth of a minute, then falling directly after the first to fall. Because of these evil circumstances the best adaptation was to laugh the whole thing off and say that someone had soused someone else with a pailful of water in which a few "very young" minnows had been caught up. In the London _Times_, March 2, 1859, is a letter from Mr. Aaron Roberts, curate of St. Peter's, Carmathon. In this letter the fishes are said to have been about four inches long, but there is some question of species. I think, myself, that they were minnows and sticklebacks. Some persons, thinking them to be sea fishes, placed them in salt water, according to Mr. Roberts. "The effect is stated to have been almost instantaneous death." "Some were placed in fresh water. These seemed to thrive well." As to narrow distribution, we are told that the fishes fell "in and about the premises of Mr. Nixon." "It was not observed at the time that any fish fell in any other part of the neighborhood, save in the particular spot mentioned." In the London _Times_, March 10, 1859, Vicar Griffith writes an account: "The roofs of some houses were covered with them." In this letter it is said that the largest fishes were five inches long, and that these did not survive the fall. _Report of the British Association_, 1859-158: "The evidence of the fall of fish on this occasion was very conclusive. A specimen of the fish was exhibited and was found to be the _Gasterosteus leirus_." _Gasterosteus_ is the stickleback. Altogether I think we have not a sense of total perdition, when we're damned with the explanation that someone soused someone else with a pailful of water in which were thousands of fishes four or five inches long, some of which covered roofs of houses, and some of which remained ten minutes in the air. By way of contrast we offer our own acceptance: That the bottom of a super-geographical pond had dropped out. I have a great many notes upon the fall of fishes, despite the difficulty these records have in getting themselves published, but I pick out the instances that especially relate to our super-geographical acceptances, or to the Principles of Super-Geography: or data of things that have been in the air longer than acceptably could a whirlwind carry them; that have fallen with a distribution narrower than is attributable to a whirlwind; that have fallen for a considerable length of time upon the same narrow area of land. These three factors indicate, somewhere not far aloft, a region of inertness to this earth's gravitation, of course, however, a region that, by the flux and variation of all things, must at times be susceptible--but, afterward, our heresy will bifurcate-- In amiable accommodation to the crucifixion it'll get, I think-- But so impressed are we with the datum that, though there have been many reports of small frogs that have fallen from the sky, not one report upon a fall of tadpoles is findable, that to these circumstances another adjustment must be made. Apart from our three factors of indication, an extraordinary observation is the fall of living things without injury to them. The devotees of St. Isaac explain that they fall upon thick grass and so survive: but Sir James Emerson Tennant, in his _History of Ceylon_, tells of a fall of fishes upon gravel, by which they were seemingly uninjured. Something else apart from our three main interests is a phenomenon that looks like what one might call an alternating series of falls of fishes, whatever the significance may be: Meerut, India, July, 1824 (_Living Age_, 52-186); Fifeshire, Scotland, summer of 1824 (_Wernerian Nat. Hist. Soc. Trans._, 5-575); Moradabad, India, July, 1826 (_Living Age_, 52-186); Ross-shire, Scotland, 1828 (_Living Age_, 52-186); Moradabad, India, July 20, 1829 (_Lin. Soc. Trans._, 16-764); Perthshire, Scotland (_Living Age_, 52-186); Argyleshire, Scotland, 1830, March 9, 1830 (_Recreative Science_, 3-339); Feridpoor, India, Feb. 19, 1830 (_Jour. Asiatic Soc. of Bengal_, 2-650). A psycho-tropism that arises here--disregarding serial significance--or mechanical, unintelligent, repulsive reflex--is that the fishes of India did not fall from the sky; that they were found upon the ground after torrential rains, because streams had overflowed and had then receded. In the region of Inertness that we think we can conceive of, or a zone that is to this earth's gravitation very much like the neutral zone of a magnet's attraction, we accept that there are bodies of water and also clear spaces--bottoms of ponds dropping out--very interesting ponds, having no earth at bottom--vast drops of water afloat in what is called space--fishes and deluges of water falling-- But also other areas, in which fishes--however they got there: a matter that we'll consider--remain and dry, or even putrefy, then sometimes falling by atmospheric dislodgment. After a "tremendous deluge of rain, one of the heaviest falls on record" (_All the Year Round_, 8-255) at Rajkote, India, July 25, 1850, "the ground was found literally covered with fishes." The word "found" is agreeable to the repulsions of the conventionalists and their concept of an overflowing stream--but, according to Dr. Buist, some of these fishes were "found" on the tops of haystacks. Ferrel (_A Popular Treatise_, p. 414) tells of a fall of living fishes--some of them having been placed in a tank, where they survived--that occurred in India, about 20 miles south of Calcutta, Sept. 20, 1839. A witness of this fall says: "The most strange thing which ever struck me was that the fish did not fall helter-skelter, or here and there, but they fell in a straight line, not more than a cubit in breadth." See _Living Age_, 52-186. _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-32-199: That, according to testimony taken before a magistrate, a fall occurred, Feb. 19, 1830, near Feridpoor, India, of many fishes, of various sizes--some whole and fresh and others "mutilated and putrefying." Our reflex to those who would say that, in the climate of India, it would not take long for fishes to putrefy, is--that high in the air, the climate of India is not torrid. Another peculiarity of this fall is that some of the fishes were much larger than others. Or to those who hold out for segregation in a whirlwind, or that objects, say, twice as heavy as others would be separated from the lighter, we point out that some of these fishes were twice as heavy as others. In the _Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal_, 2-650, depositions of witnesses are given: "Some of the fish were fresh, but others were rotten and without heads." "Among the number which I got, five were fresh and the rest stinking and headless." They remind us of His Grace's observation of some pages back. According to Dr. Buist, some of these fishes weighed one and a half pounds each and others three pounds. A fall of fishes at Futtepoor, India, May 16, 1833: "They were all dead and dry." (Dr. Buist, _Living Age_, 52-186.) India is far away: about 1830 was long ago. _Nature_, Sept. 19, 1918-46: A correspondent writes, from the Dove Marine Laboratory, Cuttercoats, England, that, at Hindon, a suburb of Sunderland, Aug. 24, 1918, hundreds of small fishes, identified as sand eels, had fallen-- Again the small area: about 60 by 30 yards. The fall occurred during a heavy rain that was accompanied by thunder--or indications of disturbance aloft--but by no visible lightning. The sea is close to Hindon, but if you try to think of these fishes having described a trajectory in a whirlwind from the ocean, consider this remarkable datum: That, according to witnesses, the fall upon this small area occupied ten minutes. I cannot think of a clearer indication of a direct fall from a stationary source. And: "The fish were all dead, and indeed stiff and hard, when picked up, immediately after the occurrence." By all of which I mean that we have only begun to pile up our data of things that fall from a stationary source overhead: we'll have to take up the subject from many approaches before our acceptance, which seems quite as rigorously arrived at as ever has been a belief, can emerge from the accursed. I don't know how much the horse and the barn will help us to emerge: but, if ever anything did go up from this earth's surface and stay up--those damned things may have: _Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1878: In a tornado, in Wisconsin, May 23, 1878, "a barn and a horse were carried completely away, and neither horse nor barn, nor any portion of either have since been found." After that, which would be a little strong were it not for a steady improvement in our digestions that I note as we go along, there is little of the bizarre or the unassimilable in the turtle that hovered six months or so over a small town in Mississippi: _Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1894: That, May 11, 1894, at Vicksburg, Miss., fell a small piece of alabaster; that, at Bovina, eight miles from Vicksburg, fell a gopher turtle. They fell in a hailstorm. This item was widely copied at the time: for instance, _Nature_, one of the volumes of 1894, page 430, and _Jour. Roy. Met. Soc._, 20-273. As to discussion--not a word. Or Science and its continuity with Presbyterianism--data like this are damned at birth. The _Weather Review_ does sprinkle, or baptize, or attempt to save, this infant--but in all the meteorological literature that I have gone through, after that date--not a word, except mention once or twice. The Editor of the _Review_ says: "An examination of the weather map shows that these hailstorms occur on the south side of a region of cold northerly winds, and were but a small part of a series of similar storms; apparently some special local whirls or gusts carried heavy objects from this earth's surface up to the cloud regions." Of all incredibilities that we have to choose from, I give first place to a notion of a whirlwind pouncing upon a region and scrupulously selecting a turtle and a piece of alabaster. This time, the other mechanical thing "there in the first place" cannot rise in response to its stimulus: it is resisted in that these objects were coated with ice--month of May in a southern state. If a whirlwind at all, there must have been very limited selection: there is no record of the fall of other objects. But there is no attempt in the _Review_ to specify a whirlwind. These strangely associated things were remarkably separated. They fell eight miles apart. Then--as if there were real reasoning--they must have been high to fall with such divergence, or one of them must have been carried partly horizontally eight miles farther than the other. But either supposition argues for power more than that of a local whirl or gust, or argues for a great, specific disturbance, of which there is no record--for the month of May, 1894. Nevertheless--as if I really were reasonable--I do feel that I have to accept that this turtle had been raised from this earth's surface, somewhere near Vicksburg--because the gopher turtle is common in the southern states. Then I think of a hurricane that occurred in the state of Mississippi weeks or months before May 11, 1894. No--I don't look for it--and inevitably find it. Or that things can go up so high in hurricanes that they stay up indefinitely--but may, after a while, be shaken down by storms. Over and over have we noted the occurrence of strange falls in storms. So then that the turtle and the piece of alabaster may have had far different origins--from different worlds, perhaps--have entered a region of suspension over this earth--wafting near each other--long duration--final precipitation by atmospheric disturbance--with hail--or that hailstones, too, when large, are phenomena of suspension of long duration: that it is highly unacceptable that the very large ones could become so great only in falling from the clouds. Over and over has the note of disagreeableness, or of putrefaction, been struck--long duration. Other indications of long duration. I think of a region somewhere above this earth's surface in which gravitation is inoperative and is not governed by the square of the distance--quite as magnetism is negligible at a very short distance from a magnet. Theoretically the attraction of a magnet should decrease with the square of the distance, but the falling-off is found to be almost abrupt at a short distance. I think that things raised from this earth's surface to that region have been held there until shaken down by storms-- The Super-Sargasso Sea. Derelicts, rubbish, old cargoes from inter-planetary wrecks; things cast out into what is called space by convulsions of other planets, things from the times of the Alexanders, Caesars and Napoleons of Mars and Jupiter and Neptune; things raised by this earth's cyclones: horses and barns and elephants and flies and dodoes, moas, and pterodactyls; leaves from modern trees and leaves of the Carboniferous era--all, however, tending to disintegrate into homogeneous-looking muds or dusts, red or black or yellow--treasure-troves for the palaeontologists and for the archaeologists--accumulations of centuries--cyclones of Egypt, Greece, and Assyria--fishes dried and hard, there a short time: others there long enough to putrefy-- But the omnipresence of Heterogeneity--or living fishes, also--ponds of fresh water: oceans of salt water. As to the Law of Gravitation, I prefer to take one simple stand: Orthodoxy accepts the correlation and equivalence of forces: Gravitation is one of these forces. All other forces have phenomena of repulsion and of inertness irrespective of distance, as well as of attraction. But Newtonian Gravitation admits attraction only: Then Newtonian Gravitation can be only one-third acceptable even to the orthodox, or there is denial of the correlation and equivalence of forces. Or still simpler: Here are the data. Make what you will, yourself, of them. In our Intermediatist revolt against homogeneous, or positive, explanations, or our acceptance that the all-sufficing cannot be less than universality, besides which, however, there would be nothing to suffice, our expression upon the Super-Sargasso Sea, though it harmonizes with data of fishes that fall as if from a stationary source--and, of course, with other data, too--is inadequate to account for two peculiarities of the falls of frogs: That never has a fall of tadpoles been reported; That never has a fall of full-grown frogs been reported-- Always frogs a few months old. It sounds positive, but if there be such reports they are somewhere out of my range of reading. But tadpoles would be more likely to fall from the sky than would frogs, little or big, if such falls be attributed to whirlwinds; and more likely to fall from the Super-Sargasso Sea if, though very tentatively and provisionally, we accept the Super-Sargasso Sea. Before we take up an especial expression upon the fall of immature and larval forms of life to this earth, and the necessity then of conceiving of some factor besides mere stationariness or suspension or stagnation, there are other data that are similar to data of falls of fishes. _Science Gossip_, 1886-238: That small snails, of a land species, had fallen near Redruth, Cornwall, July 8, 1886, "during a heavy thunderstorm": roads and fields strewn with them, so that they were gathered up by the hatful: none seen to fall by the writer of this account: snails said to be "quite different to any previously known in this district." But, upon page 282, we have better orthodoxy. Another correspondent writes that he had heard of the supposed fall of snails: that he had supposed that all such stories had gone the way of witch stories; that, to his astonishment, he had read an account of this absurd story in a local newspaper of "great and deserved repute." "I thought I should for once like to trace the origin of one of these fabulous tales." Our own acceptance is that justice cannot be in an intermediate existence, in which there can be approximation only to justice or to injustice; that to be fair is to have no opinion at all; that to be honest is to be uninterested; that to investigate is to admit prejudice; that nobody has ever really investigated anything, but has always sought positively to prove or to disprove something that was conceived of, or suspected, in advance. "As I suspected," says this correspondent, "I found that the snails were of a familiar land-species"--that they had been upon the ground "in the first place." He found that the snails had appeared after the rain: that "astonished rustics had jumped to the conclusion that they had fallen." He met one person who said that he had seen the snails fall. "This was his error," says the investigator. In the _Philosophical Magazine_, 58-310, there is an account of snails said to have fallen at Bristol in a field of three acres, in such quantities that they were shoveled up. It is said that the snails "may be considered as a local species." Upon page 457, another correspondent says that the numbers had been exaggerated, and that in his opinion they had been upon the ground in the first place. But that there had been some unusual condition aloft comes out in his observation upon "the curious azure-blue appearance of the sun, at the time." _Nature_, 47-278: That, according to _Das Wetter_, December, 1892, upon Aug. 9, 1892, a yellow cloud appeared over Paderborn, Germany. From this cloud, fell a torrential rain, in which were hundreds of mussels. There is no mention of whatever may have been upon the ground in the first place, nor of a whirlwind. Lizards--said to have fallen on the sidewalks of Montreal, Canada, Dec. 28, 1857. (_Notes and Queries_, 8-6-104.) In the _Scientific American_, 3-112, a correspondent writes, from South Granville, N.Y., that, during a heavy shower, July 3, 1860, he heard a peculiar sound at his feet, and looking down, saw a snake lying as if stunned by a fall. It then came to life. Gray snake, about a foot long. These data have any meaning or lack of meaning or degree of damnation you please: but, in the matter of the fall that occurred at Memphis, Tennessee, occur some strong significances. Our quasi-reasoning upon this subject applies to all segregations so far considered. _Monthly Weather Review_, Jan. 15, 1877: That, in Memphis, Tenn., Jan. 15, 1877, rather strictly localized, or "in a space of two blocks," and after a violent storm in which the rain "fell in torrents," snakes were found. They were crawling on sidewalks, in yards, and in streets, and in masses--but "none were found on roofs or any other elevation above ground" and "none were seen to fall." If you prefer to believe that the snakes had always been there, or had been upon the ground in the first place, and that it was only that something occurred to call special attention to them, in the streets of Memphis, Jan. 15, 1877--why, that's sensible: that's the common sense that has been against us from the first. It is not said whether the snakes were of a known species or not, but that "when first seen, they were of a dark brown, almost black." Blacksnakes, I suppose. If we accept that these snakes did fall, even though not seen to fall by all the persons who were out sight-seeing in a violent storm, and had not been in the streets crawling loose or in thick tangled masses, in the first place: If we try to accept that these snakes had been raised from some other part of this earth's surface in a whirlwind: If we try to accept that a whirlwind could segregate them-- We accept the segregation of other objects raised in that whirlwind. Then, near the place of origin, there would have been a fall of heavier objects that had been snatched up with the snakes--stones, fence rails, limbs of trees. Say that the snakes occupied the next gradation, and would be the next to fall. Still farther would there have been separate falls of lightest objects: leaves, twigs, tufts of grass. In the _Monthly Weather Review_ there is no mention of other falls said to have occurred anywhere in January, 1877. Again ours is the objection against such selectiveness by a whirlwind. Conceivably a whirlwind could scoop out a den of hibernating snakes, with stones and earth and an infinitude of other débris, snatching up dozens of snakes--I don't know how many to a den--hundreds maybe--but, according to the account of this occurrence in the _New York Times_, there were thousands of them; alive; from one foot to eighteen inches in length. The _Scientific American_, 36-86, records the fall, and says that there were thousands of them. The usual whirlwind-explanation is given--"but in what locality snakes exist in such abundance is yet a mystery." This matter of enormousness of numbers suggests to me something of a migratory nature--but that snakes in the United States do not migrate in the month of January, if ever. As to falls or flutterings of winged insects from the sky, prevailing notions of swarming would seem explanatory enough: nevertheless, in instances of ants, there are some peculiar circumstances. _L'Astronomie_, 1889-353: Fall of fishes, June 13, 1889, in Holland; ants, Aug. 1, 1889, Strasbourg; little toads, Aug. 2, 1889, Savoy. Fall of ants, Cambridge, England, summer of 1874--"some were wingless." (_Scientific American_, 30-193.) Enormous fall of ants, Nancy, France, July 21, 1887--"most of them were wingless." (_Nature_, 36-349.) Fall of enormous, unknown ants--size of wasps--Manitoba, June, 1895. (_Sci. Amer._, 72-385.) However, our expression will be: That wingless, larval forms of life, in numbers so enormous that migration from some place external to this earth is suggested, have fallen from the sky. That these "migrations"--if such can be our acceptance--have occurred at a time of hibernation and burial far in the ground of larvae in the northern latitudes of this earth; that there is significance in recurrence of these falls in the last of January--or that we have the square of an incredibility in such a notion as that of selection of larvae by whirlwinds, compounded with selection of the last of January. I accept that there are "snow worms" upon this earth--whatever their origin may have been. In the _Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. of Philadelphia_, 1899-125, there is a description of yellow worms and black worms that have been found together on glaciers in Alaska. Almost positively were there no other forms of insect-life upon these glaciers, and there was no vegetation to support insect-life, except microscopic organisms. Nevertheless the description of this probably polymorphic species fits a description of larvae said to have fallen in Switzerland, and less definitely fits another description. There is no opposition here, if our data of falls are clear. Frogs of every-day ponds look like frogs said to have fallen from the sky--except the whitish frogs of Birmingham. However, all falls of larvae have not positively occurred in the last of January: London _Times_, April 14, 1837: That, in the parish of Bramford Speke, Devonshire, a large number of black worms, about three-quarters of an inch in length, had fallen in a snowstorm. In Timb's _Year Book_, 1877-26, it is said that, in the winter of 1876, at Christiania, Norway, worms were found crawling upon the ground. The occurrence is considered a great mystery, because the worms could not have come up from the ground, inasmuch as the ground was frozen at the time, and because they were reported from other places, also, in Norway. Immense number of black insects in a snowstorm, in 1827, at Pakroff, Russia. (_Scientific American_, 30-193.) Fall, with snow, at Orenburg, Russia, Dec. 14, 1830, of a multitude of small, black insects, said to have been gnats, but also said to have had flea-like motions. (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-22-375.) Large number of worms found in a snowstorm, upon the surface of snow about four inches thick, near Sangerfield, N.Y., Nov. 18, 1850 (_Scientific American_, 6-96). The writer thinks that the worms had been brought to the surface of the ground by rain, which had fallen previously. _Scientific American_, Feb. 21, 1891: "A puzzling phenomenon has been noted frequently in some parts of the Valley Bend District, Randolph County, Va., this winter. The crust of the snow has been covered two or three times with worms resembling the ordinary cut worms. Where they come from, unless they fall with the snow is inexplicable." In the _Scientific American_, March 7, 1891, the Editor says that similar worms had been seen upon the snow near Utica, N.Y., and in Oneida and Herkimer Counties; that some of the worms had been sent to the Department of Agriculture at Washington. Again two species, or polymorphism. According to Prof. Riley, it was not polymorphism, "but two distinct species"--which, because of our data, we doubt. One kind was larger than the other: color-differences not distinctly stated. One is called the larvae of the common soldier beetle and the other "seems to be a variety of the bronze cut worm." No attempt to explain the occurrence in snow. Fall of great numbers of larvae of beetles, near Mortagne, France, May, 1858. The larvae were inanimate as if with cold. (_Annales Société Entomologique de France_, 1858.) _Trans. Ent. Soc. of London_, 1871-183, records "snowing of larvae," in Silesia, 1806; "appearance of many larvae on the snow," in Saxony, 1811; "larvae found alive on the snow," 1828; larvae and snow which "fell together," in the Eifel, Jan. 30, 1847; "fall of insects," Jan. 24, 1849, in Lithuania; occurrence of larvae estimated at 300,000 on the snow in Switzerland, in 1856. The compiler says that most of these larvae live underground, or at the roots of trees; that whirlwinds uproot trees, and carry away the larvae--conceiving of them as not held in masses of frozen earth--all as neatly detachable as currants in something. In the _Revue et Magasin de Zoologie_, 1849-72, there is an account of the fall in Lithuania, Jan. 24, 1849--that black larvae had fallen in enormous numbers. Larvae thought to have been of beetles, but described as "caterpillars," not seen to fall, but found crawling on the snow, after a snowstorm, at Warsaw, Jan. 20, 1850. (_All the Year Round_, 8-253.) Flammarion (_The Atmosphere_, p. 414) tells of a fall of larvae that occurred Jan. 30, 1869, in a snowstorm, in Upper Savoy: "They could not have been hatched in the neighborhood, for, during the days preceding, the temperature had been very low"; said to have been of a species common in the south of France. In _La Science Pour Tous_, 14-183, it is said that with these larvae there were developed insects. _L'Astronomie_, 1890-313: That, upon the last of January, 1890, there fell, in a great tempest, in Switzerland, incalculable numbers of larvae: some black and some yellow; numbers so great that hosts of birds were attracted. Altogether we regard this as one of our neatest expressions for external origins and against the whirlwind explanation. If an exclusionist says that, in January, larvae were precisely and painstakingly picked out of frozen ground, in incalculable numbers, he thinks of a tremendous force--disregarding its refinements: then if origin and precipitation be not far apart, what becomes of an infinitude of other débris, conceiving of no time for segregation? If he thinks of a long translation--all the way from the south of France to Upper Savoy, he may think then of a very fine sorting over by differences of specific gravity--but in such a fine selection, larvae would be separated from developed insects. As to differences in specific gravity--the yellow larvae that fell in Switzerland January, 1890, were three times the size of the black larvae that fell with them. In accounts of this occurrence, there is no denial of the fall. Or that a whirlwind never brought them together and held them together and precipitated them and only them together-- That they came from Genesistrine. There's no escape from it. We'll be persecuted for it. Take it or leave it-- Genesistrine. The notion is that there is somewhere aloft a place of origin of life relatively to this earth. Whether it's the planet Genesistrine, or the moon, or a vast amorphous region super-jacent to this earth, or an island in the Super-Sargasso Sea, should perhaps be left to the researches of other super--or extra--geographers. That the first unicellular organisms may have come here from Genesistrine--or that men or anthropomorphic beings may have come here before amoebae: that, upon Genesistrine, there may have been an evolution expressible in conventional biologic terms, but that evolution upon this earth has been--like evolution in modern Japan--induced by external influences; that evolution, as a whole, upon this earth, has been a process of population by immigration or by bombardment. Some notes I have upon remains of men and animals encysted, or covered with clay or stone, as if fired here as projectiles, I omit now, because it seems best to regard the whole phenomenon as a tropism--as a geotropism--probably atavistic, or vestigial, as it were, or something still continuing long after expiration of necessity; that, once upon a time, all kinds of things came here from Genesistrine, but that now only a few kinds of bugs and things, at long intervals, feel the inspiration. Not one instance have we of tadpoles that have fallen to this earth. It seems reasonable that a whirlwind could scoop up a pond, frogs and all, and cast down the frogs somewhere else: but, then, more reasonable that a whirlwind could scoop up a pond, tadpoles and all--because tadpoles are more numerous in their season than are the frogs in theirs: but the tadpole-season is earlier in the spring, or in a time that is more tempestuous. Thinking in terms of causation--as if there were real causes--our notion is that, if X is likely to cause Y, but is more likely to cause Z, but does not cause Z, X is not the cause of Y. Upon this quasi-sorites, we base our acceptance that the little frogs that have fallen to this earth are not products of whirlwinds: that they came from externality, or from Genesistrine. I think of Genesistrine in terms of biologic mechanics: not that somewhere there are persons who collect bugs in or about the last of January and frogs in July and August, and bombard this earth, any more than do persons go through northern regions, catching and collecting birds, every autumn, then casting them southward. But atavistic, or vestigial, geotropism in Genesistrine--or a million larvae start crawling, and a million little frogs start hopping--knowing no more what it's all about than we do when we crawl to work in the morning and hop away at night. I should say, myself, that Genesistrine is a region in the Super-Sargasso Sea, and that parts of the Super-Sargasso Sea have rhythms of susceptibility to this earth's attraction. 8 I accept that, when there are storms, the damnedest of excluded, excommunicated things--things that are leprous to the faithful--are brought down--from the Super-Sargasso Sea--or from what for convenience we call the Super-Sargasso Sea--which by no means has been taken into full acceptance yet. That things are brought down by storms, just as, from the depths of the sea things are brought up by storms. To be sure it is orthodoxy that storms have little, if any, effect below the waves of the ocean--but--of course--only to have an opinion is to be ignorant of, or to disregard a contradiction, or something else that modifies an opinion out of distinguishability. _Symons' Meteorological Magazine_, 47-180: That, along the coast of New Zealand, in regions not subject to submarine volcanic action, deep-sea fishes are often brought up by storms. Iron and stones that fall from the sky; and atmospheric disturbances: "There is absolutely no connection between the two phenomena." (_Symons._) The orthodox belief is that objects moving at planetary velocity would, upon entering this earth's atmosphere, be virtually unaffected by hurricanes; might as well think of a bullet swerved by someone fanning himself. The only trouble with the orthodox reasoning is the usual trouble--its phantom-dominant--its basing upon a myth--data we've had, and more we'll have, of things in the sky having no independent velocity. There are so many storms and so many meteors and meteorites that it would be extraordinary if there were no concurrences. Nevertheless so many of these concurrences are listed by Prof. Baden-Powell (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1850-54) that one--notices. See _Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1860--other instances. The famous fall of stones at Siena, Italy, 1794--"in a violent storm." See _Greg's Catalogues_--many instances. One that stands out is--"bright ball of fire and light in a hurricane in England, Sept. 2, 1786." The remarkable datum here is that this phenomenon was visible forty minutes. That's about 800 times the duration that the orthodox give to meteors and meteorites. See the _Annual Register_--many instances. In _Nature_, Oct. 25, 1877, and the London _Times_, Oct. 15, 1877, something that fell in a gale of Oct. 14, 1877, is described as a "huge ball of green fire." This phenomenon is described by another correspondent, in _Nature_, 17-10, and an account of it by another correspondent was forwarded to _Nature_ by W.F. Denning. There are so many instances that some of us will revolt against the insistence of the faithful that it is only coincidence, and accept that there is connection of the kind called causal. If it is too difficult to think of stones and metallic masses swerved from their courses by storms, if they move at high velocity, we think of low velocity, or of things having no velocity at all, hovering a few miles above this earth, dislodged by storms, and falling luminously. But the resistance is so great here, and "coincidence" so insisted upon that we'd better have some more instances: Aerolite in a storm at St. Leonards-on-sea, England, Sept. 17, 1885--no trace of it found (_Annual Register_, 1885); meteorite in a gale, March 1, 1886, described in the _Monthly Weather Review_, March, 1886; meteorite in a thunderstorm, off coast of Greece, Nov. 19, 1899 (_Nature_, 61-111); fall of a meteorite in a storm, July 7, 1883, near Lachine, Quebec (_Monthly Weather Review_, July, 1883); same phenomenon noted in _Nature_, 28-319; meteorite in a whirlwind, Sweden, Sept. 24, 1883 (_Nature_, 29-15). _London Roy. Soc. Proc._, 6-276: A triangular cloud that appeared in a storm, Dec. 17, 1852; a red nucleus, about half the apparent diameter of the moon, and a long tail; visible 13 minutes; explosion of the nucleus. Nevertheless, in _Science Gossip_, n.s., 6-65, it is said that, though meteorites have fallen in storms, no connection is supposed to exist between the two phenomena, except by the ignorant peasantry. But some of us peasants have gone through the _Report of the British Association_, 1852. Upon page 239, Dr. Buist, who had never heard of the Super-Sargasso Sea, says that, though it is difficult to trace connection between the phenomena, three aerolites had fallen in five months, in India, during thunderstorms, in 1851 (may have been 1852). For accounts by witnesses, see page 229 of the _Report_. Or--we are on our way to account for "thunderstones." It seems to me that, very strikingly here, is borne out the general acceptance that ours is only an intermediate existence, in which there is nothing fundamental, or nothing final to take as a positive standard to judge by. Peasants believed in meteorites. Scientists excluded meteorites. Peasants believe in "thunderstones." Scientists exclude "thunderstones." It is useless to argue that peasants are out in the fields, and that scientists are shut up in laboratories and lecture rooms. We cannot take for a real base that, as to phenomena with which they are more familiar, peasants are more likely to be right than are scientists: a host of biologic and meteorologic fallacies of peasants rises against us. I should say that our "existence" is like a bridge--except that that comparison is in static terms--but like the Brooklyn Bridge, upon which multitudes of bugs are seeking a fundamental--coming to a girder that seems firm and final--but the girder is built upon supports. A support then seems final. But it is built upon underlying structures. Nothing final can be found in all the bridge, because the bridge itself is not a final thing in itself, but is a relationship between Manhattan and Brooklyn. If our "existence" is a relationship between the Positive Absolute and the Negative Absolute, the quest for finality in it is hopeless: everything in it must be relative, if the "whole" is not a whole, but is, itself, a relation. In the attitude of Acceptance, our pseudo-base is: Cells of an embryo are in the reptilian era of the embryo; Some cells feel stimuli to take on new appearances. If it be of the design of the whole that the next era be mammalian, those cells that turn mammalian will be sustained against resistance, by inertia, of all the rest, and will be relatively right, though not finally right, because they, too, in time will have to give way to characters of other eras of higher development. If we are upon the verge of a new era, in which Exclusionism must be overthrown, it will avail thee not to call us base-born and frowsy peasants. In our crude, bucolic way, we now offer an outrage upon common sense that we think will some day be an unquestioned commonplace: That manufactured objects of stone and iron have fallen from the sky: That they have been brought down from a state of suspension, in a region of inertness to this earth's attraction, by atmospheric disturbances. The "thunderstone" is usually "a beautifully polished, wedge-shaped piece of greenstone," says a writer in the _Cornhill Magazine_, 50-517. It isn't: it's likely to be of almost any kind of stone, but we call attention to the skill with which some of them have been made. Of course this writer says it's all superstition. Otherwise he'd be one of us crude and simple sons of the soil. Conventional damnation is that stone implements, already on the ground--"on the ground in the first place"--are found near where lightning was seen to strike: that are supposed by astonished rustics, or by intelligence of a low order, to have fallen in or with lightning. Throughout this book, we class a great deal of science with bad fiction. When is fiction bad, cheap, low? If coincidence is overworked. That's one way of deciding. But with single writers coincidence seldom is overworked: we find the excess in the subject at large. Such a writer as the one of the _Cornhill Magazine_ tells us vaguely of beliefs of peasants: there is no massing of instance after instance after instance. Here ours will be the method of mass-formation. Conceivably lightning may strike the ground near where there was a wedge-shaped object in the first place: again and again and again: lightning striking ground near wedge-shaped object in China; lightning striking ground near wedge-shaped object in Scotland; lightning striking ground near wedge-shaped object in Central Africa: coincidence in France; coincidence in Java; coincidence in South America-- We grant a great deal but note a tendency to restlessness. Nevertheless this is the psycho-tropism of science to all "thunderstones" said to have fallen luminously. As to greenstone, it is in the island of Jamaica, where the notion is general that axes of a hard greenstone fall from the sky--"during the rains." (_Jour. Inst. Jamaica_, 2-4.) Some other time we shall inquire into this localization of objects of a specific material. "They are of a stone nowhere else to be found in Jamaica." (_Notes and Queries_, 2-8-24.) In my own tendency to exclude, or in the attitude of one peasant or savage who thinks he is not to be classed with other peasants or savages, I am not very much impressed with what natives think. It would be hard to tell why. If the word of a Lord Kelvin carries no more weight, upon scientific subjects, than the word of a Sitting Bull, unless it be in agreement with conventional opinion--I think it must be because savages have bad table manners. However, my snobbishness, in this respect, loosens up somewhat before very widespread belief by savages and peasants. And the notion of "thunderstones" is as wide as geography itself. The natives of Burma, China, Japan, according to Blinkenberg (_Thunder Weapons_, p. 100)--not, of course, that Blinkenberg accepts one word of it--think that carved stone objects have fallen from the sky, because they think they have seen such objects fall from the sky. Such objects are called "thunderbolts" in these countries. They are called "thunderstones" in Moravia, Holland, Belgium, France, Cambodia, Sumatra, and Siberia. They're called "storm stones" in Lausitz; "sky arrows" in Slavonia; "thunder axes" in England and Scotland; "lightning stones" in Spain and Portugal; "sky axes" in Greece; "lightning flashes" in Brazil; "thunder teeth" in Amboina. The belief is as widespread as is belief in ghosts and witches, which only the superstitious deny today. As to beliefs by North American Indians, Tyler gives a list of references (_Primitive Culture_, 2-237). As to South American Indians--"Certain stone hatchets are said to have fallen from the heavens." (_Jour. Amer. Folk Lore_, 17-203.) If you, too, revolt against coincidence after coincidence after coincidence, but find our interpretation of "thunderstones" just a little too strong or rich for digestion, we recommend the explanation of one, Tallius, written in 1649: "The naturalists say they are generated in the sky by fulgurous exhalation conglobed in a cloud by the circumfused humor." Of course the paper in the _Cornhill Magazine_ was written with no intention of trying really to investigate this subject, but to deride the notion that worked-stone objects have ever fallen from the sky. A writer in the _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-21-325, read this paper and thinks it remarkable "that any man of ordinary reasoning powers should write a paper to prove that thunderbolts do not exist." I confess that we're a little flattered by that. Over and over: "It is scarcely necessary to suggest to the intelligent reader that thunderstones are a myth." We contend that there is a misuse of a word here: we admit that only we are intelligent upon this subject, if by intelligence is meant the inquiry of inequilibrium, and that all other intellection is only mechanical reflex--of course that intelligence, too, is mechanical, but less orderly and confined: less obviously mechanical--that as an acceptance of ours becomes firmer and firmer-established, we pass from the state of intelligence to reflexes in ruts. An odd thing is that intelligence is usually supposed to be creditable. It may be in the sense that it is mental activity trying to find out, but it is confession of ignorance. The bees, the theologians, the dogmatic scientists are the intellectual aristocrats. The rest of us are plebeians, not yet graduated to Nirvana, or to the instinctive and suave as differentiated from the intelligent and crude. Blinkenberg gives many instances of the superstition of "thunderstones" which flourishes only where mentality is in a lamentable state--or universally. In Malacca, Sumatra, and Java, natives say that stone axes have often been found under trees that have been struck by lightning. Blinkenberg does not dispute this, but says it is coincidence: that the axes were of course upon the ground in the first place: that the natives jumped to the conclusion that these carved stones had fallen in or with lightning. In Central Africa, it is said that often have wedge-shaped, highly polished objects of stone, described as "axes," been found sticking in trees that have been struck by lightning--or by what seemed to be lightning. The natives, rather like the unscientific persons of Memphis, Tenn., when they saw snakes after a storm, jumped to the conclusion that the "axes" had not always been sticking in the trees. Livingstone (_Last Journal_, pages 83, 89, 442, 448) says that he had never heard of stone implements used by natives of Africa. A writer in the _Report of the Smithsonian Institution_, 1877-308, says that there are a few. That they are said, by the natives, to have fallen in thunderstorms. As to luminosity, it is my lamentable acceptance that bodies falling through this earth's atmosphere, if not warmed even, often fall with a brilliant light, looking like flashes of lightning. This matter seems important: we'll take it up later, with data. In Prussia, two stone axes were found in the trunks of trees, one under the bark. (Blinkenberg, _Thunder Weapons_, p. 100.) The finders jumped to the conclusion that the axes had fallen there. Another stone ax--or wedge-shaped object of worked stone--said to have been found in a tree that had been struck by something that looked like lightning. (_Thunder Weapons_, p. 71.) The finder jumped to the conclusion. Story told by Blinkenberg, of a woman, who lived near Kulsbjaergene, Sweden, who found a flint near an old willow--"near her house." I emphasize "near her house" because that means familiar ground. The willow had been split by something. She jumped. Cow killed by lightning, or by what looked like lightning (Isle of Sark, near Guernsey). The peasant who owned the cow dug up the ground at the spot and found a small greenstone "ax." Blinkenberg says that he jumped to the conclusion that it was this object that had fallen luminously, killing the cow. _Reliquary_, 1867-208: A flint ax found by a farmer, after a severe storm--described as a "fearful storm"--by a signal staff, which had been split by something. I should say that nearness to a signal staff may be considered familiar ground. Whether he jumped, or arrived at the conclusion by a more leisurely process, the farmer thought that the flint object had fallen in the storm. In this instance we have a lamentable scientist with us. It's impossible to have positive difference between orthodoxy and heresy: somewhere there must be a merging into each other, or an overlapping. Nevertheless, upon such a subject as this, it does seem a little shocking. In most works upon meteorites, the peculiar, sulphurous odor of things that fall from the sky is mentioned. Sir John Evans (_Stone Implements_, p. 57) says--with extraordinary reasoning powers, if he could never have thought such a thing with ordinary reasoning powers--that this flint object "proved to have been the bolt, by its peculiar smell when broken." If it did so prove to be, that settles the whole subject. If we prove that only one object of worked stone has fallen from the sky, all piling up of further reports is unnecessary. However, we have already taken the stand that nothing settles anything; that the disputes of ancient Greece are no nearer solution now than they were several thousand years ago--all because, in a positive sense, there is nothing to prove or solve or settle. Our object is to be more nearly real than our opponents. Wideness is an aspect of the Universal. We go on widely. According to us the fat man is nearer godliness than is the thin man. Eat, drink, and approximate to the Positive Absolute. Beware of negativeness, by which we mean indigestion. The vast majority of "thunderstones" are described as "axes," but Meunier (_La Nature_, 1892-2-381) tells of one that was in his possession; said to have fallen at Ghardia, Algeria, contrasting "profoundment" (pear-shaped) with the angular outlines of ordinary meteorites. The conventional explanation that it had been formed as a drop of molten matter from a larger body seems reasonable to me; but with less agreeableness I note its fall in a thunderstorm, the datum that turns the orthodox meteorologist pale with rage, or induces a slight elevation of his eyebrows, if you mention it to him. Meunier tells of another "thunderstone" said to have fallen in North Africa. Meunier, too, is a little lamentable here: he quotes a soldier of experience that such objects fall most frequently in the deserts of Africa. Rather miscellaneous now: "Thunderstone" said to have fallen in London, April, 1876: weight about 8 pounds: no particulars as to shape (Timb's _Year Book_, 1877-246). "Thunderstone" said to have fallen at Cardiff, Sept. 26, 1916 (London _Times_, Sept. 28, 1916). According to _Nature_, 98-95, it was coincidence; only a lightning flash had been seen. Stone that fell in a storm, near St. Albans, England: accepted by the Museum of St. Albans; said, at the British Museum, not to be of "true meteoritic material." (_Nature_, 80-34.) London _Times_, April 26, 1876: That, April 20, 1876, near Wolverhampton, fell a mass of meteoritic iron during a heavy fall of rain. An account of this phenomenon in _Nature_, 14-272, by H.S. Maskelyne, who accepts it as authentic. Also, see _Nature_, 13-531. For three other instances, see the _Scientific American_, 47-194; 52-83; 68-325. As to wedge-shape larger than could very well be called an "ax": _Nature_, 30-300: That, May 27, 1884, at Tysnas, Norway, a meteorite had fallen: that the turf was torn up at the spot where the object had been supposed to have fallen; that two days later "a very peculiar stone" was found near by. The description is--"in shape and size very like the fourth part of a large Stilton cheese." It is our acceptance that many objects and different substances have been brought down by atmospheric disturbance from what--only as a matter of convenience now, and until we have more data--we call the Super-Sargasso Sea; however, our chief interest is in objects that have been shaped by means similar to human handicraft. Description of the "thunderstones" of Burma (_Proc. Asiatic Soc. of Bengal_, 1869-183): said to be of a kind of stone unlike any other found in Burma; called "thunderbolts" by the natives. I think there's a good deal of meaning in such expressions as "unlike any other found in Burma"--but that if they had said anything more definite, there would have been unpleasant consequences to writers in the 19th century. More about the "thunderstones" of Burma, in the _Proc. Soc. Antiq. of London_, 2-3-97. One of them, described as an "adze," was exhibited by Captain Duff, who wrote that there was no stone like it in its neighborhood. Of course it may not be very convincing to say that because a stone is unlike neighboring stones it had foreign origin--also we fear it is a kind of plagiarism: we got it from the geologists, who demonstrate by this reasoning the foreign origin of erratics. We fear we're a little gross and scientific at times. But it's my acceptance that a great deal of scientific literature must be read between the lines. It's not everyone who has the lamentableness of a Sir John Evans. Just as a great deal of Voltaire's meaning was inter-linear, we suspect that a Captain Duff merely hints rather than to risk having a Prof. Lawrence Smith fly at him and call him "a half-insane man." Whatever Captain Duff's meaning may have been, and whether he smiled like a Voltaire when he wrote it, Captain Duff writes of "the extremely soft nature of the stone, rendering it equally useless as an offensive or defensive weapon." Story, by a correspondent, in _Nature_, 34-53, of a Malay, of "considerable social standing"--and one thing about our data is that, damned though they be, they do so often bring us into awful good company--who knew of a tree that had been struck, about a month before, by something in a thunderstorm. He searched among the roots of this tree and found a "thunderstone." Not said whether he jumped or leaped to the conclusion that it had fallen: process likely to be more leisurely in tropical countries. Also I'm afraid his way of reasoning was not very original: just so were fragments of the Bath-furnace meteorite, accepted by orthodoxy, discovered. We shall now have an unusual experience. We shall read of some reports of extraordinary circumstances that were investigated by a man of science--not of course that they were really investigated by him, but that his phenomena occupied a position approximating higher to real investigation than to utter neglect. Over and over we read of extraordinary occurrences--no discussion; not even a comment afterward findable; mere mention occasionally--burial and damnation. The extraordinary and how quickly it is hidden away. Burial and damnation, or the obscurity of the conspicuous. We did read of a man who, in the matter of snails, did travel some distance to assure himself of something that he had suspected in advance; and we remember Prof. Hitchcock, who had only to smite Amherst with the wand of his botanical knowledge, and lo! two fungi sprang up before night; and we did read of Dr. Gray and his thousands of fishes from one pailful of water--but these instances stand out; more frequently there was no "investigation." We now have a good many reported occurrences that were "investigated." Of things said to have fallen from the sky, we make, in the usual scientific way, two divisions: miscellaneous objects and substances, and symmetric objects attributable to beings like human beings, sub-dividing into--wedges, spheres, and disks. _Jour. Roy. Met. Soc._, 14-207: That, July 2, 1866, a correspondent to a London newspaper wrote that something had fallen from the sky, during a thunderstorm of June 30, 1866, at Netting Hill. Mr. G.T. Symons, of _Symons' Meteorological Magazine_, investigated, about as fairly, and with about as unprejudiced a mind, as anything ever has been investigated. He says that the object was nothing but a lump of coal: that next door to the home of the correspondent coal had been unloaded the day before. With the uncanny wisdom of the stranger upon unfamiliar ground that we have noted before, Mr. Symons saw that the coal reported to have fallen from the sky, and the coal unloaded more prosaically the day before, were identical. Persons in the neighborhood, unable to make this simple identification, had bought from the correspondent pieces of the object reported to have fallen from the sky. As to credulity, I know of no limits for it--but when it comes to paying out money for credulity--oh, no standards to judge by, of course--just the same-- The trouble with efficiency is that it will merge away into excess. With what seems to me to be super-abundance of convincingness, Mr. Symons then lugs another character into his little comedy: That it was all a hoax by a chemist's pupil, who had filled a capsule with an explosive, and "during the storm had thrown the burning mass into the gutter, so making an artificial thunderbolt." Or even Shakespeare, with all his inartistry, did not lug in King Lear to make Hamlet complete. Whether I'm lugging in something that has no special meaning, myself, or not, I find that this storm of June 30, 1866, was peculiar. It is described in the London _Times_, July 2, 1866: that "during the storm, the sky in many places remained partially clear while hail and rain were falling." That may have more meaning when we take up the possible extra-mundane origin of some hailstones, especially if they fall from a cloudless sky. Mere suggestion, not worth much, that there may have been falls of extra-mundane substances, in London, June 30, 1866. Clinkers, said to have fallen, during a storm, at Kilburn, July 5, 1877: According to the _Kilburn Times_, July 7, 1877, quoted by Mr. Symons, a street had been "literally strewn," during the storm, with a mass of clinkers, estimated at about two bushels: sizes from that of a walnut to that of a man's hand--"pieces of the clinkers can be seen at the _Kilburn Times_ office." If these clinkers, or cinders, were refuse from one of the super-mercantile constructions from which coke and coal and ashes occasionally fall to this earth, or, rather, to the Super-Sargasso Sea, from which dislodgment by tempests occurs, it is intermediatistic to accept that they must merge away somewhere with local phenomena of the scene of precipitation. If a red-hot stove should drop from a cloud into Broadway, someone would find that at about the time of the occurrence, a moving van had passed, and that the moving men had tired of the stove, or something--that it had not been really red-hot, but had been rouged instead of blacked, by some absent-minded housekeeper. Compared with some of the scientific explanations that we have encountered, there's considerable restraint, I think, in that one. Mr. Symons learned that in the same street--he emphasizes that it was a short street--there was a fire-engine station. I had such an impression of him hustling and bustling around at Notting Hill, searching cellars until he found one with newly arrived coal in it; ringing door bells, exciting a whole neighborhood, calling up to second-story windows, stopping people in the streets, hotter and hotter on the trail of a wretched imposter of a chemist's pupil. After his efficiency at Notting Hill, we'd expect to hear that he went to the station, and--something like this: "It is said that clinkers fell, in your street, at about ten minutes past four o'clock, afternoon of July fifth. Will you look over your records and tell me where your engine was at about ten minutes past four, July fifth?" Mr. Symons says: "I think that most probably they had been raked out of the steam fire-engine." June 20, 1880, it was reported that a "thunderstone" had struck the house at 180 Oakley Street, Chelsea, falling down the chimney, into the kitchen grate. Mr. Symons investigated. He describes the "thunderstone" as an "agglomeration of brick, soot, unburned coal, and cinder." He says that, in his opinion, lightning had flashed down the chimney, and had fused some of the brick of it. He does think it remarkable that the lightning did not then scatter the contents of the grate, which were disturbed only as if a heavy body had fallen. If we admit that climbing up the chimney to find out is too rigorous a requirement for a man who may have been large, dignified and subject to expansions, the only unreasonableness we find in what he says--as judged by our more modern outlook, is: "I suppose that no one would suggest that bricks are manufactured in the atmosphere." Sounds a little unreasonable to us, because it is so of the positivistic spirit of former times, when it was not so obvious that the highest incredibility and laughability must merge away with the "proper"--as the _Sci. Am. Sup._ would say. The preposterous is always interpretable in terms of the "proper," with which it must be continuous--or--clay-like masses such as have fallen from the sky--tremendous heat generated by their velocity--they bake--bricks. We begin to suspect that Mr. Symons exhausted himself at Notting Hill. It's a warning to efficiency-fanatics. Then the instance of three lumps of earthy matter, found upon a well-frequented path, after a thunderstorm, at Reading, July 3, 1883. There are so many records of the fall of earthy matter from the sky that it would seem almost uncanny to find resistance here, were we not so accustomed to the uncompromising stands of orthodoxy--which, in our metaphysics, represent good, as attempts, but evil in their insufficiency. If I thought it necessary, I'd list one hundred and fifty instances of earthy matter said to have fallen from the sky. It is his antagonism to atmospheric disturbance associated with the fall of things from the sky that blinds and hypnotizes a Mr. Symons here. This especial Mr. Symons rejects the Reading substance because it was not "of true meteoritic material." It's uncanny--or it's not uncanny at all, but universal--if you don't take something for a standard of opinion, you can't have any opinion at all: but, if you do take a standard, in some of its applications it must be preposterous. The carbonaceous meteorites, which are unquestioned--though avoided, as we have seen--by orthodoxy, are more glaringly of untrue meteoritic material than was this substance of Reading. Mr. Symons says that these three lumps were upon the ground "in the first place." Whether these data are worth preserving or not, I think that the appeal that this especial Mr. Symons makes is worthy of a place in the museum we're writing. He argues against belief in all external origins "for our credit as Englishmen." He is a patriot, but I think that these foreigners had a small chance "in the first place" for hospitality from him. Then comes a "small lump of iron (two inches in diameter)" said to have fallen, during a thunderstorm, at Brixton, Aug. 17, 1887. Mr. Symons says: "At present I cannot trace it." He was at his best at Notting Hill: there's been a marked falling off in his later manner: In the London _Times_, Feb. 1, 1888, it is said that a roundish object of iron had been found, "after a violent thunderstorm," in a garden at Brixton, Aug. 17, 1887. It was analyzed by a chemist, who could not identify it as true meteoritic material. Whether a product of workmanship like human workmanship or not, this object is described as an oblate spheroid, about two inches across its major diameter. The chemist's name and address are given: Mr. J. James Morgan: Ebbw Vale. Garden--familiar ground--I suppose that in Mr. Symons' opinion this symmetric object had been upon the ground "in the first place," though he neglects to say this. But we do note that he described this object as a "lump," which does not suggest the spheroidal or symmetric. It is our notion that the word "lump" was, because of its meaning of amorphousness, used purposely to have the next datum stand alone, remote, without similars. If Mr. Symons had said that there had been a report of another round object that had fallen from the sky, his readers would be attracted by an agreement. He distracts his readers by describing in terms of the unprecedented-- "Iron cannon ball." It was found in a manure heap, in Sussex, after a thunderstorm. However, Mr. Symons argues pretty reasonably, it seems to me, that, given a cannon ball in a manure heap, in the first place, lightning might be attracted by it, and, if seen to strike there, the untutored mind, or mentality below the average, would leap or jump, or proceed with less celerity, to the conclusion that the iron object had fallen. Except that--if every farmer isn't upon very familiar ground--or if every farmer doesn't know his own manure heap as well as Mr. Symons knew his writing desk-- Then comes the instance of a man, his wife, and his three daughters, at Casterton, Westmoreland, who were looking out at their lawn, during a thunderstorm, when they "considered," as Mr. Symons expresses it, that they saw a stone fall from the sky, kill a sheep, and bury itself in the ground. They dug. They found a stone ball. Symons: Coincidence. It had been there in the first place. This object was exhibited at a meeting of the Royal Meteorological Society by Mr. C. Carus-Wilson. It is described in the _Journal's_ list of exhibits as a "sandstone" ball. It is described as "sandstone" by Mr. Symons. Now a round piece of sandstone may be almost anywhere in the ground--in the first place--but, by our more or less discreditable habit of prying and snooping, we find that this object was rather more complex and of material less commonplace. In snooping through _Knowledge_, Oct. 9, 1885, we read that this "thunderstone" was in the possession of Mr. C. Carus-Wilson, who tells the story of the witness and his family--the sheep killed, the burial of something in the earth, the digging, and the finding. Mr. C. Carus-Wilson describes the object as a ball of hard, ferruginous quartzite, about the size of a cocoanut, weight about twelve pounds. Whether we're feeling around for significance or not, there is a suggestion not only of symmetry but of structure in this object: it had an external shell, separated from a loose nucleus. Mr. Carus-Wilson attributes this cleavage to unequal cooling of the mass. My own notion is that there is very little deliberate misrepresentation in the writings of scientific men: that they are quite as guiltless in intent as are other hypnotic subjects. Such a victim of induced belief reads of a stone ball said to have fallen from the sky. Mechanically in his mind arise impressions of globular lumps, or nodules, of sandstone, which are common almost everywhere. He assimilates the reported fall with his impressions of objects in the ground, in the first place. To an intermediatist, the phenomena of intellection are only phenomena of universal process localized in human minds. The process called "explanation" is only a local aspect of universal assimilation. It looks like materialism: but the intermediatist holds that interpretation of the immaterial, as it is called, in terms of the material, as it is called, is no more rational than interpretation of the "material" in terms of the "immaterial": that there is in quasi-existence neither the material nor the immaterial, but approximations one way or the other. But so hypnotic quasi-reasons: that globular lumps of sandstone are common. Whether he jumps or leaps, or whether only the frowsy and base-born are so athletic, his is the impression, by assimilation, that this especial object is a ball of sandstone. Or human mentality: its inhabitants are conveniences. It may be that Mr. Symons' paper was written before this object was exhibited to the members of the Society, and with the charity with which, for the sake of diversity, we intersperse our malices, we are willing to accept that he "investigated" something that he had never seen. But whoever listed this object was uncareful: it is listed as "sandstone." We're making excuses for them. Really--as it were--you know, we're not quite so damned as we were. One does not apologize for the gods and at the same time feel quite utterly prostrate before them. If this were a real existence, and all of us real persons, with real standards to judge by, I'm afraid we'd have to be a little severe with some of these Mr. Symonses. As it is, of course, seriousness seems out of place. We note an amusing little touch in the indefinite allusion to "a man," who with his un-named family, had "considered" that he had seen a stone fall. The "man" was the Rev. W. Carus-Wilson, who was well-known in his day. The next instance was reported by W.B. Tripp, F.R.M.S.--that, during a thunderstorm, a farmer had seen the ground in front of him plowed up by something that was luminous. Dug. Bronze ax. My own notion is that an expedition to the North Pole could not be so urgent as that representative scientists should have gone to that farmer and there spent a summer studying this one reported occurrence. As it is--un-named farmer--somewhere--no date. The thing must stay damned. Another specimen for our museum is a comment in _Nature_ upon these objects: that they are "of an amusing character, thus clearly showing that they were of terrestrial, and not a celestial, character." Just why celestiality, or that of it which, too, is only of Intermediateness should not be quite as amusing as terrestriality is beyond our reasoning powers, which we have agreed are not ordinary. Of course there is nothing amusing about wedges and spheres at all--or Archimedes and Euclid are humorists. It is that they were described derisively. If you'd like a little specimen of the standardization of orthodox opinion-- _Amer. Met. Jour._, 4-589: "They are of an amusing character, thus clearly showing that they were of a terrestrial and not a celestial character." I'm sure--not positively, of course--that we've tried to be as easygoing and lenient with Mr. Symons as his obviously scientific performance would permit. Of course it may be that sub-consciously we were prejudiced against him, instinctively classing him with St. Augustine, Darwin, St. Jerome, and Lyell. As to the "thunderstones," I think that he investigated them mostly "for the credit of Englishmen," or in the spirit of the Royal Krakatoa Committee, or about as the commission from the French Academy investigated meteorites. According to a writer in _Knowledge_, 5-418, the Krakatoa Committee attempted not in the least to prove what had caused the atmospheric effects of 1883, but to prove--that Krakatoa did it. Altogether I should think that the following quotation should be enlightening to anyone who still thinks that these occurrences were investigated not to support an opinion formed in advance: In opening his paper, Mr. Symons says that he undertook his investigation as to the existence of "thunderstones," or "thunderbolts" as he calls them--"feeling certain that there was a weak point somewhere, inasmuch as 'thunderbolts' have no existence." We have another instance of the reported fall of a "cannon ball." It occurred prior to Mr. Symons' investigations, but is not mentioned by him. It was investigated, however. In the _Proc. Roy. Soc. Edin._, 3-147, is the report of a "thunderstone," "supposed to have fallen in Hampshire, Sept., 1852." It was an iron cannon ball, or it was a "large nodule of iron pyrites or bisulphuret of iron." No one had seen it fall. It had been noticed, upon a garden path, for the first time, after a thunderstorm. It was only a "supposed" thing, because--"It had not the character of any known meteorite." In the London _Times_, Sept. 16, 1852, appears a letter from Mr. George E. Bailey, a chemist of Andover, Hants. He says that, in a very heavy thunderstorm, of the first week of September, 1852, this iron object, had fallen in the garden of Mr. Robert Dowling, of Andover; that it had fallen upon a path "within six yards of the house." It had been picked up "immediately" after the storm by Mrs. Dowling. It was about the size of a cricket ball: weight four pounds. No one had seen it fall. In the _Times_, Sept. 15, 1852, there is an account of this thunderstorm, which was of unusual violence. There are some other data relative to the ball of quartz of Westmoreland. They're poor things. There's so little to them that they look like ghosts of the damned. However, ghosts, when multiplied, take on what is called substantiality--if the solidest thing conceivable, in quasi-existence, is only concentrated phantomosity. It is not only that there have been other reports of quartz that has fallen from the sky; there is another agreement. The round quartz object of Westmoreland, if broken open and separated from its loose nucleus, would be a round, hollow, quartz object. My pseudo-position is that two reports of similar extraordinary occurrences, one from England and one from Canada--are interesting. _Proc. Canadian Institute_, 3-7-8: That, at the meeting of the Institute, of Dec. 1, 1888, one of the members, Mr. J.A. Livingstone, exhibited a globular quartz body which he asserted had fallen from the sky. It had been split open. It was hollow. But the other members of the Institute decided that the object was spurious, because it was not of "true meteoritic material." No date; no place mentioned; we note the suggestion that it was only a geode, which had been upon the ground in the first place. Its crystalline lining was geode-like. Quartz is upon the "index prohibitory" of Science. A monk who would read Darwin would sin no more than would a scientist who would admit that, except by the "up and down" process, quartz has ever fallen from the sky--but Continuity: it is not excommunicated if part of or incorporated in a baptized meteorite--St. Catherine's of Mexico, I think. It's as epicurean a distinction as any ever made by theologians. Fassig lists a quartz pebble, found in a hailstone (_Bibliography_, part 2-355). "Up and down," of course. Another object of quartzite was reported to have fallen, in the autumn of 1880, at Schroon Lake, N.Y.--said in the _Scientific American_, 43-272 to be a fraud--it was not--the usual. About the first of May, 1899, the newspapers published a story of a "snow-white" meteorite that had fallen, at Vincennes, Indiana. The Editor of the _Monthly Weather Review_ (issue of April, 1899) requested the local observer, at Vincennes, to investigate. The Editor says that the thing was only a fragment of a quartz boulder. He says that anyone with at least a public school education should know better than to write that quartz has ever fallen from the sky. _Notes and Queries_, 2-8-92: That, in the Leyden Museum of Antiquities, there is a disk of quartz: 6 centimeters by 5 millimeters by about 5 centimeters; said to have fallen upon a plantation in the Dutch West Indies, after a meteoric explosion. Bricks. I think this is a vice we're writing. I recommend it to those who have hankered for a new sin. At first some of our data were of so frightful or ridiculous mien as to be hated, or eyebrowed, was only to be seen. Then some pity crept in? I think that we can now embrace bricks. The baked-clay-idea was all right in its place, but it rather lacks distinction, I think. With our minds upon the concrete boats that have been building terrestrially lately, and thinking of wrecks that may occur to some of them, and of a new material for the deep-sea fishes to disregard-- Object that fell at Richland, South Carolina--yellow to gray--said to look like a piece of brick. (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 2-34-298.) Pieces of "furnace-made brick" said to have fallen--in a hailstorm--at Padua, August, 1834. (_Edin. New Phil. Jour._, 19-87.) The writer offered an explanation that started another convention: that the fragments of brick had been knocked from buildings by the hailstones. But there is here a concomitant that will be disagreeable to anyone who may have been inclined to smile at the now digestible--enough notion that furnace-made bricks have fallen from the sky. It is that in some of the hailstones--two per cent of them--that were found with the pieces of brick, was a light grayish powder. _Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society_, 337-365: Padre Sechi explains that a stone said to have fallen, in a thunderstorm, at Supino, Italy, September, 1875, had been knocked from a roof. _Nature_, 33-153: That it had been reported that a good-sized stone, of form clearly artificial, had fallen at Naples, November, 1885. The stone was described by two professors of Naples, who had accepted it as inexplicable but veritable. They were visited by Dr. H. Johnstone-Lavis, the correspondent to _Nature_, whose investigations had convinced him that the object was a "shoemaker's lapstone." Now to us of the initiated, or to us of the wider outlook, there is nothing incredible in the thought of shoemakers in other worlds--but I suspect that this characterization is tactical. This object of worked stone, or this shoemaker's lapstone, was made of Vesuvian lava, Dr. Johnstone-Lavis thinks: most probably of lava of the flow of 1631, from the La Scala quarries. We condemn "most probably" as bad positivism. As to the "men of position," who had accepted that this thing had fallen from the sky--"I have now obliged them to admit their mistake," says Dr. Johnstone-Lavis--or it's always the stranger in Naples who knows La Scala lava better than the natives know it. Explanation: That the thing had been knocked from, or thrown from, a roof. As to attempt to trace the occurrence to any special roof--nothing said upon that subject. Or that Dr. Johnstone-Lavis called a carved stone a "lapstone," quite as Mr. Symons called a spherical object a "cannon ball": bent upon a discrediting incongruity: Shoemaking and celestiality. It is so easy to say that axes, or wedge-shaped stones found on the ground, were there in the first place, and that it is only coincidence that lightning should strike near one--but the credibility of coincidences decreases as the square root of their volume, I think. Our massed instances speak too much of coincidences of coincidences. But the axes, or wedge-shaped objects that have been found in trees, are more difficult for orthodoxy. For instance, Arago accepts that such finds have occurred, but he argues that, if wedge-shaped stones have been found in tree trunks, so have toads been found in tree trunks--did the toads fall there? Not at all bad for a hypnotic. Of course, in our acceptance, the Irish are the Chosen People. It's because they are characteristically best in accord with the underlying essence of quasi-existence. M. Arago answers a question by asking another question. That's the only way a question can be answered in our Hibernian kind of an existence. Dr. Bodding argued with the natives of the Santal Parganas, India, who said that cut and shaped stones had fallen from the sky, some of them lodging in tree trunks. Dr. Bodding, with orthodox notions of velocity of falling bodies, having missed, I suppose, some of the notes I have upon large hailstones, which, for size, have fallen with astonishingly low velocity, argued that anything falling from the sky would be "smashed to atoms." He accepts that objects of worked stone have been found in tree trunks, but he explains: That the Santals often steal trees, but do not chop them down in the usual way, because that would be to make too much noise: they insert stone wedges, and hammer them instead: then, if they should be caught, wedges would not be the evidence against them that axes would be. Or that a scientific man can't be desperate and reasonable too. Or that a pickpocket, for instance, is safe, though caught with his hand in one's pocket, if he's gloved, say: because no court in the land would regard a gloved hand in the same way in which a bare hand would be regarded. That there's nothing but intermediateness to the rational and the preposterous: that this status of our own ratiocinations is perceptible wherein they are upon the unfamiliar. Dr. Bodding collected 50 of these shaped stones, said to have fallen from the sky, in the course of many years. He says that the Santals are a highly developed race, and for ages have not used stone implements--except in this one nefarious convenience to him. All explanations are localizations. They fade away before the universal. It is difficult to express that black rains in England do not originate in the smoke of factories--less difficult to express that black rains of South Africa do not. We utter little stress upon the absurdity of Dr. Bedding's explanation, because, if anything's absurd everything's absurd, or, rather, has in it some degree or aspect of absurdity, and we've never had experience with any state except something somewhere between ultimate absurdity and final reasonableness. Our acceptance is that Dr. Bedding's elaborate explanation does not apply to cut-stone objects found in tree trunks in other lands: we accept that for the general, a local explanation is inadequate. As to "thunderstones" not said to have fallen luminously, and not said to have been found sticking in trees, we are told by faithful hypnotics that astonished rustics come upon prehistoric axes that have been washed into sight by rains, and jump to the conclusion that the things have fallen from the sky. But simple rustics come upon many prehistoric things: scrapers, pottery, knives, hammers. We have no record of rusticity coming upon old pottery after a rain, reporting the fall of a bowl from the sky. Just now, my own acceptance is that wedge-shaped stone objects, formed by means similar to human workmanship, have often fallen from the sky. Maybe there are messages upon them. My acceptance is that they have been called "axes" to discredit them: or the more familiar a term, the higher the incongruity with vague concepts of the vast, remote, tremendous, unknown. In _Notes and Queries_, 2-8-92, a writer says that he had a "thunderstone," which he had brought from Jamaica. The description is of a wedge-shaped object; not of an ax: "It shows no mark of having been attached to a handle." Of ten "thunderstones," figured upon different pages in Blinkenberg's book, nine show no sign of ever having been attached to a handle: one is perforated. But in a report by Dr. C. Leemans, Director of the Leyden Museum of Antiquities, objects, said by the Japanese to have fallen from the sky, are alluded to throughout as "wedges." In the _Archaeologic Journal_, 11-118, in a paper upon the "thunderstones" of Java, the objects are called "wedges" and not "axes." Our notion is that rustics and savages call wedge-shaped objects that fall from the sky, "axes": that scientific men, when it suits their purposes, can resist temptations to prolixity and pedantry, and adopt the simple: that they can be intelligible when derisive. All of which lands us in a confusion, worse, I think, than we were in before we so satisfactorily emerged from the distresses of--butter and blood and ink and paper and punk and silk. Now it's cannon balls and axes and disks--if a "lapstone" be a disk--it's a flat stone, at any rate. A great many scientists are good impressionists: they snub the impertinences of details. Had he been of a coarse, grubbing nature, I think Dr. Bodding could never have so simply and beautifully explained the occurrence of stone wedges in tree trunks. But to a realist, the story would be something like this: A man who needed a tree, in a land of jungles, where, for some unknown reason, everyone's very selfish with his trees, conceives that hammering stone wedges makes less noise than does the chopping of wood: he and his descendants, in a course of many years, cut down trees with wedges, and escape penalty, because it never occurs to a prosecutor that the head of an ax is a wedge. The story is like every other attempted positivism--beautiful and complete, until we see what it excludes or disregards; whereupon it becomes the ugly and incomplete--but not absolutely, because there is probably something of what is called foundation for it. Perhaps a mentally incomplete Santal did once do something of the kind. Story told to Dr. Bodding: in the usual scientific way, he makes a dogma of an aberration. Or we did have to utter a little stress upon this matter, after all. They're so hairy and attractive, these scientists of the 19th century. We feel the zeal of a Sitting Bull when we think of their scalps. We shall have to have an expression of our own upon this confusing subject. We have expressions: we don't call them explanations: we've discarded explanations with beliefs. Though everyone who scalps is, in the oneness of allness, himself likely to be scalped, there is such a discourtesy to an enemy as the wearing of wigs. Cannon balls and wedges, and what may they mean? Bombardments of this earth-- Attempts to communicate-- Or visitors to this earth, long ago--explorers from the moon--taking back with them, as curiosities, perhaps, implements of this earth's prehistoric inhabitants--a wreck--a cargo of such things held for ages in suspension in the Super-Sargasso Sea--falling, or shaken, down occasionally by storms-- But, by preponderance of description, we cannot accept that "thunderstones" ever were attached to handles, or are prehistoric axes-- As to attempts to communicate with this earth by means of wedge-shaped objects especially adapted to the penetration of vast, gelatinous areas spread around this earth-- In the _Proc. Roy. Irish Acad._, 9-337, there is an account of a stone wedge that fell from the sky, near Cashel, Tipperary, Aug. 2, 1865. The phenomenon is not questioned, but the orthodox preference is to call it, not ax-like, nor wedge-shaped, but "pyramidal." For data of other pyramidal stones said to have fallen from the sky, see _Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1861-34. One fell at Segowolee, India, March 6, 1853. Of the object that fell at Cashel, Dr. Haughton says in the _Proceedings_: "A singular feature is observable in this stone, that I have never seen in any other:--the rounded edges of the pyramid are sharply marked by lines on the black crust, as perfect as if made by a ruler." Dr. Haughton's idea is that the marks may have been made by "some peculiar tension in the cooling." It must have been very peculiar, if in all aerolites not wedge-shaped, no such phenomenon had ever been observed. It merges away with one or two instances known, after Dr. Haughton's time, of seeming stratification in meteorites. Stratification in meteorites, however, is denied by the faithful. I begin to suspect something else. A whopper is coming. Later it will be as reasonable, by familiarity, as anything else ever said. If someone should study the stone of Cashel, as Champollion studied the Rosetta stone, he might--or, rather, would inevitably--find meaning in those lines, and translate them into English-- Nevertheless I begin to suspect something else: something more subtle and esoteric than graven characters upon stones that have fallen from the sky, in attempts to communicate. The notion that other worlds are attempting to communicate with this world is widespread: my own notion is that it is not attempt at all--that it was achievement centuries ago. I should like to send out a report that a "thunderstone" had fallen, say, somewhere in New Hampshire-- And keep track of every person who came to examine that stone--trace down his affiliations--keep track of him-- Then send out a report that a "thunderstone" had fallen at Stockholm, say-- Would one of the persons who had gone to New Hampshire, be met again in Stockholm? But--what if he had no anthropological, lapidarian, or meteorological affiliations--but did belong to a secret society-- It is only a dawning credulity. Of the three forms of symmetric objects that have, or haven't, fallen from the sky, it seems to me that the disk is the most striking. So far, in this respect, we have been at our worst--possibly that's pretty bad--but "lapstones" are likely to be of considerable variety of form, and something that is said to have fallen at sometime somewhere in the Dutch West Indies is profoundly of the unchosen. Now we shall have something that is high up in the castes of the accursed: _Comptes Rendus_, 1887-182: That, upon June 20, 1887, in a "violent storm"--two months before the reported fall of the symmetric iron object of Brixton--a small stone had fallen from the sky at Tarbes, France: 13 millimeters in diameter; 5 millimeters thick; weight 2 grammes. Reported to the French Academy by M. Sudre, professor of the Normal School, Tarbes. This time the old convenience "there in the first place" is too greatly resisted--the stone was covered with ice. This object had been cut and shaped by means similar to human hands and human mentality. It was a disk of worked stone--"tres regulier." "Il a été assurement travaillé." There's not a word as to any known whirlwind anywhere: nothing of other objects or débris that fell at or near this date, in France. The thing had fallen alone. But as mechanically as any part of a machine responds to its stimulus, the explanation appears in _Comptes Rendus_ that this stone had been raised by a whirlwind and then flung down. It may be that in the whole nineteenth century no event more important than this occurred. In _La Nature_, 1887, and in _L'Année Scientifique_, 1887, this occurrence is noted. It is mentioned in one of the summer numbers of _Nature_, 1887. Fassig lists a paper upon it in the _Annuaire de Soc. Met._, 1887. Not a word of discussion. Not a subsequent mention can I find. Our own expression: What matters it how we, the French Academy, or the Salvation Army may explain? A disk of worked stone fell from the sky, at Tarbes, France, June 20, 1887. 9 My own pseudo-conclusion: That we've been damned by giants sound asleep, or by great scientific principles and abstractions that cannot realize themselves: that little harlots have visited their caprices upon us; that clowns, with buckets of water from which they pretend to cast thousands of good-sized fishes have anathematized us for laughing disrespectfully, because, as with all clowns, underlying buffoonery is the desire to be taken seriously; that pale ignorances, presiding over microscopes by which they cannot distinguish flesh from nostoc or fishes' spawn or frogs' spawn, have visited upon us their wan solemnities. We've been damned by corpses and skeletons and mummies, which twitch and totter with pseudo-life derived from conveniences. Or there is only hypnosis. The accursed are those who admit they're the accursed. If we be more nearly real we are reasons arraigned before a jury of dream-phantasms. Of all meteorites in museums, very few were seen to fall. It is considered sufficient grounds for admission if specimens can't be accounted for in any way other than that they fell from the sky--as if in the haze of uncertainty that surrounds all things, or that is the essence of everything, or in the merging away of everything into something else, there could be anything that could be accounted for in only one way. The scientist and the theologian reason that if something can be accounted for in only one way, it is accounted for in that way--or logic would be logical, if the conditions that it imposes, but, of course, does not insist upon, could anywhere be found in quasi-existence. In our acceptance, logic, science, art, religion are, in our "existence," premonitions of a coming awakening, like dawning awarenesses of surroundings in the mind of a dreamer. Any old chunk of metal that measures up to the standard of "true meteoritic material" is admitted by the museums. It may seem incredible that modern curators still have this delusion, but we suspect that the date on one's morning newspaper hasn't much to do with one's modernity all day long. In reading Fletcher's catalogue, for instance, we learn that some of the best-known meteorites were "found in draining a field"--"found in making a road"--"turned up by the plow" occurs a dozen times. Someone fishing in Lake Okeechobee, brought up an object in his fishing net. No meteorite had ever been seen to fall near it. The U.S. National Museum accepts it. If we have accepted only one of the data of "untrue meteoritic material"--one instance of "carbonaceous" matter--if it be too difficult to utter the word "coal"--we see that in this inclusion-exclusion, as in every other means of forming an opinion, false inclusion and false exclusion have been practiced by curators of museums. There is something of ultra-pathos--of cosmic sadness--in this universal search for a standard, and in belief that one has been revealed by either inspiration or analysis, then the dogged clinging to a poor sham of a thing long after its insufficiency has been shown--or renewed hope and search for the special that can be true, or for something local that could also be universal. It's as if "true meteoritic material" were a "rock of ages" to some scientific men. They cling. But clingers cannot hold out welcoming arms. The only seemingly conclusive utterance, or seemingly substantial thing to cling to, is a product of dishonesty, ignorance, or fatigue. All sciences go back and back, until they're worn out with the process, or until mechanical reaction occurs: then they move forward--as it were. Then they become dogmatic, and take for bases, positions that were only points of exhaustion. So chemistry divided and sub-divided down to atoms; then, in the essential insecurity of all quasi-constructions, it built up a system, which, to anyone so obsessed by his own hypnoses that he is exempt to the chemist's hypnoses, is perceptibly enough an intellectual anæmia built upon infinitesimal debilities. In _Science_, n.s., 31-298, E.D. Hovey, of the American Museum of Natural History, asserts or confesses that often have objects of material such as fossiliferous limestone and slag been sent to him He says that these things have been accompanied by assurances that they have been seen to fall on lawns, on roads, in front of houses. They are all excluded. They are not of true meteoritic material. They were on the ground in the first place. It is only by coincidence that lightning has struck, or that a real meteorite, which was unfindable, has struck near objects of slag and limestone. Mr. Hovey says that the list might be extended indefinitely. That's a tantalizing suggestion of some very interesting stuff-- He says: "But it is not worth while." I'd like to know what strange, damned, excommunicated things have been sent to museums by persons who have felt convinced that they had seen what they may have seen, strongly enough to risk ridicule, to make up bundles, go to express offices, and write letters. I accept that over the door of every museum, into which such things enter, is written: "Abandon Hope." If a Mr. Symons mentions one instance of coal, or of slag or cinders, said to have fallen from the sky, we are not--except by association with the "carbonaceous" meteorites--strong in our impression that coal sometimes falls to this earth from coal-burning super-constructions up somewhere-- In _Comptes Rendus_, 91-197, M. Daubrée tells the same story. Our acceptance, then, is that other curators could tell this same story. Then the phantomosity of our impression substantiates proportionately to its multiplicity. M. Daubrée says that often have strange damned things been sent to the French museums, accompanied by assurances that they had been seen to fall from the sky. Especially to our interest, he mentions coal and slag. Excluded. Buried un-named and undated in Science's potter's field. I do not say that the data of the damned should have the same rights as the data of the saved. That would be justice. That would be of the Positive Absolute, and, though the ideal of, a violation of, the very essence of quasi-existence, wherein only to have the appearance of being is to express a preponderance of force one way or another--or inequilibrium, or inconsistency, or injustice. Our acceptance is that the passing away of exclusionism is a phenomenon of the twentieth century: that gods of the twentieth century will sustain our notions be they ever so unwashed and frowsy. But, in our own expressions, we are limited, by the oneness of quasiness, to the very same methods by which orthodoxy established and maintains its now sleek, suave preposterousnesses. At any rate, though we are inspired by an especial subtle essence--or imponderable, I think--that pervades the twentieth century, we have not the superstition that we are offering anything as a positive fact. Rather often we have not the delusion that we're any less superstitious and credulous than any logician, savage, curator, or rustic. An orthodox demonstration, in terms of which we shall have some heresies, is that if things found in coal could have got there only by falling there--they fell there. So, in the _Manchester Lit. and Phil. Soc. Mems._, 2-9-306, it is argued that certain roundish stones that have been found in coal are "fossil aerolites": that they had fallen from the sky, ages ago, when the coal was soft, because the coal had closed around them, showing no sign of entrance. _Proc. Soc. of Antiq. of Scotland_, 1-1-121: That, in a lump of coal, from a mine in Scotland, an iron instrument had been found-- "The interest attaching to this singular relic arises from the fact of its having been found in the heart of a piece of coal, seven feet under the surface." If we accept that this object of iron was of workmanship beyond the means and skill of the primitive men who may have lived in Scotland when coal was forming there-- "The instrument was considered to be modern." That our expression has more of realness, or higher approximation to realness, than has the attempt to explain that is made in the _Proceedings_: That in modern times someone may have bored for coal, and that his drill may have broken off in the coal it had penetrated. Why he should have abandoned such easily accessible coal, I don't know. The important point is that there was no sign of boring: that this instrument was in a lump of coal that had closed around it so that its presence was not suspected, until the lump of coal was broken. No mention can I find of this damned thing in any other publication. Of course there is an alternative here: the thing may not have fallen from the sky: if in coal-forming times, in Scotland, there were, indigenous to this earth, no men capable of making such an iron instrument, it may have been left behind by visitors from other worlds. In an extraordinary approximation to fairness and justice, which is permitted to us, because we are quite as desirous to make acceptable that nothing can be proved as we are to sustain our own expressions, we note: That in _Notes and Queries_, 11-1-408, there is an account of an ancient copper seal, about the size of a penny, found in chalk, at a depth of from five to six feet, near Bredenstone, England. The design upon it is said to be of a monk kneeling before a virgin and child: a legend upon the margin is said to be: "St. Jordanis Monachi Spaldingie." I don't know about that. It looks very desirable--undesirable to us. There's a wretch of an ultra-frowsy thing in the _Scientific American_, 7-298, which we condemn ourselves, if somewhere, because of the oneness of allness, the damned must also be the damning. It's a newspaper story: that about the first of June, 1851, a powerful blast, near Dorchester, Mass., cast out from a bed of solid rock a bell-shaped vessel of an unknown metal: floral designs inlaid with silver; "art of some cunning workman." The opinion of the Editor of the _Scientific American_ is that the thing had been made by Tubal Cain, who was the first inhabitant of Dorchester. Though I fear that this is a little arbitrary, I am not disposed to fly rabidly at every scientific opinion. _Nature_, 35-36: A block of metal found in coal, in Austria, 1885. It is now in the Salsburg museum. This time we have another expression. Usually our intermediatist attack upon provincial positivism is: Science, in its attempted positivism takes something such as "true meteoritic material" as a standard of judgment; but carbonaceous matter, except for its relative infrequency, is just as veritable a standard of judgment; carbonaceous matter merges away into such a variety of organic substances, that all standards are reduced to indistinguishability: if, then, there is no real standard against us, there is no real resistance to our own acceptances. Now our intermediatism is: Science takes "true meteoritic material" as a standard of admission; but now we have an instance that quite as truly makes "true meteoritic material" a standard of exclusion; or, then, a thing that denies itself is no real resistance to our own acceptances--this depending upon whether we have a datum of something of "true meteoritic material" that orthodoxy can never accept fell from the sky. We're a little involved here. Our own acceptance is upon a carved, geometric thing that, if found in a very old deposit, antedates human life, except, perhaps, very primitive human life, as an indigenous product of this earth: but we're quite as much interested in the dilemma it made for the faithful. It is of "true meteoritic material." _L'Astronomie_, 1887-114, it is said that, though so geometric, its phenomena so characteristic of meteorites exclude the idea that it was the work of man. As to the deposit--Tertiary coal. Composition--iron, carbon, and a small quantity of nickel. It has the pitted surface that is supposed by the faithful to be characteristic of meteorites. For a full account of this subject, see _Comptes Rendus_, 103-702. The scientists who examined it could reach no agreement. They bifurcated: then a compromise was suggested; but the compromise is a product of disregard: That it was of true meteoritic material, and had not been shaped by man; That it was not of true meteoritic material, but telluric iron that had been shaped by man: That it was true meteoritic material that had fallen from the sky, but had been shaped by man, after its fall. The data, one or more of which must be disregarded by each of these three explanations, are: "true meteoritic material" and surface markings of meteorites; geometric form; presence in an ancient deposit; material as hard as steel; absence upon this earth, in Tertiary times, of men who could work in material as hard as steel. It is said that, though of "true meteoritic material," this object is virtually a steel object. St. Augustine, with his orthodoxy, was never in--well, very much worse--difficulties than are the faithful here. By due disregard of a datum or so, our own acceptance that it was a steel object that had fallen from the sky to this earth, in Tertiary times, is not forced upon one. We offer ours as the only synthetic expression. For instance, in _Science Gossip_, 1887-58, it is described as a meteorite: in this account there is nothing alarming to the pious, because, though everything else is told, its geometric form is not mentioned. It's a cube. There is a deep incision all around it. Of its faces, two that are opposite are rounded. Though I accept that our own expression can only rather approximate to Truth, by the wideness of its inclusions, and because it seems, of four attempts, to represent the only complete synthesis, and can be nullified or greatly modified by data that we, too, have somewhere disregarded, the only means of nullification that I can think of would be demonstration that this object is a mass of iron pyrites, which sometimes forms geometrically. But the analysis mentions not a trace of sulphur. Of course our weakness, or impositiveness, lies in that, by anyone to whom it would be agreeable to find sulphur in this thing, sulphur would be found in it--by our own intermediatism there is some sulphur in everything, or sulphur is only a localization or emphasis of something that, unemphasized, is in all things. So there have, or haven't, been found upon this earth things that fell from the sky, or that were left behind by extra-mundane visitors to this earth-- A yarn in the London _Times_, June 22, 1844: that some workmen, quarrying rock, close to the Tweed, about a quarter of a mile below Rutherford Mills, discovered a gold thread embedded in the stone at a depth of 8 feet: that a piece of the gold thread had been sent to the office of the _Kelso Chronicle_. Pretty little thing; not at all frowsy; rather damnable. London _Times_, Dec. 24, 1851: That Hiram De Witt, of Springfield, Mass., returning from California, had brought with him a piece of auriferous quartz about the size of a man's fist. It was accidentally dropped--split open--nail in it. There was a cut-iron nail, size of a six-penny nail, slightly corroded. "It was entirely straight and had a perfect head." Or--California--ages ago, when auriferous quartz was forming--super-carpenter, million of miles or so up in the air--drops a nail. To one not an intermediatist, it would seem incredible that this datum, not only of the damned, but of the lowest of the damned, or of the journalistic caste of the accursed, could merge away with something else damned only by disregard, and backed by what is called "highest scientific authority"-- Communication by Sir David Brewster (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1845-51): That a nail had been found in a block of stone from Kingoodie Quarry, North Britain. The block in which the nail was found was nine inches thick, but as to what part of the quarry it had come from, there is no evidence--except that it could not have been from the surface. The quarry had been worked about twenty years. It consisted of alternate layers of hard stone and a substance called "till." The point of the nail, quite eaten with rust, projected into some "till," upon the surface of the block of stone. The rest of the nail lay upon the surface of the stone to within an inch of the head--that inch of it was embedded in the stone. Although its caste is high, this is a thing profoundly of the damned--sort of a Brahmin as regarded by a Baptist. Its case was stated fairly; Brewster related all circumstances available to him--but there was no discussion at the meeting of the British Association: no explanation was offered-- Nevertheless the thing can be nullified-- But the nullification that we find is as much against orthodoxy in one respect as it is against our own expression that inclusion in quartz or sandstone indicates antiquity--or there would have to be a revision of prevailing dogmas upon quartz and sandstone and age indicated by them, if the opposing data should be accepted. Of course it may be contended by both the orthodox and us heretics that the opposition is only a yarn from a newspaper. By an odd combination, we find our two lost souls that have tried to emerge, chucked back to perdition by one blow: _Pop. Sci. News_, 1884-41: That, according to the _Carson Appeal_, there had been found in a mine, quartz crystals that could have had only 15 years in which to form: that, where a mill had been built, sandstone had been found, when the mill was torn down, that had hardened in 12 years: that in this sandstone was a piece of wood "with a nail in it." _Annals of Scientific Discovery_, 1853-71: That, at the meeting of the British Association, 1853, Sir David Brewster had announced that he had to bring before the meeting an object "of so incredible a nature that nothing short of the strongest evidence was necessary to render the statement at all probable." A crystal lens had been found in the treasure-house at Nineveh. In many of the temples and treasure houses of old civilizations upon this earth have been preserved things that have fallen from the sky--or meteorites. Again we have a Brahmin. This thing is buried alive in the heart of propriety: it is in the British Museum. Carpenter, in _The Microscope and Its Revelations_, gives two drawings of it. Carpenter argues that it is impossible to accept that optical lenses had ever been made by the ancients. Never occurred to him--someone a million miles or so up in the air--looking through his telescope--lens drops out. This does not appeal to Carpenter: he says that this object must have been an ornament. According to Brewster, it was not an ornament, but "a true optical lens." In that case, in ruins of an old civilization upon this earth, has been found an accursed thing that was, acceptably, not a product of any old civilization indigenous to this earth. 10 Early explorers have Florida mixed up with Newfoundland. But the confusion is worse than that still earlier. It arises from simplicity. Very early explorers think that all land westward is one land, India: awareness of other lands as well as India comes as a slow process. I do not now think of things arriving upon this earth from some especial other world. That was my notion when I started to collect our data. Or, as is a commonplace of observation, all intellection begins with the illusion of homogeneity. It's one of Spencer's data: we see homogeneousness in all things distant, or with which we have small acquaintance. Advance from the relatively homogeneous to the relatively heterogeneous is Spencerian Philosophy--like everything else, so-called: not that it was really Spencer's discovery, but was taken from von Baer, who, in turn, was continuous with preceding evolutionary speculation. Our own expression is that all things are acting to advance to the homogeneous, or are trying to localize Homogeneousness. Homogeneousness is an aspect of the Universal, wherein it is a state that does not merge away into something else. We regard homogeneousness as an aspect of positiveness, but it is our acceptance that infinite frustrations of attempts to positivize manifest themselves in infinite heterogeneity: so that though things try to localize homogeneousness they end up in heterogeneity so great that it amounts to infinite dispersion or indistinguishability. So all concepts are little attempted positivenesses, but soon have to give in to compromise, modification, nullification, merging away into indistinguishability--unless, here and there, in the world's history, there may have been a super-dogmatist, who, for only an infinitesimal of time, has been able to hold out against heterogeneity or modification or doubt or "listening to reason," or loss of identity--in which case--instant translation to heaven or the Positive Absolute. Odd thing about Spencer is that he never recognized that "homogeneity," "integration," and "definiteness" are all words for the same state, or the state that we call "positiveness." What we call his mistake is in that he regarded "homogeneousness" as negative. I began with a notion of some one other world, from which objects and substances have fallen to this earth; which had, or which, to less degree, has a tutelary interest in this earth; which is now attempting to communicate with this earth--modifying, because of data which will pile up later, into acceptance that some other world is not attempting but has been, for centuries, in communication with a sect, perhaps, or a secret society, or certain esoteric ones of this earth's inhabitants. I lose a great deal of hypnotic power in not being able to concentrate attention upon some one other world. As I have admitted before I'm intelligent, as contrasted with the orthodox. I haven't the aristocratic disregard of a New York curator or an Eskimo medicine-man. I have to dissipate myself in acceptance of a host of other worlds: size of the moon, some of them: one of them, at least--tremendous thing: we'll take that up later. Vast, amorphous aerial regions, to which such definite words as "worlds" and "planets" seem inapplicable. And artificial constructions that I have called "super-constructions": one of them about the size of Brooklyn, I should say, offhand. And one or more of them wheel-shaped things a goodly number of square miles in area. I think that earlier in this book, before we liberalized into embracing everything that comes along, your indignation, or indigestion would have expressed in the notion that, if this were so, astronomers would have seen these other worlds and regions and vast geometric constructions. You'd have had that notion: you'd have stopped there. But the attempt to stop is saying "enough" to the insatiable. In cosmic punctuation there are no periods: illusion of periods is incomplete view of colons and semi-colons. We can't stop with the notion that if there were such phenomena, astronomers would have seen them. Because of our experience with suppression and disregard, we suspect, before we go into the subject at all, that astronomers have seen them; that navigators and meteorologists have seen them; that individual scientists and other trained observers have seen them many times-- That it is the System that has excluded data of them. As to the Law of Gravitation, and astronomers' formulas, remember that these formulas worked out in the time of Laplace as well as they do now. But there are hundreds of planetary bodies now known that were then not known. So a few hundred worlds more of ours won't make any difference. Laplace knew of about only thirty bodies in this solar system: about six hundred are recognized now-- What are the discoveries of geology and biology to a theologian? His formulas still work out as well as they ever did. If the Law of Gravitation could be stated as a real utterance, it might be a real resistance to us. But we are told only that gravitation is gravitation. Of course to an intermediatist, nothing can be defined except in terms of itself--but even the orthodox, in what seems to me to be the innate premonitions of realness, not founded upon experience, agree that to define a thing in terms of itself is not real definition. It is said that by gravitation is meant the attraction of all things proportionately to mass and inversely as the square of the distance. Mass would mean inter-attraction holding together final particles, if there were final particles. Then, until final particles be discovered, only one term of this expression survives, or mass is attraction. But distance is only extent of mass, unless one holds out for absolute vacuum among planets, a position against which we could bring a host of data. But there is no possible means of expressing that gravitation is anything other than attraction. So there is nothing to resist us but such a phantom as--that gravitation is the gravitation of all gravitations proportionately to gravitation and inversely as the square of gravitation. In a quasi-existence, nothing more sensible than this can be said upon any so-called subject--perhaps there are higher approximations to ultimate sensibleness. Nevertheless we seem to have a feeling that with the System against us we have a kind of resistance here. We'd have felt so formerly, at any rate: I think the Dr. Grays and Prof. Hitchcocks have modified our trustfulness toward indistinguishability. As to the perfection of this System that quasi-opposes us and the infallibility of its mathematics--as if there could be real mathematics in a mode of seeming where twice two are not four--we've been told over and over of their vindication in the discovery of Neptune. I'm afraid that the course we're taking will turn out like every other development. We began humbly, admitting that we're of the damned-- But our eyebrows-- Just a faint flicker in them, or in one of them, every time we hear of the "triumphal discovery of Neptune"--this "monumental achievement of theoretical astronomy," as the text-books call it. The whole trouble is that we've looked it up. The text-books omit this: That, instead of the orbit of Neptune agreeing with the calculations of Adams and Leverrier, it was so different--that Leverrier said that it was not the planet of his calculations. Later it was thought best to say no more upon that subject. The text-books omit this: That, in 1846, everyone who knew a sine from a cosine was out sining and cosining for a planet beyond Uranus. Two of them guessed right. To some minds, even after Leverrier's own rejection of Neptune, the word "guessed" may be objectionable--but, according to Prof. Peirce, of Harvard, the calculations of Adams and Leverrier would have applied quite as well to positions many degrees from the position of Neptune. Or for Prof. Peirce's demonstration that the discovery of Neptune was only a "happy accident," see _Proc. Amer. Acad. Sciences_, 1-65. For references, see Lowell's _Evolution of Worlds_. Or comets: another nebulous resistance to our own notions. As to eclipses, I have notes upon several of them that did not occur upon scheduled time, though with differences only of seconds--and one delightful lost soul, deep-buried, but buried in the ultra-respectable records of the Royal Astronomical Society, upon an eclipse that did not occur at all. That delightful, ultra-sponsored thing of perdition is too good and malicious to be dismissed with passing notice: we'll have him later. Throughout the history of astronomy, every comet that has come back upon predicted time--not that, essentially, there was anything more abstruse about it than is a prediction that you can make of a postman's periodicities tomorrow--was advertised for all it was worth. It's the way reputations are worked up for fortune-tellers by the faithful. The comets that didn't come back--omitted or explained. Or Encke's comet. It came back slower and slower. But the astronomers explained. Be almost absolutely sure of that: they explained. They had it all worked out and formulated and "proved" why that comet was coming back slower and slower--and there the damn thing began coming faster and faster. Halley's comet. Astronomy--"the perfect science, as we astronomers like to call it." (Jacoby.) It's my own notion that if, in a real existence, an astronomer could not tell one longitude from another, he'd be sent back to this purgatory of ours until he could meet that simple requirement. Halley was sent to the Cape of Good Hope to determine its longitude. He got it degrees wrong. He gave to Africa's noble Roman promontory a retroussé twist that would take the pride out of any Kaffir. We hear everlastingly of Halley's comet. It came back--maybe. But, unless we look the matter up in contemporaneous records, we hear nothing of--the Leonids, for instance. By the same methods as those by which Halley's comet was predicted, the Leonids were predicted. November, 1898--no Leonids. It was explained. They had been perturbed. They would appear in November, 1899. November, 1899--November, 1900--no Leonids. My notion of astronomic accuracy: Who could not be a prize marksman, if only his hits be recorded? As to Halley's comet, of 1910--everybody now swears he saw it. He has to perjure himself: otherwise he'd be accused of having no interest in great, inspiring things that he's never given any attention to. Regard this: That there never is a moment when there is not some comet in the sky. Virtually there is no year in which several new comets are not discovered, so plentiful are they. Luminous fleas on a vast black dog--in popular impressions, there is no realization of the extent to which this solar system is flea-bitten. If a comet have not the orbit that astronomers have predicted--perturbed. If--like Halley's comet--it be late--even a year late--perturbed. When a train is an hour late, we have small opinion of the predictions of timetables. When a comet's a year late, all we ask is--that it be explained. We hear of the inflation and arrogance of astronomers. My own acceptance is not that they are imposing upon us: that they are requiting us. For many of us priests no longer function to give us seeming rapport with Perfection, Infallibility--the Positive Absolute. Astronomers have stepped forward to fill a vacancy--with quasi-phantomosity--but, in our acceptance, with a higher approximation to substantiality than had the attenuations that preceded them. I should say, myself, that all that we call progress is not so much response to "urge" as it is response to a hiatus--or if you want something to grow somewhere, dig out everything else in its area. So I have to accept that the positive assurances of astronomers are necessary to us, or the blunderings, evasions and disguises of astronomers would never be tolerated: that, given such latitude as they are permitted to take, they could not be very disastrously mistaken. Suppose the comet called Halley's had not appeared-- Early in 1910, a far more important comet than the anæmic luminosity said to be Halley's, appeared. It was so brilliant that it was visible in daylight. The astronomers would have been saved anyway. If this other comet did not have the predicted orbit--perturbation. If you're going to Coney Island, and predict there'll be a special kind of a pebble on the beach, I don't see how you can disgrace yourself, if some other pebble will do just as well--because the feeble thing said to have been seen in 1910 was no more in accord with the sensational descriptions given out by astronomers in advance than is a pale pebble with a brick-red boulder. I predict that next Wednesday, a large Chinaman, in evening clothes, will cross Broadway, at 42nd Street, at 9 P.M. He doesn't, but a tubercular Jap in a sailor's uniform does cross Broadway, at 35th Street, Friday, at noon. Well, a Jap is a perturbed Chinaman, and clothes are clothes. I remember the terrifying predictions made by the honest and credulous astronomers, who must have been themselves hypnotized, or they could not have hypnotized the rest of us, in 1909. Wills were made. Human life might be swept from this planet. In quasi-existence, which is essentially Hibernian, that would be no reason why wills should not be made. The less excitable of us did expect at least some pretty good fireworks. I have to admit that it is said that, in New York, a light was seen in the sky. It was about as terrifying as the scratch of a match on the seat of some breeches half a mile away. It was not on time. Though I have heard that a faint nebulosity, which I did not see, myself, though I looked when I was told to look, was seen in the sky, it appeared several days after the time predicted. A hypnotized host of imbeciles of us: told to look up at the sky: we did--like a lot of pointers hypnotized by a partridge. The effect: Almost everybody now swears that he saw Halley's comet, and that it was a glorious spectacle. An interesting circumstance here is that seemingly we are trying to discredit astronomers because astronomers oppose us--that's not my impression. We shall be in the Brahmin caste of the hell of the Baptists. Almost all our data, in some regiments of this procession, are observations by astronomers, few of them mere amateur astronomers. It is the System that opposes us. It is the System that is suppressing astronomers. I think we pity them in their captivity. Ours is not malice--in a positive sense. It's chivalry--somewhat. Unhappy astronomers looking out from high towers in which they are imprisoned--we appear upon the horizon. But, as I have said, our data do not relate to some especial other world. I mean very much what a savage upon an ocean island might vaguely think of in his speculations--not upon some other land, but complexes of continents and their phenomena: cities, factories in cities, means of communication-- Now all the other savages would know of a few vessels sailing in their regular routes, passing this island in regularized periodicities. The tendency in these minds would be expression of the universal tendency toward positivism--or Completeness--or conviction that these few regularized vessels constituted all. Now I think of some especial savage who suspects otherwise--because he's very backward and unimaginative and insensible to the beautiful ideals of the others: not piously occupied, like the others, in bowing before impressive-looking sticks of wood; dishonestly taking time for his speculations, while the others are patriotically witch-finding. So the other higher and nobler savages know about the few regularized vessels: know when to expect them; have their periodicities all worked out; just about when vessels will pass, or eclipse each other--explaining that all vagaries were due to atmospheric conditions. They'd come out strong in explaining. You can't read a book upon savages without noting what resolute explainers they are. They'd say that all this mechanism was founded upon the mutual attraction of the vessels--deduced from the fall of a monkey from a palm tree--or, if not that, that devils were pushing the vessels--something of the kind. Storms. Débris, not from these vessels, cast up by the waves. Disregarded. How can one think of something and something else, too? I'm in the state of mind of a savage who might find upon a shore, washed up by the same storm, buoyant parts of a piano and a paddle that was carved by cruder hands than his own: something light and summery from India, and a fur overcoat from Russia--or all science, though approximating wider and wider, is attempt to conceive of India in terms of an ocean island, and of Russia in terms of India so interpreted. Though I am trying to think of Russia and India in world-wide terms, I cannot think that that, or the universalizing of the local, is cosmic purpose. The higher idealist is the positivist who tries to localize the universal, and is in accord with cosmic purpose: the super-dogmatist of a local savage who can hold out, without a flurry of doubt, that a piano washed up on a beach is the trunk of a palm tree that a shark has bitten, leaving his teeth in it. So we fear for the soul of Dr. Gray, because he did not devote his whole life to that one stand that, whether possible or inconceivable, thousands of fishes had been cast from one bucket. So, unfortunately for myself, if salvation be desirable, I look out widely but amorphously, indefinitely and heterogeneously. If I say I conceive of another world that is now in secret communication with certain esoteric inhabitants of this earth, I say I conceive of still other worlds that are trying to establish communication with all the inhabitants of this earth. I fit my notions to the data I find. That is supposed to be the right and logical and scientific thing to do; but it is no way to approximate to form, system, organization. Then I think I conceive of other worlds and vast structures that pass us by, within a few miles, without the slightest desire to communicate, quite as tramp vessels pass many islands without particularizing one from another. Then I think I have data of a vast construction that has often come to this earth, dipped into an ocean, submerged there a while, then going away--Why? I'm not absolutely sure. How would an Eskimo explain a vessel, sending ashore for coal, which is plentiful upon some Arctic beaches, though of unknown use to the natives, then sailing away, with no interest in the natives? A great difficulty in trying to understand vast constructions that show no interest in us: The notion that we must be interesting. I accept that, though we're usually avoided, probably for moral reasons, sometimes this earth has been visited by explorers. I think that the notion that there have been extra-mundane visitors to China, within what we call the historic period, will be only ordinarily absurd, when we come to that datum. I accept that some of the other worlds are of conditions very similar to our own. I think of others that are very different--so that visitors from them could not live here--without artificial adaptations. How some of them could breathe our attenuated air, if they came from a gelatinous atmosphere-- Masks. The masks that have been found in ancient deposits. Most of them are of stone, and are said to have been ceremonial regalia of savages-- But the mask that was found in Sullivan County, Missouri, in 1879 (_American Antiquarian_, 3-336). It is made of iron and silver. 11 One of the damnedest in our whole saturnalia of the accursed-- Because it is hopeless to try to shake off an excommunication only by saying that we're damned by blacker things than ourselves; and that the damned are those who admit they're of the damned. Inertia and hypnosis are too strong for us. We say that: then we go right on admitting we're of the damned. It is only by being more nearly real that we can sweep away the quasi-things that oppose us. Of course, as a whole, we have considerable amorphousness, but we are thinking now of "individual" acceptances. Wideness is an aspect of Universalness or Realness. If our syntheses disregard fewer data than do opposing syntheses--which are often not syntheses at all, but mere consideration of some one circumstance--less widely synthetic things fade away before us. Harmony is an aspect of the Universal, by which we mean Realness. If we approximate more highly to harmony among the parts of an expression and to all available circumstances of an occurrence, the self-contradictors turn hazy. Solidity is an aspect of realness. We pile them up, and we pile them up, or they pass and pass and pass: things that bulk large as they march by, supporting and solidifying one another-- And still, and for regiments to come, hypnosis and inertia rule us-- One of the damnedest of our data: In the _Scientific American_, Sept. 10, 1910, Charles F. Holder writes: "Many years ago, a strange stone resembling a meteorite, fell into the Valley of the Yaqui, Mexico, and the sensational story went from one end to the other of the country that a stone bearing human inscriptions had descended to the earth." The bewildering observation here is Mr. Holder's assertion that this stone did fall. It seems to me that he must mean that it fell by dislodgment from a mountainside into a valley--but we shall see that it was such a marked stone that very unlikely would it have been unknown to dwellers in a valley, if it had been reposing upon a mountainside above them. It may have been carelessness: intent may have been to say that a sensational story of a strange stone said to have fallen, etc. This stone was reported by Major Frederick Burnham, of the British Army. Later Major Burnham revisited it, and Mr. Holder accompanied him, their purpose to decipher the inscriptions upon it, if possible. "This stone was a brown, igneous rock, its longest axis about eight feet, and on the eastern face, which had an angle of about forty-five degrees, was the deep-cut inscription." Mr. Holder says that he recognized familiar Mayan symbols in the inscription. His method was the usual method by which anything can be "identified" as anything else: that is to pick out whatever is agreeable and disregard the rest. He says that he has demonstrated that most of the symbols are Mayan. One of our intermediatist pseudo-principles is that any way of demonstrating anything is just as good a way of demonstrating anything else. By Mr. Holder's method we could demonstrate that we're Mayan--if that should be a source of pride to us. One of the characters upon this stone is a circle within a circle--similar character found by Mr. Holder is a Mayan manuscript. There are two 6's. 6's can be found in Mayan manuscripts. A double scroll. There are dots and there are dashes. Well, then, we, in turn, disregard the circle within a circle and the double scroll and emphasize that 6's occur in this book, and that dots are plentiful, and would be more plentiful if it were customary to use the small "i" for the first personal pronoun--that when it comes to dashes--that's demonstrated: we're Mayan. I suppose the tendency is to feel that we're sneering at some valuable archaeologic work, and that Mr. Holder did make a veritable identification. He writes: "I submitted the photographs to the Field Museum and the Smithsonian and one or two others, and, to my surprise, the reply was that they could make nothing out of it." Our indefinite acceptance, by preponderance of three or four groups of museum-experts against one person, is that a stone bearing inscriptions unassimilable with any known language upon this earth, is said to have fallen from the sky. Another poor wretch of an outcast belonging here is noted in the _Scientific American_, 48-261: that, of an object, or a meteorite, that fell Feb. 16, 1883, near Brescia, Italy, a false report was circulated that one of the fragments bore the impress of a hand. That's all that is findable by me upon this mere gasp of a thing. Intermediatistically, my acceptance is that, though in the course of human history, there have been some notable approximations, there never has been a real liar: that he could not survive in intermediateness, where everything merges away or has its pseudo-base in something else--would be instantly translated to the Negative Absolute. So my acceptance is that, though curtly dismissed, there was something to base upon in this report; that there were unusual markings upon this object. Of course that is not to jump to the conclusion that they were cuneiform characters that looked like finger-prints. Altogether, I think that in some of our past expressions, we must have been very efficient, if the experience of Mr. Symons be typical, so indefinite are we becoming here. Just here we are interested in many things that have been found, especially in the United States, which speak of a civilization, or of many civilizations not indigenous to this earth. One trouble is in trying to decide whether they fell here from the sky, or were left behind by visitors from other worlds. We have a notion that there have been disasters aloft, and that coins have dropped here: that inhabitants of this earth found them or saw them fall, and then made coins imitatively: it may be that coins were showered here by something of a tutelary nature that undertook to advance us from the stage of barter to the use of a medium. If coins should be identified as Roman coins, we've had so much experience with "identifications" that we know a phantom when we see one--but, even so, how could Roman coins have got to North America--far in the interior of North America--or buried under the accumulation of centuries of soil--unless they did drop from--wherever the first Romans came from? Ignatius Donnelly, in _Atlantis_, gives a list of objects that have been found in mounds that are supposed to antedate all European influence in America: lathe-made articles, such as traders--from somewhere--would supply to savages--marks of the lathe said to be unmistakable. Said to be: of course we can't accept that anything is unmistakable. In the _Rept. Smithson. Inst._, 1881-619, there is an account, by Charles C. Jones, of two silver crosses that were found in Georgia. They are skillfully made, highly ornamented crosses, but are not conventional crucifixes: all arms of equal length. Mr. Jones is a good positivist--that De Sota had halted at the "precise" spot where these crosses were found. But the spirit of negativeness that lurks in all things said to be "precise" shows itself in that upon one of these crosses is an inscription that has no meaning in Spanish or any other known, terrestrial language: "IYNKICIDU," according to Mr. Jones. He thinks that this is a name, and that there is an aboriginal ring to it, though I should say, myself, that he was thinking of the far-distant Incas: that the Spanish donor cut on the cross the name of an Indian to whom it was presented. But we look at the inscription ourselves and see that the letters said to be "C" and "D" are turned the wrong way, and that the letter said to be "K" is not only turned the wrong way, but is upside down. It is difficult to accept that the remarkable, the very extensive, copper mines in the region of Lake Superior were ever the works of American aborigines. Despite the astonishing extent of these mines, nothing has ever been found to indicate that the region was ever inhabited by permanent dwellers-- "... not a vestige of a dwelling, a skeleton, or a bone has been found." The Indians have no traditions relating to the mines. (_Amer. Antiquarian_, 25-258.) I think that we've had visitors: that they have come here for copper, for instance. As to other relics of them--but we now come upon frequency of a merger that has not so often appeared before: Fraudulency. Hair called real hair--then there are wigs. Teeth called real teeth--then there are false teeth. Official money--counterfeit money. It's the bane of psychic research. If there be psychic phenomena, there must be fraudulent psychic phenomena. So desperate is the situation here that Carrington argues that, even if Palladino be caught cheating, that is not to say that all her phenomena are fraudulent. My own version is: that nothing indicates anything, in a positive sense, because, in a positive sense, there is nothing to be indicated. Everything that is called true must merge away indistinguishably into something called false. Both are expressions of the same underlying quasiness, and are continuous. Fraudulent antiquarian relics are very common, but they are not more common than are fraudulent paintings. W.S. Forest, _Historical Sketches of Norfolk, Virginia_: That, in September, 1833, when some workmen, near Norfolk, were boring for water, a coin was drawn up from a depth of about 30 feet. It was about the size of an English shilling, but oval--an oval disk, if not a coin. The figures upon it were distinct, and represented "a warrior or hunter and other characters, apparently of Roman origin." The means of exclusion would probably be--men digging a hole--no one else looking: one of them drops a coin into the hole--as to where he got a strange coin, remarkable in shape even--that's disregarded. Up comes the coin--expressions of astonishment from the evil one who had dropped it. However, the antiquarians have missed this coin. I can find no other mention of it. Another coin. Also a little study in the genesis of a prophet. In the _American Antiquarian_, 16-313, is copied a story by a correspondent to the _Detroit News_, of a copper coin about the size of a two-cent piece, said to have been found in a Michigan mound. The Editor says merely that he does not endorse the find. Upon this slender basis, he buds out, in the next number of the _Antiquarian_: "The coin turns out, as we predicted, to be a fraud." You can imagine the scorn of Elijah, or any of the old more nearly real prophets. Or all things are tried by the only kind of jurisprudence we have in quasi-existence: Presumed to be innocent until convicted--but they're guilty. The Editor's reasoning is as phantom-like as my own, or St. Paul's, or Darwin's. The coin is condemned because it came from the same region from which, a few years before, had come pottery that had been called fraudulent. The pottery had been condemned because it was condemnable. _Scientific American_, June 17, 1882: That a farmer, in Cass Co., Ill., had picked up, on his farm, a bronze coin, which was sent to Prof. F.F. Hilder, of St. Louis, who identified it as a coin of Antiochus IV. Inscription said to be in ancient Greek characters: translated as "King Antiochus Epiphanes (Illustrious) the Victorius." Sounds quite definite and convincing--but we have some more translations coming. In the _American Pioneer_, 2-169, are shown two faces of a copper coin, with characters very much like those upon the Grave Creek stone--which, with translations, we'll take up soon. This coin is said to have been found in Connecticut, in 1843. _Records of the Past_, 12-182: That, early in 1913, a coin, said to be a Roman coin, was reported as discovered in an Illinois mound. It was sent to Dr. Emerson, of the Art Institute, of Chicago. His opinion was that the coin is "of the rare mintage of Domitius Domitianus, Emperor in Egypt." As to its discovery in an Illinois mound, Dr. Emerson disclaims responsibility. But what strikes me here is that a joker should not have been satisfied with an ordinary Roman coin. Where did he get a rare coin, and why was it not missed from some collection? I have looked over numismatic journals enough to accept that the whereabouts of every rare coin in anyone's possession is known to coin-collectors. Seems to me nothing left but to call this another "identification." _Proc. Amer. Phil. Soc._, 12-224: That, in July, 1871, a letter was received from Mr. Jacob W. Moffit, of Chillicothe, Ill., enclosing a photograph of a coin, which he said had been brought up, by him, while boring, from a depth of 120 feet. Of course, by conventional scientific standards, such depth has some extraordinary meaning. Palaeontologists, geologists, and archaeologists consider themselves reasonable in arguing ancient origin of the far-buried. We only accept: depth is a pseudo-standard with us; one earthquake could bury a coin of recent mintage 120 feet below the surface. According to a writer in the _Proceedings_, the coin is uniform in thickness, and had never been hammered out by savages--"there are other tokens of the machine shop." But, according to Prof. Leslie, it is an astrologic amulet. "There are upon it the signs of Pisces and Leo." Or, with due disregard, you can find signs of your great-grand-mother, or of the Crusades, or of the Mayans, upon anything that ever came from Chillicothe or from a five and ten cent store. Anything that looks like a cat and a goldfish looks like Leo and Pisces: but, by due suppressions and distortions there's nothing that can't be made to look like a cat and a goldfish. I fear me we're turning a little irritable here. To be damned by slumbering giants and interesting little harlots and clowns who rank high in their profession is at least supportable to our vanity; but, we find that the anthropologists are of the slums of the divine, or of an archaic kindergarten of intellectuality, and it is very unflattering to find a mess of moldy infants sitting in judgment upon us. Prof. Leslie then finds, as arbitrarily as one might find that some joker put the Brooklyn Bridge where it is, that "the piece was placed there as a practical joke, though not by its present owner; and is a modern fabrication, perhaps of the sixteenth century, possibly Hispano-American or French-American origin." It's sheer, brutal attempt to assimilate a thing that may or may not have fallen from the sky, with phenomena admitted by the anthropologic system: or with the early French or Spanish explorers of Illinois. Though it is ridiculous in a positive sense to give reasons, it is more acceptable to attempt reasons more nearly real than opposing reasons. Of course, in his favor, we note that Prof. Leslie qualifies his notions. But his disregards are that there is nothing either French or Spanish about this coin. A legend upon it is said to be "somewhere between Arabic and Phoenician, without being either." Prof. Winchell (_Sparks from a Geologist's Hammer_, p. 170) says of the crude designs upon this coin, which was in his possession--scrawls of an animal and of a warrior, or of a cat and a goldfish, whichever be convenient--that they had been neither stamped nor engraved, but "looked as if etched with an acid." That is a method unknown in numismatics of this earth. As to the crudity of design upon this coin, and something else--that, though the "warrior" may be, by due disregards, either a cat or a goldfish, we have to note that his headdress is typical of the American Indian--could be explained, of course, but for fear that we might be instantly translated to the Positive Absolute, which may not be absolutely desirable, we prefer to have some flaws or negativeness in our own expressions. Data of more than the thrice-accursed: Tablets of stone, with the ten commandments engraved upon them, in Hebrew, said to have been found in mounds in the United States: Masonic emblems said to have been found in mounds in the United States. We're upon the borderline of our acceptances, and we're amorphous in the uncertainties and mergings of our outline. Conventionally, or, with no real reason for so doing, we exclude these things, and then, as grossly and arbitrarily and irrationally--though our attempt is always to approximate away from these negative states--as ever a Kepler, Newton, or Darwin made his selections, without which he could not have seemed to be, at all, because every one of them is now seen to be an illusion, we accept that other lettered things have been found in mounds in the United States. Of course we do what we can to make the selection seem not gross and arbitrary and irrational. Then, if we accept that inscribed things of ancient origin have been found in the United States; that cannot be attributed to any race indigenous to the western hemisphere; that are not in any language ever heard of in the eastern hemisphere--there's nothing to it but to turn non-Euclidian and try to conceive of a third "hemisphere," or to accept that there has been intercourse between the western hemisphere and some other world. But there is a peculiarity to these inscribed objects. They remind me of the records left, by Sir John Franklin, in the Arctic; but, also, of attempts made by relief expeditions to communicate with the Franklin expedition. The lost explorers cached their records--or concealed them conspicuously in mounds. The relief expeditions sent up balloons, from which messages were dropped broadcast. Our data are of things that have been cached, and of things that seem to have been dropped-- Or a Lost Expedition from--Somewhere. Explorers from somewhere, and their inability to return--then, a long, sentimental, persistent attempt, in the spirit of our own Arctic relief-expeditions--at least to establish communication-- What if it may have succeeded? We think of India--the millions of natives who are ruled by a small band of esoterics--only because they receive support and direction from--somewhere else--or from England. In 1838, Mr. A.B. Tomlinson, owner of the great mound at Grave Creek, West Virginia, excavated the mound. He said that, in the presence of witnesses, he had found a small, flat, oval stone--or disk--upon which were engraved alphabetic characters. Col. Whittelsey, an expert in these matters, says that the stone is now "universally regarded by archaeologists as a fraud": that, in his opinion, Mr. Tomlinson had been imposed upon. Avebury, _Prehistoric Times_, p. 271: "I mention it because it has been the subject of much discussion, but it is now generally admitted to be a fraud. It is inscribed with Hebrew characters, but the forger has copied the modern instead of the ancient form of the letters." As I have said, we're as irritable here, under the oppressions of the anthropologists as ever were slaves in the south toward superiorities from "poor white trash." When we finally reverse our relative positions we shall give lowest place to the anthropologists. A Dr. Gray does at least look at a fish before he conceives of a miraculous origin for it. We shall have to submerge Lord Avebury far below him--if we accept that the stone from Grave Creek is generally regarded as a fraud by eminent authorities who did not know it from some other object--or, in general, that so decided an opinion must be the product of either deliberate disregard or ignorance or fatigue. The stone belongs to a class of phenomena that is repulsive to the System. It will not assimilate with the System. Let such an object be heard of by such a systematist as Avebury, and the mere mention of it is as nearly certainly the stimulus to a conventional reaction as is a charged body to an electroscope or a glass of beer to a prohibitionist. It is of the ideals of Science to know one object from another before expressing an opinion upon a thing, but that is not the spirit of universal mechanics: A thing. It is attractive or repulsive. Its conventional reaction follows. Because it is not the stone from Grave Creek that is in Hebrew characters, either ancient or modern: it is a stone from Newark, Ohio, of which the story is told that a forger made this mistake of using modern instead of ancient Hebrew characters. We shall see that the inscription upon the Grave Creek stone is not in Hebrew. Or all things are presumed to be innocent, but are supposed to be guilty--unless they assimilate. Col. Whittelsey (_Western Reserve Historical Tracts, No. 33_) says that the Grave Creek stone was considered a fraud by Wilson, Squires, and Davis. Then he comes to the Congress of Archaeologists at Nancy, France, 1875. It is hard for Col. Whittelsey to admit that, at this meeting, which sounds important, the stone was endorsed. He reminds us of Mr. Symons, and "the man" who "considered" that he saw something. Col. Whittelsey's somewhat tortuous expression is that the finder of the stone "so imposed his views" upon the congress that it pronounced the stone genuine. Also the stone was examined by Schoolcraft. He gave his opinion for genuineness. Or there's only one process, and "see-saw" is one of its aspects. Three or four fat experts on the side against us. We find four or five plump ones on our side. Or all that we call logic and reasoning ends up as sheer preponderance of avoirdupois. Then several philologists came out in favor of genuineness. Some of them translated the inscription. Of course, as we have said, it is our method--or the method of orthodoxy--way in which all conclusions are reached--to have some awfully eminent, or preponderantly plump, authorities with us whenever we can--in this case, however, we feel just a little apprehensive in being caught in such excellently obese, but somewhat negativized, company: Translation by M. Jombard: "Thy orders are laws: thou shinest in impetuous élan and rapid chamois." M. Maurice Schwab: "The chief of Emigration who reached these places (or this island) has fixed these characters forever." M. Oppert: "The grave of one who was assassinated here. May God, to revenge him, strike his murderer, cutting off the hand of his existence." I like the first one best. I have such a vivid impression from it of someone polishing up brass or something, and in an awful hurry. Of course the third is more dramatic--still they're all very good. They are perturbations of one another, I suppose. In Tract 44, Col. Whittelsey returns to the subject. He gives the conclusion of Major De Helward, at the Congress of Luxembourg, 1877: "If Prof. Read and myself are right in the conclusion that the figures are neither of the Runic, Phoenician, Canaanite, Hebrew, Lybian, Celtic, or any other alphabet-language, its importance has been greatly over-rated." Obvious to a child; obvious to any mentality not helplessly subjected to a system: That just therein lies the importance of this object. It is said that an ideal of science is to find out the new--but, unless a thing be of the old, it is "unimportant." "It is not worth while." (Hovey.) Then the inscribed ax, or wedge, which, according to Dr. John C. Evans, in a communication to the American Ethnological Society, was plowed up, near Pemberton, N.J., 1859. The characters upon this ax, or wedge, are strikingly similar to the characters on the Grave Creek stone. Also, with a little disregard here and a little more there, they look like tracks in the snow by someone who's been out celebrating, or like your handwriting, or mine, when we think there's a certain distinction in illegibility. Method of disregard: anything's anything. Dr. Abbott describes this object in the _Report of the Smithsonian Institution_, 1875-260. He says he has no faith in it. All progress is from the outrageous to the commonplace. Or quasi-existence proceeds from rape to the crooning of lullabies. It's been interesting to me to go over various long-established periodicals and note controversies between attempting positivists and then intermediatistic issues. Bold, bad intruders of theories; ruffians with dishonorable intentions--the alarms of Science; her attempts to preserve that which is dearer than life itself--submission--then a fidelity like Mrs. Micawber's. So many of these ruffians, or wandering comedians that were hated, or scorned, pitied, embraced, conventionalized. There's not a notion in this book that has a more frightful, or ridiculous, mien than had the notion of human footprints in rocks, when that now respectabilized ruffian, or clown, was first heard from. It seems bewildering to one whose interests are not scientific that such rows should be raised over such trifles: but the feeling of a systematist toward such an intruder is just about what anyone's would be if a tramp from the street should come in, sit at one's dinner table, and say he belonged there. We know what hypnosis can do: let him insist with all his might that he does belong there, and one begins to suspect that he may be right; that he may have higher perceptions of what's right. The prohibitionists had this worked out very skillfully. So the row that was raised over the stone from Grave Creek--but time and cumulativeness, and the very factor we make so much of--or the power of massed data. There were other reports of inscribed stones, and then, half a century later, some mounds--or caches, as we call them--were opened by the Rev. Mr. Gass, near the city of Davenport. (_American Antiquarian_, 15-73.) Several stone tablets were found. Upon one of them, the letters "TFTOWNS" may easily be made out. In this instance we hear nothing of fraudulency--time, cumulativeness, the power of massed data. The attempt to assimilate this datum is: That the tablet was probably of Mormon origin. Why? Because, at Mendon, Ill., was found a brass plate, upon which were similar characters. Why that? Because that was found "near a house once occupied by a Mormon." In a real existence, a real meteorologist, suspecting that cinders had come from a fire engine--would have asked a fireman. Tablets of Davenport--there's not a record findable that it ever occurred to any antiquarian--to ask a Mormon. Other tablets were found. Upon one of them are two "F's" and two "8's." Also a large tablet, twelve inches by eight to ten inches "with Roman numerals and Arabic." It is said that the figure "8" occurs three times, and the figure or letter "O" seven times. "With these familiar characters are others that resemble ancient alphabets, either Phoenecian or Hebrew." It may be that the discovery of Australia, for instance, will turn out to be less important than the discovery and the meaning of these tablets-- But where will you read of them in anything subsequently published; what antiquarian has ever since tried to understand them, and their presence, and indications of antiquity, in a land that we're told was inhabited only by unlettered savages? These things that are exhumed only to be buried in some other way. Another tablet was found, at Davenport, by Mr. Charles Harrison, president of the American Antiquarian Society. "... 8 and other hieroglyphics are upon this tablet." This time, also, fraud is not mentioned. My own notion is that it is very unsportsmanlike ever to mention fraud. Accept anything. Then explain it your way. Anything that assimilates with one explanation, must have assimilable relations, to some degree, with all other explanations, if all explanations are somewhere continuous. Mormons are lugged in again, but the attempt is faint and helpless--"because general circumstances make it difficult to explain the presence of these tablets." Altogether our phantom resistance is mere attribution to the Mormons, without the slightest attempt to find base for the attribution. We think of messages that were showered upon this earth, and of messages that were cached in mounds upon this earth. The similarity to the Franklin situation is striking. Conceivably centuries from now, objects dropped from relief-expedition-balloons may be found in the Arctic, and conceivably there are still undiscovered caches left by Franklin, in the hope that relief expeditions would find them. It would be as incongruous to attribute these things to the Eskimos as to attribute tablets and lettered stones to the aborigines of America. Some time I shall take up an expression that the queer-shaped mounds upon this earth were built by explorers from Somewhere, unable to get back, designed to attract attention from some other world, and that a vast sword-shaped mound has been discovered upon the moon--Just now we think of lettered things and their two possible significances. A bizarre little lost soul, rescued from one of the morgues of the _American Journal of Science_: An account, sent by a correspondent, to Prof. Silliman, of something that was found in a block of marble, taken November, 1829, from a quarry, near Philadelphia (_Am. J. Sci._, 1-19-361). The block was cut into slabs. By this process, it is said, was exposed an indentation in the stone, about one and a half inches by five-eighths of an inch. A geometric indentation: in it were two definite-looking raised letters, like "I U": only difference is that the corners of the "U" are not rounded, but are right angles. We are told that this block of stone came from a depth of seventy or eighty feet--or that, if acceptable, this lettering was done long, long ago. To some persons, not sated with the commonness of the incredible that has to be accepted, it may seem grotesque to think that an indentation in sand could have tons of other sand piled upon it and hardening into stone, without being pressed out--but the famous Nicaraguan footprints were found in a quarry under eleven strata of solid rock. There was no discussion of this datum. We only take it out for an airing. As to lettered stones that may once upon a time have been showered upon Europe, if we cannot accept that the stones were inscribed by indigenous inhabitants of Europe, many have been found in caves--whence they were carried as curiosities by prehistoric men, or as ornaments, I suppose. About the size and shape of the Grave Creek stone, or disk: "flat and oval and about two inches wide." (Sollas.) Characters painted upon them: found first by M. Piette, in the cave of Mas d'Azil, Ariége. According to Sollas, they are marked in various directions with red and black lines. "But on not a few of them, more complex characters occur, which in a few instances simulate some of the capital letters of the Roman alphabet." In one instance the letters "F E I" accompanied by no other markings to modify them, are as plain as they could be. According to Sollas (_Ancient Hunters_, p. 95) M. Cartailhac has confirmed the observations of Piette, and M. Boule has found additional examples. "They offer one of the darkest problems of prehistoric times." (Sollas.) As to caches in general, I should say that they are made with two purposes: to proclaim and to conceal; or that caches documents are hidden, or covered over, in conspicuous structures; at least, so are designed the cairns in the Arctic. _Trans. N.Y. Acad. of Sciences_, 11-27: That Mr. J.H. Hooper, Bradley Co., Tenn., having come upon a curious stone, in some woods upon his farm, investigated. He dug. He unearthed a long wall. Upon this wall were inscribed many alphabetic characters. "872 characters have been examined, many of them duplicates, and a few imitations of animal forms, the moon, and other objects. Accidental imitations of oriental alphabets are numerous." The part that seems significant: That these letters had been hidden under a layer of cement. And still, in our own heterogeneity, or unwillingness, or inability, to concentrate upon single concepts, we shall--or we sha'n't--accept that, though there may have been a Lost Colony or Lost Expedition from Somewhere, upon this earth, and extra-mundane visitors who could never get back, there have been other extra-mundane visitors, who have gone away again--altogether quite in analogy with the Franklin Expedition and Peary's flittings in the Arctic-- And a wreck that occurred to one group of them-- And the loot that was lost overboard-- The Chinese seals of Ireland. Not the things with the big, wistful eyes that lie on ice, and that are taught to balance objects on their noses--but inscribed stamps, with which to make impressions. _Proc. Roy. Irish Acad._, 1-381: A paper was read by Mr. J. Huband Smith, descriptive of about a dozen Chinese seals that had been found in Ireland. They are all alike: each a cube with an animal seated upon it. "It is said that the inscriptions upon them are of a very ancient class of Chinese characters." The three points that have made a leper and an outcast of this datum--but only in the sense of disregard, because nowhere that I know of is it questioned: Agreement among archaeologists that there were no relations, in the remote past, between China and Ireland: That no other objects, from ancient China--virtually, I suppose--have ever been found in Ireland: The great distances at which these seals have been found apart. After Mr. Smith's investigations--if he did investigate, or do more than record--many more Chinese seals were found in Ireland, and, with one exception, only in Ireland. In 1852, about 60 had been found. Of all archaeologic finds in Ireland, "none is enveloped in greater mystery." (_Chambers' Journal_, 16-364.) According to the writer in _Chambers' Journal_, one of these seals was found in a curiosity shop in London. When questioned, the shopkeeper said that it had come from Ireland. In this instance, if you don't take instinctively to our expression, there is no orthodox explanation for your preference. It is the astonishing scattering of them, over field and forest, that has hushed the explainers. In the _Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy_, 10-171, Dr. Frazer says that they "appear to have been sown broadcast over the country in some strange way that I cannot offer solution of." The struggle for expression of a notion that did not belong to Dr. Frazer's era: "The invariable story of their find is what we might expect if they had been accidentally dropped...." Three were found in Tipperary; six in Cork; three in Down; four in Waterford; all the rest--one or two to a county. But one of these Chinese seals was found in the bed of the River Boyne, near Clonard, Meath, when workmen were raising gravel. That one, at least, had been dropped there. 12 Astronomy. And a watchman looking at half a dozen lanterns, where a street's been torn up. There are gas lights and kerosene lamps and electric lights in the neighborhood: matches flaring, fires in stoves, bonfires, house afire somewhere; lights of automobiles, illuminated signs-- The watchman and his one little system. Ethics. And some young ladies and the dear old professor of a very "select" seminary. Drugs and divorce and rape: venereal diseases, drunkenness, murder-- Excluded. The prim and the precise, or the exact, the homogeneous, the single, the puritanic, the mathematic, the pure, the perfect. We can have illusion of this state--but only by disregarding its infinite denials. It's a drop of milk afloat in acid that's eating it. The positive swamped by the negative. So it is in intermediateness, where only to "be" positive is to generate corresponding and, perhaps, equal negativeness. In our acceptance, it is, in quasi-existence, premonitory, or pre-natal, or pre-awakening consciousness of a real existence. But this consciousness of realness is the greatest resistance to efforts to realize or to become real--because it is feeling that realness has been attained. Our antagonism is not to Science, but to the attitude of the sciences that they have finally realized; or to belief, instead of acceptance; to the insufficiency, which, as we have seen over and over, amounts to paltriness and puerility of scientific dogmas and standards. Or, if several persons start out to Chicago, and get to Buffalo, and one be under the delusion that Buffalo is Chicago, that one will be a resistance to the progress of the others. So astronomy and its seemingly exact, little system-- But data we shall have of round worlds and spindle-shaped worlds, and worlds shaped like a wheel; worlds like titanic pruning hooks; worlds linked together by streaming filaments; solitary worlds, and worlds in hordes: tremendous worlds and tiny worlds: some of them made of material like the material of this earth; and worlds that are geometric super-constructions made of iron and steel-- Or not only fall from the sky of ashes and cinders and coke and charcoal and oily substances that suggest fuel--but the masses of iron that have fallen upon this earth. Wrecks and flotsam and fragments of vast iron constructions-- Or steel. Sooner or later we shall have to take up an expression that fragments of steel have fallen from the sky. If fragments not of iron, but of steel have fallen upon this earth-- But what would a deep-sea fish learn even if a steel plate of a wrecked vessel above him should drop and bump him on the nose? Our submergence in a sea of conventionality of almost impenetrable density. Sometimes I'm a savage who has found something on the beach of his island. Sometimes I'm a deep-sea fish with a sore nose. The greatest of mysteries: Why don't they ever come here, or send here, openly? Of course there's nothing to that mystery if we don't take so seriously the notion--that we must be interesting. It's probably for moral reasons that they stay away--but even so, there must be some degraded ones among them. Or physical reasons: When we can specially take up that subject, one of our leading ideas, or credulities, will be that near approach by another world to this world would be catastrophic: that navigable worlds would avoid proximity; that others that have survived have organized into protective remotenesses, or orbits which approximate to regularity, though by no means to the degree of popular supposition. But the persistence of the notion that we must be interesting. Bugs and germs and things like that: they're interesting to us: some of them are too interesting. Dangers of near approach--nevertheless our own ships that dare not venture close to a rocky shore can send rowboats ashore-- Why not diplomatic relations established between the United States and Cyclorea--which, in our advanced astronomy, is the name of a remarkable wheel-shaped world or super-construction? Why not missionaries sent here openly to convert us from our barbarous prohibitions and other taboos, and to prepare the way for a good trade in ultra-bibles and super-whiskeys; fortunes made in selling us cast-off super-fineries, which we'd take to like an African chief to someone's old silk hat from New York or London? The answer that occurs to me is so simple that it seems immediately acceptable, if we accept that the obvious is the solution of all problems, or if most of our perplexities consist in laboriously and painfully conceiving of the unanswerable, and then looking for answers--using such words as "obvious" and "solution" conventionally-- Or: Would we, if we could, educate and sophisticate pigs, geese, cattle? Would it be wise to establish diplomatic relation with the hen that now functions, satisfied with mere sense of achievement by way of compensation? I think we're property. I should say we belong to something: That once upon a time, this earth was No-man's Land, that other worlds explored and colonized here, and fought among themselves for possession, but that now it's owned by something: That something owns this earth--all others warned off. Nothing in our own times--perhaps--because I am thinking of certain notes I have--has ever appeared upon this earth, from somewhere else, so openly as Columbus landed upon San Salvador, or as Hudson sailed up his river. But as to surreptitious visits to this earth, in recent times, or as to emissaries, perhaps, from other worlds, or voyagers who have shown every indication of intent to evade and avoid, we shall have data as convincing as our data of oil or coal-burning aerial super-constructions. But, in this vast subject, I shall have to do considerable neglecting or disregarding, myself. I don't see how I can, in this book, take up at all the subject of possible use of humanity to some other mode of existence, or the flattering notion that we can possibly be worth something. Pigs, geese, and cattle. First find out that they are owned. Then find out the whyness of it. I suspect that, after all, we're useful--that among contesting claimants, adjustment has occurred, or that something now has a legal right to us, by force, or by having paid out analogues of beads for us to former, more primitive, owners of us--all others warned off--that all this has been known, perhaps for ages, to certain ones upon this earth, a cult or order, members of which function like bellwethers to the rest of us, or as superior slaves or overseers, directing us in accordance with instructions received--from Somewhere else--in our mysterious usefulness. But I accept that, in the past, before proprietorship was established, inhabitants of a host of other worlds have--dropped here, hopped here, wafted, sailed, flown, motored--walked here, for all I know--been pulled here, been pushed; have come singly, have come in enormous numbers; have visited occasionally, have visited periodically for hunting, trading, replenishing harems, mining: have been unable to stay here, have established colonies here, have been lost here; far-advanced peoples, or things, and primitive peoples or whatever they were: white ones, black ones, yellow ones-- I have a very convincing datum that the ancient Britons were blue ones. Of course we are told by conventional anthropologists that they only painted themselves blue, but in our own advanced anthropology, they were veritable blue ones-- _Annals of Philosophy_, 14-51: Note of a blue child born in England. That's atavism. Giants and fairies. We accept them, of course. Or, if we pride ourselves upon being awfully far-advanced, I don't know how to sustain our conceit except by very largely going far back. Science of today--the superstition of tomorrow. Science of tomorrow--the superstition of today. Notice of a stone ax, 17 inches long: 9 inches across broad end. (_Proc. Soc. of Ants. of Scotland_, 1-9-184.) _Amer. Antiquarian_, 18-60: Copper ax from an Ohio mound: 22 inches long; weight 38 pounds. _Amer. Anthropologist_, n.s., 8-229: Stone ax found at Birchwood, Wisconsin--exhibited in the collection of the Missouri Historical Society--found with "the pointed end embedded in the soil"--for all I know, may have dropped there--28 inches long, 14 wide, 11 thick--weight 300 pounds. Or the footprints, in sandstone, near Carson, Nevada--each print 18 to 20 inches long. (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 3-26-139.) These footprints are very clear and well-defined: reproduction of them in the _Journal_--but they assimilate with the System, like sour apples to other systems: so Prof. Marsh, a loyal and unscrupulous systematist, argues: "The size of these footprints and specially the width between the right and left series, are strong evidence that they were not made by men, as has been so generally supposed." So these excluders. Stranglers of Minerva. Desperadoes of disregard. Above all, or below all, the anthropologists. I'm inspired with a new insult--someone offends me: I wish to express almost absolute contempt for him--he's a systematistic anthropologist. Simply to read something of this kind is not so impressive as to see for one's self: if anyone will take the trouble to look up these footprints, as pictured in the _Journal_, he will either agree with Prof. Marsh or feel that to deny them is to indicate a mind as profoundly enslaved by a system as was ever the humble intellect of a medieval monk. The reasoning of this representative phantom of the chosen, or of the spectral appearances who sit in judgment, or condemnation, upon us of the more nearly real: That there never were giants upon this earth, because gigantic footprints are more gigantic than prints made by men who are not giants. We think of giants as occasional visitors to this earth. Of course--Stonehenge, for instance. It may be that, as time goes on, we shall have to admit that there are remains of many tremendous habitations of giants upon this earth, and that their appearances here were more than casual--but their bones--or the absence of their bones-- Except--that, no matter how cheerful and unsuspicious my disposition may be, when I go to the American Museum of Natural History, dark cynicisms arise the moment I come to the fossils--or old bones that have been found upon this earth--gigantic things--that have been reconstructed into terrifying but "proper" dinosaurs--but my uncheerfulness-- The dodo did it. On one of the floors below the fossils, they have a reconstructed dodo. It's frankly a fiction: it's labeled as such--but it's been reconstructed so cleverly and so convincingly-- Fairies. "Fairy crosses." _Harper's Weekly_, 50-715: That, near the point where the Blue Ridge and the Allegheny Mountains unite, north of Patrick County, Virginia, many little stone crosses have been found. A race of tiny beings. They crucified cockroaches. Exquisite beings--but the cruelty of the exquisite. In their diminutive way they were human beings. They crucified. The "fairy crosses," we are told in _Harper's Weekly_, range in weight from one-quarter of an ounce to an ounce: but it is said, in the _Scientific American_, 79-395, that some of them are no larger than the head of a pin. They have been found in two other states, but all in Virginia are strictly localized on and along Bull Mountain. We are reminded of the Chinese seals in Ireland. I suppose they fell there. Some are Roman crosses, some St. Andrew's, some Maltese. This time we are spared contact with the anthropologists and have geologists instead, but I am afraid that the relief to our finer, or more nearly real, sensibilities will not be very great. The geologists were called upon to explain the "fairy crosses." Their response was the usual scientific tropism--"Geologists say that they are crystals." The writer in _Harper's Weekly_ points out that this "hold up," or this anæsthetic, if theoretic science be little but attempt to assuage pangs of the unexplained, fails to account for the localized distributions of these objects--which make me think of both aggregation and separation at the bottom of the sea, if from a wrecked ship, similar objects should fall in large numbers but at different times. But some are Roman crosses, some St. Andrew's, some Maltese. Conceivably there might be a mineral that would have a diversity of geometric forms, at the same time restricted to some expression of the cross, because snowflakes, for instance, have diversity but restriction to the hexagon, but the guilty geologists, cold-blooded as astronomers and chemists and all the other deep-sea fishes--though less profoundly of the pseudo-saved than the wretched anthropologists--disregarded the very datum--that it was wise to disregard: That the "fairy crosses" are not all made of the same material. It's the same old disregard, or it's the same old psycho-tropism, or process of assimilation. Crystals are geometric forms. Crystals are included in the System. So then "fairy crosses" are crystals. But that different minerals should, in a few different regions, be inspired to turn into different forms of the cross--is the kind of resistance that we call less nearly real than our own acceptances. We now come to some "cursed" little things that are of the "lost," but for the "salvation" of which scientific missionaries have done their damnedest. "Pigmy flints." They can't very well be denied. They're lost and well known. "Pigmy flints" are tiny, prehistoric implements. Some of them are a quarter of an inch in size. England, India, France, South Africa--they've been found in many parts of the world--whether showered there or not. They belong high up in the froth of the accursed: they are not denied, and they have not been disregarded; there is an abundant literature upon this subject. One attempt to rationalize them, or assimilate them, or take them into the scientific fold, has been the notion that they were toys of prehistoric children. It sounds reasonable. But, of course, by the reasonable we mean that for which the equally reasonable, but opposing, has not been found out--except that we modify that by saying that, though nothing's finally reasonable, some phenomena have higher approximations to Reasonableness than have others. Against the notion of toys, the higher approximation is that where "pygmy flints" are found, all flints are pygmies--at least so in India, where, when larger implements have been found in the same place, there are separations by strata. (Wilson.) The datum that, just at present, leads me to accept that these flints were made by beings about the size of pickles, is a point brought out by Prof. Wilson (_Rept. National Museum_, 1892-455): Not only that the flints are tiny but that the chipping upon them is "minute." Struggle for expression, in the mind of a 19th-century-ite, of an idea that did not belong to his era: In _Science Gossip_, 1896-36, R.A. Galty says: "So fine is the chipping that to see the workmanship a magnifying glass is necessary." I think that would be absolutely convincing, if there were anything--absolutely anything--either that tiny beings, from pickle to cucumber-stature, made these things, or that ordinary savages made them under magnifying glasses. The idea that we are now going to develop, or perpetrate, is rather intensely of the accursed, or the advanced. It's a lost soul, I admit--or boast--but it fits in. Or, as conventional as ever, our own method is the scientific method of assimilating. It assimilates, if we think of the inhabitants of Elvera-- By the way, I forgot to tell the name of the giant's world: Monstrator. Spindle-shaped world--about 100,000 miles along its major axis--more details to be published later. But our coming inspiration fits in, if we think of the inhabitants of Elvera as having only visited here: having, in hordes as dense as clouds of bats, come here, upon hunting excursions--for mice, I should say: for bees, very likely--or most likely of all, or inevitably, to convert the heathen here--horrified with anyone who would gorge himself with more than a bean at a time; fearful for the souls of beings who would guzzle more than a dewdrop at a time--hordes of tiny missionaries, determined that right should prevail, determining right by their own minutenesses. They must have been missionaries. Only to be is motion to convert or assimilate something else. The idea now is that tiny creatures coming here from their own little world, which may be Eros, though I call it Elvera, would flit from the exquisite to the enormous--gulp of a fair-sized terrestrial animal--half a dozen of them gone and soon digested. One falls into a brook--torn away in a mighty torrent-- Or never anything but conventional, we adopt from Darwin: "The geological records are incomplete." Their flints would survive, but, as to their fragile bodies--one might as well search for prehistoric frost-traceries. A little whirlwind--Elverean carried away a hundred yards--body never found by his companions. They'd mourn for the departed. Conventional emotion to have: they'd mourn. There'd have to be a funeral: there's no getting away from funerals. So I adopt an explanation that I take from the anthropologists: burial in effigy. Perhaps the Elvereans would not come to this earth again until many years later--another distressing occurrence--one little mausoleum for all burials in effigy. London _Times_, July 20, 1836: That, early in July, 1836, some boys were searching for rabbits' burrows in the rocky formation, near Edinburgh, known as Arthur's Seat. In the side of a cliff, they came upon some thin sheets of slate, which they pulled out. Little cave. Seventeen tiny coffins. Three or four inches long. In the coffins were miniature wooden figures. They were dressed differently both in style and material. There were two tiers of eight coffins each, and a third tier begun, with one coffin. The extraordinary datum, which has especially made mystery here: That the coffins had been deposited singly, in the little cave, and at intervals of many years. In the first tier, the coffins were quite decayed, and the wrappings had moldered away. In the second tier, the effects of age had not advanced so far. And the top coffin was quite recent-looking. In the _Proceedings of the Society of Antiquarians of Scotland_, 3-12-460, there is a full account of this find. Three of the coffins and three of the figures are pictured. So Elvera with its downy forests and its microscopic oyster shells--and if the Elvereans be not very far-advanced, they take baths--with sponges the size of pin heads-- Or that catastrophes have occurred: that fragments of Elvera have fallen to this earth: In _Popular Science_, 20-83, Francis Bingham, writing of the corals and sponges and shells and crinoids that Dr. Hahn had asserted that he had found in meteorites, says, judging by the photographs of them, that their "notable peculiarity" is their "extreme smallness." The corals, for instance, are about one-twentieth the size of terrestrial corals. "They represent a veritable pygmy animal world," says Bingham. The inhabitants of Monstrator and Elvera were primitives, I think, at the time of their occasional visits to this earth--though, of course, in a quasi-existence, anything that we semi-phantoms call evidence of anything may be just as good evidence of anything else. Logicians and detectives and jurymen and suspicious wives and members of the Royal Astronomic Society recognize this indeterminateness, but have the delusion that in the method of agreement there is final, or real evidence. The method is good enough for an "existence" that is only semi-real, but also it is the method of reasoning by which witches were burned, and by which ghosts have been feared. I'd not like to be so unadvanced as to deny witches and ghosts, but I do think that there never have been witches and ghosts like those of popular supposition. But stories of them have been supported by astonishing fabrications of details and of different accounts in agreement. So, if a giant left impressions of his bare feet in the ground, that is not to say that he was a primitive--bulk of culture out taking the Kneipp cure. So, if Stonehenge is a large, but only roughly geometric construction, the inattention to details by its builders--signifies anything you please--ambitious dwarfs or giants--if giants, that they were little more than cave men, or that they were post-impressionist architects from a very far-advanced civilization. If there are other worlds, there are tutelary worlds--or that Kepler, for instance, could not have been absolutely wrong: that his notion of an angel assigned to push along and guide each planet may not be very acceptable, but that, abstractedly, or in the notion of a tutelary relation, we may find acceptance. Only to be is to be tutelary. Our general expression: That "everything" in Intermediateness is not a thing, but is an endeavor to become something--by breaking away from its continuity, or merging away, with all other phenomena--is an attempt to break away from the very essence of a relative existence and become absolute--if it have not surrendered to, or become part of, some higher attempt: That to this process there are two aspects: Attraction, or the spirit of everything to assimilate all other things--if it have not given in and subordinated to--or have not been assimilated by--some higher attempted system, unity, organization, entity, harmony, equilibrium-- And repulsion, or the attempt of everything to exclude or disregard the unassimilable. Universality of the process: Anything conceivable: A tree. It is doing all it can to assimilate substances of the soil and substances of the air, and sunshine, too, into tree-substance: obversely it is rejecting or excluding or disregarding that which it cannot assimilate. Cow grazing, pig rooting, tiger stalking: planets trying, or acting, to capture comets; rag pickers and the Christian religion, and a cat down headfirst in a garbage can; nations fighting for more territory, sciences correlating the data they can, trust magnates organizing, chorus girl out for a little late supper--all of them stopped somewhere by the unassimilable. Chorus girl and the broiled lobster. If she eats not shell and all she represents universal failure to positivize. Also, if she does she represents universal failure to positivize: her ensuing disorders will translate her to the Negative Absolute. Or Science and some of our cursed hard-shelled data. One speaks of the tutelarian as if it were something distinct in itself. So one speaks of a tree, a saint, a barrel of pork, the Rocky Mountains. One speaks of missionaries, as if they were positively different, or had identity of their own, or were a species by themselves. To the Intermediatist, everything that seems to have identity is only attempted identity, and every species is continuous with all other species, or that which is called the specific is only emphasis upon some aspect of the general. If there are cats, they're only emphasis upon universal felinity. There is nothing that does not partake of that of which the missionary, or the tutelary, is the special. Every conversation is a conflict of missionaries, each trying to convert the other, to assimilate, or to make the other similar to himself. If no progress be made, mutual repulsion will follow. If other worlds have ever in the past had relations with this earth, they were attempted positivizations: to extend themselves, by colonies, upon this earth; to convert, or assimilate, indigenous inhabitants of this earth. Or parent-worlds and their colonies here-- Super-Romanimus-- Or where the first Romans came from. It's as good as the Romulus and Remus story. Super-Israelimus-- Or that, despite modern reasoning upon this subject, there was once something that was super-parental or tutelary to early orientals. Azuria, which was tutelary to the early Britons: Azuria, whence came the blue Britons, whose descendants gradually diluting, like blueing in a wash-tub, where a faucet's turned on, have been most emphasized of sub-tutelarians, or assimilators ever since. Worlds that were once tutelarian worlds--before this earth became sole property of one of them--their attempts to convert or assimilate--but then the state that comes to all things in their missionary-frustrations--unacceptance by all stomachs of some things; rejection by all societies of some units; glaciers that sort over and cast out stones-- Repulsion. Wrath of the baffled missionary. There is no other wrath. All repulsion is reaction to the unassimilable. So then the wrath of Azuria-- Because surrounding peoples of this earth would not assimilate with her own colonists in the part of the earth that we now call England. I don't know that there has ever been more nearly just, reasonable, or logical wrath, in this earth's history--if there is no other wrath. The wrath of Azuria, because the other peoples of this earth would not turn blue to suit her. History is a department of human delusion that interests us. We are able to give a little advancement to history. In the vitrified forts of a few parts of Europe, we find data that the Humes and Gibbons have disregarded. The vitrified forts surrounding England, but not in England. The vitrified forts of Scotland, Ireland, Brittany, and Bohemia. Or that, once upon a time, with electric blasts, Azuria tried to swipe this earth clear of the peoples who resisted her. The vast blue bulk of Azuria appeared in the sky. Clouds turned green. The sun was formless and purple in the vibrations of wrath that were emanating from Azuria. The whitish, or yellowish, or brownish peoples of Scotland, Ireland, Brittany, and Bohemia fled to hilltops and built forts. In a real existence, hilltops, or easiest accessibility to an aerial enemy, would be the last choice in refuges. But here, in quasi-existence, if we're accustomed to run to hilltops, in times of danger, we run to them just the same, even with danger closest to hilltops. Very common in quasi-existence: attempt to escape by running closer to the pursuing. They built forts, or already had forts, on hilltops. Something poured electricity upon them. The stones of these forts exist to this day, vitrified, or melted and turned to glass. The archaeologists have jumped from one conclusion to another, like the "rapid chamois" we read of a while ago, to account for vitrified forts, always restricted by the commandment that unless their conclusions conformed to such tenets as Exclusionism, of the System, they would be excommunicated. So archaeologists, in their medieval dread of excommunication, have tried to explain vitrified forts in terms of terrestrial experience. We find in their insufficiencies the same old assimilating of all that could be assimilated, and disregard for the unassimilable, conventionalizing into the explanation that vitrified forts were made by prehistoric peoples who built vast fires--often remote from wood-supply--to melt externally, and to cement together, the stones of their constructions. But negativeness always: so within itself a science can never be homogeneous or unified or harmonious. So Miss Russel, in the _Journal of the B.A.A._, has pointed out that it is seldom that single stones, to say nothing of long walls, of large houses that are burned to the ground, are vitrified. If we pay a little attention to this subject, ourselves, before starting to write upon it, which is one of the ways of being more nearly real than oppositions so far encountered by us, we find: That the stones of these forts are vitrified in no reference to cementing them: that they are cemented here and there, in streaks, as if special blasts had struck, or played, upon them. Then one thinks of lightning? Once upon a time something melted, in streaks, the stones of forts on the tops of hills in Scotland, Ireland, Brittany, and Bohemia. Lightning selects the isolated and conspicuous. But some of the vitrified forts are not upon tops of hills: some are very inconspicuous: their walls too are vitrified in streaks. Something once had effect, similar to lightning, upon forts, mostly on hills, in Scotland, Ireland, Brittany, and Bohemia. But upon hills, all over the rest of the world, are remains of forts that are not vitrified. There is only one crime, in the local sense, and that is not to turn blue, if the gods are blue: but, in the universal sense, the one crime is not to turn the gods themselves green, if you're green. 13 One of the most extraordinary of phenomena, or alleged phenomena, of psychic research, or alleged research--if in quasi-existence there never has been real research, but only approximations to research that merge away, or that are continuous with, prejudice and convenience-- "Stone-throwing." It's attributed to poltergeists. They're mischievous spirits. Poltergeists do not assimilate with our own present quasi-system, which is an attempt to correlate denied or disregarded data as phenomena of extra-telluric forces, expressed in physical terms. Therefore I regard poltergeists as evil or false or discordant or absurd--names that we give to various degrees or aspects of the unassimilable, or that which resists attempts to organize, harmonize, systematize, or, in short, to positivize--names that we give to our recognitions of the negative state. I don't care to deny poltergeists, because I suspect that later, when we're more enlightened, or when we widen the range of our credulities, or take on more of that increase of ignorance that is called knowledge, poltergeists may become assimilable. Then they'll be as reasonable as trees. By reasonableness I mean that which assimilates with a dominant force, or system, or a major body of thought--which is, itself, of course, hypnosis and delusion--developing, however, in our acceptance, to higher and higher approximations to realness. The poltergeists are now evil or absurd to me, proportionately to their present unassimilableness, compounded, however, with the factor of their possible future assimilableness. We lug in the poltergeists, because some of our own data, or alleged data, merge away indistinguishably with data, or alleged data, of them: Instances of stones that have been thrown, or that have fallen, upon a small area, from an unseen and undetectable source. London _Times_, April 27, 1872: "From 4 o'clock, Thursday afternoon, until half past eleven, Thursday night, the houses, 56 and 58 Reverdy Road, Bermondsey, were assailed with stones and other missiles coming from an unseen quarter. Two children were injured, every window broken, and several articles of furniture were destroyed. Although there was a strong body of policemen scattered in the neighborhood, they could not trace the direction whence the stones were thrown." "Other missiles" make a complication here. But if the expression means tin cans and old shoes, and if we accept that the direction could not be traced because it never occurred to anyone to look upward--why, we've lost a good deal of our provincialism by this time. London _Times_, Sept. 16, 1841: That, in the home of Mrs. Charton, at Sutton Courthouse, Sutton Lane, Chiswick, windows had been broken "by some unseen agent." Every attempt to detect the perpetrator failed. The mansion was detached and surrounded by high walls. No other building was near it. The police were called. Two constables, assisted by members of the household, guarded the house, but the windows continued to be broken "both in front and behind the house." Or the floating islands that are often stationary in the Super-Sargasso Sea; and atmospheric disturbances that sometimes affect them, and bring things down within small areas, upon this earth, from temporarily stationary sources. Super-Sargasso Sea and the beaches of its floating islands from which I think, or at least accept, pebbles have fallen: Wolverhampton, England, June, 1860--violent storm--fall of so many little black pebbles that they were cleared away by shoveling (_La Sci. Pour Tous_, 5-264); great number of small black stones that fell at Birmingham, England, August, 1858--violent storm--said to be similar to some basalt a few leagues from Birmingham (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1864-37); pebbles described as "common water-worn pebbles" that fell at Palestine, Texas, July 6, 1888--"of a formation not found near Palestine" (W.H. Perry, Sergeant, Signal Corps, _Monthly Weather Review_, July, 1888); round, smooth pebbles at Kandahor, 1834 (_Am. J. Sci._, 1-26-161); "a number of stones of peculiar formation and shapes, unknown in this neighborhood, fell in a tornado at Hillsboro, Ill., May 18, 1883." (_Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1883.) Pebbles from aerial beaches and terrestrial pebbles as products of whirlwinds, so merge in these instances that, though it's interesting to hear of things of peculiar shape that have fallen from the sky, it seems best to pay little attention here, and to find phenomena of the Super-Sargasso Sea remote from the merger: To this requirement we have three adaptations: Pebbles that fell where no whirlwind to which to attribute them could be learned of: Pebbles which fell in hail so large that incredibly could that hail have been formed in this earth's atmosphere: Pebbles which fell and were, long afterward, followed by more pebbles, as if from some aerial, stationary source, in the same place. In September, 1898, there was a story in a New York newspaper, of lightning--or an appearance of luminosity?--in Jamaica--something had struck a tree: near the tree were found some small pebbles. It was said that the pebbles had fallen from the sky, with the lightning. But the insult to orthodoxy was that they were not angular fragments such as might have been broken from a stony meteorite: that they were "water-worn pebbles." In the geographical vagueness of a mainland, the explanation "up from one place and down in another" is always good, and is never overworked, until the instances are massed as they are in this book: but, upon this occasion, in the relatively small area of Jamaica, there was no whirlwind findable--however "there in the first place" bobs up. _Monthly Weather Review_, August, 1898-363: That the government meteorologist had investigated: had reported that a tree had been struck by lightning, and that small water-worn pebbles had been found near the tree: but that similar pebbles could be found all over Jamaica. _Monthly Weather Review_, September, 1915-446: Prof. Fassig gives an account of a fall of hail that occurred in Maryland, June 22, 1915: hailstones the size of baseballs "not at all uncommon." "An interesting, but unconfirmed, account stated that small pebbles were found at the center of some of the larger hail gathered at Annapolis. The young man who related the story offered to produce the pebbles, but has not done so." A footnote: "Since writing this, the author states that he has received some of the pebbles." When a young man "produces" pebbles, that's as convincing as anything else I've ever heard of, though no more convincing than, if having told of ham sandwiches falling from the sky, he should "produce" ham sandwiches. If this "reluctance" be admitted by us, we correlate it with a datum reported by a Weather Bureau observer, signifying that, whether the pebbles had been somewhere aloft a long time or not, some of the hailstones that fell with them, had been. The datum is that some of these hailstones were composed of from twenty to twenty-five layers alternately of clear ice and snow-ice. In orthodox terms I argue that a fair-sized hailstone falls from the clouds with velocity sufficient to warm it so that it would not take on even one layer of ice. To put on twenty layers of ice, I conceive of something that had not fallen at all, but had rolled somewhere, at a leisurely rate, for a long time. We now have a commonplace datum that is familiar in two respects: Little, symmetric objects of metal that fell at Orenburg, Russia, September, 1824 (_Phil. Mag._, 4-8-463). A second fall of these objects, at Orenburg, Russia, Jan. 25, 1825 (_Quar. Jour. Roy. Inst._, 1828-1-447). I now think of the disk of Tarbes, but when first I came upon these data I was impressed only with recurrence, because the objects of Orenburg were described as crystals of pyrites, or sulphate of iron. I had no notion of metallic objects that might have been shaped or molded by means other than crystallization, until I came to Arago's account of these occurrences (_OEuvres_, 11-644). Here the analysis gives 70 per cent. red oxide of iron, and sulphur and loss by ignition 5 per cent. It seems to me acceptable that iron with considerably less than 5 per cent. sulphur in it is not iron pyrites--then little, rusty iron objects, shaped by some other means, have fallen, four months apart, at the same place. M. Arago expresses astonishment at this phenomenon of recurrence so familiar to us. Altogether, I find opening before us, vistas of heresies to which I, for one, must shut my eyes. I have always been in sympathy with the dogmatists and exclusionists: that is plain in our opening lines: that to seem to be is falsely and arbitrarily and dogmatically to exclude. It is only that exclusionists who are good in the nineteenth century are evil in the twentieth century. Constantly we feel a merging away into infinitude; but that this book shall approximate to form, or that our data shall approximate to organization, or that we shall approximate to intelligibility, we have to call ourselves back constantly from wandering off into infinitude. The thing that we do, however, is to make our own outline, or the difference between what we include and what we exclude, vague. The crux here, and the limit beyond which we may not go--very much--is: Acceptance that there is a region that we call the Super-Sargasso Sea--not yet fully accepted, but a provisional position that has received a great deal of support-- But is it a part of this earth, and does it revolve with and over this earth-- Or does it flatly overlie this earth, not revolving with and over this earth-- That this earth does not revolve, and is not round, or roundish, at all, but is continuous with the rest of its system, so that, if one could break away from the traditions of the geographers, one might walk and walk, and come to Mars, and then find Mars continuous with Jupiter? I suppose some day such queries will sound absurd--the thing will be so obvious-- Because it is very difficult for me to conceive of little metallic objects hanging precisely over a small town in Russia, for four months, if revolving, unattached, with a revolving earth-- It may be that something aimed at that town, and then later took another shot. These are speculations that seem to me to be evil relatively to these early years in the twentieth century-- Just now, I accept that this earth is--not round, of course: that is very old-fashioned--but roundish, or, at least, that it has what is called form of its own, and does revolve upon its axis, and in an orbit around the sun. I only accept these old traditional notions-- And that above it are regions of suspension that revolve with it: from which objects fall, by disturbances of various kinds, and then, later, fall again, in the same place: _Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1884-134: Report from the Signal Service observer, at Bismarck, Dakota: That, at 9 o'clock, in the evening of May 22, 1884, sharp sounds were heard throughout the city, caused by a fall of flinty stones striking against windows. Fifteen hours later another fall of flinty stones occurred at Bismarck. There is no report of stones having fallen anywhere else. This is a thing of the ultra-damned. All Editors of scientific publications read the _Monthly Weather Review_ and frequently copy from it. The noise made by the stones of Bismarck, rattling against those windows, may be in a language that aviators will some day interpret: but it was a noise entirely surrounded by silences. Of this ultra-damned thing, there is no mention, findable by me, in any other publication. The size of some hailstones has worried many meteorologists--but not text-book meteorologists. I know of no more serene occupation than that of writing text-books--though writing for the _War Cry_, of the Salvation Army, may be equally unadventurous. In the drowsy tranquillity of a text-book, we easily and unintelligently read of dust particles around which icy rain forms, hailstones, in their fall, then increasing by accretion--but in the meteorological journals, we read often of air-spaces nucleating hailstones-- But it's the size of the things. Dip a marble in icy water. Dip and dip and dip it. If you're a resolute dipper, you will, after a while, have an object the size of a baseball--but I think a thing could fall from the moon in that length of time. Also the strata of them. The Maryland hailstones are unusual, but a dozen strata have often been counted. Ferrel gives an instance of thirteen strata. Such considerations led Prof. Schwedoff to argue that some hailstones are not, and cannot, be generated in this earth's atmosphere--that they come from somewhere else. Now, in a relative existence, nothing can of itself be either attractive or repulsive: its effects are functions of its associations or implications. Many of our data have been taken from very conservative scientific sources: it was not until their discordant implications, or irreconcilabilities with the System, were perceived, that excommunication was pronounced against them. Prof. Schwedoff's paper was read before the British Association (_Rept. of 1882_, p. 453). The implication, and the repulsiveness of the implication to the snug and tight little exclusionists of 1882--though we hold out that they were functioning well and ably relatively to 1882-- That there is water--oceans or lakes and ponds, or rivers of it--that there is water away from, and yet not far-remote from, this earth's atmosphere and gravitation-- The pain of it: That the snug little system of 1882 would be ousted from its reposefulness-- A whole new science to learn: The Science of Super-Geography-- And Science is a turtle that says that its own shell encloses all things. So the members of the British Association. To some of them Prof. Schwedoff's ideas were like slaps on the back of an environment-denying turtle: to some of them his heresy was like an offering of meat, raw and dripping, to milk-fed lambs. Some of them bleated like lambs, and some of them turled like turtles. We used to crucify, but now we ridicule: or, in the loss of vigor of all progress, the spike has etherealized into the laugh. Sir William Thomson ridiculed the heresy, with the phantomosities of his era: That all bodies, such as hailstones, if away from this earth's atmosphere, would have to move at planetary velocity--which would be positively reasonable if the pronouncements of St. Isaac were anything but articles of faith--that a hailstone falling through this earth's atmosphere, with planetary velocity, would perform 13,000 times as much work as would raise an equal weight of water one degree centigrade, and therefore never fall as a hailstone at all; be more than melted--super-volatalized-- These turls and these bleats of pedantry--though we insist that, relatively to 1882, these turls and bleats should be regarded as respectfully as we regard rag dolls that keep infants occupied and noiseless--it is the survival of rag dolls into maturity that we object to--so these pious and naïve ones who believed that 13,000 times something could have--that is, in quasi-existence--an exact and calculable resultant, whereas there is--in quasi-existence--nothing that can, except by delusion and convenience, be called a unit, in the first place--whose devotions to St. Isaac required blind belief in formulas of falling bodies-- Against data that were piling up, in their own time, of slow-falling meteorites; "milk warm" ones admitted even by Farrington and Merrill; at least one icy meteorite nowhere denied by the present orthodoxy, a datum as accessible to Thomson, in 1882, as it is now to us, because it was an occurrence of 1860. Beans and needles and tacks and a magnet. Needles and tacks adhere to and systematize relatively to a magnet, but, if some beans, too, be caught up, they are irreconcilables to this system and drop right out of it. A member of the Salvation Army may hear over and over data that seem so memorable to an evolutionist. It seems remarkable that they do not influence him--one finds that he cannot remember them. It is incredible that Sir William Thomson had never heard of slow-falling, cold meteorites. It is simply that he had no power to remember such irreconcilabilities. And then Mr. Symons again. Mr. Symons was a man who probably did more for the science of meteorology than did any other man of his time: therefore he probably did more to hold back the science of meteorology than did any other man of his time. In _Nature_, 41-135, Mr. Symons says that Prof. Schwedoff's ideas are "very droll." I think that even more amusing is our own acceptance that, not very far above this earth's surface, is a region that will be the subject of a whole new science--super-geography--with which we shall immortalize ourselves in the resentments of the schoolboys of the future-- Pebbles and fragments of meteors and things from Mars and Jupiter and Azuria: wedges, delayed messages, cannon balls, bricks, nails, coal and coke and charcoal and offensive old cargoes--things that coat in ice in some regions and things that get into areas so warm that they putrefy--or that there are all the climates of geography in super-geography. I shall have to accept that, floating in the sky of this earth, there often are fields of ice as extensive as those on the Arctic Ocean--volumes of water in which are many fishes and frogs--tracts of land covered with caterpillars-- Aviators of the future. They fly up and up. Then they get out and walk. The fishing's good: the bait's right there. They find messages from other worlds--and within three weeks there's a big trade worked up in forged messages. Sometime I shall write a guide book to the Super-Sargasso Sea, for aviators, but just at present there wouldn't be much call for it. We now have more of our expression upon hail as a concomitant, or more data of things that have fallen from the sky, with hail. In general, the expression is: These things may have been raised from some other part of the earth's surface, in whirlwinds, or may not have fallen, and may have been upon the ground, in the first place--but were the hailstones found with them, raised from some other part of the earth's surface, or were the hailstones upon the ground, in the first place? As I said before, this expression is meaningless as to a few instances; it is reasonable to think of some coincidence between the fall of hail and the fall of other things: but, inasmuch as there have been a good many instances,--we begin to suspect that this is not so much a book we're writing as a sanitarium for overworked coincidences. If not conceivably could very large hailstones and lumps of ice form in this earth's atmosphere, and so then had to come from external regions, then other things in or accompanying very large hailstones and lumps of ice came from external regions--which worries us a little: we may be instantly translated to the Positive Absolute. _Cosmos_, 13-120, quotes a Virginia newspaper, that fishes said to have been catfishes, a foot long, some of them, had fallen, in 1853, at Norfolk, Virginia, with hail. Vegetable débris, not only nuclear, but frozen upon the surfaces of large hailstones, at Toulouse, France, July 28, 1874. (_La Science Pour Tous_, 1874-270.) Description of a storm, at Pontiac, Canada, July 11, 1864, in which it is said that it was not hailstones that fell, but "pieces of ice, from half an inch to over two inches in diameter" (_Canadian Naturalist_, 2-1-308): "But the most extraordinary thing is that a respectable farmer, of undoubted veracity, says he picked up a piece of hail, or ice, in the center of which was a small green frog." Storm at Dubuque, Iowa, June 16, 1882, in which fell hailstones and pieces of ice (_Monthly Weather Review_, June, 1882): "The foreman of the Novelty Iron Works, of this city, states that in two large hailstones melted by him were found small living frogs." But the pieces of ice that fell upon this occasion had a peculiarity that indicates--though by as bizarre an indication as any we've had yet--that they had been for a long time motionless or floating somewhere. We'll take that up soon. _Living Age_, 52-186: That, June 30, 1841, fishes, one of which was ten inches long, fell at Boston; that, eight days later, fishes and ice fell at Derby. In Timb's _Year Book_, 1842-275, it is said that, at Derby, the fishes had fallen in enormous numbers; from half an inch to two inches long, and some considerably larger. In the _Athenæum_, 1841-542, copied from the Sheffield _Patriot_, it is said that one of the fishes weighed three ounces. In several accounts, it is said that, with the fishes, fell many small frogs and "pieces of half-melted ice." We are told that the frogs and the fishes had been raised from some other part of the earth's surface, in a whirlwind; no whirlwind specified; nothing said as to what part of the earth's surface comes ice, in the month of July--interests us that the ice is described as "half-melted." In the London _Times_, July 15, 1841, it is said that the fishes were sticklebacks; that they had fallen with ice and small frogs, many of which had survived the fall. We note that, at Dunfermline, three months later (Oct. 7, 1841) fell many fishes, several inches in length, in a thunderstorm. (London _Times_, Oct. 12, 1841.) Hailstones, we don't care so much about. The matter of stratification seems significant, but we think more of the fall of lumps of ice from the sky, as possible data of the Super-Sargasso Sea: Lumps of ice, a foot in circumference, Derbyshire, England, May 12, 1811 (_Annual Register_, 1811-54); cuboidal mass, six inches in diameter, that fell at Birmingham, 26 days later (Thomson, _Intro. to Meteorology_, p. 179); size of pumpkins, Bangalore, India, May 22, 1851 (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1855-35); masses of ice of a pound and a half each, New Hampshire, Aug. 13, 1851 (Lummis, _Meteorology_, p. 129); masses of ice, size of a man's head, in the Delphos tornado (Ferrel, _Popular Treatise_, p. 428); large as a man's hand, killing thousands of sheep, Texas, May 3, 1877 (_Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1877); "pieces of ice so large that they could not be grasped in one hand," in a tornado, in Colorado, June 24, 1877 (_Monthly Weather Review_, June, 1877); lumps of ice four and a half inches long, Richmond, England, Aug. 2, 1879 (_Symons' Met. Mag._, 14-100); mass of ice, 21 inches in circumference that fell with hail, Iowa, June, 1881 (_Monthly Weather Review_, June, 1881); "pieces of ice" eight inches long, and an inch and a half thick, Davenport, Iowa, Aug. 30, 1882 (_Monthly Weather Review_, Aug., 1882); lump of ice size of a brick; weight two pounds, Chicago, July 12, 1883 (_Monthly Weather Review_, July, 1883); lumps of ice that weighed one pound and a half each, India, May (?), 1888 (_Nature_, 37-42); lump of ice weighing four pounds, Texas, Dec. 6, 1893 (_Sc. Am._, 68-58); lumps of ice one pound in weight, Nov. 14, 1901, in a tornado, Victoria (_Meteorology of Australia_, p. 34). Of course it is our acceptance that these masses not only accompanied tornadoes, but were brought down to this earth by tornadoes. Flammarion, _The Atmosphere_, p. 34: Block of ice, weighing four and a half pounds that fell at Cazorta, Spain, June 15, 1829; block of ice, weighing eleven pounds, at Cette, France, October, 1844; mass of ice three feet long, three feet wide, and more than two feet thick, that fell, in a storm, in Hungary, May 8, 1802. _Scientific American_, 47-119: That, according to the _Salina Journal_, a mass of ice weighing about 80 pounds had fallen from the sky, near Salina, Kansas, August, 1882. We are told that Mr. W.J. Hagler, the North Santa Fé merchant became possessor of it, and packed it in sawdust in his store. London _Times_, April 7, 1860: That, upon the 16th of March, 1860, in a snowstorm, in Upper Wasdale, blocks of ice, so large that at a distance they looked like a flock of sheep, had fallen. _Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1851-32: That a mass of ice about a cubic yard in size had fallen at Candeish, India, 1828. Against these data, though, so far as I know, so many of them have never been assembled together before, there is a silence upon the part of scientific men that is unusual. Our Super-Sargasso Sea may not be an unavoidable conclusion, but arrival upon this earth of ice from external regions does seem to be--except that there must be, be it ever so faint, a merger. It is in the notion that these masses of ice are only congealed hailstones. We have data against this notion, as applied to all our instances, but the explanation has been offered, and, it seems to me, may apply in some instances. In the _Bull. Soc. Astro. de France_, 20-245, it is said of blocks of ice the size of decanters that had fallen at Tunis that they were only masses of congealed hailstones. London _Times_, Aug. 4, 1857. That a block of ice, described as "pure" ice, weighing 25 pounds, had been found in the meadow of Mr. Warner, of Cricklewood. There had been a storm the day before. As in some of our other instances, no one had seen this object fall from the sky. It was found after the storm: that's all that can be said about it. Letter from Capt. Blakiston, communicated by Gen. Sabine, to the Royal Society (_London Roy. Soc. Proc._, 10-468): That, Jan. 14, 1860, in a thunderstorm, pieces of ice had fallen upon Capt. Blakiston's vessel--that it was not hail. "It was not hail, but irregular-shaped pieces of solid ice of different dimensions, up to the size of half a brick." According to the _Advertiser-Scotsman_, quoted by the Edinburgh _New Philosophical Magazine_, 47-371, an irregular-shaped mass of ice fell at Ord, Scotland, August, 1849, after "an extraordinary peal of thunder." It is said that this was homogeneous ice, except in a small part, which looked like congealed hailstones. The mass was about 20 feet in circumference. The story, as told in the London _Times_, Aug. 14, 1849, is that, upon the evening of the 13th of August, 1849, after a loud peal of thunder, a mass of ice said to have been 20 feet in circumference, had fallen upon the estate of Mr. Moffat, of Balvullich, Ross-shire. It is said that this object fell alone, or without hailstones. Altogether, though it is not so strong for the Super-Sargasso Sea, I think this is one of our best expressions upon external origins. That large blocks of ice could form in the moisture of this earth's atmosphere is about as likely as that blocks of stone could form in a dust whirl. Of course, if ice or water comes to this earth from external sources, we think of at least minute organisms in it, and on, with our data, to frogs, fishes; on to anything that's thinkable, coming from external sources. It's of great importance to us to accept that large lumps of ice have fallen from the sky, but what we desire most--perhaps because of our interest in its archaeologic and palaeontologic treasures--is now to be through with tentativeness and probation, and to take the Super-Sargasso Sea into full acceptance in our more advanced fold of the chosen of this twentieth century. In the _Report of the British Association_, 1855-37, it is said that, at Poorhundur, India, Dec. 11, 1854, flat pieces of ice, many of them weighing several pounds--each, I suppose--had fallen from the sky. They are described as "large ice-flakes." Vast fields of ice in the Super-Arctic regions, or strata, of the Super-Sargasso Sea. When they break up, their fragments are flake-like. In our acceptance, there are aerial ice-fields that are remote from this earth; that break up, fragments grinding against one another, rolling in vapor and water, of different constituency in different regions, forming slowly as stratified hailstones--but that there are ice-fields near this earth, that break up into just such flat pieces of ice as cover any pond or river when ice of a pond or river is broken, and are sometimes soon precipitated to the earth, in this familiar flat formation. _Symons' Met. Mag._, 43-154: A correspondent writes that, at Braemar, July 2, 1908, when the sky was clear overhead, and the sun shining, flat pieces of ice fell--from somewhere. The sun was shining, but something was going on somewhere: thunder was heard. Until I saw the reproduction of a photograph in the _Scientific American_, Feb. 21, 1914, I had supposed that these ice-fields must be, say, at least ten or twenty miles away from this earth, and invisible, to terrestrial observers, except as the blurs that have so often been reported by astronomers and meteorologists. The photograph published by the _Scientific American_ is of an aggregation supposed to be clouds, presumably not very high, so clearly detailed are they. The writer says that they looked to him like "a field of broken ice." Beneath is a picture of a conventional field of ice, floating ordinarily in water. The resemblance between the two pictures is striking--nevertheless, it seems to me incredible that the first of the photographs could be of an aerial ice-field, or that gravitation could cease to act at only a mile or so from this earth's surface-- Unless: The exceptional: the flux and vagary of all things. Or that normally this earth's gravitation extends, say, ten or fifteen miles outward--but that gravitation must be rhythmic. Of course, in the pseudo-formulas of astronomers, gravitation as a fixed quantity is essential. Accept that gravitation is a variable force, and astronomers deflate, with a perceptible hissing sound, into the punctured condition of economists, biologists, meteorologists, and all the others of the humbler divinities, who can admittedly offer only insecure approximations. We refer all who would not like to hear the hiss of escaping arrogance, to Herbert Spencer's chapters upon the rhythm of all phenomena. If everything else--light from the stars, heat from the sun, the winds and the tides; forms and colors and sizes of animals; demands and supplies and prices; political opinions and chemic reactions and religious doctrines and magnetic intensities and the ticking of clocks; and arrival and departure of the seasons--if everything else is variable, we accept that the notion of gravitation as fixed and formulable is only another attempted positivism, doomed, like all other illusions of realness in quasi-existence. So it is intermediatism to accept that, though gravitation may approximate higher to invariability than do the winds, for instance, it must be somewhere between the Absolutes of Stability and Instability. Here then we are not much impressed with the opposition of physicists and astronomers, fearing, a little mournfully, that their language is of expiring sibilations. So then the fields of ice in the sky, and that, though usually so far away as to be mere blurs, at times they come close enough to be seen in detail. For description of what I call a "blur," see _Pop. Sci. News_, February, 1884--sky, in general, unusually clear, but, near the sun, "a white, slightly curdled haze, which was dazzlingly bright." We accept that sometimes fields of ice pass between the sun and the earth: that many strata of ice, or very thick fields of ice, or superimposed fields would obscure the sun--that there have been occasions when the sun was eclipsed by fields of ice: Flammarion, _The Atmosphere_, p. 394: That a profound darkness came upon the city of Brussels, June 18, 1839: There fell flat pieces of ice, an inch long. Intense darkness at Aitkin, Minn., April 2, 1889: sand and "solid chunks of ice" reported to have fallen (_Science_, April 19, 1889). In _Symons' Meteorological Magazine_, 32-172, are outlined rough-edged but smooth-surfaced pieces of ice that fell at Manassas, Virginia, Aug. 10, 1897. They look as much like the roughly broken fragments of a smooth sheet of ice--as ever have roughly broken fragments of a smooth sheet of ice looked. About two inches across, and one inch thick. In _Cosmos_, 3-116, it is said that, at Rouen, July 5, 1853, fell irregular-shaped pieces of ice, about the size of a hand, described as looking as if all had been broken from one enormous block of ice. That, I think, was an aerial iceberg. In the awful density, or almost absolute stupidity of the 19th century, it never occurred to anybody to look for traces of polar bears or of seals upon these fragments. Of course, seeing what we want to see, having been able to gather these data only because they are in agreement with notions formed in advance, we are not so respectful to our own notions as to a similar impression forced upon an observer who had no theory or acceptance to support. In general, our prejudices see and our prejudices investigate, but this should not be taken as an absolute. _Monthly Weather Review_, July, 1894: That, from the Weather Bureau, of Portland, Oregon, a tornado, of June 3, 1894, was reported. Fragments of ice fell from the sky. They averaged three to four inches square, and about an inch thick. In length and breadth they had the smooth surfaces required by our acceptance: and, according to the writer in the _Review_, "gave the impression of a vast field of ice suspended in the atmosphere, and suddenly broken into fragments about the size of the palm of the hand." This datum, profoundly of what we used to call the "damned," or before we could no longer accept judgment, or cut and dried condemnation by infants, turtles, and lambs, was copied--but without comment--in the _Scientific American_, 71-371. Our theology is something like this: Of course we ought to be damned--but we revolt against adjudication by infants, turtles, and lambs. We now come to some remarkable data in a rather difficult department of super-geography. Vast fields of aerial ice. There's a lesson to me in the treachery of the imaginable. Most of our opposition is in the clearness with which the conventional, but impossible, becomes the imaginable, and then the resistant to modifications. After it had become the conventional with me, I conceived clearly of vast sheets of ice, a few miles above this earth--then the shining of the sun, and the ice partly melting--that note upon the ice that fell at Derby--water trickling and forming icicles upon the lower surface of the ice sheet. I seemed to look up and so clearly visualized those icicles hanging like stalactites from a flat-roofed cave, in white calcite. Or I looked up at the under side of an aerial ice-lump, and seemed to see a papillation similar to that observed by a calf at times. But then--but then--if icicles should form upon the under side of a sheet of aerial ice, that would be by the falling of water toward this earth; an icicle is of course an expression of gravitation--and, if water melting from ice should fall toward this earth, why not the ice itself fall before an icicle could have time to form? Of course, in quasi-existence, where everything is a paradox, one might argue that the water falls, but the ice does not, because the ice is heavier--that is, in masses. That notion, I think, belongs in a more advanced course than we are taking at present. Our expression upon icicles: A vast field of aerial ice--it is inert to this earth's gravitation--but by universal flux and variation, part of it sags closer to this earth, and is susceptible to gravitation--by cohesion with the main mass, this part does not fall, but water melting from it does fall, and forms icicles--then, by various disturbances, this part sometimes falls in fragments that are protrusive with icicles. Of the ice that fell, some of it enclosing living frogs, at Dubuque, Iowa, June 16, 1882, it is said (_Monthly Weather Review_, June, 1882) that there were pieces from one to seventeen inches in circumference, the largest weighing one pound and three-quarters--that upon some of them were icicles half an inch in length. We emphasize that these objects were not hailstones. The only merger is that of knobby hailstones, or of large hailstones with protuberances wrought by crystallization: but that is no merger with terrestrial phenomena, and such formations are unaccountable to orthodoxy; or it is incredible that hail could so crystallize--not forming by accretion--in the fall of a few seconds. For an account of such hailstones, see _Nature_, 61-594. Note the size--"some of them the size of turkeys' eggs." It is our expression that sometimes the icicles themselves have fallen, as if by concussion, or as if something had swept against the under side of an aerial ice floe, detaching its papillations. _Monthly Weather Review_, June, 1889: That, at Oswego, N.Y., June 11, 1889, according to the Turin (N.Y.) _Leader_, there fell, in a thunderstorm, pieces of ice that "resembled the fragments of icicles." _Monthly Weather Review_, 29-506: That on Florence Island, St. Lawrence River, Aug. 8, 1901, with ordinary hail, fell pieces of ice "formed like icicles, the size and shape of lead pencils that had been cut into sections about three-eighths of an inch in length." So our data of the Super-Sargasso Sea, and its Arctic region: and, for weeks at a time, an ice field may hang motionless over a part of this earth's surface--the sun has some effect upon it, but not much until late in the afternoon, I should say--part of it has sagged, but is held up by cohesion with the main mass--whereupon we have such an occurrence as would have been a little uncanny to us once upon a time--or fall of water from a cloudless sky, day after day, in one small part of this earth's surface, late in the afternoon, when the sun's rays had had time for their effects: _Monthly Weather Review_, October, 1886: That, according to the Charlotte _Chronicle_, Oct. 21, 1886, for three weeks there had been a fall of water from the sky, in Charlotte, N.C., localized in one particular spot, every afternoon, about three o'clock; that, whether the sky was cloudy or cloudless, the water or rain fell upon a small patch of land between two trees and nowhere else. This is the newspaper account, and, as such, it seems in the depths of the unchosen, either by me or any other expression of the Salvation Army. The account by the Signal Service observer, at Charlotte, published in the _Review_, follows: "An unusual phenomenon was witnessed on the 21st: having been informed that, for some weeks prior to date, rain had been falling daily, after 3 P.M., on a particular spot, near two trees, corner of 9th and D streets, I visited the place, and saw precipitation in the form of rain drops at 4:47 and 4:55 P.M., while the sun was shining brightly. On the 22nd, I again visited the place, and from 4:05 to 4:25 P.M., a light shower of rain fell from a cloudless sky.... Sometimes the precipitation falls over an area of half an acre, but always appears to center at these two trees, and when lightest occurs there only." 14 We see conventionally. It is not only that we think and act and speak and dress alike, because of our surrender to social attempt at Entity, in which we are only super-cellular. We see what it is "proper" that we should see. It is orthodox enough to say that a horse is not a horse, to an infant--any more than is an orange an orange to the unsophisticated. It's interesting to walk along a street sometimes and look at things and wonder what they'd look like, if we hadn't been taught to see horses and trees and houses as horses and trees and houses. I think that to super-sight they are local stresses merging indistinguishably into one another, in an all-inclusive nexus. I think that it would be credible enough to say that many times have Monstrator and Elvera and Azuria crossed telescopic fields of vision, and were not even seen--because it wouldn't be proper to see them; it wouldn't be respectable, and it wouldn't be respectful: it would be insulting to old bones to see them: it would bring on evil influences from the relics of St. Isaac to see them. But our data: Of vast worlds that are orbitless, or that are navigable, or that are adrift in inter-planetary tides and currents: the data that we shall have of their approach, in modern times, within five or six miles of this earth-- But then their visits, or approaches, to other planets, or to other of the few regularized bodies that have surrendered to the attempted Entity of this solar system as a whole-- The question that we can't very well evade: Have these other worlds, or super-constructions, ever been seen by astronomers? I think there would not be much approximation to realness in taking refuge in the notion of astronomers who stare and squint and see only that which it is respectable and respectful to see. It is all very well to say that astronomers are hypnotics, and that an astronomer looking at the moon is hypnotized by the moon, but our acceptance is that the bodies of this present expression often visit the moon, or cross it, or are held in temporary suspension near it--then some of them must often have been within the diameter of an astronomer's hypnosis. Our general expression: That, upon the oceans of this earth, there are regularized vessels, but also that there are tramp vessels: That, upon the super-ocean, there are regularized planets, but also that there are tramp worlds: That astronomers are like mercantile purists who would deny commercial vagabondage. Our acceptance is that vast celestial vagabonds have been excluded by astronomers, primarily because their irresponsibilities are an affront to the pure and the precise, or to attempted positivism; and secondarily because they have not been seen so very often. The planets steadily reflect the light of the sun: upon this uniformity a system that we call Primary Astronomy has been built up; but now the subject-matter of Advanced Astronomy is data of celestial phenomena that are sometimes light and sometimes dark, varying like some of the satellites of Jupiter, but with a wider range. However, light or dark, they have been seen and reported so often that the only important reason for their exclusion is--that they don't fit in. With dark bodies that are probably external to our own solar system, I have, in the provincialism that no one can escape, not much concern. Dark bodies afloat in outer space would have been damned a few years ago, but now they're sanctioned by Prof. Barnard--and, if he says they're all right, you may think of them without the fear of doing something wrong or ridiculous--the close kinship we note so often between the evil and the absurd--I suppose by the ridiculous I mean the froth of evil. The dark companion of Algol, for instance. Though that's a clear case of celestial miscegenation, the purists, or positivists, admit that's so. In the _Proceedings of the National Academy of Science_, 1915-394, Prof. Barnard writes of an object--he calls it an "object"--in Cephus. His idea is that there are dark, opaque bodies outside this solar system. But in the _Astrophysical Journal_, 1916-1, he modifies into regarding them as "dark nebulæ." That's not so interesting. We accept that Venus, for instance, has often been visited by other worlds, or by super-constructions, from which come ciders and coke and coal; that sometimes these things have reflected light and have been seen from this earth--by professional astronomers. It will be noted that throughout this chapter our data are accursed Brahmins--as, by hypnosis and inertia, we keep on and keep on saying, just as a good many of the scientists of the 19th century kept on and kept on admitting the power of the system that preceded them--or Continuity would be smashed. There's a big chance here for us to be instantaneously translated to the Positive Absolute--oh, well-- What I emphasize here is that our damned data are observations by astronomers of the highest standing, excommunicated by astronomers of similar standing--but backed up by the dominant spirit of their era--to which all minds had to equilibrate or be negligible, unheard, submerged. It would seem sometimes, in this book, as if our revolts were against the dogmatisms and pontifications of single scientists of eminence. This is only a convenience, because it seems necessary to personify. If we look over _Philosophical Transactions_, or the publications of the Royal Astronomical Society, for instance, we see that Herschel, for instance, was as powerless as any boy stargazer, to enforce acceptance of any observation of his that did not harmonize with the system that was growing up as independently of him and all other astronomers, as a phase in the development of an embryo compels all cells to take on appearances concordantly with the design and the predetermined progress and schedule of the whole. Visitors to Venus: Evans, _Ways of the Planets_, p. 140: That, in 1645, a body large enough to look like a satellite was seen near Venus. Four times in the first half of the 18th century, a similar observation was reported. The last report occurred in 1767. A large body has been seen--seven times, according to _Science Gossip_, 1886-178--near Venus. At least one astronomer, Houzeau, accepted these observations and named the--world, planet, super-construction--"Neith." His views are mentioned "in passing, but without endorsement," in the _Trans. N.Y. Acad._, 5-249. Houzeau or someone writing for the magazine-section of a Sunday newspaper--outer darkness for both alike. A new satellite in this solar system might be a little disturbing--though the formulas of Laplace, which were considered final in his day, have survived the admittance of five or six hundred bodies not included in those formulas--a satellite to Venus might be a little disturbing, but would be explained--but a large body approaching a planet--staying awhile--going away--coming back some other time--anchoring, as it were-- Azuria is pretty bad, but Azuria is no worse than Neith. _Astrophysical Journal_, 1-127: A light-reflecting body, or a bright spot near Mars: seen Nov. 25, 1894, by Prof. Pickering and others, at the Lowell Observatory, above an unilluminated part of Mars--self-luminous, it would seem--thought to have been a cloud--but estimated to have been about twenty miles away from the planet. Luminous spot seen moving across the disk of Mercury, in 1799, by Harding and Schroeter. (_Monthly Notices of the R.A.S._, 38-338.) In the first Bulletin issued by the Lowell Observatory, in 1903, Prof. Lowell describes a body that was seen on the terminator of Mars, May 20, 1903. On May 27, it was "suspected." If still there, it had moved, we are told, about 300 miles--"probably a dust cloud." Very conspicuous and brilliant spots seen on the disk of Mars, October and November, 1911. (_Popular Astronomy_, Vol. 19, No. 10.) So one of them accepted six or seven observations that were in agreement, except that they could not be regularized, upon a world--planet--satellite--and he gave it a name. He named it "Neith." Monstrator and Elvera and Azuria and Super-Romanimus-- Or heresy and orthodoxy and the oneness of all quasiness, and our ways and means and methods are the very same. Or, if we name things that may not be, we are not of lonely guilt in the nomenclature of absences-- But now Leverrier and "Vulcan." Leverrier again. Or to demonstrate the collapsibility of a froth, stick a pin in the largest bubble of it. Astronomy and inflation: and by inflation we mean expansion of the attenuated. Or that the science of Astronomy is a phantom-film distended with myth-stuff--but always our acceptance that it approximates higher to substantiality than did the system that preceded it. So Leverrier and the "planet Vulcan." And we repeat, and it will do us small good to repeat. If you be of the masses that the astronomers have hypnotized--being themselves hypnotized, or they could not hypnotize others--or that the hypnotist's control is not the masterful power that it is popularly supposed to be, but only transference of state from one hypnotic to another-- If you be of the masses that the astronomers have hypnotized, you will not be able even to remember. Ten pages from here, and Leverrier and the "planet Vulcan" will have fallen from your mind, like beans from a magnet, or like data of cold meteorites from the mind of a Thomson. Leverrier and the "planet Vulcan." And much the good it will do us to repeat. But at least temporarily we shall have an impression of a historic fiasco, such as, in our acceptance, could occur only in a quasi-existence. In 1859, Dr. Lescarbault, an amateur astronomer, of Orgères, France, announced that, upon March 26, of that year, he had seen a body of planetary size cross the sun. We are in a subject that is now as unholy to the present system as ever were its own subjects to the system that preceded it, or as ever were slanders against miracles to the preceding system. Nevertheless few text-books go so far as quite to disregard this tragedy. The method of the systematists is slightingly to give a few instances of the unholy, and dispose of the few. If it were desirable to them to deny that there are mountains upon this earth, they would record a few observations upon some slight eminences near Orange, N.J., but say that commuters, though estimable persons in several ways, are likely to have their observations mixed. The text-books casually mention a few of the "supposed" observations upon "Vulcan," and then pass on. Dr. Lescarbault wrote to Leverrier, who hastened to Orgères-- Because this announcement assimilated with his own calculations upon a planet between Mercury and the sun-- Because this solar system itself has never attained positiveness in the aspect of Regularity: there are to Mercury, as there are to Neptune, phenomena irreconcilable with the formulas, or motions that betray influence by something else. We are told that Leverrier "satisfied himself as to the substantial accuracy of the reported observation." The story of this investigation is told in _Monthly Notices_, 20-98. It seems too bad to threaten the naïve little thing with our rude sophistications, but it is amusingly of the ingenuousness of the age from which present dogmas have survived. Lescarbault wrote to Leverrier. Leverrier hastened to Orgères. But he was careful not to tell Lescarbault who he was. Went right in and "subjected Dr. Lescarbault to a very severe cross-examination"--just the way you or I may feel at liberty to go into anybody's home and be severe with people--"pressing him hard step by step"--just as anyone might go into someone else's house and press him hard, though unknown to the hard-pressed one. Not until he was satisfied, did Leverrier reveal his identity. I suppose Dr. Lescarbault expressed astonishment. I think there's something utopian about this: it's so unlike the stand-offishness of New York life. Leverrier gave the name "Vulcan" to the object that Dr. Lescarbault had reported. By the same means by which he is, even to this day, supposed--by the faithful--to have discovered Neptune, he had already announced the probable existence of an Intra-Mercurial body, or group of bodies. He had five observations besides Lescarbault's upon something that had been seen to cross the sun. In accordance with the mathematical hypnoses of his era, he studied these six transits. Out of them he computed elements giving "Vulcan" a period of about 20 days, or a formula for heliocentric longitude at any time. But he placed the time of best observation away up in 1877. But even so, or considering that he still had probably a good many years to live, it may strike one that he was a little rash--that is if one has not gone very deep into the study of hypnoses--that, having "discovered" Neptune by a method which, in our acceptance, had no more to recommend it than had once equally well-thought-of methods of witch-finding, he should not have taken such chances: that if he was right as to Neptune, but should be wrong as to "Vulcan," his average would be away below that of most fortune-tellers, who could scarcely hope to do business upon a fifty per cent. basis--all that the reasoning of a tyro in hypnoses. The date: March 22, 1877. The scientific world was up on its hind legs nosing the sky. The thing had been done so authoritatively. Never a pope had said a thing with more of the seeming of finality. If six observations correlated, what more could be asked? The Editor of _Nature_, a week before the predicted event, though cautious, said that it is difficult to explain how six observers, unknown to one another, could have data that could be formulated, if they were not related phenomena. In a way, at this point occurs the crisis of our whole book. Formulas are against us. But can astronomic formulas, backed up by observations in agreement, taken many years apart, calculated by a Leverrier, be as meaningless, in a positive sense, as all other quasi-things that we have encountered so far? The preparations they made, before March 22, 1877. In England, the Astronomer Royal made it the expectation of his life: notified observers at Madras, Melbourne, Sydney, and New Zealand, and arranged with observers in Chili and the United States. M. Struve had prepared for observations in Siberia and Japan-- March 22, 1877-- Not absolutely, hypocritically, I think it's pathetic, myself. If anyone should doubt the sincerity of Leverrier, in this matter, we note, whether it has meaning or not, that a few months later he died. I think we'll take up Monstrator, though there's so much to this subject that we'll have to come back. According to the _Annual Register_, 9-120, upon the 9th of August, 1762, M. de Rostan, of Basle, France, was taking altitudes of the sun, at Lausanne. He saw a vast, spindle-shaped body, about three of the sun's digits in breadth and nine in length, advancing slowly across the disk of the sun, or "at no more than half the velocity with which the ordinary solar spots move." It did not disappear until the 7th of September, when it reached the sun's limb. Because of the spindle-like form, I incline to think of a super-Zeppelin, but another observation, which seems to indicate that it was a world, is that, though it was opaque, and "eclipsed the sun," it had around it a kind of nebulosity--or atmosphere? A penumbra would ordinarily be a datum of a sun spot, but there are observations that indicate that this object was at a considerable distance from the sun: It is recorded that another observer, at Paris, watching the sun, at this time, had not seen this object: But that M. Croste, at Sole, about forty-five German leagues northward from Lausanne, had seen it, describing the same spindle-form, but disagreeing a little as to breadth. Then comes the important point: that he and M. de Rostan did not see it upon the same part of the sun. This, then, is parallax, and, compounded with invisibility at Paris, is great parallax--or that, in the course of a month, in the summer of 1762, a large, opaque, spindle-shaped body traversed the disk of the sun, but at a great distance from the sun. The writer in the _Register_ says: "In a word, we know of nothing to have recourse to, in the heavens, by which to explain this phenomenon." I suppose he was not a hopeless addict to explaining. Extraordinary--we fear he must have been a man of loose habits in some other respects. As to us-- Monstrator. In the _Monthly Notices of the R.A.S._, February, 1877, Leverrier, who never lost faith, up to the last day, gives the six observations upon an unknown body of planetary size, that he had formulated: Fritsche, Oct. 10, 1802; Stark, Oct. 9, 1819; De Cuppis, Oct. 30, 1839; Sidebotham, Nov. 12, 1849; Lescarbault, March 26, 1859; Lummis, March 20, 1862. If we weren't so accustomed to Science in its essential aspect of Disregard, we'd be mystified and impressed, like the Editor of _Nature_, with the formulation of these data: agreement of so many instances would seem incredible as a coincidence: but our acceptance is that, with just enough disregard, astronomers and fortune-tellers can formulate anything--or we'd engage, ourselves, to formulate periodicities in the crowds in Broadway--say that every Wednesday morning, a tall man, with one leg and a black eye, carrying a rubber plant, passes the Singer Building, at quarter past ten o'clock. Of course it couldn't really be done, unless such a man did have such periodicity, but if some Wednesday mornings it should be a small child lugging a barrel, or a fat negress with a week's wash, by ordinary disregard that would be prediction good enough for the kind of quasi-existence we're in. So whether we accuse, or whether we think that the word "accuse" over-dignifies an attitude toward a quasi-astronomer, or mere figment in a super-dream, our acceptance is that Leverrier never did formulate observations-- That he picked out observations that could be formulated-- That of this type are all formulas-- That, if Leverrier had not been himself helplessly hypnotized, or if he had had in him more than a tincture of realness, never could he have been beguiled by such a quasi-process: but that he was hypnotized, and so extended, or transferred, his condition to others, that upon March 22, 1877, he had this earth bristling with telescopes, with the rigid and almost inanimate forms of astronomers behind them-- And not a blessed thing of any unusuality was seen upon that day or succeeding days. But that the science of Astronomy suffered the slightest in prestige? It couldn't. The spirit of 1877 was behind it. If, in an embryo, some cells should not live up to the phenomena of their era, the others will sustain the scheduled appearances. Not until an embryo enters the mammalian stage are cells of the reptilian stage false cells. It is our acceptance that there were many equally authentic reports upon large planetary bodies that had been seen near the sun; that, of many, Leverrier picked out six; not then deciding that all the other observations related to still other large, planetary bodies, but arbitrarily, or hypnotically, disregarding--or heroically disregarding--every one of them--that to formulate at all he had to exclude falsely. The dénouement killed him, I think. I'm not at all inclined to place him with the Grays and Hitchcocks and Symonses. I'm not, because, though it was rather unsportsmanlike to put the date so far ahead, he did give a date, and he did stick to it with such a high approximation-- I think Leverrier was translated to the Positive Absolute. The disregarded: Observation, of July 26, 1819, by Gruthinson--but that was of two bodies that crossed the sun together-- _Nature_, 14-469: That, according to the astronomer, J.R. Hind, Benjamin Scott, City Chamberlain of London, and Mr. Wray, had, in 1847, seen a body similar to "Vulcan" cross the sun. Similar observation by Hind and Lowe, March 12, 1849 (_L'Année Scientifique_, 1876-9). _Nature_, 14-505: Body of apparent size of Mercury, seen, Jan. 29, 1860, by F.A.R. Russell and four other observers, crossing the sun. De Vico's observation of July 12, 1837 (_Observatory_, 2-424). _L'Année Scientifique_, 1865-16: That another amateur astronomer, M. Coumbray, of Constantinople, had written to Leverrier, that, upon the 8th of March, 1865, he had seen a black point, sharply outlined, traverse the disk of the sun. It detached itself from a group of sun spots near the limb of the sun, and took 48 minutes to reach the other limb. Figuring upon the diagram sent by M. Coumbray, a central passage would have taken a little more than an hour. This observation was disregarded by Leverrier, because his formula required about four times that velocity. The point here is that these other observations are as authentic as those that Leverrier included; that, then, upon data as good as the data of "Vulcan," there must be other "Vulcans"--the heroic and defiant disregard, then, of trying to formulate one, omitting the others, which, by orthodox doctrine, must have influenced it greatly, if all were in the relatively narrow space between Mercury and the sun. Observation upon another such body, of April 4, 1876, by M. Weber, of Berlin. As to this observation, Leverrier was informed by Wolf, in August, 1876 (_L'Année Scientifique_, 1876-7). It made no difference, so far as can be known, to this notable positivist. Two other observations noted by Hind and Denning--London _Times_, Nov. 3, 1871, and March 26, 1873. _Monthly Notices of the R.A.S._, 20-100: Standacher, February, 1762; Lichtenberg, Nov. 19, 1762; Hoffman, May, 1764; Dangos, Jan. 18, 1798; Stark, Feb. 12, 1820. An observation by Schmidt, Oct. 11, 1847, is said to be doubtful: but, upon page 192, it is said that this doubt had arisen because of a mistaken translation, and two other observations by Schmidt are given: Oct. 14, 1849, and Feb. 18, 1850--also an observation by Lofft, Jan. 6, 1818. Observation by Steinheibel, at Vienna, April 27, 1820 (_Monthly Notices_, 1862). Haase had collected reports of twenty observations like Lescarbault's. The list was published in 1872, by Wolf. Also there are other instances like Gruthinsen's: _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 2-28-446: Report by Pastorff that he had seen twice in 1836, and once in 1837, two round spots of unequal size moving across the sun, changing position relatively to each other, and taking a different course, if not orbit, each time: that, in 1834, he had seen similar bodies pass six times across the disk of the sun, looking very much like Mercury in his transits. March 22, 1876-- But to point out Leverrier's poverty-stricken average--or discovering planets upon a fifty per cent. basis--would be to point out the low percentage of realness in the quasi-myth-stuff of which the whole system is composed. We do not accuse the text-books of omitting this fiasco, but we do note that theirs is the conventional adaptation here of all beguilers who are in difficulties-- The diverting of attention. It wouldn't be possible in a real existence, with real mentality, to deal with, but I suppose it's good enough for the quasi-intellects that stupefy themselves with text-books. The trick here is to gloss over Leverrier's mistake, and blame Lescarbault--he was only an amateur--had delusions. The reader's attention is led against Lescarbault by a report from M. Lias, director of the Brazilian Coast Survey, who, at the time of Lescarbault's "supposed" observation had been watching the sun in Brazil, and, instead of seeing even ordinary sun spots, had noted that the region of the "supposed transit" was of "uniform intensity." But the meaninglessness of all utterances in quasi-existence-- "Uniform intensity" turns our way as much as against us--or some day some brain will conceive a way of beating Newton's third law--if every reaction, or resistance, is, or can be, interpretable as stimulus instead of resistance--if this could be done in mechanics, there's a way open here for someone to own the world--specifically in this matter, "uniform intensity" means that Lescarbault saw no ordinary sun spot, just as much as it means that no spot at all was seen upon the sun. Continuing the interpretation of a resistance as an assistance, which can always be done with mental forces--making us wonder what applications could be made with steam and electric forces--we point out that invisibility in Brazil means parallax quite as truly as it means absence, and, inasmuch as "Vulcan" was supposed to be distant from the sun, we interpret denial as corroboration--method of course of every scientist, politician, theologian, high-school debater. So the text-books, with no especial cleverness, because no especial cleverness is needed, lead the reader into contempt for the amateur of Orgères, and forgetfulness of Leverrier--and some other subject is taken up. But our own acceptance: That these data are as good as ever they were; That, if someone of eminence should predict an earthquake, and if there should be no earthquake at the predicted time, that would discredit the prophet, but data of past earthquakes would remain as good as ever they had been. It is easy enough to smile at the illusion of a single amateur-- The mass-formation: Fritsche, Stark, De Cuppis, Sidebotham, Lescarbault, Lummis, Gruthinson, De Vico, Scott, Wray, Russell, Hind, Lowe, Coumbray, Weber, Standacher, Lichtenberg, Dangos, Hoffman, Schmidt, Lofft, Steinheibel, Pastorff-- These are only the observations conventionally listed relatively to an Intra-Mercurial planet. They are formidable enough to prevent our being diverted, as if it were all the dream of a lonely amateur--but they're a mere advance-guard. From now on other data of large celestial bodies, some dark and some reflecting light, will pass and pass and keep on passing-- So that some of us will remember a thing or two, after the procession's over--possibly. Taking up only one of the listed observations-- Or our impression that the discrediting of Leverrier has nothing to do with the acceptability of these data: In the London _Times_, Jan. 10, 1860, is Benjamin Scott's account of his observation: That, in the summer of 1847, he had seen a body that had seemed to be the size of Venus, crossing the sun. He says that, hardly believing the evidence of his sense of sight, he had looked for someone, whose hopes or ambitions would not make him so subject to illusion. He had told his little son, aged five years, to look through the telescope. The child had exclaimed that he had seen "a little balloon" crossing the sun. Scott says that he had not had sufficient self-reliance to make public announcement of his remarkable observation at the time, but that, in the evening of the same day, he had told Dr. Dick, F.R.A.S., who had cited other instances. In the _Times_, Jan. 12, 1860, is published a letter from Richard Abbott, F.R.A.S.: that he remembered Mr. Scott's letter to him upon this observation, at the time of the occurrence. I suppose that, at the beginning of this chapter, one had the notion that, by hard scratching through musty old records we might rake up vague, more than doubtful data, distortable into what's called evidence of unrecognized worlds or constructions of planetary size-- But the high authenticity and the support and the modernity of these of the accursed that we are now considering-- And our acceptance that ours is a quasi-existence, in which above all other things, hopes, ambitions, emotions, motivations, stands Attempt to Positivize: that we are here considering an attempt to systematize that is sheer fanaticism in its disregard of the unsystematizable--that it represented the highest good in the 19th century--that it is mono-mania, but heroic mono-mania that was quasi-divine in the 19th century-- But that this isn't the 19th century. As a doubly sponsored Brahmin--in the regard of Baptists--the objects of July 29, 1878, stand out and proclaim themselves so that nothing but disregard of the intensity of mono-mania can account for their reception by the system: Or the total eclipse of July 29, 1878, and the reports by Prof. Watson, from Rawlins, Wyoming, and by Prof. Swift, from Denver, Colorado: that they had seen two shining objects at a considerable distance from the sun. It's quite in accord with our general expression: not that there is an Intra-Mercurial planet, but that there are different bodies, many vast things; near this earth sometimes, near the sun sometimes; orbitless worlds, which, because of scarcely any data of collisions, we think of as under navigable control--or dirigible super-constructions. Prof. Watson and Prof. Swift published their observations. Then the disregard that we cannot think of in terms of ordinary, sane exclusions. The text-book systematists begin by telling us that the trouble with these observations is that they disagree widely: there is considerable respectfulness, especially for Prof. Swift, but we are told that by coincidence these two astronomers, hundreds of miles apart, were illuded: their observations were so different-- Prof. Swift (_Nature_, Sept. 19, 1878): That his own observation was "in close approximation to that given by Prof. Watson." In the _Observatory_, 2-161, Swift says that his observations and Watson's were "confirmatory of each other." The faithful try again: That Watson and Swift mistook stars for other bodies. In the _Observatory_, 2-193, Prof. Watson says that he had previously committed to memory all stars near the sun, down to the seventh magnitude-- And he's damned anyway. How such exclusions work out is shown by Lockyer (_Nature_, Aug. 20, 1878). He says: "There is little doubt that an Intra-Mercurial planet has been discovered by Prof. Watson." That was before excommunication was pronounced. He says: "If it will fit one of Leverrier's orbits"-- It didn't fit. In _Nature_, 21-301, Prof. Swift says: "I have never made a more valid observation, nor one more free from doubt." He's damned anyway. We shall have some data that will not live up to most rigorous requirements, but, if anyone would like to read how carefully and minutely these two sets of observations were made, see Prof. Swift's detailed description in the _Am. Jour. Sci._, 116-313; and the technicalities of Prof. Watson's observations in _Monthly Notices_, 38-525. Our own acceptance upon dirigible worlds, which is assuredly enough, more nearly real than attempted concepts of large planets relatively near this earth, moving in orbits, but visible only occasionally; which more nearly approximates to reasonableness than does wholesale slaughter of Swift and Watson and Fritsche and Stark and De Cuppis--but our own acceptance is so painful to so many minds that, in another of the charitable moments that we have now and then for the sake of contrast, we offer relief: The things seen high in the sky by Swift and Watson-- Well, only two months before--the horse and the barn-- We go on with more observations by astronomers, recognizing that it is the very thing that has given them life, sustained them, held them together, that has crushed all but the quasi-gleam of independent life out of them. Were they not systematized, they could not be at all, except sporadically and without sustenance. They are systematized: they must not vary from the conditions of the system: they must not break away for themselves. The two great commandments: Thou shalt not break Continuity; Thou shalt try. We go on with these disregarded data, some of which, many of which, are of the highest degree of acceptability. It is the System that pulls back its variations, as this earth is pulling back the Matterhorn. It is the System that nourishes and rewards, and also freezes out life with the chill of disregard. We do note that, before excommunication is pronounced, orthodox journals do liberally enough record unassimilable observations. All things merge away into everything else. That is Continuity. So the System merges away and evades us when we try to focus against it. We have complained a great deal. At least we are not so dull as to have the delusion that we know just exactly what it is that we are complaining about. We speak seemingly definitely enough of "the System," but we're building upon observations by members of that very system. Or what we are doing--gathering up the loose heresies of the orthodox. Of course "the System" fringes and ravels away, having no real outline. A Swift will antagonize "the System," and a Lockyer will call him back; but, then, a Lockyer will vary with a "meteoric hypothesis," and a Swift will, in turn, represent "the System." This state is to us typical of all intermediatist phenomena; or that not conceivably is anything really anything, if its parts are likely to be their own opposites at any time. We speak of astronomers--as if there were real astronomers--but who have lost their identity in a System--as if it were a real System--but behind that System is plainly a rapport, or loss of identity in the Spirit of an Era. Bodies that have looked like dark bodies, and lights that may have been sunlight reflected from inter-planetary--objects, masses, constructions-- Lights that have been seen upon--or near?--the moon: In _Philosophical Transactions_, 82-27, is Herschel's report upon many luminous points, which he saw upon--or near?--the moon, during an eclipse. Why they should be luminous, whereas the moon itself was dark, would get us into a lot of trouble--except that later we shall, or we sha'n't, accept that many times have luminous objects been seen close to this earth--at night. But numerousness is a new factor, or new disturbance, to our explorations-- A new aspect of inter-planetary inhabitancy or occupancy-- Worlds in hordes--or beings--winged beings perhaps--wouldn't astonish me if we should end up by discovering angels--or beings in machines--argosies of celestial voyagers-- In 1783 and 1787, Herschel reported more lights on or near the moon, which he supposed were volcanic. The word of a Herschel has had no more weight, in divergences from the orthodox, than has had the word of a Lescarbault. These observations are of the disregarded. Bright spots seen on the moon, November, 1821 (_Proc. London Roy. Soc._, 2-167). For four other instances, see Loomis (_Treatise on Astronomy_, p. 174). A moving light is reported in _Phil. Trans._, 84-429. To the writer, it looked like a star passing over the moon--"which, on the next moment's consideration I knew to be impossible." "It was a fixed, steady light upon the dark part of the moon." I suppose "fixed" applies to luster. In the _Report of the Brit. Assoc._, 1847-18, there is an observation by Rankin, upon luminous points seen on the shaded part of the moon, during an eclipse. They seemed to this observer like reflections of stars. That's not very reasonable: however, we have, in the _Annual Register_, 1821-687, a light not referable to a star--because it moved with the moon: was seen three nights in succession; reported by Capt. Kater. See _Quart. Jour. Roy. Inst._, 12-133. _Phil. Trans._, 112-237: Report from the Cape Town Observatory: a whitish spot on the dark part of the moon's limb. Three smaller lights were seen. The call of positiveness, in its aspects of singleness, or homogeneity, or oneness, or completeness. In data now coming, I feel it myself. A Leverrier studies more than twenty observations. The inclination is irresistible to think that they all relate to one phenomenon. It is an expression of cosmic inclination. Most of the observations are so irreconcilable with any acceptance other than of orbitless, dirigible worlds that he shuts his eyes to more than two-thirds of them; he picks out six that can give him the illusion of completeness, or of all relating to one planet. Or let it be that we have data of many dark bodies--still do we incline almost irresistibly to think of one of them as the dark-body-in-chief. Dark bodies, floating, or navigating, in inter-planetary space--and I conceive of one that's the Prince of Dark Bodies: Melanicus. Vast dark thing with the wings of a super-bat, or jet-black super-construction; most likely one of the spores of the Evil One. The extraordinary year, 1883: London _Times_, Dec. 17, 1883: Extract from a letter by Hicks Pashaw: that, in Egypt, Sept. 24, 1883, he had seen, through glasses, "an immense black spot upon the lower part of the sun." Sun spot, maybe. One night an astronomer was looking up at the sky, when something obscured a star, for three and a half seconds. A meteor had been seen nearby, but its train had been only momentarily visible. Dr. Wolf was the astronomer (_Nature_, 86-528). The next datum is one of the most sensational we have, except that there is very little to it. A dark object that was seen by Prof. Heis, for eleven degrees of arc, moving slowly across the Milky Way. (Greg's Catalogue, _Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1867-426.) One of our quasi-reasons for accepting that orbitless worlds are dirigible is the almost complete absence of data of collisions: of course, though in defiance of gravitation, they may, without direction like human direction, adjust to one another in the way of vortex rings of smoke--a very human-like way, that is. But in _Knowledge_, February, 1894, are two photographs of Brooks' comet that are shown as evidence of its seeming collision with a dark object, October, 1893. Our own wording is that it "struck against something": Prof. Barnard's is that it had "entered some dense medium, which shattered it." For all I know it had knocked against merely a field of ice. Melanicus. That upon the wings of a super-bat, he broods over this earth and over other worlds, perhaps deriving something from them: hovers on wings, or wing-like appendages, or planes that are hundreds of miles from tip to tip--a super-evil thing that is exploiting us. By Evil I mean that which makes us useful. He obscures a star. He shoves a comet. I think he's a vast, black, brooding vampire. _Science_, July 31, 1896: That, according to a newspaper account, Mr. W.R. Brooks, director of the Smith Observatory, had seen a dark round object pass rather slowly across the moon, in a horizontal direction. In Mr. Brooks' opinion it was a dark meteor. In _Science_, Sept. 14, 1896, a correspondent writes that, in his opinion, it may have been a bird. We shall have no trouble with the meteor and bird mergers, if we have observations of long duration and estimates of size up to hundreds of miles. As to the body that was seen by Brooks, there is a note from the Dutch astronomer, Muller, in the _Scientific American_, 75-251, that, upon April 4, 1892, he had seen a similar phenomenon. In _Science Gossip_, n.s., 3-135, are more details of the Brooks object--apparent diameter about one-thirtieth of the moon's--moon's disk crossed in three or four seconds. The writer, in _Science Gossip_, says that, on June 27, 1896, at one o'clock in the morning, he was looking at the moon with a 2-inch achromatic, power 44, when a long black object sailed past, from west to east, the transit occupying 3 or 4 seconds. He believed this object to be a bird--there was, however, no fluttering motion observable in it. In the _Astronomische Nachrichten_, No. 3477, Dr. Brendel, of Griefswald, Pomerania, writes that Postmaster Ziegler and other observers had seen a body about 6 feet in diameter crossing the sun's disk. The duration here indicates something far from the earth, and also far from the sun. This thing was seen a quarter of an hour before it reached the sun. Time in crossing the sun was about an hour. After leaving the sun it was visible an hour. I think he's a vast, black vampire that sometimes broods over this earth and other bodies. Communication from Dr. F.B. Harris (_Popular Astronomy_, 20-398): That, upon the evening of Jan. 27, 1912, Dr. Harris saw, upon the moon, "an intensely black object." He estimated it to be 250 miles long and 50 miles wide. "The object resembled a crow poised, as near as anything." Clouds then cut off observation. Dr. Harris writes: "I cannot but think that a very interesting and curious phenomenon happened." 15 Short chapter coming now, and it's the worst of them all. I think it's speculative. It's a lapse from our usual pseudo-standards. I think it must mean that the preceding chapter was very efficiently done, and that now by the rhythm of all quasi-things--which can't be real things, if they're rhythms, because a rhythm is an appearance that turns into its own opposite and then back again--but now, to pay up, we're what we weren't. Short chapter, and I think we'll fill in with several points in Intermediatism. A puzzle: If it is our acceptance that, out of the Negative Absolute, the Positive Absolute is generating itself, recruiting, or maintaining, itself, via a third state, or our own quasi-state, it would seem that we're trying to conceive of Universalness manufacturing more Universalness from Nothingness. Take that up yourself, if you're willing to run the risk of disappearing with such velocity that you'll leave an incandescent train behind, and risk being infinitely happy forever, whereas you probably don't want to be happy--I'll sidestep that myself, and try to be intelligible by regarding the Positive Absolute from the aspect of Realness instead of Universalness, recalling that by both Realness and Universalness we mean the same state, or that which does not merge away into something else, because there is nothing else. So the idea is that out of Unrealness, instead of Nothingness, Realness, instead of Universalness, is, via our own quasi-state, manufacturing more Realness. Just so, but in relative terms, of course, all imaginings that materialize into machines or statues, buildings, dollars, paintings or books in paper and ink are graduations from unrealness to realness--in relative terms. It would seem then that Intermediateness is a relation between the Positive Absolute and the Negative Absolute. But the absolute cannot be the related--of course a confession that we can't really think of it at all, if here we think of a limit to the unlimited. Doing the best we can, and encouraged by the reflection that we can't do worse than has been done by metaphysicians in the past, we accept that the absolute can't be the related. So then that our quasi-state is not a real relation, if nothing in it is real. On the other hand, it is not an unreal relation, if nothing in it is unreal. It seems thinkable that the Positive Absolute can, by means of Intermediateness, have a quasi-relation, or be only quasi-related, or be the unrelated, in final terms, or, at least, not be the related, in final terms. As to free will and Intermediatism--same answer as to everything else. By free will we mean Independence--or that which does not merge away into something else--so, in Intermediateness, neither free-will nor slave-will--but a different approximation for every so-called person toward one or the other of the extremes. The hackneyed way of expressing this seems to me to be the acceptable way, if in Intermediateness, there is only the paradoxical: that we're free to do what we have to do. I am not convinced that we make a fetish of the preposterous. I think our feeling is that in first gropings there's no knowing what will afterward be the acceptable. I think that if an early biologist heard of birds that grow on trees, he should record that he had heard of birds that grow on trees: then let sorting over of data occur afterward. The one thing that we try to tone down but that is to a great degree unavoidable is having our data all mixed up like Long Island and Florida in the minds of early American explorers. My own notion is that this whole book is very much like a map of North America in which the Hudson River is set down as a passage leading to Siberia. We think of Monstrator and Melanicus and of a world that is now in communication with this earth: if so, secretly, with certain esoteric ones upon this earth. Whether that world's Monstrator and Monstrator's Melanicus--must be the subject of later inquiry. It would be a gross thing to do: solve up everything now and leave nothing to our disciples. I have been very much struck with phenomena of "cup marks." They look to me like symbols of communication. But they do not look to me like means of communication between some of the inhabitants of this earth and other inhabitants of this earth. My own impression is that some external force has marked, with symbols, rocks of this earth, from far away. I do not think that cup marks are inscribed communications among different inhabitants of this earth, because it seems too unacceptable that inhabitants of China, Scotland, and America should all have conceived of the same system. Cup marks are strings of cup-like impressions in rocks. Sometimes there are rings around them, and sometimes they have only semi-circles. Great Britain, America, France, Algeria, Circassia, Palestine: they're virtually everywhere--except in the far north, I think. In China, cliffs are dotted with them. Upon a cliff near Lake Como, there is a maze of these markings. In Italy and Spain and India they occur in enormous numbers. Given that a force, say, like electric force, could, from a distance, mark such a substance as rocks, as, from a distance of hundreds of miles, selenium can be marked by telephotographers--but I am of two minds-- The Lost Explorers from Somewhere, and an attempt, from Somewhere, to communicate with them: so a frenzy of showering of messages toward this earth, in the hope that some of them would mark rocks near the lost explorers-- Or that somewhere upon this earth, there is an especial rocky surface, or receptor, or polar construction, or a steep, conical hill, upon which for ages have been received messages from some other world; but that at times messages go astray and mark substances perhaps thousands of miles from the receptor: That perhaps forces behind the history of this earth have left upon the rocks of Palestine and England and India and China records that may some day be deciphered, of their misdirected instructions to certain esoteric ones--Order of the Freemasons--the Jesuits-- I emphasize the row-formation of cup marks: Prof. Douglas (_Saturday Review_, Nov. 24, 1883): "Whatever may have been their motive, the cup-markers showed a decided liking for arranging their sculpturings in regularly spaced rows." That cup marks are an archaic form of inscription was first suggested by Canon Greenwell many years ago. But more specifically adumbratory to our own expression are the observations of Rivett-Carnac (_Jour. Roy. Asiatic Soc._, 1903-515): That the Braille system of raised dots is an inverted arrangement of cup marks: also that there are strong resemblances to the Morse code. But no tame and systematized archaeologist can do more than casually point out resemblances, and merely suggest that strings of cup marks look like messages, because--China, Switzerland, Algeria, America--if messages they be, there seems to be no escape from attributing one origin to them--then, if messages they be, I accept one external origin, to which the whole surface of this earth was accessible, for them. Something else that we emphasize: That rows of cup marks have often been likened to footprints. But, in this similitude, their unilinear arrangement must be disregarded--of course often they're mixed up in every way, but arrangement in single lines is very common. It is odd that they should so often be likened to footprints: I suppose there are exceptional cases, but unless it's something that hops on one foot, or a cat going along a narrow fence-top, I don't think of anything that makes footprints one directly ahead of another--Cop, in a station house, walking a chalk line, perhaps. Upon the Witch's Stone, near Ratho, Scotland, there are twenty-four cups, varying in size from one and a half to three inches in diameter, arranged in approximately straight lines. Locally it is explained that these are tracks of dogs' feet (_Proc. Soc. Antiq. Scotland_, 2-4-79). Similar marks are scattered bewilderingly all around the Witch's Stone--like a frenzy of telegraphing, or like messages repeating and repeating, trying to localize differently. In Inverness-shire, cup marks are called "fairies' footmarks." At Valna's church, Norway, and St. Peter's, Ambleteuse, there are such marks, said to be horses' hoofprints. The rocks of Clare, Ireland, are marked with prints supposed to have been made by a mythical cow (_Folklore_, 21-184). We now have such a ghost of a thing that I'd not like to be interpreted as offering it as a datum: it simply illustrates what I mean by the notion of symbols, like cups, or like footprints, which, if like those of horses or cows, are the reverse of, or the negatives of, cups--of symbols that are regularly received somewhere upon this earth--steep, conical hill, somewhere, I think--but that have often alighted in wrong places--considerably to the mystification of persons waking up some morning to find them upon formerly blank spaces. An ancient record--still worse, an ancient Chinese record--of a courtyard of a palace--dwellers of the palace waking up one morning, finding the courtyard marked with tracks like the footprints of an ox--supposed that the devil did it. (_Notes and Queries_, 9-6-225.) 16. Angels. Hordes upon hordes of them. Beings massed like the clouds of souls, or the commingling whiffs of spirituality, or the exhalations of souls that Doré pictured so often. It may be that the Milky Way is a composition of stiff, frozen, finally-static, absolute angels. We shall have data of little Milky Ways, moving swiftly; or data of hosts of angels, not absolute, or still dynamic. I suspect, myself, that the fixed stars are really fixed, and that the minute motions said to have been detected in them are illusions. I think that the fixed stars are absolutes. Their twinkling is only the interpretation by an intermediatist state of them. I think that soon after Leverrier died, a new fixed star was discovered--that, if Dr. Gray had stuck to his story of the thousands of fishes from one pail of water, had written upon it, lectured upon it, taken to street corners, to convince the world that, whether conceivable or not, his explanation was the only true explanation: had thought of nothing but this last thing at night and first thing in the morning--his obituary--another "nova" reported in _Monthly Notices_. I think that Milky Ways, of an inferior, or dynamic, order, have often been seen by astronomers. Of course it may be that the phenomena that we shall now consider are not angels at all. We are simply feeling around, trying to find out what we can accept. Some of our data indicate hosts of rotund and complacent tourists in inter-planetary space--but then data of long, lean, hungry ones. I think that there are, out in inter-planetary space, Super Tamerlanes at the head of hosts of celestial ravagers--which have come here and pounced upon civilizations of the past, cleaning them up all but their bones, or temples and monuments--for which later historians have invented exclusionist histories. But if something now has a legal right to us, and can enforce its proprietorship, they've been warned off. It's the way of all exploitation. I should say that we're now under cultivation: that we're conscious of it, but have the impertinence to attribute it all to our own nobler and higher instincts. Against these notions is the same sense of finality that opposes all advance. It's why we rate acceptance as a better adaptation than belief. Opposing us is the strong belief that, as to inter-planetary phenomena, virtually everything has been found out. Sense of finality and illusion of homogeneity. But that what is called advancing knowledge is violation of the sense of blankness. A drop of water. Once upon a time water was considered so homogeneous that it was thought of as an element. The microscope--and not only that the supposititiously elementary was seen to be of infinite diversity, but that in its protoplasmic life there were new orders of beings. Or the year 1491--and a European looking westward over the ocean--his feeling that that suave western droop was unbreakable; that gods of regularity would not permit that smooth horizon to be disturbed by coasts or spotted with islands. The unpleasantness of even contemplating such a state--wide, smooth west, so clean against the sky--spotted with islands--geographic leprosy. But coasts and islands and Indians and bison, in the seemingly vacant west: lakes, mountains, rivers-- One looks up at the sky: the relative homogeneity of the relatively unexplored: one thinks of only a few kinds of phenomena. But the acceptance is forced upon me that there are modes and modes and modes of inter-planetary existence: things as different from planets and comets and meteors as Indians are from bison and prairie dogs: a super-geography--or celestiography--of vast stagnant regions, but also of Super-Niagaras and Ultra-Mississippis: and a super-sociology--voyagers and tourists and ravagers: the hunted and the hunting: the super-mercantile, the super-piratic, the super-evangelical. Sense of homogeneity, or our positivist illusion of the unknown--and the fate of all positivism. Astronomy and the academic. Ethics and the abstract. The universal attempt to formulate or to regularize--an attempt that can be made only by disregarding or denying. Or all things disregard or deny that which will eventually invade and destroy them-- Until comes the day when some one thing shall say, and enforce upon Infinitude: "Thus far shalt thou go: here is absolute demarcation." The final utterance: "There is only I." In the _Monthly Notices of the R.A.S._, 11-48, there is a letter from the Rev. W. Read: That, upon the 4th of September, 1851, at 9:30 A.M., he had seen a host of self-luminous bodies, passing the field of his telescope, some slowly and some rapidly. They appeared to occupy a zone several degrees in breadth. The direction of most of them was due east to west, but some moved from north to south. The numbers were tremendous. They were observed for six hours. Editor's note: "May not these appearances be attributed to an abnormal state of the optic nerves of the observer?" In _Monthly Notices_, 12-38, Mr. Read answers that he had been a diligent observer, with instruments of a superior order, for about 28 years--"but I have never witnessed such an appearance before." As to illusion he says that two other members of his family had seen the objects. The Editor withdraws his suggestion. We know what to expect. Almost absolutely--in an existence that is essentially Hibernian--we can predict the past--that is, look over something of this kind, written in 1851, and know what to expect from the Exclusionists later. If Mr. Read saw a migration of dissatisfied angels, numbering millions, they must merge away, at least subjectively, with commonplace terrestrial phenomena--of course disregarding Mr. Read's probable familiarity, of 28 years' duration, with the commonplaces of terrestrial phenomena. _Monthly Notices_, 12-183: Letter from Rev. W.R. Dawes: That he had seen similar objects--and in the month of September--that they were nothing but seeds floating in the air. In the _Report of the British Association_, 1852-235, there is a communication from Mr. Read to Prof. Baden-Powell: That the objects that had been seen by him and by Mr. Dawes were not similar. He denies that he had seen seeds floating in the air. There had been little wind, and that had come from the sea, where seeds would not be likely to have origin. The objects that he had seen were round and sharply defined, and with none of the feathery appearance of thistledown. He then quotes from a letter from C.B. Chalmers, F.R.A.S., who had seen a similar stream, a procession, or migration, except that some of the bodies were more elongated--or lean and hungry--than globular. He might have argued for sixty-five years. He'd have impressed nobody--of importance. The super-motif, or dominant, of his era, was Exclusionism, and the notion of seeds in the air assimilates--with due disregards--with that dominant. Or pageantries here upon our earth, and things looking down upon us--and the Crusades were only dust clouds, and glints of the sun on shining armor were only particles of mica in dust clouds. I think it was a Crusade that Read saw--but that it was right, relatively to the year 1851, to say that it was only seeds in the wind, whether the wind blew from the sea or not. I think of things that were luminous with religious zeal, mixed up, like everything else in Intermediateness, with black marauders and from gray to brown beings of little personal ambitions. There may have been a Richard Coeur de Lion, on his way to right wrongs in Jupiter. It was right, relatively to 1851, to say that he was a seed of a cabbage. Prof. Coffin, U.S.N. (_Jour. Frank. Inst._, 88-151): That, during the eclipse of August, 1869, he had noted the passage, across his telescope, of several bright flakes resembling thistleblows, floating in the sunlight. But the telescope was so focused that, if these things were distinct, they must have been so far away from this earth that the difficulties of orthodoxy remain as great, one way or another, no matter what we think they were-- They were "well-defined," says Prof. Coffin. Henry Waldner (_Nature_, 5-304): That, April 27, 1863, he had seen great numbers of small, shining bodies passing from west to east. He had notified Dr. Wolf, of the Observatory of Zurich, who "had convinced himself of this strange phenomenon." Dr. Wolf had told him that similar bodies had been seen by Sig. Capocci, of the Capodimonte Observatory, at Naples, May 11, 1845. The shapes were of great diversity--or different aspects of similar shapes? Appendages were seen upon some of them. We are told that some were star-shaped, with transparent appendages. I think, myself, it was a Mohammed and his Hegira. May have been only his harem. Astonishing sensation: afloat in space with ten million wives around one. Anyway, it would seem that we have considerable advantage here, inasmuch as seeds are not in season in April--but the pulling back to earth, the bedraggling by those sincere but dull ones of some time ago. We have the same stupidity--necessary, functioning stupidity--of attribution of something that was so rare that an astronomer notes only one instance between 1845 and 1863, to an every-day occurrence-- Or Mr. Waldner's assimilative opinion that he had seen only ice crystals. Whether they were not very exclusive veils of a super-harem, or planes of a very light material, we have an impression of star-shaped things with transparent appendages that have been seen in the sky. Hosts of small bodies--black, this time--that were seen by the astronomers Herrick, Buys-Ballot, and De Cuppis (_L'Année Scientifique_, 1860-25); vast numbers of bodies that were seen by M. Lamey, to cross the moon (_L'Année Scientifique_, 1874-62); another instance of dark ones; prodigious number of dark, spherical bodies reported by Messier, June 17, 1777 (Arago, _OEuvres_, 9-38); considerable number of luminous bodies which appeared to move out from the sun, in diverse directions; seen at Havana, during eclipse of the sun, May 15, 1836, by Prof. Auber (Poey); M. Poey cites a similar instance, of Aug. 3, 1886; M. Lotard's opinion that they were birds (_L'Astronomie_, 1886-391); large number of small bodies crossing disk of the sun, some swiftly, some slowly; most of them globular, but some seemingly triangular, and some of more complicated structure; seen by M. Trouvelet, who, whether seeds, insects, birds, or other commonplace things, had never seen anything resembling these forms (_L'Année Scientifique_, 1885-8); report from the Rio de Janeiro Observatory, of vast numbers of bodies crossing the sun, some of them luminous and some of them dark, from some time in December, 1875, until Jan. 22, 1876 (_La Nature_, 1876-384). Of course, at a distance, any form is likely to look round or roundish: but we point out that we have notes upon the seeming of more complex forms. In _L'Astronomie_, 1886-70, is recorded M. Briguiere's observation, at Marseilles, April 15 and April 25, 1883, upon the crossing of the sun by bodies that were irregular in form. Some of them moved as if in alignment. Letter from Sir Robert Inglis to Col. Sabine (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1849-17): That, at 3 P.M., Aug. 8, 1849, at Gais, Switzerland, Inglis had seen thousands and thousands of brilliant white objects, like snowflakes in a cloudless sky. Though this display lasted about twenty-five minutes, not one of these seeming snowflakes was seen to fall. Inglis says that his servant "fancied" that he had seen something like wings on these--whatever they were. Upon page 18, of the _Report_, Sir John Herschel says that, in 1845 or 1846, his attention had been attracted by objects of considerable size, in the air, seemingly not far away. He had looked at them through a telescope. He says that they were masses of hay, not less than a yard or two in diameter. Still there are some circumstances that interest me. He says that, though no less than a whirlwind could have sustained these masses, the air about him was calm. "No doubt wind prevailed at the spot, but there was no roaring noise." None of these masses fell within his observation or knowledge. To walk a few fields away and find out more would seem not much to expect from a man of science, but it is one of our superstitions, that such a seeming trifle is just what--by the Spirit of an Era, we'll call it--one is not permitted to do. If those things were not masses of hay, and if Herschel had walked a little and found out, and had reported that he had seen strange objects in the air--that report, in 1846, would have been as misplaced as the appearance of a tail upon an embryo still in its gastrula era. I have noticed this inhibition in my own case many times. Looking back--why didn't I do this or that little thing that would have cost so little and have meant so much? Didn't belong to that era of my own development. _Nature_, 22-64: That, at Kattenau, Germany, about half an hour before sunrise, March 22, 1880, "an enormous number of luminous bodies rose from the horizon, and passed in a horizontal direction from east to west." They are described as having appeared in a zone or belt. "They shone with a remarkably brilliant light." So they've thrown lassos over our data to bring them back to earth. But they're lassos that cannot tighten. We can't pull out of them: we may step out of them, or lift them off. Some of us used to have an impression of Science sitting in calm, just judgment: some of us now feel that a good many of our data have been lynched. If a Crusade, perhaps from Mars to Jupiter, occur in the autumn--"seeds." If a Crusade or outpouring of celestial vandals is seen from this earth in the spring--"ice crystals." If we have record of a race of aerial beings, perhaps with no substantial habitat, seen by someone in India--"locusts." This will be disregarded: If locusts fly high, they freeze and fall in thousands. _Nature_, 47-581: Locusts that were seen in the mountains of India, at a height of 12,750 feet--"in swarms and dying by thousands." But no matter whether they fly high or fly low, no one ever wonders what's in the air when locusts are passing overhead, because of the falling of stragglers. I have especially looked this matter up--no mystery when locusts are flying overhead--constant falling of stragglers. _Monthly Notices_, 30-135: "An unusual phenomenon noticed by Lieut. Herschel, Oct. 17 and 18, 1870, while observing the sun, at Bangalore, India." Lieut. Herschel had noticed dark shadows crossing the sun--but away from the sun there were luminous, moving images. For two days bodies passed in a continuous stream, varying in size and velocity. The Lieutenant tries to explain, as we shall see, but he says: "As it was, the continuous flight, for two whole days, in such numbers, in the upper regions of the air, of beasts that left no stragglers, is a wonder of natural history, if not of astronomy." He tried different focusing--he saw wings--perhaps he saw planes. He says that he saw upon the objects either wings or phantom-like appendages. Then he saw something that was so bizarre that, in the fullness of his nineteenth-centuriness, he writes: "There was no longer doubt: they were locusts or flies of some sort." One of them had paused. It had hovered. Then it had whisked off. The Editor says that at that time "countless locusts had descended upon certain parts of India." We now have an instance that is extraordinary in several respects--super-voyagers or super-ravagers; angels, ragamuffins, crusaders, emigrants, aeronauts, or aerial elephants, or bison or dinosaurs--except that I think the thing had planes or wings--one of them has been photographed. It may be that in the history of photography no more extraordinary picture than this has ever been taken. _L'Astronomie_, 1885-347: That, at the Observatory of Zacatecas, Mexico, Aug. 12, 1883, about 2,500 meters above sea level, were seen a large number of small luminous bodies, entering upon the disk of the sun. M. Bonilla telegraphed to the Observatories of the City of Mexico and of Puebla. Word came back that the bodies were not visible there. Because of this parallax, M. Bonilla placed the bodies "relatively near the earth." But when we find out what he called "relatively near the earth"--birds or bugs or hosts of a Super-Tamerlane or army of a celestial Richard Coeur de Lion--our heresies rejoice anyway. His estimate is "less distance than the moon." One of them was photographed. See _L'Astronomie_, 1885-349. The photograph shows a long body surrounded by indefinite structures, or by the haze of wings or planes in motion. _L'Astronomie_, 1887-66; Signer Ricco, of the Observatory of Palermo, writes that, Nov. 30, 1880, at 8:30 o'clock in the morning, he was watching the sun, when he saw, slowly traversing its disk, bodies in two long, parallel lines, and a shorter, parallel line. The bodies looked winged to him. But so large were they that he had to think of large birds. He thought of cranes. He consulted ornithologists, and learned that the configuration of parallel lines agrees with the flight-formation of cranes. This was in 1880: anybody now living in New York City, for instance, would tell him that also it is a familiar formation of aeroplanes. But, because of data of focus and subtended angles, these beings or objects must have been high. Sig. Ricco argues that condors have been known to fly three or four miles high, and that heights reached by other birds have been estimated at two or three miles. He says that cranes have been known to fly so high that they have been lost to view. Our own acceptance, in conventional terms, is that there is not a bird of this earth that would not freeze to death at a height of more than four miles: that if condors fly three or four miles high, they are birds that are especially adapted to such altitudes. Sig. Ricco's estimate is that these objects or beings or cranes must have been at least five and a half miles high. 17 The vast dark thing that looked like a poised crow of unholy dimensions. Assuming that I shall ever have any readers, let him, or both of them, if I shall ever have such popularity as that, note how dim that bold black datum is at the distance of only two chapters. The question: Was it a thing or the shadow of a thing? Acceptance either way calls not for mere revision but revolution in the science of astronomy. But the dimness of the datum of only two chapters ago. The carved stone disk of Tarbes, and the rain that fell every afternoon for twenty--if I haven't forgotten, myself, whether it was twenty-three or twenty-five days!--upon one small area. We are all Thomsons, with brains that have smooth and slippery, though corrugated, surfaces--or that all intellection is associative--or that we remember that which correlates with a dominant--and a few chapters go by, and there's scarcely an impression that hasn't slid off our smooth and slippery brains, of Leverrier and the "planet Vulcan." There are two ways by which irreconcilables can be remembered--if they can be correlated in a system more nearly real than the system that rejects them--and by repetition and repetition and repetition. Vast black thing like a crow poised over the moon. The datum is so important to us, because it enforces, in another field, our acceptance that dark bodies of planetary size traverse this solar system. Our position: That the things have been seen: Also that their shadows have been seen. Vast black thing poised like a crow over the moon. So far it is a single instance. By a single instance, we mean the negligible. In _Popular Science_, 34-158, Serviss tells of a shadow that Schroeter saw, in 1788, in the lunar Alps. First he saw a light. But then, when this region was illuminated, he saw a round shadow where the light had been. Our own expression: That he saw a luminous object near the moon: that that part of the moon became illuminated, and the object was lost to view; but that then its shadow underneath was seen. Serviss explains, of course. Otherwise he'd not be Prof. Serviss. It's a little contest in relative approximations to realness. Prof. Serviss thinks that what Schroeter saw was the "round" shadow of a mountain--in the region that had become lighted. He assumes that Schroeter never looked again to see whether the shadow could be attributed to a mountain. That's the crux: conceivably a mountain could cast a round--and that means detached--shadow, in the lighted part of the moon. Prof. Serviss could, of course, explain why he disregards the light in the first place--maybe it had always been there "in the first place." If he couldn't explain, he'd still be an amateur. We have another datum. I think it is more extraordinary than-- Vast thing, black and poised, like a crow, over the moon. But only because it's more circumstantial, and because it has corroboration, do I think it more extraordinary than-- Vast poised thing, black as a crow, over the moon. Mr. H.C. Russell, who was usually as orthodox as anybody, I suppose--at least, he wrote "F.R.A.S." after his name--tells in the _Observatory_, 2-374, one of the wickedest, or most preposterous, stories that we have so far exhumed: That he and another astronomer, G.D. Hirst, were in the Blue fountains, near Sydney, N.S.W., and Mr. Hirst was looking at the moon-- He saw on the moon what Russell calls "one of those remarkable facts, which being seen should be recorded, although no explanation can at present be offered." That may be so. It is very rarely done. Our own expression upon evolution by successive dominants and their correlates is against it. On the other hand, we express that every era records a few observations out of harmony with it, but adumbratory or preparatory to the spirit of eras still to come. It's very rarely done. Lashed by the phantom-scourge of a now passing era, the world of astronomers is in a state of terrorism, though of a highly attenuated, modernized, devitalized kind. Let an astronomer see something that is not of the conventional, celestial sights, or something that it is "improper" to see--his very dignity is in danger. Some one of the corralled and scourged may stick a smile into his back. He'll be thought of unkindly. With a hardihood that is unusual in his world of ethereal sensitivenesses, Russell says, of Hirst's observation: "He found a large part of it covered with a dark shade, quite as dark as the shadow of the earth during an eclipse of the moon." But the climax of hardihood or impropriety or wickedness, preposterousness or enlightenment: "One could hardly resist the conviction that it was a shadow, yet it could not be the shadow of any known body." Richard Proctor was a man of some liberality. After a while we shall have a letter, which once upon a time we'd have called delirious--don't know that we could read such a thing now, for the first time, without incredulous laughter--which Mr. Proctor permitted to be published in _Knowledge_. But a dark, unknown world that could cast a shadow upon a large part of the moon, perhaps extending far beyond the limb of the moon; a shadow as deep as the shadow of this earth-- Too much for Mr. Proctor's politeness. I haven't read what he said, but it seems to have been a little coarse. Russell says that Proctor "freely used" his name in the _Echo_, of March 14, 1879, ridiculing this observation which had been made by Russell as well as Hirst. If it hadn't been Proctor, it would have been someone else--but one notes that the attack came out in a newspaper. There is no discussion of this remarkable subject, no mention in any other astronomic journal. The disregard was almost complete--but we do note that the columns of the _Observatory_ were open to Russell to answer Proctor. In the answer, I note considerable intermediateness. Far back in 1879, it would have been a beautiful positivism, if Russell had said-- "There was a shadow on the moon. Absolutely it was cast by an unknown body." According to our religion, if he had then given all his time to the maintaining of this one stand, of course breaking all friendships, all ties with his fellow astronomers, his apotheosis would have occurred, greatly assisted by means well known to quasi-existence when its compromises and evasions, and phenomena that are partly this and partly that, are flouted by the definite and uncompromising. It would be impossible in a real existence, but Mr. Russell, of quasi-existence, says that he did resist the conviction; that he had said that one could "hardly resist"; and most of his resentment is against Mr. Proctor's thinking that he had not resisted. It seems too bad--if apotheosis be desirable. The point in Intermediatism here is: Not that to adapt to the conditions of quasi-existence is to have what is called success in quasi-existence, but is to lose one's soul-- But is to lose "one's" chance of attaining soul, self, or entity. One indignation quoted from Proctor interests us: "What happens on the moon may at any time happen to this earth." Or: That is just the teaching of this department of Advanced Astronomy: That Russell and Hirst saw the sun eclipsed relatively to the moon by a vast dark body: That many times have eclipses occurred relatively to this earth, by vast, dark bodies: That there have been many eclipses that have not been recognized as eclipses by scientific kindergartens. There is a merger, of course. We'll take a look at it first--that, after all, it may have been a shadow that Hirst and Russell saw, but the only significance is that the sun was eclipsed relatively to the moon by a cosmic haze of some kind, or a swarm of meteors close together, or a gaseous discharge left behind by a comet. My own acceptance is that vagueness of shadow is a function of vagueness of intervention; that a shadow as dense as the shadow of this earth is cast by a body denser than hazes and swarms. The information seems definite enough in this respect--"quite as dark as the shadow of this earth during the eclipse of the moon." Though we may not always be as patient toward them as we should be, it is our acceptance that the astronomic primitives have done a great deal of good work: for instance, in the allaying of fears upon this earth. Sometimes it may seem as if all science were to us very much like what a red flag is to bulls and anti-socialists. It's not that: it's more like what unsquare meals are to bulls and anti-socialists--not the scientific, but the insufficient. Our acceptance is that Evil is the negative state, by which we mean the state of maladjustment, discord, ugliness, disorganization, inconsistency, injustice, and so on--as determined in Intermediateness, not by real standards, but only by higher approximations to adjustment, harmony, beauty, organization, consistency, justice, and so on. Evil is outlived virtue, or incipient virtue that has not yet established itself, or any other phenomenon that is not in seeming adjustment, harmony, consistency with a dominant. The astronomers have functioned bravely in the past. They've been good for business: the big interests think kindly, if at all, of them. It's bad for trade to have an intense darkness come upon an unaware community and frighten people out of their purchasing values. But if an obscuration be foretold, and if it then occur--may seem a little uncanny--only a shadow--and no one who was about to buy a pair of shoes runs home panic-stricken and saves the money. Upon general principles we accept that astronomers have quasi-systematized data of eclipses--or have included some and disregarded others. They have done well. They have functioned. But now they're negatives, or they're out of harmony-- If we are in harmony with a new dominant, or the spirit of a new era, in which Exclusionism must be overthrown; if we have data of many obscurations that have occurred, not only upon the moon, but upon our own earth, as convincing of vast intervening bodies, usually invisible, as is any regularized, predicted eclipse. One looks up at the sky. It seems incredible that, say, at the distance of the moon, there could be, but be invisible, a solid body, say, the size of the moon. One looks up at the moon, at a time when only a crescent of it is visible. The tendency is to build up the rest of it in one's mind; but the unillumined part looks as vacant as the rest of the sky, and it's of the same blueness as the rest of the sky. There's a vast area of solid substance before one's eyes. It's indistinguishable from the sky. In some of our little lessons upon the beauties of modesty and humility, we have picked out basic arrogances--tail of a peacock, horns of a stag, dollars of a capitalist--eclipses of astronomers. Though I have no desire for the job, I'd engage to list hundreds of instances in which the report upon an expected eclipse has been "sky overcast" or "weather unfavorable." In our Super-Hibernia, the unfavorable has been construed as the favorable. Some time ago, when we were lost, because we had not recognized our own dominant, when we were still of the unchosen and likely to be more malicious than we now are--because we have noted a steady tolerance creeping into our attitude--if astronomers are not to blame, but are only correlates to a dominant--we advertised a predicted eclipse that did not occur at all. Now, without any especial feeling, except that of recognition of the fate of all attempted absolutism, we give the instance, noting that, though such an evil thing to orthodoxy, it was orthodoxy that recorded the non-event. _Monthly Notices of the R.A.S._, 8-132: "Remarkable appearances during the total eclipse of the moon on March 19, 1848": In an extract from a letter from Mr. Forster, of Bruges, it is said that, according to the writer's observations at the time of the predicted total eclipse, the moon shone with about three times the intensity of the mean illumination of an eclipsed lunar disk: that the British Consul, at Ghent, who did not know of the predicted eclipse, had written enquiring as to the "blood-red" color of the moon. This is not very satisfactory to what used to be our malices. But there follows another letter, from another astronomer, Walkey, who had made observations at Clyst St. Lawrence: that, instead of an eclipse, the moon became--as is printed in italics--"most beautifully illuminated" ... "rather tinged with a deep red"... "the moon being as perfect with light as if there had been no eclipse whatever." I note that Chambers, in his work upon eclipses, gives Forster's letter in full--and not a mention of Walkey's letter. There is no attempt in _Monthly Notices_ to explain upon the notion of greater distance of the moon, and the earth's shadow falling short, which would make as much trouble for astronomers, if that were not foreseen, as no eclipse at all. Also there is no refuge in saying that virtually never, even in total eclipses, is the moon totally dark--"as perfect with light as if there had been no eclipse whatever." It is said that at the time there had been an aurora borealis, which might have caused the luminosity, without a datum that such an effect, by an aurora, had ever been observed upon the moon. But single instances--so an observation by Scott, in the Antarctic. The force of this datum lies in my own acceptance, based upon especially looking up this point, that an eclipse nine-tenths of totality has great effect, even though the sky be clouded. Scott (_Voyage of the Discovery_, vol. ii, p. 215): "There may have been an eclipse of the sun, Sept. 21, 1903, as the almanac said, but we should, none of us, have liked to swear to the fact." This eclipse had been set down at nine-tenths of totality. The sky was overcast at the time. So it is not only that many eclipses unrecognized by astronomers as eclipses have occurred, but that intermediatism, or impositivism, breaks into their own seemingly regularized eclipses. Our data of unregularized eclipses, as profound as those that are conventionally--or officially?--recognized, that have occurred relatively to this earth: In _Notes and Queries_ there are several allusions to intense darknesses that have occurred upon this earth, quite as eclipses occur, but that are not referable to any known eclipsing body. Of course there is no suggestion here that these darknesses may have been eclipses. My own acceptance is that if in the nineteenth century anyone had uttered such a thought as that, he'd have felt the blight of a Dominant; that Materialistic Science was a jealous god, excluding, as works of the devil, all utterances against the seemingly uniform, regular, periodic; that to defy him would have brought on--withering by ridicule--shrinking away by publishers--contempt of friends and family--justifiable grounds for divorce--that one who would so defy would feel what unbelievers in relics of saints felt in an earlier age; what befell virgins who forgot to keep fires burning, in a still earlier age--but that, if he'd almost absolutely hold out, just the same--new fixed star reported in _Monthly Notices_. Altogether, the point in Positivism here is that by Dominants and their correlates, quasi-existence strives for the positive state, aggregating, around a nucleus, or dominant, systematized members of a religion, a science, a society--but that "individuals" who do not surrender and submerge may of themselves highly approximate to positiveness--the fixed, the real, the absolute. In _Notes and Queries_, 2-4-139, there is an account of a darkness in Holland, in the midst of a bright day, so intense and terrifying that many panic-stricken persons lost their lives stumbling into the canals. _Gentleman's Magazine_, 33-414: A darkness that came upon London, Aug. 19, 1763, "greater than at the great eclipse of 1748." However, our preference is not to go so far back for data. For a list of historic "dark days," see Humboldt, _Cosmos_, 1-120. _Monthly Weather Review_, March, 1886-79: That, according to the _La Crosse Daily Republican_, of March 20, 1886, darkness suddenly settled upon the city of Oshkosh, Wis., at 3 P.M., March 19. In five minutes the darkness equaled that of midnight. Consternation. I think that some of us are likely to overdo our own superiority and the absurd fears of the Middle Ages-- Oshkosh. People in the streets rushing in all directions--horses running away--women and children running into cellars--little modern touch after all: gas meters instead of images and relics of saints. This darkness, which lasted from eight to ten minutes, occurred in a day that had been "light but cloudy." It passed from west to east, and brightness followed: then came reports from towns to the west of Oshkosh: that the same phenomenon had already occurred there. A "wave of total darkness" had passed from west to east. Other instances are recorded in the _Monthly Weather Review_, but, as to all of them, we have a sense of being pretty well-eclipsed, ourselves, by the conventional explanation that the obscuring body was only a very dense mass of clouds. But some of the instances are interesting--intense darkness at Memphis, Tenn., for about fifteen minutes, at 10 A.M., Dec. 2, 1904--"We are told that in some quarters a panic prevailed, and that some were shouting and praying and imagining that the end of the world had come." (_M.W.R._, 32-522.) At Louisville, Ky., March 7, 1911, at about 8 A.M.: duration about half an hour; had been raining moderately, and then hail had fallen. "The intense blackness and general ominous appearance of the storm spread terror throughout the city." (_M.W.R._, 39-345.) However, this merger between possible eclipses by unknown dark bodies and commonplace terrestrial phenomena is formidable. As to darknesses that have fallen upon vast areas, conventionality is--smoke from forest fires. In the _U.S. Forest Service Bulletin_, No. 117, F.G. Plummer gives a list of eighteen darknesses that have occurred in the United States and Canada. He is one of the primitives, but I should say that his dogmatism is shaken by vibrations from the new Dominant. His difficulty, which he acknowledges, but which he would have disregarded had he written a decade or so earlier, is the profundity of some of these obscurations. He says that mere smokiness cannot account for such "awe-inspiring dark days." So he conceives of eddies in the air, concentrating the smoke from forest fires. Then, in the inconsistency or discord of all quasi-intellection that is striving for consistency or harmony, he tells of the vastness of some of these darknesses. Of course Mr. Plummer did not really think upon this subject, but one does feel that he might have approximated higher to real thinking than by speaking of concentration and then listing data of enormous area, or the opposite of circumstances of concentration--because, of his nineteen instances, nine are set down as covering all New England. In quasi-existence, everything generates or is part of its own opposite. Every attempt at peace prepares the way for war; all attempts at justice result in injustice in some other respect: so Mr. Plummer's attempt to bring order into his data, with the explanation of darkness caused by smoke from forest fires, results in such confusion that he ends up by saying that these daytime darknesses have occurred "often with little or no turbidity of the air near the earth's surface"--or with no evidence at all of smoke--except that there is almost always a forest fire somewhere. However, of the eighteen instances, the only one that I'd bother to contest is the profound darkness in Canada and northern parts of the United States, Nov. 19, 1819--which we have already considered. Its concomitants: Lights in the sky; Fall of a black substance; Shocks like those of an earthquake. In this instance, the only available forest fire was one to the south of the Ohio River. For all I know, soot from a very great fire south of the Ohio might fall in Montreal, Canada, and conceivably, by some freak of reflection, light from it might be seen in Montreal, but the earthquake is not assimilable with a forest fire. On the other hand, it will soon be our expression that profound darkness, fall of matter from the sky, lights in the sky, and earthquakes are phenomena of the near approach of other worlds to this world. It is such comprehensiveness, as contrasted with inclusion of a few factors and disregard for the rest, that we call higher approximation to realness--or universalness. A darkness, of April 17, 1904, at Wimbledon, England (_Symons' Met. Mag._, 39-69). It came from a smokeless region: no rain, no thunder; lasted 10 minutes; too dark to go "even out in the open." As to darknesses in Great Britain, one thinks of fogs--but in _Nature_, 25-289, there are some observations by Major J. Herschel, upon an obscuration in London, Jan. 22, 1882, at 10:30 A.M., so great that he could hear persons upon the opposite side of the street, but could not see them--"It was obvious that there was no fog to speak of." _Annual Register_, 1857-132: An account by Charles A. Murray, British Envoy to Persia, of a darkness of May 20, 1857, that came upon Bagdad--"a darkness more intense than ordinary midnight, when neither stars nor moon are visible...." "After a short time the black darkness was succeeded by a red, lurid gloom, such as I never saw in any part of the world." "Panic seized the whole city." "A dense volume of red sand fell." This matter of sand falling seems to suggest conventional explanation enough, or that a simoon, heavily charged with terrestrial sand, had obscured the sun, but Mr. Murray, who says that he had had experience with simoons, gives his opinion that "it cannot have been a simoon." It is our comprehensiveness now, or this matter of concomitants of darknesses that we are going to capitalize. It is all very complicated and tremendous, and our own treatment can be but impressionistic, but a few of the rudiments of Advanced Seismology we shall now take up--or the four principal phenomena of another world's close approach to this world. If a large substantial mass, or super-construction, should enter this earth's atmosphere, it is our acceptance that it would sometimes--depending upon velocity--appear luminous or look like a cloud, or like a cloud with a luminous nucleus. Later we shall have an expression upon luminosity--different from the luminosity of incandescence--that comes upon objects falling from the sky, or entering this earth's atmosphere. Now our expression is that worlds have often come close to this earth, and that smaller objects--size of a haystack or size of several dozen skyscrapers lumped, have often hurtled through this earth's atmosphere, and have been mistaken for clouds, because they were enveloped in clouds-- Or that around something coming from the intense cold of inter-planetary space--that is of some regions: our own suspicion is that other regions are tropical--the moisture of this earth's atmosphere would condense into a cloud-like appearance around it. In _Nature_, 20-121, there is an account by Mr. S.W. Clifton, Collector of Customs, at Freemantle, Western Australia, sent to the Melbourne Observatory--a clear day--appearance of a small black cloud, moving not very swiftly--bursting into a ball of fire, of the apparent size of the moon-- Or that something with the velocity of an ordinary meteorite could not collect vapor around it, but that slower-moving objects--speed of a railway train, say--may. The clouds of tornadoes have so often been described as if they were solid objects that I now accept that sometimes they are: that some so-called tornadoes are objects hurtling through this earth's atmosphere, not only generating disturbances by their suctions, but crushing, with their bulk, all things in their way, rising and falling and finally disappearing, demonstrating that gravitation is not the power that the primitives think it is, if an object moving at relatively low velocity be not pulled to this earth, or being so momentarily affected, bounds away. In Finley's _Reports on the Character of 600 Tornadoes_ very suggestive bits of description occur: "Cloud bounded along the earth like a ball"-- Or that it was no meteorological phenomenon, but something very much like a huge solid ball that was bounding along, crushing and carrying with it everything within its field-- "Cloud bounded along, coming to the earth every eight hundred or one thousand yards." Here's an interesting bit that I got somewhere else. I offer it as a datum in super-biology, which, however, is a branch of advanced science that I'll not take up, restricting to things indefinitely called "objects"-- "The tornado came wriggling, jumping, whirling like a great green snake, darting out a score of glistening fangs." Though it's interesting, I think that's sensational, myself. It may be that vast green snakes sometimes rush past this earth, taking a swift bite wherever they can, but, as I say, that's a super-biologic phenomenon. Finley gives dozens of instances of tornado clouds that seem to me more like solid things swathed in clouds, than clouds. He notes that, in the tornado at Americus, Georgia, July 18, 1881, "a strange sulphurous vapor was emitted from the cloud." In many instances, objects, or meteoritic stones, that have come from this earth's externality, have had a sulphurous odor. Why a wind effect should be sulphurous is not clear. That a vast object from external regions should be sulphurous is in line with many data. This phenomenon is described in the _Monthly Weather Review_, July, 1881, as "a strange sulphurous vapor ... burning and sickening all who approached close enough to breathe it." The conventional explanation of tornadoes as wind-effects--which we do not deny in some instances--is so strong in the United States that it is better to look elsewhere for an account of an object that has hurtled through this earth's atmosphere, rising and falling and defying this earth's gravitation. _Nature_, 7-112: That, according to a correspondent to the _Birmingham Morning News_, the people living near King's Sutton, Banbury, saw, about one o'clock, Dec. 7, 1872, something like a haycock hurtling through the air. Like a meteor it was accompanied by fire and a dense smoke and made a noise like that of a railway train. "It was sometimes high in the air and sometimes near the ground." The effect was tornado-like: trees and walls were knocked down. It's a late day now to try to verify this story, but a list is given of persons whose property was injured. We are told that this thing then disappeared "all at once." These are the smaller objects, which may be derailed railway trains or big green snakes, for all I know--but our expression upon approach to this earth by vast dark bodies-- That likely they'd be made luminous: would envelop in clouds, perhaps, or would have their own clouds-- But that they'd quake, and that they'd affect this earth with quakes-- And that then would occur a fall of matter from such a world, or rise of matter from this earth to a nearby world, or both fall and rise, or exchange of matter--process known to Advanced Seismology as celestio-metathesis-- Except that--if matter from some other world--and it would be like someone to get it into his head that we absolutely deny gravitation, just because we cannot accept orthodox dogmas--except that, if matter from another world, filling the sky of this earth, generally, as to a hemisphere, or locally, should be attracted to this earth, it would seem thinkable that the whole thing should drop here, and not merely its surface-materials. Objects upon a ship's bottom. From time to time they drop to the bottom of the ocean. The ship does not. Or, like our acceptance upon dripping from aerial ice-fields, we think of only a part of a nearby world succumbing, except in being caught in suspension, to this earth's gravitation, and surface-materials falling from that part-- Explain or express or accept, and what does it matter? Our attitude is: Here are the data. See for yourself. What does it matter what my notions may be? Here are the data. But think for yourself, or think for myself, all mixed up we must be. A long time must go by before we can know Florida from Long Island. So we've had data of fishes that have fallen from our now established and respectabilized Super-Sargasso Sea--which we've almost forgotten, it's now so respectable--but we shall have data of fishes that have fallen during earthquakes. These we accept were dragged down from ponds or other worlds that have been quaked, when only a few miles away, by this earth, some other world also quaking this earth. In a way, or in its principle, our subject is orthodox enough. Only grant proximity of other worlds--which, however, will not be a matter of granting, but will be a matter of data--and one conventionally conceives of their surfaces quaked--even of a whole lake full of fishes being quaked and dragged down from one of them. The lake full of fishes may cause a little pain to some minds, but the fall of sand and stones is pleasantly enough thought of. More scientific persons, or more faithful hypnotics than we, have taken up this subject, unpainfully, relatively to the moon. For instance, Perrey has gone over 15,000 records of earthquakes, and he has correlated many with proximities of the moon, or has attributed many to the pull of the moon when nearest this earth. Also there is a paper upon this subject in the _Proc. Roy. Soc. of Cornwall_, 1845. Or, theoretically, when at its closest to this earth, the moon quakes the face of this earth, and is itself quaked--but does not itself fall to this earth. As to showers of matter that may have come from the moon at such times--one can go over old records and find what one pleases. That is what we now shall do. Our expressions are for acceptance only. Our data: We take them from four classes of phenomena that have preceded or accompanied earthquakes: Unusual clouds, darkness profound, luminous appearances in the sky, and falls of substances and objects whether commonly called meteoritic or not. Not one of these occurrences fits in with principles of primitive, or primary, seismology, and every one of them is a datum of a quaked body passing close to this earth or suspended over it. To the primitives there is not a reason in the world why a convulsion of this earth's surface should be accompanied by unusual sights in the sky, by darkness, or by the fall of substances or objects from the sky. As to phenomena like these, or storms, preceding earthquakes, the irreconcilability is still greater. It was before 1860 that Perrey made his great compilation. We take most of our data from lists compiled long ago. Only the safe and unpainful have been published in recent years--at least in ambitious, voluminous form. The restraining hand of the "System"--as we call it, whether it has any real existence or not--is tight upon the sciences of today. The uncanniest aspect of our quasi-existence that I know of is that everything that seems to have one identity has also as high a seeming of everything else. In this oneness of allness, or continuity, the protecting hand strangles; the parental stifles; love is inseparable from phenomena of hate. There is only Continuity--that is in quasi-existence. _Nature_, at least in its correspondents' columns, still evades this protective strangulation, and the _Monthly Weather Review_ is still a rich field of unfaithful observation: but, in looking over other long-established periodicals, I have noted their glimmers of quasi-individuality fade gradually, after about 1860, and the surrender of their attempted identities to a higher attempted organization. Some of them, expressing Intermediateness-wide endeavor to localize the universal, or to localize self, soul, identity, entity--or positiveness or realness--held out until as far as 1880; traces findable up to 1890--and then, expressing the universal process--except that here and there in the world's history there may have been successful approximations to positiveness by "individuals"--who only then became individuals and attained to selves or souls of their own--surrendered, submitted, became parts of a higher organization's attempt to individualize or systematize into a complete thing, or to localize the universal or the attributes of the universal. After the death of Richard Proctor, whose occasional illiberalities I'd not like to emphasize too much, all succeeding volumes of _Knowledge_ have yielded scarcely an unconventionality. Note the great number of times that the _American Journal of Science_ and the _Report of the British Association_ are quoted: note that, after, say, 1885, they're scarcely mentioned in these inspired but illicit pages--as by hypnosis and inertia, we keep on saying. About 1880. Throttle and disregard. But the coercion could not be positive, and many of the excommunicated continued to creep in; or, even to this day, some of the strangled are faintly breathing. Some of our data have been hard to find. We could tell stories of great labor and fruitless quests that would, though perhaps imperceptibly, stir the sympathy of a Mr. Symons. But, in this matter of concurrence of earthquakes with aerial phenomena, which are as unassociable with earthquakes, if internally caused, as falls of sand on convulsed small boys full of sour apples, the abundance of so-called evidence is so great that we can only sketchily go over the data, beginning with Robert Mallet's Catalogue (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1852), omitting some extraordinary instances, because they occurred before the eighteenth century: Earthquake "preceded" by a violent tempest, England, Jan. 8, 1704--"preceded" by a brilliant meteor, Switzerland, Nov. 4, 1704--"luminous cloud, moving at high velocity, disappearing behind the horizon," Florence, Dec. 9, 1731--"thick mists in the air, through which a dim light was seen: several weeks before the shock, globes of light had been seen in the air," Swabia, May 22, 1732--rain of earth, Carpentras, France, Oct. 18, 1737--a black cloud, London, March 19, 1750--violent storm and a strange star of octagonal shape, Slavange, Norway, April 15, 1752--balls of fire from a streak in the sky, Augermannland, 1752--numerous meteorites, Lisbon, Oct. 15, 1755--"terrible tempests" over and over--"falls of hail" and "brilliant meteors," instance after instance--"an immense globe," Switzerland, Nov. 2, 1761--oblong, sulphurous cloud, Germany, April, 1767--extraordinary mass of vapor, Boulogne, April, 1780--heavens obscured by a dark mist, Grenada, Aug. 7, 1804--"strange, howling noises in the air, and large spots obscuring the sun," Palermo, Italy, April 16, 1817--"luminous meteor moving in the same direction as the shock," Naples, Nov. 22, 1821--fire ball appearing in the sky: apparent size of the moon, Thuringerwald, Nov. 29, 1831. And, unless you be polarized by the New Dominant, which is calling for recognition of multiplicities of external things, as a Dominant, dawning new over Europe in 1492, called for recognition of terrestrial externality to Europe--unless you have this contact with the new, you have no affinity for these data--beans that drop from a magnet--irreconcilables that glide from the mind of a Thomson-- Or my own acceptance that we do not really think at all; that we correlate around super-magnets that I call Dominants--a Spiritual Dominant in one age, and responsively to it up spring monasteries, and the stake and the cross are its symbols: a Materialist Dominant, and up spring laboratories, and microscopes and telescopes and crucibles are its ikons--that we're nothing but iron filings relatively to a succession of magnets that displace preceding magnets. With no soul of your own, and with no soul of my own--except that some day some of us may no longer be Intermediatisms, but may hold out against the cosmos that once upon a time thousands of fishes were cast from one pail of water--we have psycho-valency for these data, if we're obedient slaves to the New Dominant, and repulsion to them, if we're mere correlates to the Old Dominant. I'm a soulless and selfless correlate to the New Dominant, myself: I see what I have to see. The only inducement I can hold out, in my attempt to rake up disciples, is that some day the New will be fashionable: the new correlates will sneer at the old correlates. After all, there is some inducement to that--and I'm not altogether sure it's desirable to end up as a fixed star. As a correlate to the New Dominant, I am very much impressed with some of these data--the luminous object that moved in the same direction as an earthquake--it seems very acceptable that a quake followed this thing as it passed near this earth's surface. The streak that was seen in the sky--or only a streak that was visible of another world--and objects, or meteorites, that were shaken down from it. The quake at Carpentras, France: and that, above Carpentras, was a smaller world, more violently quaked, so that earth was shaken down from it. But I like best the super-wolves that were seen to cross the sun during the earthquake at Palermo. They howled. Or the loves of the worlds. The call they feel for one another. They try to move closer and howl when they get there. The howls of the planets. I have discovered a new unintelligibility. In the _Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal_--have to go away back to 1841--days of less efficient strangulation--Sir David Milne lists phenomena of quakes in Great Britain. I pick out a few that indicate to me that other worlds were near this earth's surface: Violent storm before a shock of 1703--ball of fire "preceding," 1750--a large ball of fire seen upon day following a quake, 1755--"uncommon phenomenon in the air: a large luminous body, bent like a crescent, which stretched itself over the heavens, 1816--vast ball of fire, 1750--black rains and black snows, 1755--numerous instances of upward projection--or upward attraction?--during quakes--preceded by a cloud, very black and lowering," 1795--fall of black powder, preceding a quake, by six hours, 1837. Some of these instances seem to me to be very striking--a smaller world: it is greatly racked by the attraction of this earth--black substance is torn down from it--not until six hours later, after an approach still closer, does this earth suffer perturbation. As to the extraordinary spectacle of a thing, world, super-construction, that was seen in the sky, in 1816, I have not yet been able to find out more. I think that here our acceptance is relatively sound: that this occurrence was tremendously of more importance than such occurrence as, say, transits of Venus, upon which hundreds of papers have been written--that not another mention have I found, though I have not looked so especially as I shall look for more data--that all but undetailed record of this occurrence was suppressed. Altogether we have considerable agreement here between data of vast masses that do not fall to this earth, but from which substances fall, and data of fields of ice from which ice may not fall, but from which water may drip. I'm beginning to modify: that, at a distance from this earth, gravitation has more effect than we have supposed, though less effect than the dogmatists suppose and "prove." I'm coming out stronger for the acceptance of a Neutral Zone--that this earth, like other magnets, has a neutral zone, in which is the Super-Sargasso Sea, and in which other worlds may be buoyed up, though projecting parts may be subject to this earth's attraction-- But my preference: Here are the data. I now have one of the most interesting of the new correlates. I think I should have brought it in before, but, whether out of place here, because not accompanied by earthquake, or not, we'll have it. I offer it as an instance of an eclipse, by a vast, dark body, that has been seen and reported by an astronomer. The astronomer is M. Lias: the phenomenon was seen by him, at Pernambuco, April 11, 1860. _Comptes Rendus_, 50-1197: It was about noon--sky cloudless--suddenly the light of the sun was diminished. The darkness increased, and, to illustrate its intensity, we are told that the planet Venus shone brilliant. But Venus was of low visibility at this time. The observation that burns incense to the New Dominant is: That around the sun appeared a corona. There are many other instances that indicate proximity of other world's during earthquakes. I note a few--quake and an object in the sky, called "a large, luminous meteor" (_Quar. Jour. Roy. Inst._, 5-132); luminous body in the sky, earthquake, and fall of sand, Italy, Feb. 12 and 13, 1870 (_La Science Pour Tous_, 15-159); many reports upon luminous object in the sky and earthquake, Connecticut, Feb. 27, 1883 (_Monthly Weather Review_, February, 1883); luminous object, or meteor, in the sky, fall of stones from the sky, and earthquake, Italy, Jan. 20, 1891 (_L'Astronomie_, 1891-154); earthquake and prodigious number of luminous bodies, or globes, in the air, Boulogne, France, June 7, 1779 (Sestier, "_La Foudre_," 1-169); earthquake at Manila, 1863, and "curious luminous appearance in the sky" (Ponton, _Earthquakes_, p. 124). The most notable appearance of fishes during an earthquake is that of Riobamba. Humboldt sketched one of them, and it's an uncanny-looking thing. Thousands of them appeared upon the ground during this tremendous earthquake. Humboldt says that they were cast up from subterranean sources. I think not myself, and have data for thinking not, but there'd be such a row arguing back and forth that it's simpler to consider a clearer instance of the fall of living fishes from the sky, during an earthquake. I can't quite accept, myself, whether a large lake, and all the fishes in it, was torn down from some other world, or a lake in the Super-Sargasso Sea, distracted between two pulling worlds, was dragged down to this earth-- Here are the data: _La Science Pour Tous_, 6-191: Feb. 16, 1861. An earthquake at Singapore. Then came an extraordinary downpour of rain--or as much water as any good-sized lake would consist of. For three days this rain or this fall of water came down in torrents. In pools on the ground, formed by this deluge, great numbers of fishes were found. The writer says that he had, himself, seen nothing but water fall from the sky. Whether I'm emphasizing what a deluge it was or not, he says that so terrific had been the downpour that he had not been able to see three steps away from him. The natives said that the fishes had fallen from the sky. Three days later the pools dried up and many dead fishes were found, but, in the first place--though that's an expression for which we have an instinctive dislike--the fishes had been active and uninjured. Then follows material for another of our little studies in the phenomena of disregard. A psycho-tropism here is mechanically to take pen in hand and mechanically write that fishes found on the ground after a heavy rainfall came from overflowing streams. The writer of the account says that some of the fishes had been found in his courtyard, which was surrounded by high walls--paying no attention to this, a correspondent (_La Science Pour Tous_, 6-317) explains that in the heavy rain a body of water had probably overflowed, carrying fishes with it. We are told by the first writer that these fishes of Singapore were of a species that was very abundant near Singapore. So I think, myself, that a whole lakeful of them had been shaken down from the Super-Sargasso Sea, under the circumstances we have thought of. However, if appearance of strange fishes after an earthquake be more pleasing in the sight, or to the nostrils, of the New Dominant, we faithfully and piously supply that incense--An account of the occurrence at Singapore was read by M. de Castelnau, before the French Academy. M. de Castelnau recalled that, upon a former occasion, he had submitted to the Academy the circumstance that fishes of a new species had appeared at the Cape of Good Hope, after an earthquake. It seems proper, and it will give luster to the new orthodoxy, now to have an instance in which, not merely quake and fall of rocks or meteorites, or quake and either eclipse or luminous appearances in the sky have occurred, but in which are combined all the phenomena, one or more of which, when accompanying earthquake, indicate, in our acceptance, the proximity of another world. This time a longer duration is indicated than in other instances. In the _Canadian Institute Proceedings_, 2-7-198, there is an account, by the Deputy Commissioner at Dhurmsalla, of the extraordinary Dhurmsalla meteorite--coated with ice. But the combination of events related by him is still more extraordinary: That within a few months of the fall of this meteorite there had been a fall of live fishes at Benares, a shower of red substance at Furruckabad, a dark spot observed on the disk of the sun, an earthquake, "an unnatural darkness of some duration," and a luminous appearance in the sky that looked like an aurora borealis-- But there's more to this climax: We are introduced to a new order of phenomena: Visitors. The Deputy Commissioner writes that, in the evening, after the fall of the Dhurmsalla meteorite, or mass of stone covered with ice, he saw lights. Some of them were not very high. They appeared and went out and reappeared. I have read many accounts of the Dhurmsalla meteorite--July 28, 1860--but never in any other of them a mention of this new correlate--something as out of place in the nineteenth century as would have been an aeroplane--the invention of which would not, in our acceptance, have been permitted, in the nineteenth century, though adumbrations to it were permitted. This writer says that the lights moved like fire balloons, but: "I am sure that they were neither fire balloons, lanterns, nor bonfires, or any other thing of that sort, but bona fide lights in the heavens." It's a subject for which we shall have to have a separate expression--trespassers upon territory to which something else has a legal right--perhaps someone lost a rock, and he and his friends came down looking for it, in the evening--or secret agents, or emissaries, who had an appointment with certain esoteric ones near Dhurmsalla--things or beings coming down to explore, and unable to stay down long-- In a way, another strange occurrence during an earthquake is suggested. The ancient Chinese tradition--the marks like hoof marks in the ground. We have thought--with a low degree of acceptance--of another world that may be in secret communication with certain esoteric ones of this earth's inhabitants--and of messages in symbols like hoof marks that are sent to some receptor, or special hill, upon this earth--and of messages that at times miscarry. This other world comes close to this world--there are quakes--but advantage of proximity is taken to send a message--the message, designed for a receptor in India, perhaps, or in Central Europe, miscarries all the way to England--marks like the marks of the Chinese tradition are found upon a beach, in Cornwall, after an earthquake-- _Phil. Trans._, 50-500: After the quake of July 15, 1757, upon the sands of Penzance, Cornwall, in an area of more than 100 square yards, were found marks like hoof prints, except that they were not crescentic. We feel a similarity, but note an arbitrary disregard of our own, this time. It seems to us that marks described as "little cones surrounded by basins of equal diameter" would be like hoof prints, if hoofs printed complete circles. Other disregards are that there were black specks on the tops of cones, as if something, perhaps gaseous, had issued from them; that from one of these formations came a gush of water as thick as a man's wrist. Of course the opening of springs is common in earthquakes--but we suspect, myself, that the Negative Absolute is compelling us to put in this datum and its disorders. There's another matter in which the Negative Absolute seems to work against us. Though to super-chemistry, we have introduced the principle of celestio-metathesis, we have no good data of exchange of substances during proximities. The data are all of falls and not of upward translations. Of course upward impulses are common during earthquakes, but I haven't a datum upon a tree or a fish or a brick or a man that ever did go up and stay up and that never did come down again. Our classic of the horse and barn occurred in what was called a whirlwind. It is said that, in an earthquake in Calabria, paving stones shot up far in the air. The writer doesn't specifically say that they came down again, but something seems to tell me they did. The corpses of Riobamba. Humboldt reported that, in the quake of Riobamba, "bodies were torn upward from graves"; that "the vertical motion was so strong that bodies were tossed several hundred feet in the air." I explain. I explain that, if in the center of greatest violence of an earthquake, anything ever has gone up, and has kept on going up, the thoughts of the nearest observers were very likely upon other subjects. The quay of Lisbon. We are told that it went down. A vast throng of persons ran to the quay for refuge. The city of Lisbon was in profound darkness. The quay and all the people on it disappeared. If it and they went down--not a single corpse, not a shred of clothing, not a plank of the quay, nor so much as a splinter of it ever floated to the surface. 18 The New Dominant. I mean "primarily" all that opposes Exclusionism-- That Development or Progress or Evolution is Attempt to Positivize, and is a mechanism by which a positive existence is recruited--that what we call existence is a womb of infinitude, and is itself only incubatory--that eventually all attempts are broken down by the falsely excluded. Subjectively, the breaking down is aided by our own sense of false and narrow limitations. So the classic and academic artists wrought positivist paintings, and expressed the only ideal that I am conscious of, though we so often hear of "ideals" instead of different manifestations, artistically, scientifically, theologically, politically, of the One Ideal. They sought to satisfy, in its artistic aspect, cosmic craving for unity or completeness, sometimes called harmony, called beauty in some aspects. By disregard they sought completeness. But the light-effects that they disregarded, and their narrow confinement to standardized subjects brought on the revolt of the Impressionists. So the Puritans tried to systematize, and they disregarded physical needs, or vices, or relaxations: they were invaded and overthrown when their narrowness became obvious and intolerable. All things strive for positiveness, for themselves, or for quasi-systems of which they are parts. Formality and the mathematic, the regular and the uniform are aspects of the positive state--but the Positive is the Universal--so all attempted positiveness that seems to satisfy in the aspects of formality and regularity, sooner or later disqualifies in the aspect of wideness or universalness. So there is revolt against the science of today, because the formulated utterances that were regarded as final truths in a past generation, are now seen to be insufficiencies. Every pronouncement that has opposed our own acceptances has been found to be a composition like any academic painting: something that is arbitrarily cut off from relations with environment, or framed off from interfering and disturbing data, or outlined with disregards. Our own attempt has been to take in the included, but also to take in the excluded into wider expressions. We accept, however, that for every one of our expressions there are irreconcilables somewhere--that final utterance would include all things. However, of such is the gossip of angels. The final is unutterable in quasi-existence, where to think is to include but also to exclude, or be not final. If we admit that for every opinion we have expressed, there must somewhere be an irreconcilable, we are Intermediatists and not positivists; not even higher positivists. Of course it may be that some day we shall systematize and dogmatize and refuse to think of anything that we may be accused of disregarding, and believe instead of merely accepting: then, if we could have a wider system, which would acknowledge no irreconcilables we'd be higher positivists. So long as we only accept, we are not higher positivists, but our feeling is that the New Dominant, even though we have thought of it only as another enslavement, will be the nucleus for higher positivism--and that it will be the means of elevating into infinitude a new batch of fixed stars--until, as a recruiting instrument, it, too, will play out, and will give way to some new medium for generating absoluteness. It is our acceptance that all astronomers of today have lost their souls, or, rather, all chance of attaining Entity, but that Copernicus and Kepler and Galileo and Newton, and, conceivably, Leverrier are now fixed stars. Some day I shall attempt to identify them. In all this, I think we're quite a Moses. We point out the Promised Land, but, unless we be cured of our Intermediatism, will never be reported in _Monthly Notices_, ourself. In our acceptance, Dominants, in their succession, displace preceding Dominants not only because they are more nearly positive, but because the old Dominants, as recruiting mediums, play out. Our expression is that the New Dominant, of Wider Inclusions, is now manifesting throughout the world, and that the old Exclusionism is everywhere breaking down. In physics Exclusionism is breaking down by its own researches in radium, for instance, and in its speculations upon electrons, or its merging away into metaphysics, and by the desertion that has been going on for many years, by such men as Gurney, Crookes, Wallace, Flammarion, Lodge, to formerly disregarded phenomena--no longer called "spiritualism" but now "psychic research." Biology is in chaos: conventional Darwinites mixed up with mutationists and orthogenesists and followers of Wisemann, who take from Darwinism one of its pseudo-bases, and nevertheless try to reconcile their heresies with orthodoxy. The painters are metaphysicians and psychologists. The breaking down of Exclusionism in China and Japan and in the United States has astonished History. The science of astronomy is going downward so that, though Pickering, for instance, did speculate upon a Trans-Neptunian planet, and Lowell did try to have accepted heretical ideas as to marks on Mars, attention is now minutely focused upon such technicalities as variations in shades of Jupiter's fourth satellite. I think that, in general acceptance, over-refinement indicates decadence. I think that the stronghold of Inclusionism is in aeronautics. I think that the stronghold of the Old Dominant, when it was new, was in the invention of the telescope. Or that coincidentally with the breakdown of Exclusionism appears the means of finding out--whether there are vast aerial fields of ice and floating lakes full of frogs and fishes or not--where carved stones and black substances and great quantities of vegetable matter and flesh, which may be dragons' flesh, come from--whether there are inter-planetary trade routes and vast areas devastated by Super-Tamerlanes--whether sometimes there are visitors to this earth--who might be pursued and captured and questioned. 19 I have industriously sought data for an expression upon birds, but the prospecting has not been very quasi-satisfactory. I think I rather emphasize our industriousness, because a charge likely to be brought against the attitude of Acceptance is that one who only accepts must be one of languid interest and little application of energy. It doesn't seem to work out: we are very industrious. I suggest to some of our disciples that they look into the matter of messages upon pigeons, of course attributed to earthly owners, but said to be undecipherable. I'd do it, ourselves, only that would be selfish. That's more of the Intermediatism that will keep us out of the firmament: Positivism is absolute egoism. But look back in the time of Andrée's Polar Expedition. Pigeons that would have no publicity ordinarily, were often reported at that time. In the _Zoologist_, 3-18-21, is recorded an instance of a bird (puffin) that had fallen to the ground with a fractured head. Interesting, but mere speculation--but what solid object, high in the air, had that bird struck against? Tremendous red rain in France, Oct. 16 and 17, 1846; great storm at the time, and red rain supposed to have been colored by matter swept up from this earth's surface, and then precipitated (_Comptes Rendus_, 23-832). But in _Comptes Rendus_, 24-625, the description of this red rain differs from one's impression of red, sandy or muddy water. It is said that this rain was so vividly red and so blood-like that many persons in France were terrified. Two analyses are given (_Comptes Rendus_, 24-812). One chemist notes a great quantity of corpuscles--whether blood-like corpuscles or not--in the matter. The other chemist sets down organic matter at 35 per cent. It may be that an inter-planetary dragon had been slain somewhere, or that this red fluid, in which were many corpuscles, came from something not altogether pleasant to contemplate, about the size of the Catskill Mountains, perhaps--but the present datum is that with this substance, larks, quail, ducks, and water hens, some of them alive, fell at Lyons and Grenoble and other places. I have notes upon other birds that have fallen from the sky, but unaccompanied by the red rain that makes the fall of birds in France peculiar, and very peculiar, if it be accepted that the red substance was extra-mundane. The other notes are upon birds that have fallen from the sky, in the midst of storms, or of exhausted, but living, birds, falling not far from a storm-area. But now we shall have an instance for which I can find no parallel: fall of dead birds, from a clear sky, far-distant from any storm to which they could be attributed--so remote from any discoverable storm that-- My own notion is that, in the summer of 1896, something, or some beings, came as near to this earth as they could, upon a hunting expedition; that, in the summer of 1896, an expedition of super-scientists passed over this earth, and let down a dragnet--and what would it catch, sweeping through the air, supposing it to have reached not quite to this earth? In the _Monthly Weather Review_, May, 1917, W.L. McAtee quotes from the Baton Rouge correspondence to the _Philadelphia Times_: That, in the summer of 1896, into the streets of Baton Rouge, La., and from a "clear sky," fell hundreds of dead birds. There were wild ducks and cat birds, woodpeckers, and "many birds of strange plumage," some of them resembling canaries. Usually one does not have to look very far from any place to learn of a storm. But the best that could be done in this instance was to say: "There had been a storm on the coast of Florida." And, unless he have psycho-chemic repulsion for the explanation, the reader feels only momentary astonishment that dead birds from a storm in Florida should fall from an unstormy sky in Louisiana, and with his intellect greased like the plumage of a wild duck, the datum then drops off. Our greasy, shiny brains. That they may be of some use after all: that other modes of existence place a high value upon them as lubricants; that we're hunted for them; a hunting expedition to this earth--the newspapers report a tornado. If from a clear sky, or a sky in which there were no driven clouds, or other evidences of still-continuing wind-power--or, if from a storm in Florida, it could be accepted that hundreds of birds had fallen far away, in Louisiana, I conceive, conventionally, of heavier objects having fallen in Alabama, say, and of the fall of still heavier objects still nearer the origin in Florida. The sources of information of the Weather Bureau are widespread. It has no records of such falls. So a dragnet that was let down from above somewhere-- Or something that I learned from the more scientific of the investigators of psychic phenomena: The reader begins their works with prejudice against telepathy and everything else of psychic phenomena. The writers deny spirit-communication, and say that the seeming data are data of "only telepathy." Astonishing instances of seeming clairvoyance--"only telepathy." After a while the reader finds himself agreeing that it's only telepathy--which, at first, had been intolerable to him. So maybe, in 1896, a super-dragnet did not sweep through this earth's atmosphere, gathering up all the birds within its field, the meshes then suddenly breaking-- Or that the birds of Baton Rouge were only from the Super-Sargasso Sea-- Upon which we shall have another expression. We thought we'd settled that, and we thought we'd establish that, but nothing's ever settled, and nothing's ever established, in a real sense, if, in a real sense, there is nothing in quasiness. I suppose there had been a storm somewhere, the storm in Florida, perhaps, and many birds had been swept upward into the Super-Sargasso Sea. It has frigid regions and it has tropical regions--that birds of diverse species had been swept upward, into an icy region, where, huddling together for warmth, they had died. Then, later, they had been dislodged--meteor coming along--boat--bicycle--dragon--don't know what did come along--something dislodged them. So leaves of trees, carried up there in whirlwinds, staying there years, ages, perhaps only a few months, but then falling to this earth at an unseasonable time for dead leaves--fishes carried up there, some of them dying and drying, some of them living in volumes of water that are in abundance up there, or that fall sometimes in the deluges that we call "cloudbursts." The astronomers won't think kindly of us, and we haven't done anything to endear ourselves to the meteorologists--but we're weak and mawkish Intermediatists--several times we've tried to get the aeronauts with us--extraordinary things up there: things that curators of museums would give up all hope of ever being fixed stars, to obtain: things left over from whirlwinds of the time of the Pharaohs, perhaps: or that Elijah did go up in the sky in something like a chariot, and may not be Vega, after all, and that there may be a wheel or so left of whatever he went up in. We basely suggest that it would bring a high price--but sell soon, because after a while there'd be thousands of them hawked around-- We weakly drop a hint to the aeronauts. In the _Scientific American_, 33-197, there is an account of some hay that fell from the sky. From the circumstances we incline to accept that this hay went up, in a whirlwind, from this earth, in the first place, reached the Super-Sargasso Sea, and remained there a long time before falling. An interesting point in this expression is the usual attribution to a local and coinciding whirlwind, and identification of it--and then data that make that local whirlwind unacceptable-- That, upon July 27, 1875, small masses of damp hay had fallen at Monkstown, Ireland. In the _Dublin Daily Express_, Dr. J.W. Moore had explained: he had found a nearby whirlwind, to the south of Monkstown, that coincided. But, according to the _Scientific American_, a similar fall had occurred near Wrexham, England, two days before. In November, 1918, I made some studies upon light objects thrown into the air. Armistice-day. I suppose I should have been more emotionally occupied, but I made notes upon torn-up papers thrown high in the air from windows of office buildings. Scraps of paper did stay together for a while. Several minutes, sometimes. _Cosmos_, 3-4-574: That, upon the 10th of April, 1869, at Autriche (Indre-et-Loire) a great number of oak leaves--enormous segregation of them--fell from the sky. Very calm day. So little wind that the leaves fell almost vertically. Fall lasted about ten minutes. Flammarion, in _The Atmosphere_, p. 412, tells this story. He has to find a storm. He does find a squall--but it had occurred upon April 3rd. Flammarion's two incredibilities are--that leaves could remain a week in the air: that they could stay together a week in the air. Think of some of your own observations upon papers thrown from an aeroplane. Our one incredibility: That these leaves had been whirled up six months before, when they were common on the ground, and had been sustained, of course not in the air, but in a region gravitationally inert; and had been precipitated by the disturbances of April rains. I have no records of leaves that have so fallen from the sky in October or November, the season when one might expect dead leaves to be raised from one place and precipitated somewhere else. I emphasize that this occurred in April. _La Nature_, 1889-2-94: That, upon April 19, 1889, dried leaves, of different species, oak, elm, etc., fell from the sky. This day, too, was a calm day. The fall was tremendous. The leaves were seen to fall fifteen minutes, but, judging from the quantity on the ground, it is the writer's opinion that they had already been falling half an hour. I think that the geyser of corpses that sprang from Riobamba toward the sky must have been an interesting sight. If I were a painter, I'd like that subject. But this cataract of dried leaves, too, is a study in the rhythms of the dead. In this datum, the point most agreeable to us is the very point that the writer in _La Nature_ emphasizes. Windlessness. He says that the surface of the Loire was "absolutely smooth." The river was strewn with leaves as far as he could see. _L'Astronomie_, 1894-194: That, upon the 7th of April, 1894, dried leaves fell at Clairvaux and Outre-Aube, France. The fall is described as prodigious. Half an hour. Then, upon the 11th, a fall of dried leaves occurred at Pontcarré. It is in this recurrence that we found some of our opposition to the conventional explanation. The Editor (Flammarion) explains. He says that the leaves had been caught up in a cyclone which had expended its force; that the heavier leaves had fallen first. We think that that was all right for 1894, and that it was quite good enough for 1894. But, in these more exacting days, we want to know how wind-power insufficient to hold some leaves in the air could sustain others four days. The factors in this expression are unseasonableness, not for dried leaves, but for prodigious numbers of dried leaves; direct fall, windlessness, month of April, and localization in France. The factor of localization is interesting. Not a note have I upon fall of leaves from the sky, except these notes. Were the conventional explanation, or "old correlate" acceptable, it would seem that similar occurrences in other regions should be as frequent as in France. The indication is that there may be quasi-permanent undulations in the Super-Sargasso Sea, or a pronounced inclination toward France-- Inspiration: That there may be a nearby world complementary to this world, where autumn occurs at the time that is springtime here. Let some disciple have that. But there may be a dip toward France, so that leaves that are borne high there, are more likely to be held in suspension than highflying leaves elsewhere. Some other time I shall take up Super-geography, and be guilty of charts. I think, now, that the Super-Sargasso Sea is an oblique belt, with changing ramifications, over Great Britain, France, Italy, and on to India. Relatively to the United States I am not very clear, but think especially of the Southern States. The preponderance of our data indicates frigid regions aloft. Nevertheless such phenomena as putrefaction have occurred often enough to make super-tropical regions, also, acceptable. We shall have one more datum upon the Super-Sargasso Sea. It seems to me that, by this time, our requirements of support and reinforcement and agreement have been quite as rigorous for acceptance as ever for belief: at least for full acceptance. By virtue of mere acceptance, we may, in some later book, deny the Super-Sargasso Sea, and find that our data relate to some other complementary world instead--or the moon--and have abundant data for accepting that the moon is not more than twenty or thirty miles away. However, the Super-Sargasso Sea functions very well as a nucleus around which to gather data that oppose Exclusionism. That is our main motive: to oppose Exclusionism. Or our agreement with cosmic processes. The climax of our general expression upon the Super-Sargasso Sea. Coincidentally appears something else that may overthrow it later. _Notes and Queries_, 8-12-228: That in the province of Macerata, Italy (summer of 1897?) an immense number of small, blood-colored clouds covered the sky. About an hour later a storm broke, and myriad seeds fell to the ground. It is said that they were identified as products of a tree found only in Central Africa and the Antilles. If--in terms of conventional reasoning--these seeds had been high in the air, they had been in a cold region. But it is our acceptance that these seeds had, for a considerable time, been in a warm region, and for a time longer than is attributable to suspension by wind-power: "It is said that a great number of the seeds were in the first stage of germination." 20 The New Dominant. Inclusionism. In it we have a pseudo-standard. We have a datum, and we give it an interpretation, in accordance with our pseudo-standard. At present we have not the delusions of Absolutism that may have translated some of the positivists of the nineteenth century to heaven. We are Intermediatists--but feel a lurking suspicion that we may some day solidify and dogmatize and illiberalize into higher positivists. At present we do not ask whether something be reasonable or preposterous, because we recognize that by reasonableness and preposterousness are meant agreement and disagreement with a standard--which must be a delusion--though not absolutely, of course--and must some day be displaced by a more advanced quasi-delusion. Scientists in the past have taken the positivist attitude--is this or that reasonable or unreasonable? Analyze them and we find that they meant relatively to a standard, such as Newtonism, Daltonism, Darwinism, or Lyellism. But they have written and spoken and thought as if they could mean real reasonableness and real unreasonableness. So our pseudo-standard is Inclusionism, and, if a datum be a correlate to a more widely inclusive outlook as to this earth and its externality and relations with externality, its harmony with Inclusionism admits it. Such was the process, and such was the requirement for admission in the days of the Old Dominant: our difference is in underlying Intermediatism, or consciousness that though we're more nearly real, we and our standards are only quasi-- Or that all things--in our intermediate state--are phantoms in a super-mind in a dreaming state--but striving to awaken to realness. Though in some respects our own Intermediatism is unsatisfactory, our underlying feeling is-- That in a dreaming mind awakening is accelerated--if phantoms in that mind know that they're only phantoms in a dream. Of course, they too are quasi, or--but in a relative sense--they have an essence of what is called realness. They are derived from experience or from senes-relations, even though grotesque distortions. It seems acceptable that a table that is seen when one is awake is more nearly real than a dreamed table, which, with fifteen or twenty legs, chases one. So now, in the twentieth century, with a change of terms, and a change in underlying consciousness, our attitude toward the New Dominant is the attitude of the scientists of the nineteenth century to the Old Dominant. We do not insist that our data and interpretations shall be as shocking, grotesque, evil, ridiculous, childish, insincere, laughable, ignorant to nineteenth-centuryites as were their data and interpretations to the medieval-minded. We ask only whether data and interpretations correlate. If they do, they are acceptable, perhaps only for a short time, or as nuclei, or scaffolding, or preliminary sketches, or as gropings and tentativenesses. Later, of course, when we cool off and harden and radiate into space most of our present mobility, which expresses in modesty and plasticity, we shall acknowledge no scaffoldings, gropings or tentativenesses, but think we utter absolute facts. A point in Intermediatism here is opposed to most current speculations upon Development. Usually one thinks of the spiritual as higher than the material, but, in our acceptance, quasi-existence is a means by which the absolutely immaterial materializes absolutely, and, being intermediate, is a state in which nothing is finally either immaterial or material, all objects, substances, thoughts, occupying some grade of approximation one way or the other. Final solidification of the ethereal is, to us, the goal of cosmic ambition. Positivism is Puritanism. Heat is Evil. Final Good is Absolute Frigidity. An Arctic winter is very beautiful, but I think that an interest in monkeys chattering in palm trees accounts for our own Intermediatism. Visitors. Our confusion here, out of which we are attempting to make quasi-order, is as great as it has been throughout this book, because we have not the positivist's delusion of homogeneity. A positivist would gather all data that seem to relate to one kind of visitors and coldly disregard all other data. I think of as many different kinds of visitors to this earth as there are visitors to New York, to a jail, to a church--some persons go to church to pick pockets, for instance. My own acceptance is that either a world or a vast super-construction--or a world, if red substances and fishes fell from it--hovered over India in the summer of 1860. Something then fell from somewhere, July 17, 1860, at Dhurmsalla. Whatever "it" was, "it" is so persistently alluded to as "a meteorite" that I look back and see that I adopted this convention myself. But in the London _Times_, Dec. 26, 1860, Syed Abdoolah, Professor of Hindustani, University College, London, writes that he had sent to a friend in Dhurmsalla, for an account of the stones that had fallen at that place. The answer: "... divers forms and sizes, many of which bore great resemblance to ordinary cannon balls just discharged from engines of war." It's an addition to our data of spherical objects that have arrived upon this earth. Note that they are spherical stone objects. And, in the evening of this same day that something--took a shot at Dhurmsalla--or sent objects upon which there may be decipherable markings--lights were seen in the air-- I think, myself, of a number of things, beings, whatever they were, trying to get down, but resisted, like balloonists, at a certain altitude, trying to get farther up, but resisted. Not in the least except to good positivists, or the homogeneous-minded, does this speculation interfere with the concept of some other world that is in successful communication with certain esoteric ones upon this earth, by a code of symbols that print in rock, like symbols of telephotographers in selenium. I think that sometimes, in favorable circumstances, emissaries have come to this earth--secret meetings-- Of course it sounds-- But: Secret meetings--emissaries--esoteric ones in Europe, before the war broke out-- And those who suggested that such phenomena could be. However, as to most of our data, I think of super-things that have passed close to this earth with no more interest in this earth than have passengers upon a steamship in the bottom of the sea--or passengers may have a keen interest, but circumstances of schedules and commercial requirements forbid investigation of the bottom of the sea. Then, on the other hand, we may have data of super-scientific attempts to investigate phenomena of this earth from above--perhaps by beings from so far away that they had never even heard that something, somewhere, asserts a legal right to this earth. Altogether, we're good intermediatists, but we can't be very good hypnotists. Still another source of the merging away of our data: That, upon general principles of Continuity, if super-vessels, or super-vehicles, have traversed this earth's atmosphere, there must be mergers between them and terrestrial phenomena: observations upon them must merge away into observations upon clouds and balloons and meteors. We shall begin with data that we cannot distinguish ourselves and work our way out of mergers into extremes. In the _Observatory_, 35-168, it is said that, according to a newspaper, March 6, 1912, residents of Warmley, England, were greatly excited by something that was supposed to be "a splendidly illuminated aeroplane, passing over the village." "The machine was apparently traveling at a tremendous rate, and came from the direction of Bath, and went on toward Gloucester." The Editor says that it was a large, triple-headed fireball. "Tremendous indeed!" he says. "But we are prepared for anything nowadays." That is satisfactory. We'd not like to creep up stealthily and then jump out of a corner with our data. This Editor, at least, is prepared to read-- _Nature_, Oct. 27, 1898: A correspondent writes that, in the County Wicklow, Ireland, at about 6 o'clock in the evening, he had seen, in the sky, an object that looked like the moon in its three-quarter aspect. We note the shape which approximates to triangularity, and we note that in color it is said to have been golden yellow. It moved slowly, and in about five minutes disappeared behind a mountain. The Editor gives his opinion that the object may have been an escaped balloon. In _Nature_, Aug. 11, 1898, there is a story, taken from the July number of the _Canadian Weather Review_, by the meteorologist, F.F. Payne: that he had seen, in the Canadian sky, a large, pear-shaped object, sailing rapidly. At first he supposed that the object was a balloon, "its outline being sharply defined." "But, as no cage was seen, it was concluded that it must be a mass of cloud." In about six minutes this object became less definite--whether because of increasing distance or not--"the mass became less dense, and finally it disappeared." As to cyclonic formation--"no whirling motion could be seen." _Nature_, 58-294: That, upon July 8, 1898, a correspondent had seen, at Kiel, an object in the sky, colored red by the sun, which had set. It was about as broad as a rainbow, and about twelve degrees high. "It remained in its original brightness about five minutes, and then faded rapidly, and then remained almost stationary again, finally disappearing about eight minutes after I first saw it." In an intermediate existence, we quasi-persons have nothing to judge by because everything is its own opposite. If a hundred dollars a week be a standard of luxurious living to some persons, it is poverty to others. We have instances of three objects that were seen in the sky in a space of three months, and this concurrence seems to me to be something to judge by. Science has been built upon concurrence: so have been most of the fallacies and fanaticisms. I feel the positivism of a Leverrier, or instinctively take to the notion that all three of these observations relate to the same object. However, I don't formulate them and predict the next transit. Here's another chance for me to become a fixed star--but as usual--oh, well-- A point in Intermediatism: That the Intermediatist is likely to be a flaccid compromiser. Our own attitude: Ours is a partly positive and partly negative state, or a state in which nothing is finally positive or finally negative-- But, if positivism attract you, go ahead and try: you will be in harmony with cosmic endeavor--but Continuity will resist you. Only to have appearance in quasiness is to be proportionately positive, but beyond a degree of attempted positivism, Continuity will rise to pull you back. Success, as it is called--though there is only success-failure in Intermediateness--will, in Intermediateness, be yours proportionately as you are in adjustment with its own state, or some positivism mixed with compromise and retreat. To be very positive is to be a Napoleon Bonaparte, against whom the rest of civilization will sooner or later combine. For interesting data, see newspaper accounts of fate of one Dowie, of Chicago. Intermediatism, then, is recognition that our state is only a quasi-state: it is no bar to one who desires to be positive: it is recognition that he cannot be positive and remain in a state that is positive-negative. Or that a great positivist--isolated--with no system to support him--will be crucified, or will starve to death, or will be put in jail and beaten to death--that these are the birth-pangs of translation to the Positive Absolute. So, though positive-negative, myself, I feel the attraction of the positive pole of our intermediate state, and attempt to correlate these three data: to see them homogeneously; to think that they relate to one object. In the aeronautic journals and in the London _Times_ there is no mention of escaped balloons, in the summer or fall of 1898. In the _New York Times_ there is no mention of ballooning in Canada or the United States, in the summer of 1898. London _Times_, Sept. 29, 1885: A clipping from the _Royal Gazette_, of Bermuda, of Sept. 8, 1885, sent to the _Times_ by General Lefroy: That, upon Aug. 27, 1885, at about 8:30 A.M., there was observed by Mrs. Adelina D. Bassett, "a strange object in the clouds, coming from the north." She called the attention of Mrs. L. Lowell to it, and they were both somewhat alarmed. However, they continued to watch the object steadily for some time. It drew nearer. It was of triangular shape, and seemed to be about the size of a pilot-boat mainsail, with chains attached to the bottom of it. While crossing the land it had appeared to descend, but, as it went out to sea, it ascended, and continued to ascend, until it was lost to sight high in the clouds. Or with such power to ascend, I don't think much myself of the notion that it was an escaped balloon, partly deflated. Nevertheless, General Lefroy, correlating with Exclusionism, attempts to give a terrestrial interpretation to this occurrence. He argues that the thing may have been a balloon that had escaped from France or England--or the only aerial thing of terrestrial origin that, even to this date of about thirty-five years later, has been thought to have crossed the Atlantic Ocean. He accounts for the triangular form by deflation--"a shapeless bag, barely able to float." My own acceptance is that great deflation does not accord with observations upon its power to ascend. In the _Times_, Oct. 1, 1885, Charles Harding, of the R.M.S., argues that if it had been a balloon from Europe, surely it would have been seen and reported by many vessels. Whether he was as good a Briton as the General or not, he shows awareness of the United States--or that the thing may have been a partly collapsed balloon that had escaped from the United States. General Lefroy wrote to _Nature_ about it (_Nature_, 33-99), saying--whatever his sensitivenesses may have been--that the columns of the _Times_ were "hardly suitable" for such a discussion. If, in the past, there had been more persons like General Lefroy, we'd have better than the mere fragments of data that in most cases are too broken up very well to piece together. He took the trouble to write to a friend of his, W.H. Gosling, of Bermuda--who also was an extraordinary person. He went to the trouble of interviewing Mrs. Bassett and Mrs. Lowell. Their description to him was somewhat different: An object from which nets were suspended-- Deflated balloon, with its network hanging from it-- A super-dragnet? That something was trawling overhead? The birds of Baton Rouge. Mr. Gosling wrote that the item of chains, or suggestion of a basket that had been attached, had originated with Mr. Bassett, who had not seen the object. Mr. Gosling mentioned a balloon that had escaped from Paris in July. He tells of a balloon that fell in Chicago, September 17, or three weeks later than the Bermuda object. It's one incredibility against another, with disregards and convictions governed by whichever of the two Dominants looms stronger in each reader's mind. That he can't think for himself any more than I can is understood. My own correlates: I think that we're fished for. It may be that we're highly esteemed by super-epicures somewhere. It makes me more cheerful when I think that we may be of some use after all. I think that dragnets have often come down and have been mistaken for whirlwinds and waterspouts. Some accounts of seeming structure in whirlwinds and waterspouts are astonishing. And I have data that, in this book, I can't take up at all--mysterious disappearances. I think we're fished for. But this is a little expression on the side: relates to trespassers; has nothing to do with the subject that I shall take up at some other time--or our use to some other mode of seeming that has a legal right to us. _Nature_, 33-137: "Our Paris correspondent writes that in relation to the balloon which is said to have been seen over Bermuda, in September, no ascent took place in France which can account for it." Last of August: not September. In the London _Times_ there is no mention of balloon ascents in Great Britain, in the summer of 1885, but mention of two ascents in France. Both balloons had escaped. In _L'Aéronaute_, August, 1885, it is said that these balloons had been sent up from fêtes of the fourteenth of July--44 days before the observation at Bermuda. The aeronauts were Gower and Eloy. Gower's balloon was found floating on the ocean, but Eloy's balloon was not found. Upon the 17th of July it was reported by a sea captain: still in the air; still inflated. But this balloon of Eloy's was a small exhibition balloon, made for short ascents from fêtes and fair grounds. In _La Nature_, 1885-2-131, it is said that it was a very small balloon, incapable of remaining long in the air. As to contemporaneous ballooning in the United States, I find only one account: an ascent in Connecticut, July 29, 1885. Upon leaving this balloon, the aeronauts had pulled the "rip cord," "turning it inside out." (_New York Times_, Aug. 10, 1885.) To the Intermediatist, the accusation of "anthropomorphism" is meaningless. There is nothing in anything that is unique or positively different. We'd be materialists were it not quite as rational to express the material in terms of the immaterial as to express the immaterial in terms of the material. Oneness of allness in quasiness. I will engage to write the formula of any novel in psycho-chemic terms, or draw its graph in psycho-mechanic terms: or write, in romantic terms, the circumstances and sequences of any chemic or electric or magnetic reaction: or express any historic event in algebraic terms--or see Boole and Jevons for economic situations expressed algebraically. I think of the Dominants as I think of persons--not meaning that they are real persons--not meaning that we are real persons-- Or the Old Dominant and its jealousy, and its suppression of all things and thoughts that endangered its supremacy. In reading discussions of papers, by scientific societies, I have often noted how, when they approached forbidden--or irreconcilable--subjects, the discussions were thrown into confusion and ramification. It's as if scientific discussions have often been led astray--as if purposefully--as if by something directive, hovering over them. Of course I mean only the Spirit of all Development. Just so, in any embryo, cells that would tend to vary from the appearances of their era are compelled to correlate. In _Nature_, 90-169, Charles Tilden Smith writes that, at Chisbury, Wiltshire, England, April 8, 1912, he saw something in the sky-- "--unlike anything that I had ever seen before." "Although I have studied the skies for many years, I have never seen anything like it." He saw two stationary dark patches upon clouds. The extraordinary part: They were stationary upon clouds that were rapidly moving. They were fan-shaped--or triangular--and varied in size, but kept the same position upon different clouds as cloud after cloud came along. For more than half an hour Mr. Smith watched these dark patches-- His impression as to the one that appeared first: That it was "really a heavy shadow cast upon a thin veil of clouds by some unseen object away in the west, which was intercepting the sun's rays." Upon page 244, of this volume of _Nature_, is a letter from another correspondent, to the effect that similar shadows are cast by mountains upon clouds, and that no doubt Mr. Smith was right in attributing the appearance to "some unseen object, which was intercepting the sun's rays." But the Old Dominant that was a jealous Dominant, and the wrath of the Old Dominant against such an irreconcilability as large, opaque objects in the sky, casting down shadows upon clouds. Still the Dominants are suave very often, or are not absolute gods, and the way attention was led away from this subject is an interesting study in quasi-divine bamboozlement. Upon page 268, Charles J.P. Cave, the meteorologist, writes that, upon April 5 and 8, at Ditcham Park, Petersfield, he had observed a similar appearance, while watching some pilot balloons--but he describes something not in the least like a shadow on clouds, but a stationary cloud--the inference seems to be that the shadows at Chisbury may have been shadows of pilot balloons. Upon page 322, another correspondent writes upon shadows cast by mountains; upon page 348 someone else carries on the divergence by discussing this third letter: then someone takes up the third letter mathematically; and then there is a correction of error in this mathematic demonstration--I think it looks very much like what I think it looks like. But the mystery here: That the dark patches at Chisbury could not have been cast by stationary pilot balloons that were to the west, or that were between clouds and the setting sun. If, to the west of Chisbury, a stationary object were high in the air, intercepting the sun's rays, the shadow of the stationary object would not have been stationary, but would have moved higher and higher with the setting of the sun. I have to think of something that is in accord with no other data whatsoever: A luminous body--not the sun--in the sky--but, because of some unknown principle or atmospheric condition, its light extended down only about to the clouds; that from it were suspended two triangular objects, like the object that was seen in Bermuda; that it was this light that fell short of the earth that these objects intercepted; that the objects were drawn up and lowered from something overhead, so that, in its light, their shadows changed size. If my grope seem to have no grasp in it, and, if a stationary balloon will, in half an hour, not cast a stationary shadow from the setting sun, we have to think of two triangular objects that accurately maintained positions in a line between sun and clouds, and at the same time approached and receded from clouds. Whatever it may have been, it's enough to make the devout make the sign of the crucible, or whatever the devotees of the Old Dominant do in the presence of a new correlate. Vast, black thing poised like a crow over the moon. It is our acceptance that these two shadows of Chisbury looked, from the moon, like vast things, black as crows, poised over the earth. It is our acceptance that two triangular luminosities and then two triangular patches, like vast black things, poised like crows over the moon, and, like the triangularities at Chisbury, have been seen upon, or over, the moon: _Scientific American_, 46-49: Two triangular, luminous appearances reported by several observers in Lebanon, Conn., evening of July 3, 1882, on the moon's upper limb. They disappeared, and two dark triangular appearances that looked like notches were seen three minutes later upon the lower limb. They approached each other, met and instantly disappeared. The merger here is notches that have at times been seen upon the moon's limb: thought to be cross sections of craters (_Monthly Notices, R.A.S._, 37-432). But these appearances of July 3, 1882, were vast upon the moon--"seemed to be cutting off or obliterating nearly a quarter of its surface." Something else that may have looked like a vast black crow poised over this earth from the moon: _Monthly Weather Review_, 41-599: Description of a shadow in the sky, of some unseen body, April 8, 1913, Fort Worth, Texas--supposed to have been cast by an unseen cloud--this patch of shade moved with the declining sun. _Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1854-410: Account by two observers of a faint but distinctly triangular object, visible for six nights in the sky. It was observed from two stations that were not far apart. But the parallax was considerable. Whatever it was, it was, acceptably, relatively close to this earth. I should say that relatively to phenomena of light we are in confusion as great as some of the discords that orthodoxy is in relatively to light. Broadly and intermediatistically, our position is: That light is not really and necessarily light--any more than is anything else really and necessarily anything--but an interpretation of a mode of force, as I suppose we have to call it, as light. At sea level, the earth's atmosphere interprets sunlight as red or orange or yellow. High up on mountains the sun is blue. Very high up on mountains the zenith is black. Or it is orthodoxy to say that in inter-planetary space, where there is no air, there is no light. So then the sun and comets are black, but this earth's atmosphere, or, rather, dust particles in it, interpret radiations from these black objects as light. We look up at the moon. The jet-black moon is so silvery white. I have about fifty notes indicating that the moon has atmosphere: nevertheless most astronomers hold out that the moon has no atmosphere. They have to: the theory of eclipses would not work out otherwise. So, arguing in conventional terms, the moon is black. Rather astonishing--explorers upon the moon--stumbling and groping in intense darkness--with telescopes powerful enough, we could see them stumbling and groping in brilliant light. Or, just because of familiarity, it is not now obvious to us how the preposterousnesses of the old system must have seemed to the correlates of the system preceding it. Ye jet-black silvery moon. Altogether, then, it may be conceivable that there are phenomena of force that are interpretable as light as far down as the clouds, but not in denser strata of air, or just the opposite of familiar interpretations. I now have some notes upon an occurrence that suggests a force not interpreted by air as light, but interpreted, or reflected by the ground as light. I think of something that, for a week, was suspended over London: of an emanation that was not interpreted as light until it reached the ground. _Lancet_, June 1, 1867: That every night for a week, a light had appeared in Woburn Square, London, upon the grass of a small park, enclosed by railings. Crowds gathering--police called out "for the special service of maintaining order and making the populace move on." The Editor of the _Lancet_ went to the Square. He says that he saw nothing but a patch of light falling upon an arbor at the northeast corner of the enclosure. Seems to me that that was interesting enough. In this Editor we have a companion for Mr. Symons and Dr. Gray. He suggests that the light came from a street lamp--does not say that he could trace it to any such origin himself--but recommends that the police investigate neighboring street lamps. I'd not say that such a commonplace as light from a street lamp would not attract and excite and deceive great crowds for a week--but I do accept that any cop who was called upon for extra work would have needed nobody's suggestion to settle that point the very first thing. Or that something in the sky hung suspended over a London Square for a week. 21 _Knowledge_, Dec. 28, 1883: "Seeing so many meteorological phenomena in your excellent paper, _Knowledge_, I am tempted to ask for an explanation of the following, which I saw when on board the British India Company's steamer _Patna_, while on a voyage up the Persian Gulf. In May, 1880, on a dark night, about 11:30 P.M., there suddenly appeared on each side of the ship an enormous luminous wheel, whirling around, the spokes of which seemed to brush the ship along. The spokes would be 200 or 300 yards long, and resembled the birch rods of the dames' schools. Each wheel contained about sixteen spokes, and, although the wheels must have been some 500 or 600 yards in diameter, the spokes could be distinctly seen all the way round. The phosphorescent gleam seemed to glide along flat on the surface of the sea, no light being visible in the air above the water. The appearance of the spokes could be almost exactly represented by standing in a boat and flashing a bull's eye lantern horizontally along the surface of the water, round and round. I may mention that the phenomenon was also seen by Captain Avern, of the _Patna_, and Mr. Manning, third officer. "Lee Fore Brace. "P.S.--The wheels advanced along with the ship for about twenty minutes.--L.F.B." _Knowledge_, Jan. 11, 1884: Letter from "A. Mc. D.": That "Lee Fore Brace," "who sees 'so many meteorological phenomena in your excellent paper,' should have signed himself 'The Modern Ezekiel,' for his vision of wheels is quite as wonderful as the prophet's." The writer then takes up the measurements that were given, and calculates a velocity at the circumference of a wheel, of about 166 yards per second, apparently considering that especially incredible. He then says: "From the nom de plume he assumes, it might be inferred that your correspondent is in the habit of 'sailing close to the wind.'" He asks permission to suggest an explanation of his own. It is that before 11:30 P.M. there had been numerous accidents to the "main brace," and that it had required splicing so often that almost any ray of light would have taken on a rotary motion. In _Knowledge_, Jan. 25, 1884, Mr. "Brace" answers and signs himself "J.W. Robertson": "I don't suppose A. Mc. D. means any harm, but I do think it's rather unjust to say a man is drunk because he sees something out of the common. If there's one thing I pride myself upon, it's being able to say that never in my life have I indulged in anything stronger than water." From this curiosity of pride, he goes on to say that he had not intended to be exact, but to give his impressions of dimensions and velocity. He ends amiably: "However, 'no offense taken, where I suppose none is meant.'" To this letter Mr. Proctor adds a note, apologizing for the publication of "A. Mc. D's." letter, which had come about by a misunderstood instruction. Then Mr. Proctor wrote disagreeable letters, himself, about other persons--what else would you expect in a quasi-existence? The obvious explanation of this phenomenon is that, under the surface of the sea, in the Persian Gulf, was a vast luminous wheel: that it was the light from its submerged spokes that Mr. Robertson saw, shining upward. It seems clear that this light did shine upward from origin below the surface of the sea. But at first it is not so clear how vast luminous wheels, each the size of a village, ever got under the surface of the Persian Gulf: also there may be some misunderstanding as to what they were doing there. A deep-sea fish, and its adaptation to a dense medium-- That, at least in some regions aloft, there is a medium dense even to gelatinousness-- A deep-sea fish, brought to the surface of the ocean: in a relatively attenuated medium, it disintegrates-- Super-constructions adapted to a dense medium in inter-planetary space--sometimes, by stresses of various kinds, they are driven into this earth's thin atmosphere-- Later we shall have data to support just this: that things entering this earth's atmosphere disintegrate and shine with a light that is not the light of incandescence: shine brilliantly, even if cold-- Vast wheel-like super-constructions--they enter this earth's atmosphere, and, threatened with disintegration, plunge for relief into an ocean, or into a denser medium. Of course the requirements now facing us are: Not only data of vast wheel-like super-constructions that have relieved their distresses in the ocean, but data of enormous wheels that have been seen in the air, or entering the ocean, or rising from the ocean and continuing their voyages. Very largely we shall concern ourselves with enormous fiery objects that have either plunged into the ocean or risen from the ocean. Our acceptance is that, though disruption may intensify into incandescence, apart from disruption and its probable fieriness, things that enter this earth's atmosphere have a cold light which would not, like light from molten matter, be instantly quenched by water. Also it seems acceptable that a revolving wheel would, from a distance, look like a globe; that a revolving wheel, seen relatively close by, looks like a wheel in few aspects. The mergers of ball-lightning and meteorites are not resistances to us: our data are of enormous bodies. So we shall interpret--and what does it matter? Our attitude throughout this book: That here are extraordinary data--that they never would be exhumed, and never would be massed together, unless-- Here are the data: Our first datum is of something that was once seen to enter an ocean. It's from the puritanic publication, _Science_, which has yielded us little material, or which, like most puritans, does not go upon a spree very often. Whatever the thing could have been, my impression is of tremendousness, or of bulk many times that of all meteorites in all museums combined: also of relative slowness, or of long warning of approach. The story, in _Science_, 5-242, is from an account sent to the Hydrographic Office, at Washington, from the branch office, at San Francisco: That, at midnight, Feb. 24, 1885, Lat. 37° N., and Long. 170° E., or somewhere between Yokohama and Victoria, the captain of the bark _Innerwich_ was aroused by his mate, who had seen something unusual in the sky. This must have taken appreciable time. The captain went on deck and saw the sky turning fiery red. "All at once, a large mass of fire appeared over the vessel, completely blinding the spectators." The fiery mass fell into the sea. Its size may be judged by the volume of water cast up by it, said to have rushed toward the vessel with a noise that was "deafening." The bark was struck flat aback, and "a roaring, white sea passed ahead." "The master, an old, experienced mariner, declared that the awfulness of the sight was beyond description." In _Nature_, 37-187, and _L'Astronomie_; 1887-76, we are told that an object, described as "a large ball of fire," was seen to rise from the sea, near Cape Race. We are told that it rose to a height of fifty feet, and then advanced close to the ship, then moving away, remaining visible about five minutes. The supposition in _Nature_ is that it was "ball lightning," but Flammarion, _Thunder and Lightning_, p. 68, says that it was enormous. Details in the American _Meteorological Journal_, 6-443--Nov. 12, 1887--British steamer _Siberian_--that the object had moved "against the wind" before retreating--that Captain Moore said that at about the same place he had seen such appearances before. _Report of the British Association_, 1861-30: That, upon June 18, 1845, according to the _Malta Times_, from the brig _Victoria_, about 900 miles east of Adalia, Asia Minor (36° 40' 56", N. Lat.: 13° 44' 36" E. Long.), three luminous bodies were seen to issue from the sea, at about half a mile from the vessel. They were visible about ten minutes. The story was never investigated, but other accounts that seem acceptably to be other observations upon this same sensational spectacle came in, as if of their own accord, and were published by Prof. Baden-Powell. One is a letter from a correspondent at Mt. Lebanon. He describes only two luminous bodies. Apparently they were five times the size of the moon: each had appendages, or they were connected by parts that are described as "sail-like or streamer-like," looking like "large flags blown out by a gentle breeze." The important point here is not only suggestion of structure, but duration. The duration of meteors is a few seconds: duration of fifteen seconds is remarkable, but I think there are records up to half a minute. This object, if it were all one object, was visible at Mt. Lebanon about one hour. An interesting circumstance is that the appendages did not look like trains of meteors, which shine by their own light, but "seemed to shine by light from the main bodies." About 900 miles west of the position of the _Victoria_ is the town of Adalia, Asia Minor. At about the time of the observation reported by the captain of the _Victoria_, the Rev. F. Hawlett, F.R.A.S., was in Adalia. He, too, saw this spectacle, and sent an account to Prof. Baden-Powell. In his view it was a body that appeared and then broke up. He places duration at twenty minutes to half an hour. In the _Report of the British Association_, 1860-82, the phenomenon was reported from Syria and Malta, as two very large bodies "nearly joined." _Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1860-77: That, at Cherbourg, France, Jan. 12, 1836, was seen a luminous body, seemingly two-thirds the size of the moon. It seemed to rotate on an axis. Central to it there seemed to be a dark cavity. For other accounts, all indefinite, but distortable into data of wheel-like objects in the sky, see _Nature_, 22-617; London _Times_, Oct. 15, 1859; _Nature_, 21-225; _Monthly Weather Review_, 1883-264. _L'Astronomie_, 1894-157: That, upon the morning of Dec. 20, 1893, an appearance in the sky was seen by many persons in Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina. A luminous body passed overhead, from west to east, until at about 15 degrees in the eastern horizon, it appeared to stand still for fifteen or twenty minutes. According to some descriptions it was the size of a table. To some observers it looked like an enormous wheel. The light was a brilliant white. Acceptably it was not an optical illusion--the noise of its passage through the air was heard. Having been stationary, or having seemed to stand still fifteen or twenty minutes, it disappeared, or exploded. No sound of explosion was heard. Vast wheel-like constructions. They're especially adapted to roll through a gelatinous medium from planet to planet. Sometimes, because of miscalculations, or because of stresses of various kinds, they enter this earth's atmosphere. They're likely to explode. They have to submerge in the sea. They stay in the sea awhile, revolving with relative leisureliness, until relieved, and then emerge, sometimes close to vessels. Seamen tell of what they see: their reports are interred in scientific morgues. I should say that the general route of these constructions is along latitudes not far from the latitudes of the Persian Gulf. _Journal of the Royal Meteorological Society_, 28-29: That, upon April 4, 1901, about 8:30, in the Persian Gulf, Captain Hoseason, of the steamship _Kilwa_, according to a paper read before the Society by Captain Hoseason, was sailing in a sea in which there was no phosphorescence--"there being no phosphorescence in the water." I suppose I'll have to repeat that: "... there being no phosphorescence in the water." Vast shafts of light--though the captain uses the word "ripples"--suddenly appeared. Shaft followed shaft, upon the surface of the sea. But it was only a faint light, and, in about fifteen minutes, died out: having appeared suddenly, having died out gradually. The shafts revolved at a velocity of about 60 miles an hour. Phosphorescent jellyfish correlate with the Old Dominant: in one of the most heroic compositions of disregards in our experience, it was agreed, in the discussion of Capt. Hoseason's paper, that the phenomenon was probably pulsations of long strings of jellyfish. _Nature_, 21-410: Reprint of a letter from R.E. Harris, Commander of the A.H.N. Co.'s steamship _Shahjehan_, to the Calcutta _Englishman_, Jan. 21, 1880: That upon the 5th of June, 1880, off the coast of Malabar, at 10 P.M., water calm, sky cloudless, he had seen something that was so foreign to anything that he had ever seen before, that he had stopped his ship. He saw what he describes as waves of brilliant light, with spaces between. Upon the water were floating patches of a substance that was not identified. Thinking in terms of the conventional explanation of all phosphorescence at sea, the captain at first suspected this substance. However, he gives his opinion that it did no illuminating but was, with the rest of the sea, illuminated by tremendous shafts of light. Whether it was a thick and oily discharge from the engine of a submerged construction or not, I think that I shall have to accept this substance as a concomitant, because of another note. "As wave succeeded wave, one of the most grand and brilliant, yet solemn, spectacles that one could think of, was here witnessed." _Jour. Roy. Met. Soc._, 32-280: Extract from a letter from Mr. Douglas Carnegie, Blackheath, England. Date some time in 1906-- "This last voyage we witnessed a weird and most extraordinary electric display." In the Gulf of Oman, he saw a bank of apparently quiescent phosphorescence: but, when within twenty yards of it, "shafts of brilliant light came sweeping across the ship's bows at a prodigious speed, which might be put down as anything between 60 and 200 miles an hour." "These light bars were about 20 feet apart and most regular." As to phosphorescence--"I collected a bucketful of water, and examined it under the microscope, but could not detect anything abnormal." That the shafts of light came up from something beneath the surface--"They first struck us on our broadside, and I noticed that an intervening ship had no effect on the light beams: they started away from the lee side of the ship, just as if they had traveled right through it." The Gulf of Oman is at the entrance to the Persian Gulf. _Jour. Roy. Met. Soc._, 33-294: Extract from a letter by Mr. S.C. Patterson, second officer of the P. and O. steamship _Delta_: a spectacle which the _Journal_ continues to call phosphorescent: Malacca Strait, 2 A.M., March 14, 1907: "... shafts which seemed to move round a center--like the spokes of a wheel--and appeared to be about 300 yards long. The phenomenon lasted about half an hour, during which time the ship had traveled six or seven miles. It stopped suddenly." _L'Astronomie_, 1891-312: A correspondent writes that, in October, 1891, in the China Sea, he had seen shafts or lances of light that had had the appearance of rays of a searchlight, and that had moved like such rays. _Nature_, 20-291: Report to the Admiralty by Capt. Evans, the Hydrographer of the British Navy: That Commander J.E. Pringle, of H.M.S. _Vulture_, had reported that, at Lat. 26° 26' N., and Long. 53° 11' E.--in the Persian Gulf--May 15, 1879, he had noticed luminous waves or pulsations in the water, moving at great speed. This time we have a definite datum upon origin somewhere below the surface. It is said that these waves of light passed under the _Vulture_. "On looking toward the east, the appearance was that of a revolving wheel with a center on that bearing, and whose spokes were illuminated, and, looking toward the west, a similar wheel appeared to be revolving, but in the opposite direction." Or finally as to submergence--"These waves of light extended from the surface well under the water." It is Commander Pringle's opinion that the shafts constituted one wheel, and that doubling was an illusion. He judges the shafts to have been about 25 feet broad, and the spaces about 100. Velocity about 84 miles an hour. Duration about 35 minutes. Time 9:40 P.M. Before and after this display the ship had passed through patches of floating substance described as "oily-looking fish spawn." Upon page 428 of this number of _Nature_, E.L. Moss says that, in April, 1875, when upon H.M.S. _Bulldog_, a few miles north of Vera Cruz, he had seen a series of swift lines of light. He had dipped up some of the water, finding in it animalcule, which would, however, not account for phenomena of geometric formation and high velocity. If he means Vera Cruz, Mexico, this is the only instance we have out of oriental waters. _Scientific American_, 106-51: That, in the _Nautical Meteorological Annual_, published by the Danish Meteorological Institute, appears a report upon a "singular phenomenon" that was seen by Capt. Gabe, of the Danish East Asiatic Co.'s steamship _Bintang_. At 3 A.M., June 10, 1909, while sailing through the Straits of Malacca, Captain Gabe saw a vast revolving wheel of light, flat upon the water--"long arms issuing from a center around which the whole system appeared to rotate." So vast was the appearance that only half of it could be seen at a time, the center lying near the horizon. This display lasted about fifteen minutes. Heretofore we have not been clear upon the important point that forward motions of these wheels do not synchronize with a vessel's motions, and freaks of disregard, or, rather, commonplaces of disregard, might attempt to assimilate with lights of a vessel. This time we are told that the vast wheel moved forward, decreasing in brilliancy, and also in speed of rotation, disappearing when the center was right ahead of the vessel--or my own interpretation would be that the source of light was submerging deeper and deeper and slowing down because meeting more and more resistance. The Danish Meteorological Institute reports another instance: That, when Capt. Breyer, of the Dutch steamer _Valentijn_, was in the South China Sea, midnight, Aug. 12, 1910, he saw a rotation of flashes. "It looked like a horizontal wheel, turning rapidly." This time it is said that the appearance was above water. "The phenomenon was observed by the captain, the first and second mates, and the first engineer, and upon all of them it made a somewhat uncomfortable impression." In general, if our expression be not immediately acceptable, we recommend to rival interpreters that they consider the localization--with one exception--of this phenomenon, to the Indian Ocean and adjacent waters, or Persian Gulf on one side and China Sea on the other side. Though we're Intermediatists, the call of attempted Positivism, in the aspect of Completeness, is irresistible. We have expressed that from few aspects would wheels of fire in the air look like wheels of fire, but, if we can get it, we must have observation upon vast luminous wheels, not interpretable as optical illusions, but enormous, substantial things that have smashed down material resistances, and have been seen to plunge into the ocean: _Athenæum_, 1848-833: That at the meeting of the British Association, 1848, Sir W.S. Harris said that he had recorded an account sent to him of a vessel toward which had whirled "two wheels of fire, which the men described as rolling millstones of fire." "When they came near, an awful crash took place: the topmasts were shivered to pieces." It is said that there was a strong sulphurous odor. 22 _Journal of the Royal Meteorological Society_, 1-157: Extract from the log of the bark _Lady of the Lake_, by Capt. F.W. Banner: Communicated by R.H. Scott, F.R.S.: That, upon the 22nd of March, 1870, at Lat. 5° 47' N., Long. 27° 52' W., the sailors of the _Lady of the Lake_ saw a remarkable object, or "cloud," in the sky. They reported to the captain. According to Capt. Banner, it was a cloud of circular form, with an included semi-circle divided into four parts, the central dividing shaft beginning at the center of the circle and extending far outward, and then curving backward. Geometricity and complexity and stability of form: and the small likelihood of a cloud maintaining such diversity of features, to say nothing of appearance of organic form. The thing traveled from a point at about 20 degrees above the horizon to a point about 80 degrees above. Then it settled down to the northeast, having appeared from the south, southeast. Light gray in color, or it was cloud-color. "It was much lower than the other clouds." And this datum stands out: That, whatever it may have been, it traveled against the wind. "It came up obliquely against the wind, and finally settled down right in the wind's eye." For half an hour this form was visible. When it did finally disappear that was not because it disintegrated like a cloud, but because it was lost to sight in the evening darkness. Capt. Banner draws the following diagram: [Illustration] 23 Text-books tell us that the Dhurmsalla meteorites were picked up "soon," or "within half an hour." Given a little time the conventionalists may argue that these stones were hot when they fell, but that their great interior coldness had overcome the molten state of their surfaces. According to the Deputy Commissioner of Dhurmsalla, these stones had been picked up "immediately" by passing coolies. These stones were so cold that they benumbed the fingers. But they had fallen with a great light. It is described as "a flame of fire about two feet in depth and nine feet in length." Acceptably this light was not the light of molten matter. In this chapter we are very intermediatistic--and unsatisfactory. To the intermediatist there is but one answer to all questions: Sometimes and sometimes not. Another form of this intermediatist "solution" of all problems is: Yes and no. Everything that is, also isn't. A positivist attempts to formulate: so does the intermediatist, but with less rigorousness: he accepts but also denies: he may seem to accept in one respect and deny in some other respect, but no real line can be drawn between any two aspects of anything. The intermediatist accepts that which seems to correlate with something that he has accepted as a dominant. The positivist correlates with a belief. In the Dhurmsalla meteorites we have support for our expression that things entering this earth's atmosphere sometimes shine with a light that is not the light of incandescence--or so we account, or offer an expression upon, "thunderstones," or carved stones that have fallen luminously to this earth, in streaks that have looked like strokes of lightning--but we accept, also, that some things that have entered this earth's atmosphere, disintegrate with the intensity of flame and molten matter--but some things, we accept, enter this earth's atmosphere and collapse non-luminously, quite like deep-sea fishes brought to the surface of the ocean. Whatever agreement we have is an indication that somewhere aloft there is a medium denser than this earth's atmosphere. I suppose our stronghold is in that such is not popular belief-- Or the rhythm of all phenomena: Air dense at sea level upon this earth--less and less dense as one ascends--then denser and denser. A good many bothersome questions arise-- Our attitude: Here are the data: Luminous rains sometimes fall (_Nature_, March 9, 1882; _Nature_, 25-437). This is light that is not the light of incandescence, but no one can say that these occasional, or rare, rains come from this earth's externality. We simply note cold light of falling bodies. For luminous rain, snow, and dust, see Hartwig, _Aerial World_, p. 319. As to luminous clouds, we have more nearly definite observations and opinions: they mark transition between the Old Dominant and the New Dominant. We have already noted the transition in Prof. Schwedoffs theory of external origin of some hailstones--and the implications that, to a former generation, seemed so preposterous--"droll" was the word--that there are in inter-planetary regions volumes of water--whether they have fishes and frogs in them or not. Now our acceptance is that clouds sometimes come from external regions, having had origin from super-geographical lakes and oceans that we shall not attempt to chart, just at present--only suggesting to enterprising aviators--and we note that we put it all up to them, and show no inclination to go Columbusing on our own account--that they take bathing suits, or, rather, deep-sea diving-suits along. So then that some clouds come from inter-planetary oceans--of the Super-Sargasso Sea--if we still accept the Super-Sargasso Sea--and shine, upon entering this earth's atmosphere. In _Himmel und Erde_, February, 1889--a phenomenon of transition of thirty years ago--Herr O. Jesse, in his observations upon luminous night-clouds, notes the great height of them, and drolly or sensibly suggests that some of them may have come from regions external to this earth. I suppose he means only from other planets. But it's a very droll and sensible idea either way. In general I am accounting for a great deal of this earth's isolation: that it is relatively isolated by circumstances that are similar to the circumstances that make for relative isolation of the bottom of the ocean--except that there is a clumsiness of analogy now. To call ourselves deep-sea fishes has been convenient, but, in a quasi-existence, there is no convenience that will not sooner or later turn awkward--so, if there be denser regions aloft, these regions should now be regarded as analogues of far-submerged oceanic regions, and things coming to this earth would be like things rising to an attenuated medium--and exploding--sometimes incandescently, sometimes with cold light--sometimes non-luminously, like deep-sea fishes brought to the surface--altogether conditions of inhospitality. I have a suspicion that, in their own depths, deep-sea fishes are not luminous. If they are, Darwinism is mere jesuitism, in attempting to correlate them. Such advertising would so attract attention that all advantages would be more than offset. Darwinism is largely a doctrine of concealment: here we have brazen proclamation--if accepted. Fishes in the Mammoth Cave need no light to see by. We might have an expression that deep-sea fishes turn luminous upon entering a less dense medium--but models in the American Museum of Natural History: specialized organs of luminosity upon these models. Of course we do remember that awfully convincing "dodo," and some of our sophistications we trace to him--at any rate disruption is regarded as a phenomenon of coming from a dense to a less dense medium. An account by M. Acharius, in the _Transactions of the Swedish Academy of Sciences_, 1808-215, translated for the _North American Review_, 3-319: That M. Acharius, having heard of "an extraordinary and probably hitherto unseen phenomenon," reported from near the town of Skeninge, Sweden, investigated: That, upon the 16th of May, 1808, at about 4 P.M., the sun suddenly turned dull brick-red. At the same time there appeared, upon the western horizon, a great number of round bodies, dark brown, and seemingly the size of a hat crown. They passed overhead and disappeared in the eastern horizon. Tremendous procession. It lasted two hours. Occasionally one fell to the ground. When the place of a fall was examined, there was found a film, which soon dried and vanished. Often, when approaching the sun, these bodies seemed to link together, or were then seen to be linked together, in groups not exceeding eight, and, under the sun, they were seen to have tails three or four fathoms long. Away from the sun the tails were invisible. Whatever their substance may have been, it is described as gelatinous--"soapy and jellied." I place this datum here for several reasons. It would have been a good climax to our expression upon hordes of small bodies that, in our acceptance, were not seeds, nor birds, nor ice-crystals: but the tendency would have been to jump to the homogeneous conclusion that all our data in that expression related to this one kind of phenomena, whereas we conceive of infinite heterogeneity of the external: of crusaders and rabbles and emigrants and tourists and dragons and things like gelatinous hat crowns. Or that all things, here, upon this earth, that flock together, are not necessarily sheep, Presbyterians, gangsters, or porpoises. The datum is important to us, here, as indication of disruption in this earth's atmosphere--dangers in entering this earth's atmosphere. I think, myself, that thousands of objects have been seen to fall from aloft, and have exploded luminously, and have been called "ball lightning." "As to what ball lightning is, we have not yet begun to make intelligent guesses." (_Monthly Weather Review_, 34-17.) In general, it seems to me that when we encounter the opposition "ball lightning" we should pay little attention, but confine ourselves to guesses that are at least intelligent, that stand phantom-like in our way. We note here that in some of our acceptances upon intelligence we should more clearly have pointed out that they were upon the intelligent as opposed to the instinctive. In the _Monthly Weather Review_, 33-409, there is an account of "ball lightning" that struck a tree. It made a dent such as a falling object would make. Some other time I shall collect instances of "ball lightning," to express that they are instances of objects that have fallen from the sky, luminously, exploding terrifically. So bewildered is the old orthodoxy by these phenomena that many scientists have either denied "ball lightning" or have considered it very doubtful. I refer to Dr. Sestier's list of one hundred and fifty instances, which he considered authentic. In accord with our disaccord is an instance related in the _Monthly Weather Review_, March, 1887--something that fell luminously from the sky, accompanied by something that was not so affected, or that was dark: That, according to Capt. C.D. Sweet, of the Dutch bark, _J.P.A._, upon March 19, 1887, N. 37° 39', W. 57° 00', he encountered a severe storm. He saw two objects in the air above the ship. One was luminous, and might be explained in several ways, but the other was dark. One or both fell into the sea, with a roar and the casting up of billows. It is our acceptance that these things had entered this earth's atmosphere, having first crashed through a field of ice--"immediately afterward lumps of ice fell." One of the most astonishing of the phenomena of "ball lightning" is a phenomenon of many meteorites: violence of explosion out of all proportion to size and velocity. We accept that the icy meteorites of Dhurmsalla could have fallen with no great velocity, but the sound from them was tremendous. The soft substance that fell at the Cape of Good Hope was carbonaceous, but was unburned, or had fallen with velocity insufficient to ignite it. The tremendous report that it made was heard over an area more than seventy miles in diameter. That some hailstones have been formed in a dense medium, and violently disintegrate in this earth's relatively thin atmosphere: _Nature_, 88-350: Large hailstones noted at the University of Missouri, Nov. 11, 1911: they exploded with sounds like pistol shots. The writer says that he had noticed a similar phenomenon, eighteen years before, at Lexington, Kentucky. Hailstones that seemed to have been formed in a denser medium: when melted under water they gave out bubbles larger than their central air spaces. (_Monthly Weather Review_, 33-445.) Our acceptance is that many objects have fallen from the sky, but that many of them have disintegrated violently. This acceptance will co-ordinate with data still to come, but, also, we make it easy for ourselves in our expressions upon super-constructions, if we're asked why, from thinkable wrecks of them, girders, plates, or parts recognizably of manufactured metal have not fallen from the sky. However, as to composition, we have not this refuge, so it is our expression that there have been reported instances of the fall of manufactured metal from the sky. The meteorite of Rutherford, North Carolina, is of artificial material: mass of pig iron. It is said to be fraudulent. (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 2-34-298.) The object that was said to have fallen at Marblehead, Mass., in 1858, is described in the _Amer. Jour. Sci._, 2-34-135, as "a furnace product, formed in smelting copper ores, or iron ores containing copper." It is said to be fraudulent. According to Ehrenberg, the substance reported by Capt. Callam to have fallen upon his vessel, near Java, "offered complete resemblance to the residue resulting from combustion of a steel wire in a flask of oxygen." (Zurcher, _Meteors_, p. 239.) _Nature_, Nov. 21, 1878, publishes a notice that, according to the _Yuma Sentinel_, a meteorite that "resembles steel" had been found in the Mohave Desert. In _Nature_, Feb. 15, 1894, we read that one of the meteorites brought to the United States by Peary, from Greenland, is of tempered steel. The opinion is that meteoric iron had fallen in water or snow, quickly cooling and hardening. This does not apply to composition. Nov. 5, 1898, _Nature_ publishes a notice of a paper by Prof. Berwerth, of Vienna, upon "the close connection between meteoric iron and steel-works' steel." At the meeting of Nov. 24, 1906, of the Essex Field Club, was exhibited a piece of metal said to have fallen from the sky, Oct. 9, 1906, at Braintree. According to the _Essex Naturalist_, Dr. Fletcher, of the British Museum, had declared this metal to be smelted iron--"so that the mystery of its reported 'fall' remained unexplained." 24 We shall have an outcry of silences. If a single instance of anything be disregarded by a System--our own attitude is that a single instance is a powerless thing. Of course our own method of agreement of many instances is not a real method. In Continuity, all things must have resemblances with all other things. Anything has any quasi-identity you please. Some time ago conscription was assimilated with either autocracy or democracy with equal facility. Note the need for a dominant to correlate to. Scarcely anybody said simply that we must have conscription: but that we must have conscription, which correlates with democracy, which was taken as a base, or something basically desirable. Of course between autocracy and democracy nothing but false demarcation can be drawn. So I can conceive of no subject upon which there should be such poverty as a single instance, if anything one pleases can be whipped into line. However, we shall try to be more nearly real than the Darwinites who advance concealing coloration as Darwinism, and then drag in proclaiming luminosity, too, as Darwinism. I think the Darwinites had better come in with us as to the deep-sea fishes--and be sorry later, I suppose. It will be amazing or negligible to read all the instances now to come of things that have been seen in the sky, and to think that all have been disregarded. My own opinion is that it is not possible, or very easy, to disregard them, now that they have been brought together--but that, if prior to about this time we had attempted such an assemblage, the Old Dominant would have withered our typewriter--as it is the letter "e" has gone back on us, and the "s" is temperamental. "Most extraordinary and singular phenomenon," North Wales, Aug. 26, 1894; a disk from which projected an orange-colored body that looked like "an elongated flatfish," reported by Admiral Ommanney (_Nature_, 50-524); disk from which projected a hook-like form, India, about 1838; diagram of it given; disk about size of the moon, but brighter than the moon; visible about twenty minutes; by G. Pettit, in Prof. Baden-Powell's Catalogue (_Rept. Brit. Assoc._, 1849); very brilliant hook-like form, seen in the sky at Poland, Trumbull Co., Ohio, during the stream of meteors, of 1833; visible more than an hour: large luminous body, almost stationary "for a time"; shaped like a square table; Niagara Falls, Nov. 13, 1833 (_Amer. Jour. Sci._, 1-25-391); something described as a bright white cloud, at night, Nov. 3, 1886, at Hamar, Norway; from it were emitted brilliant rays of light; drifted across the sky; "retained throughout its original form" (_Nature_, Dec. 16, 1886-158); thing with an oval nucleus, and streamers with dark bands and lines very suggestive of structure; New Zealand, May 4, 1888 (_Nature_, 42-402); luminous object, size of full moon, visible an hour and a half, Chili, Nov. 5, 1883 (_Comptes Rendus_, 103-682); bright object near sun, Dec. 21, 1882 (_Knowledge_, 3-13); light that looked like a great flame, far out at sea, off Ryook Phyoo, Dec. 2, 1845 (_London Roy. Soc. Proc._, 5-627); something like a gigantic trumpet, suspended, vertical, oscillating gently, visible five or six minutes, length estimated at 425 feet, at Oaxaca, Mexico, July 6, 1874 (_Sci. Am. Sup._, 6-2365); two luminous bodies, seemingly united, visible five or six minutes, June 3, 1898 (_La Nature_, 1898-1-127); thing with a tail, crossing moon, transit half a minute, Sept. 26, 1870 (London _Times_, Sept. 30, 1870); object four or five times size of moon, moving slowly across sky, Nov. 1, 1885, near Adrianople (_L'Astronomie_, 1886-309); large body, colored red, moving slowly, visible 15 minutes, reported by Coggia, Marseilles, Aug. 1, 1871 (_Chem. News_, 24-193); details of this observation, and similar observation by Guillemin, and other instances by de Fonville (_Comptes Rendus_, 73-297, 755); thing that was large and that was stationary twice in seven minutes, Oxford, Nov. 19, 1847; listed by Lowe (_Rec. Sci._, 1-136); grayish object that looked to be about three and a half feet long, rapidly approaching the earth at Saarbruck, April 1, 1826; sound like thunder; object expanding like a sheet (_Am. Jour. Sci._, 1-26-133; _Quar. Jour. Roy. Inst._, 24-488); report by an astronomer, N.S. Drayton, upon an object duration of which seemed to him extraordinary; duration three-quarters of a minute, Jersey City, July 6, 1882 (_Sci. Amer._, 47-53); object like a comet, but with proper motion of 10 degrees an hour; visible one hour; reported by Purine and Glancy from the Cordoba Observatory, Argentina, March 14, 1916 (_Sci. Amer._, 115-493); something like a signal light, reported by Glaisher, Oct. 4, 1844; bright as Jupiter, "sending out quick flickering waves of light" (_Year Book of Facts_, 1845-278). I think that with the object known as Eddie's "comet" passes away the last of our susceptibility to the common fallacy of personifying. It is one of the most deep-rooted of positivist illusions--that people are persons. We have been guilty too often of spleens and spites and ridicules against astronomers, as if they were persons, or final unities, individuals, completenesses, or selves--instead of indeterminate parts. But, so long as we remain in quasi-existence, we can cast out illusion only with some other illusion, though the other illusion may approximate higher to reality. So we personify no more--but we super-personify. We now take into full acceptance our expression that Development is an Autocracy of Successive Dominants--which are not final--but which approximate higher to individuality or self-ness, than do the human tropisms that irresponsibly correlate to them. Eddie reported a celestial object, from the Observatory at Grahamstown, South Africa. It was in 1890. The New Dominant was only heir presumptive then, or heir apparent but not obvious. The thing that Eddie reported might as well have been reported by a night watchman, who had looked up through an unplaced sewer pipe. It did not correlate. The thing was not admitted to _Monthly Notices_. I think myself that if the Editor had attempted to let it in--earthquake--or a mysterious fire in his publishing house. The Dominants are jealous gods. In _Nature_, presumably a vassal of the new god, though of course also plausibly rendering homage to the old, is reported a comet-like body, of Oct. 27, 1890, observed at Grahamstown, by Eddie. It may have looked comet-like, but it moved 100 degrees while visible, or one hundred degrees in three-quarters of an hour. See _Nature_, 43-89, 90. In _Nature_, 44-519, Prof. Copeland describes a similar appearance that he had seen, Sept. 10, 1891. Dreyer says (_Nature_, 44-541) that he had seen this object at the Armagh Observatory. He likens it to the object that was reported by Eddie. It was seen by Dr. Alexander Graham Bell, Sept. 11, 1891, in Nova Scotia. But the Old Dominant was a jealous god. So there were different observations upon something that was seen in November, 1883. These observations were Philistines in 1883. In the _Amer. Met. Jour._, 1-110, a correspondent reports having seen an object like a comet, with two tails, one up and one down, Nov. 10 or 12, 1883. Very likely this phenomenon should be placed in our expression upon torpedo-shaped bodies that have been seen in the sky--our data upon dirigibles, or super-Zeppelins--but our attempted classifications are far from rigorous--or are mere gropes. In the _Scientific American_, 50-40, a correspondent writes from Humacao, Porto Rico, that, Nov. 21, 1883, he and several other--persons--or persons, as it were--had seen a majestic appearance, like a comet. Visible three successive nights: disappeared then. The Editor says that he can offer no explanation. If accepted, this thing must have been close to the earth. If it had been a comet, it would have been seen widely, and the news would have been telegraphed over the world, says the Editor. Upon page 97 of this volume of the _Scientific American_, a correspondent writes that, at Sulphur Springs, Ohio, he had seen "a wonder in the sky," at about the same date. It was torpedo-shaped, or something with a nucleus, at each end of which was a tail. Again the Editor says that he can offer no explanation: that the object was not a comet. He associates it with the atmospheric effects general in 1883. But it will be our expression that, in England and Holland, a similar object was seen in November, 1882. In the _Scientific American_, 40-294, is published a letter from Henry Harrison, of Jersey City, copied from the _New York Tribune_: that upon the evening of April 13, 1879, Mr. Harrison was searching for Brorsen's comet, when he saw an object that was moving so rapidly that it could not have been a comet. He called a friend to look, and his observation was confirmed. At two o'clock in the morning this object was still visible. In the _Scientific American Supplement_, 7-2885, Mr. Harrison disclaims sensationalism, which he seems to think unworthy, and gives technical details: he says that the object was seen by Mr. J. Spencer Devoe, of Manhattanville. 25 "A formation having the shape of a dirigible." It was reported from Huntington, West Virginia (_Sci. Amer._, 115-241). Luminous object that was seen July 19, 1916, at about 11 P.M. Observed through "rather powerful field glasses," it looked to be about two degrees long and half a degree wide. It gradually dimmed, disappeared, reappeared, and then faded out of sight. Another person--as we say: it would be too inconvenient to hold to our intermediatist recognitions--another person who observed this phenomenon suggested to the writer of the account that the object was a dirigible, but the writer says that faint stars could be seen behind it. This would seem really to oppose our notion of a dirigible visitor to this earth--except for the inconclusiveness of all things in a mode of seeming that is not final--or we suggest that behind some parts of the object, thing, construction, faint stars were seen. We find a slight discussion here. Prof. H.M. Russell thinks that the phenomenon was a detached cloud of aurora borealis. Upon page 369 of this volume of the _Scientific American_, another correlator suggests that it was a light from a blast furnace--disregarding that, if there be blast furnaces in or near Huntington, their reflections would be commonplaces there. We now have several observations upon cylindrical-shaped bodies that have appeared in this earth's atmosphere: cylindrical, but pointed at both ends, or torpedo-shaped. Some of the accounts are not very detailed, but out of the bits of description my own acceptance is that super-geographical routes are traversed by torpedo-shaped super-constructions that have occasionally visited, or that have occasionally been driven into this earth's atmosphere. From data, the acceptance is that upon entering this earth's atmosphere, these vessels have been so racked that had they not sailed away, disintegration would have occurred: that, before leaving this earth, they have, whether in attempted communication or not, or in mere wantonness or not, dropped objects, which did almost immediately violently disintegrate or explode. Upon general principles we think that explosives have not been purposely dropped, but that parts have been racked off, and have fallen, exploding like the things called "ball lightning." Many have been objects of stone or metal with inscriptions upon them, for all we know, at present. In all instances, estimates of dimensions are valueless, but ratios of dimensions are more acceptable. A thing said to have been six feet long may have been six hundred feet long; but shape is not so subject to the illusions of distance. _Nature_, 40-415: That, Aug. 5, 1889, during a violent storm, an object that looked to be about 15 inches long and 5 inches wide, fell, rather slowly, at East Twickenham, England. It exploded. No substance from it was found. _L'Année Scientifique_, 1864-54: That, Oct. 10, 1864, M. Leverrier had sent to the Academy three letters from witnesses of a long luminous body, tapering at both ends, that had been seen in the sky. In _Thunder and Lightning_, p. 87, Flammarion says that on Aug. 20, 1880, during a rather violent storm, M.A. Trécul, of the French Academy, saw a very brilliant yellowish-white body, apparently 35 to 40 centimeters long, and about 25 centimeters wide. Torpedo-shaped. Or a cylindrical body, "with slightly conical ends." It dropped something, and disappeared in the clouds. Whatever it may have been that was dropped, it fell vertically, like a heavy object, and left a luminous train. The scene of this occurrence may have been far from the observer. No sound was heard. For M. Trécul's account, see _Comptes Rendus_, 103-849. _Monthly Weather Review_, 1907-310: That, July 2, 1907, in the town of Burlington, Vermont, a terrific explosion had been heard throughout the city. A ball of light, or a luminous object, had been seen to fall from the sky--or from a torpedo-shaped thing, or construction, in the sky. No one had seen this thing that had exploded fall from a larger body that was in the sky--but if we accept that at the same time there was a larger body in the sky-- My own acceptance is that a dirigible in the sky, or a construction that showed every sign of disrupting, had barely time to drop--whatever it did drop--and to speed away to safety above. The following story is told, in the _Review_, by Bishop John S. Michaud: "I was standing on the corner of Church and College Streets, just in front of the Howard Bank, and facing east, engaged in conversation with Ex-Governor Woodbury and Mr. A.A. Buell, when, without the slightest indication, or warning, we were startled by what sounded like a most unusual and terrific explosion, evidently very nearby. Raising my eyes, and looking eastward along College Street, I observed a torpedo-shaped body, some 300 feet away, stationary in appearance, and suspended in the air, about 50 feet above the tops of the buildings. In size it was about 6 feet long by 8 inches in diameter, the shell, or covering, having a dark appearance, with here and there tongues of fire issuing from spots on the surface, resembling red-hot, unburnished copper. Although stationary when first noticed, this object soon began to move, rather slowly, and disappeared over Dolan Brothers' store, southward. As it moved, the covering seemed rupturing in places, and through these the intensely red flames issued." Bishop Michaud attempts to correlate it with meteorological observations. Because of the nearby view this is perhaps the most remarkable of the new correlates, but the correlate now coming is extraordinary because of the great number of recorded observations upon it. My own acceptance is that, upon Nov. 17, 1882, a vast dirigible crossed England, but by the definiteness-indefiniteness of all things quasi-real, some observations upon it can be correlated with anything one pleases. E.W. Maunder, invited by the Editors of the _Observatory_ to write some reminiscences for the 500th number of their magazine, gives one that he says stands out (_Observatory_, 39-214). It is upon something that he terms "a strange celestial visitor." Maunder was at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, Nov. 17, 1882, at night. There was an aurora, without features of special interest. In the midst of the aurora, a great circular disk of greenish light appeared and moved smoothly across the sky. But the circularity was evidently the effect of foreshortening. The thing passed above the moon, and was, by other observers, described as "cigar-shaped," "like a torpedo," "a spindle," "a shuttle." The idea of foreshortening is not mine: Maunder says this. He says: "Had the incident occurred a third of a century later, beyond doubt everyone would have selected the same simile--it would have been 'just like a Zeppelin.'" The duration was about two minutes. Color said to have been the same as that of the auroral glow in the north. Nevertheless, Maunder says that this thing had no relation to auroral phenomena. "It appeared to be a definite body." Motion too fast for a cloud, but "nothing could be more unlike the rush of a meteor." In the _Philosophical Magazine_, 5-15-318, J. Rand Capron, in a lengthy paper, alludes throughout to this phenomenon as an "auroral beam," but he lists many observations upon its "torpedo-shape," and one observation upon a "dark nucleus" in it--host of most confusing observations--estimates of height between 40 and 200 miles--observations in Holland and Belgium. We are told that according to Capron's spectroscopic observations the phenomenon was nothing but a beam of auroral light. In the _Observatory_, 6-192, is Maunder's contemporaneous account. He gives apparent approximate length and breadth at twenty-seven degrees and three degrees and a half. He gives other observations seeming to indicate structure--"remarkable dark marking down the center." In _Nature_, 27-84, Capron says that because of the moonlight he had been able to do little with the spectroscope. Color white, but aurora rosy (_Nature_, 27-87). Bright stars seen through it, but not at the zenith, where it looked opaque. This is the only assertion of transparency (_Nature_, 27-87). Too slow for a meteor, but too fast for a cloud (_Nature_, 27-86). "Surface had a mottled appearance" (_Nature_, 27-87). "Very definite in form, like a torpedo" (_Nature_, 27-100). "Probably a meteoric object" (Dr. Groneman, _Nature_, 27-296). Technical demonstration by Dr. Groneman, that it was a cloud of meteoric matter (_Nature_, 28-105). See _Nature_, 27-315, 338, 365, 388, 412, 434. "Very little doubt it was an electric phenomenon" (Proctor, _Knowledge_, 2-419). In the London _Times_, Nov. 20, 1882, the Editor says that he had received a great number of letters upon this phenomenon. He publishes two. One correspondent describes it as "well-defined and shaped like a fish... extraordinary and alarming." The other correspondent writes of it as "a most magnificent luminous mass, shaped somewhat like a torpedo." 26 _Notes and Queries_, 5-3-306: About 8 lights that were seen in Wales, over an area of about 8 miles, all keeping their own ground, whether moving together perpendicularly, horizontally, or over a zigzag course. They looked like electric lights--disappearing, reappearing dimly, then shining as bright as ever. "We have seen them three or four at a time afterward, on four or five occasions." London _Times_, Oct. 5, 1877: "From time to time the west coast of Wales seems to have been the scene of mysterious lights.... And now we have a statement from Towyn that within the last few weeks lights of various colors have been seen moving over the estuary of the Dysynni River, and out to sea. They are generally in a northerly direction, but sometimes they hug the shore, and move at high velocity for miles toward Aberdovey, and suddenly disappear." _L'Année Scientifique_, 1877-45: Lights that appeared in the sky, above Vence, France, March 23, 1877; described as balls of fire of dazzling brightness; appeared from a cloud about a degree in diameter; moved relatively slowly. They were visible more than an hour, moving northward. It is said that eight or ten years before similar lights or objects had been seen in the sky, at Vence. London _Times_, Sept. 19, 1848: That, at Inverness, Scotland, two large, bright lights that looked like stars had been seen in the sky: sometimes stationary, but occasionally moving at high velocity. _L'Année Scientifique_, 1888-66: Observed near St. Petersburg, July 30, 1880, in the evening: a large spherical light and two smaller ones, moving along a ravine: visible three minutes; disappearing without noise. _Nature_, 35-173: That, at Yloilo, Sept. 30, 1886, was seen a luminous object the size of the full moon. It "floated" slowly "northward," followed by smaller ones close to it. "The False Lights of Durham." Every now and then in the English newspapers, in the middle of the nineteenth century, there is something about lights that were seen against the sky, but as if not far above land, oftenest upon the coast of Durham. They were mistaken for beacons by sailors. Wreck after wreck occurred. The fishermen were accused of displaying false lights and profiting by wreckage. The fishermen answered that mostly only old vessels, worthless except for insurance, were so wrecked. In 1866 (London _Times_, Jan. 9, 1866) popular excitement became intense. There was an investigation. Before a commission, headed by Admiral Collinson, testimony was taken. One witness described the light that had deceived him as "considerably elevated above ground." No conclusion was reached: the lights were called "the mysterious lights." But whatever the "false lights of Durham" may have been, they were unaffected by the investigation. In 1867, the Tyne Pilotage Board took the matter up. Opinion of the Mayor of Tyne--"a mysterious affair." In the _Report of the British Association_, 1877-152, there is a description of a group of "meteors" that traveled with "remarkable slowness." They were in sight about three minutes. "Remarkable," it seems, is scarcely strong enough: one reads of "remarkable" as applied to a duration of three seconds. These "meteors" had another peculiarity; they left no train. They are described as "seemingly huddled together like a flock of wild geese, and moving with the same velocity and grace of regularity." _Jour. Roy. Astro. Soc. of Canada_, November and December, 1913: That, according to many observations collected by Prof. Chant, of Toronto, there appeared, upon the night of Feb. 9, 1913, a spectacle that was seen in Canada, the United States, and at sea, and in Bermuda. A luminous body was seen. To it there was a long tail. The body grew rapidly larger. "Observers differ as to whether the body was single, or was composed of three or four parts, with a tail to each part." The group, or complex structure, moved with "a peculiar, majestic deliberation." "It disappeared in the distance, and another group emerged from its place of origin. Onward they moved, at the same deliberate pace, in twos or threes or fours." They disappeared. A third group, or a third structure, followed. Some observers compared the spectacle to a fleet of airships: others to battleships attended by cruisers and destroyers. According to one writer: "There were probably 30 or 32 bodies, and the peculiar thing about them was their moving in fours and threes and twos, abreast of one another; and so perfect was the lining up that you would have thought it was an aerial fleet maneuvering after rigid drilling." _Nature_, May 25, 1893: A letter from Capt. Charles J. Norcock, of H.M.S. _Caroline_: That, upon the 24th of February, 1893, at 10 P.M., between Shanghai and Japan, the officer of the watch had reported "some unusual lights." They were between the ship and a mountain. The mountain was about 6,000 feet high. The lights seemed to be globular. They moved sometimes massed, but sometimes strung out in an irregular line. They bore "northward," until lost to sight. Duration two hours. The next night the lights were seen again. They were, for a time, eclipsed by a small island. They bore north at about the same speed and in about the same direction as speed and direction of the _Caroline_. But they were lights that cast a reflection: there was a glare upon the horizon under them. A telescope brought out but few details: that they were reddish, and seemed to emit a faint smoke. This time the duration was seven and a half hours. Then Capt. Norcock says that, in the same general locality, and at about the same time, Capt. Castle, of H.M.S. _Leander_, had seen lights. He had altered his course and had made toward them. The lights had fled from him. At least, they had moved higher in the sky. _Monthly Weather Review_, March, 1904-115: Report from the observations of three members of his crew by Lieut. Frank H. Schofield, U.S.N, of the U.S.S. _Supply_: Feb. 24, 1904. Three luminous objects, of different sizes, the largest having an apparent area of about six suns. When first sighted, they were not very high. They were below clouds of an estimated height of about one mile. They fled, or they evaded, or they turned. They went up into the clouds below which they had, at first, been sighted. Their unison of movement. But they were of different sizes, and of different susceptibilities to all forces of this earth and of the air. _Monthly Weather Review_, August, 1898-358: Two letters from C.N. Crotsenburg, Crow Agency, Montana: That, in the summer of 1896, when this writer was a railroad postal clerk--or one who was experienced in train-phenomena--while his train was going "northward," from Trenton, Mo., he and another clerk saw, in the darkness of a heavy rain, a light that appeared to be round, and of a dull-rose color, and seemed to be about a foot in diameter. It seemed to float within a hundred feet of the earth, but soon rose high, or "midway between horizon and zenith." The wind was quite strong from the east, but the light held a course almost due north. Its speed varied. Sometimes it seemed to outrun the train "considerably." At other times it seemed to fall behind. The mail-clerks watched until the town of Linville, Iowa, was reached. Behind the depot of this town, the light disappeared, and was not seen again. All this time there had been rain, but very little lightning, but Mr. Crotsenburg offers the explanation that it was "ball lightning." The Editor of the _Review_ disagrees. He thinks that the light may have been a reflection from the rain, or fog, or from leaves of trees, glistening with rain, or the train's light--not lights. In the December number of the _Review_ is a letter from Edward M. Boggs--that the light was a reflection, perhaps, from the glare--one light, this time--from the locomotive's fire-box, upon wet telegraph wires--an appearance that might not be striated by the wires, but consolidated into one rotundity--that it had seemed to oscillate with the undulations of the wires, and had seemed to change horizontal distance with the varying angles of reflection, and had seemed to advance or fall behind, when the train had rounded curves. All of which is typical of the best of quasi-reasoning. It includes and assimilates diverse data: but it excludes that which will destroy it: That, acceptably, the telegraph wires were alongside the track beyond, as well as leading to Linville. Mr. Crotsenburg thinks of "ball lightning," which, though a sore bewilderment to most speculation, is usually supposed to be a correlate with the old system of thought: but his awareness of "something else" is expressed in other parts of his letters, when he says that he has something to tell that is "so strange that I should never have mentioned it, even to my friends, had it not been corroborated... so unreal that I hesitated to speak of it, fearing that it was some freak of the imagination." 27 Vast and black. The thing that was poised, like a crow over the moon. Round and smooth. Cannon balls. Things that have fallen from the sky to this earth. Our slippery brains. Things like cannon balls have fallen, in storms, upon this earth. Like cannon balls are things that, in storms, have fallen to this earth. Showers of blood. Showers of blood. Showers of blood. Whatever it may have been, something like red-brick dust, or a red substance in a dried state, fell at Piedmont, Italy, Oct. 27, 1814 (_Electric Magazine_, 68-437). A red powder fell, in Switzerland, winter of 1867 (_Pop. Sci. Rev._, 10-112)-- That something, far from this earth, had bled--super-dragon that had rammed a comet-- Or that there are oceans of blood somewhere in the sky--substance that dries, and falls in a powder--wafts for ages in powdered form--that there is a vast area that will some day be known to aviators as the Desert of Blood. We attempt little of super-topography, at present, but Ocean of Blood, or Desert of Blood--or both--Italy is nearest to it--or to them. I suspect that there were corpuscles in the substance that fell in Switzerland, but all that could be published in 1867 was that in this substance there was a high proportion of "variously shaped organic matter." At Giessen, Germany, in 1821, according to the _Report of the British Association_, 5-2, fell a rain of a peach-red color. In this rain were flakes of a hyacinthine tint. It is said that this substance was organic: we are told that it was pyrrhine. But distinctly enough, we are told of one red rain that it was of corpuscular composition--red snow, rather. It fell, March 12, 1876, near the Crystal Palace, London (_Year Book of Facts_, 1876-89; _Nature_, 13-414). As to the "red snow" of polar and mountainous regions, we have no opposition, because that "snow" has never been seen to fall from the sky: it is a growth of micro-organisms, or of a "protococcus," that spreads over snow that is on the ground. This time nothing is said of "sand from the Sahara." It is said of the red matter that fell in London, March 12, 1876, that it was composed of corpuscles-- Of course: That they looked like "vegetable cells." A note: That nine days before had fallen the red substance--flesh--whatever it may have been--of Bath County, Kentucky. I think that a super-egotist, vast, but not so vast as it had supposed, had refused to move to one side for a comet. We summarize our general super-geographical expressions: Gelatinous regions, sulphurous regions, frigid and tropical regions: a region that has been Source of Life relatively to this earth: regions wherein there is density so great that things from them, entering this earth's thin atmosphere, explode. We have had a datum of explosive hailstones. We now have support to the acceptance that they had been formed in a medium far denser than air of this earth at sea-level. In the _Popular Science News_, 22-38, is an account of ice that had been formed, under great pressure, in the laboratory of the University of Virginia. When released and brought into contact with ordinary air, this ice exploded. And again the flesh-like substance that fell in Kentucky: its flake-like formation. Here is a phenomenon that is familiar to us: it suggests flattening, under pressure. But the extraordinary inference is--pressure not equal on all sides. In the _Annual Record of Science_, 1873-350, it is said that, in 1873, after a heavy thunderstorm in Louisiana, a tremendous number of fish scales were found, for a distance of forty miles, along the banks of the Mississippi River: bushels of them picked up in single places: large scales that were said to be of the gar fish, a fish that weighs from five to fifty pounds. It seems impossible to accept this identification: one thinks of a substance that had been pressed into flakes or scales. And round hailstones with wide thin margins of ice irregularly around them--still, such hailstones seem to me more like things that had been stationary: had been held in a field of thin ice. In the _Illustrated London News_, 34-546, are drawings of hailstones so margined, as if they had been held in a sheet of ice. Some day we shall have an expression which will be, to our advanced primitiveness, a great joy: That devils have visited this earth: foreign devils: human-like beings, with pointed beards: good singers; one shoe ill-fitting--but with sulphurous exhalations, at any rate. I have been impressed with the frequent occurrence of sulphurousness with things that come from the sky. A fall of jagged pieces of ice, Orkney, July 24, 1818 (_Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin._, 9-187). They had a strong sulphurous odor. And the coke--or the substance that looked like coke--that fell at Mortrée, France, April 24, 1887: with it fell a sulphurous substance. The enormous round things that rose from the ocean, near the _Victoria_. Whether we still accept that they were super-constructions that had come from a denser atmosphere and, in danger of disruption, had plunged into the ocean for relief, then rising and continuing on their way to Jupiter or Uranus--it was reported that they spread a "stench of sulphur." At any rate, this datum of proximity is against the conventional explanation that these things did not rise from the ocean, but rose far away above the horizon, with illusion of nearness. And the things that were seen in the sky July, 1898: I have another note. In _Nature_, 58-224, a correspondent writes that, upon July 1, 1898, at Sedberg, he had seen in the sky--a red object--or, in his own wording, something that looked like the red part of a rainbow, about 10 degrees long. But the sky was dark at the time. The sun had set. A heavy rain was falling. Throughout this book, the datum that we are most impressed with: Successive falls. Or that, if upon one small area, things fall from the sky, and then, later, fall again upon the same small area, they are not products of a whirlwind, which though sometimes axially stationary, discharges tangentially-- So the frogs that fell at Wigan. I have looked that matter up again. Later more frogs fell. As to our data of gelatinous substance said to have fallen to this earth with meteorites, it is our expression that meteorites, tearing through the shaky, protoplasmic seas of Genesistrine--against which we warn aviators, or they may find themselves suffocating in a reservoir of life, or stuck like currants in a blanc mange--that meteorites detach gelatinous, or protoplasmic, lumps that fall with them. Now the element of positiveness in our composition yearns for the appearance of completeness. Super-geographical lakes with fishes in them. Meteorites that plunge through these lakes, on their way to this earth. The positiveness in our make-up must have expression in at least one record of a meteorite that has brought down a lot of fishes with it-- _Nature_, 3-512: That, near the bank of a river, in Peru, Feb. 4, 1871, a meteorite fell. "On the spot, it is reported, several dead fishes were found, of different species." The attempt to correlate is--that the fishes "are supposed to have been lifted out of the river and dashed against the stones." Whether this be imaginable or not depends upon each one's own hypnoses. _Nature_, 4-169: That the fishes had fallen among the fragments of the meteorite. _Popular Science Review_, 4-126: That one day, Mr. Le Gould, an Australian scientist, was traveling in Queensland. He saw a tree that had been broken off close to the ground. Where the tree had been broken was a great bruise. Near by was an object that "resembled a ten-inch shot." A good many pages back there was an instance of over-shadowing, I think. The little carved stone that fell at Tarbes is my own choice as the most impressive of our new correlates. It was coated with ice, remember. Suppose we should sift and sift and discard half the data in this book--suppose only that one datum should survive. To call attention to the stone of Tarbes would, in my opinion, be doing well enough, for whatever the spirit of this book is trying to do. Nevertheless, it seems to me that a datum that preceded it was slightingly treated. The disk of quartz, said to have fallen from the sky, after a meteoric explosion: Said to have fallen at the plantation Bleijendal, Dutch Guiana: sent to the Museum of Leyden by M. van Sypesteyn, adjutant to the Governor of Dutch Guiana (_Notes and Queries_, 2-8-92). And the fragments that fall from super-geographic ice fields: flat pieces of ice with icicles on them. I think that we did not emphasize enough that, if these structures were not icicles, but crystalline protuberances, such crystalline formations indicate long suspension quite as notably as would icicles. In the _Popular Science News_, 24-34, it is said that in 1869, near Tiflis, fell large hailstones with long protuberances. "The most remarkable point in connection with the hailstones is the fact that, judging from our present knowledge, a very long time must have been occupied in their formation." According to the _Geological Magazine_, 7-27, this fall occurred May 27, 1869. The writer in the _Geological Magazine_ says that of all theories that he had ever heard of, not one could give him light as to this occurrence--"these growing crystalline forms must have been suspended a long time"-- Again and again this phenomenon: Fourteen days later, at about the same place, more of these hailstones fell. Rivers of blood that vein albuminous seas, or an egg-like composition in the incubation of which this earth is a local center of development--that there are super-arteries of blood in Genesistrine: that sunsets are consciousness of them: that they flush the skies with northern lights sometimes: super-embryonic reservoirs from which life-forms emanate-- Or that our whole solar system is a living thing: that showers of blood upon this earth are its internal hemorrhages-- Or vast living things in the sky, as there are vast living things in the oceans-- Or some one especial thing: an especial time: an especial place. A thing the size of the Brooklyn Bridge. It's alive in outer space--something the size of Central Park kills it-- It drips. We think of the ice fields above this earth: which do not, themselves, fall to this earth, but from which water does fall-- _Popular Science News_, 35-104: That, according to Prof. Luigi Palazzo, head of the Italian Meteorological Bureau, upon May 15, 1890, at Messignadi, Calabria, something the color of fresh blood fell from the sky. This substance was examined in the public-health laboratories of Rome. It was found to be blood. "The most probable explanation of this terrifying phenomenon is that migratory birds (quails or swallows) were caught and torn in a violent wind." So the substance was identified as birds' blood-- What matters it what the microscopists of Rome said--or had to say--and what matters it that we point out that there is no assertion that there was a violent wind at the time--and that such a substance would be almost infinitely dispersed in a violent wind--that no bird was said to have fallen from the sky--or said to have been seen in the sky--that not a feather of a bird is said to have been seen-- This one datum: The fall of blood from the sky-- But later, in the same place, blood again fell from the sky. 28 _Notes and Queries_, 7-8-508: A correspondent who had been to Devonshire writes for information as to a story that he had heard there: of an occurrence of about thirty-five years before the date of writing: Of snow upon the ground--of all South Devonshire waking up one morning to find such tracks in the snow as had never before been heard of--"clawed footmarks" of "an unclassifiable form"--alternating at huge but regular intervals with what seemed to be the impression of the point of a stick--but the scattering of the prints--amazing expanse of territory covered--obstacles, such as hedges, walls, houses, seemingly surmounted-- Intense excitement--that the track had been followed by huntsmen and hounds, until they had come to a forest--from which the hounds had retreated, baying and terrified, so that no one had dared to enter the forest. _Notes and Queries_, 7-9-18: Whole occurrence well-remembered by a correspondent: a badger had left marks in the snow: this was determined, and the excitement had "dropped to a dead calm in a single day." _Notes and Queries_, 7-9-70: That for years a correspondent had had a tracing of the prints, which his mother had taken from those in the snow in her garden, in Exmouth: that they were hoof-like marks--but had been made by a biped. _Notes and Queries_, 7-9-253: Well remembered by another correspondent, who writes of the excitement and consternation of "some classes." He says that a kangaroo had escaped from a menagerie--"the footprints being so peculiar and far apart gave rise to a scare that the devil was loose." We have had a story, and now we shall tell it over from contemporaneous sources. We have had the later accounts first very largely for an impression of the correlating effect that time brings about, by addition, disregard and distortion. For instance, the "dead calm in a single day." If I had found that the excitement did die out rather soon, I'd incline to accept that nothing extraordinary had occurred. I found that the excitement had continued for weeks. I recognize this as a well-adapted thing to say, to divert attention from a discorrelate. All phenomena are "explained" in the terms of the Dominant of their era. This is why we give up trying really to explain, and content ourselves with expressing. Devils that might print marks in snow are correlates to the third Dominant back from this era. So it was an adjustment by nineteenth-century correlates, or human tropisms, to say that the marks in the snow were clawed. Hoof-like marks are not only horsey but devilish. It had to be said in the nineteenth century that those prints showed claw-marks. We shall see that this was stated by Prof. Owen, one of the greatest biologists of his day--except that Darwin didn't think so. But I shall give reference to two representations of them that can be seen in the New York Public Library. In neither representation is there the faintest suggestion of a claw-mark. There never has been a Prof. Owen who has explained: he has correlated. Another adaptation, in the later accounts, is that of leading this discorrelate to the Old Dominant into the familiar scenery of a fairy story, and discredit it by assimilation to the conventionally fictitious--so the idea of the baying, terrified hounds, and forest like enchanted forests, which no one dared to enter. Hunting parties were organized, but the baying, terrified hounds do not appear in contemporaneous accounts. The story of the kangaroo looks like adaptation to needs for an animal that could spring far, because marks were found in the snow on roofs of houses. But so astonishing is the extent of snow that was marked that after a while another kangaroo was added. But the marks were in single lines. My own acceptance is that not less than a thousand one-legged kangaroos, each shod with a very small horseshoe, could have marked that snow of Devonshire. London _Times_, Feb 16, 1855: "Considerable sensation has been caused in the towns of Topsham, Lymphstone, Exmouth, Teignmouth, and Dawlish, in Devonshire, in consequence of the discovery of a vast number of foot tracks of a most strange and mysterious description." The story is of an incredible multiplicity of marks discovered in the morning of Feb. 8, 1855, in the snow, by the inhabitants of many towns and regions between towns. This great area must of course be disregarded by Prof. Owen and the other correlators. The tracks were in all kinds of unaccountable places: in gardens enclosed by high walls, and up on the tops of houses, as well as in the open fields. There was in Lymphstone scarcely one unmarked garden. We've had heroic disregards but I think that here disregard was titanic. And, because they occurred in single lines, the marks are said to have been "more like those of a biped than of a quadruped"--as if a biped would place one foot precisely ahead of another--unless it hopped--but then we have to think of a thousand, or of thousands. It is said that the marks were "generally 8 inches in advance of each other." "The impression of the foot closely resembles that of a donkey's shoe, and measured from an inch and a half, in some instances, to two and a half inches across." Or the impressions were cones in incomplete, or crescentic basins. The diameters equaled diameters of very young colts' hoofs: too small to be compared with marks of donkey's hoofs. "On Sunday last the Rev. Mr. Musgrave alluded to the subject in his sermon and suggested the possibility of the footprints being those of a kangaroo, but this could scarcely have been the case, as they were found on both sides of the Este. At present it remains a mystery, and many superstitious people in the above-named towns are actually afraid to go outside their doors after night." The Este is a body of water two miles wide. London _Times_, March 6, 1855: "The interest in this matter has scarcely yet subsided, many inquiries still being made into the origin of the footprints, which caused so much consternation upon the morning of the 8th ult. In addition to the circumstances mentioned in the _Times_ a little while ago, it may be stated that at Dawlish a number of persons sallied out, armed with guns and other weapons, for the purpose, if possible, of discovering and destroying the animal which was supposed to have been so busy in multiplying its footprints. As might have been expected, the party returned as they went. Various speculations have been made as to the cause of the footprints. Some have asserted that they are those of a kangaroo, while others affirm that they are the impressions of claws of large birds driven ashore by stress of weather. On more than one occasion reports have been circulated that an animal from a menagerie had been caught, but the matter at present is as much involved in mystery as ever it was." In the _Illustrated London News_, the occurrence is given a great deal of space. In the issue of Feb. 24, 1855, a sketch is given of the prints. I call them cones in incomplete basins. Except that they're a little longish, they look like prints of hoofs of horses--or, rather, of colts. But they're in a single line. It is said that the marks from which the sketch was made were 8 inches apart, and that this spacing was regular and invariable "in every parish." Also other towns besides those named in the _Times_ are mentioned. The writer, who had spent a winter in Canada, and was familiar with tracks in snow, says that he had never seen "a more clearly defined track." Also he brings out the point that was so persistently disregarded by Prof. Owen and the other correlators--that "no known animal walks in a line of single footsteps, not even man." With these wider inclusions, this writer concludes with us that the marks were not footprints. It may be that his following observation hits upon the crux of the whole occurrence: That whatever it may have been that had made the marks, it had removed, rather than pressed, the snow. According to his observations the snow looked "as if branded with a hot iron." _Illustrated London News_, March 3, 1855-214: Prof. Owen, to whom a friend had sent drawings of the prints, writes that there were claw-marks. He says that the "track" was made by "a" badger. Six other witnesses sent letters to this number of the _News_. One mentioned, but not published, is a notion of a strayed swan. Always this homogeneous-seeing--"a" badger--"a" swan--"a" track. I should have listed the other towns as well as those mentioned in the _Times_. A letter from Mr. Musgrave is published. He, too, sends a sketch of the prints. It, too, shows a single line. There are four prints, of which the third is a little out of line. There is no sign of a claw-mark. The prints look like prints of longish hoofs of a very young colt, but they are not so definitely outlined as in the sketch of February 24th, as if drawn after disturbance by wind, or after thawing had set in. Measurements at places a mile and a half apart, gave the same inter-spacing--"exactly eight inches and a half apart." We now have a little study in the psychology and genesis of an attempted correlation. Mr. Musgrave says: "I found a very apt opportunity to mention the name 'kangaroo' in allusion to the report then current." He says that he had no faith in the kangaroo-story himself, but was glad "that a kangaroo was in the wind," because it opposed "a dangerous, degrading, and false impression that it was the devil." "Mine was a word in season and did good." Whether it's Jesuitical or not, and no matter what it is or isn't, that is our own acceptance: that, though we've often been carried away from this attitude controversially, that is our acceptance as to every correlate of the past that has been considered in this book--relatively to the Dominant of its era. Another correspondent writes that, though the prints in all cases resembled hoof marks, there were indistinct traces of claws--that "an" otter had made the marks. After that many other witnesses wrote to the _News_. The correspondence was so great that, in the issue of March 10th, only a selection could be given. There's "a" jumping-rat solution and "a" hopping-toad inspiration, and then someone came out strong with an idea of "a" hare that had galloped with pairs of feet held close together, so as to make impressions in a single line. London _Times_, March 14, 1840: "Among the high mountains of that elevated district where Glenorchy, Glenlyon and Glenochay are contiguous, there have been met with several times, during this and also the former winter, upon the snow, the tracks of an animal seemingly unknown at present in Scotland. The print, in every respect, is an exact resemblance to that of a foal of considerable size, with this small difference, perhaps, that the sole seems a little longer, or not so round; but as no one has had the good fortune as yet to have obtained a glimpse of this creature, nothing more can be said of its shape or dimensions; only it has been remarked, from the depth to which the feet sank in the snow, that it must be a beast of considerable size. It has been observed also that its walk is not like that of the generality of quadrupeds, but that it is more like the bounding or leaping of a horse when scared or pursued. It is not in one locality that its tracks have been met with, but through a range of at least twelve miles." In the _Illustrated London News_, March 17, 1855, a correspondent from Heidelberg writes, "upon the authority of a Polish Doctor of Medicine," that on the Piashowa-gora (Sand Hill) a small elevation on the border of Galicia, but in Russian Poland, such marks are to be seen in the snow every year, and sometimes in the sand of this hill, and "are attributed by the inhabitants to supernatural influences." 
36457	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive.) A TREATISE ON METEOROLOGICAL INSTRUMENTS. LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAMS AND STRAHAN, 7 LAWRENCE LANE, CHEAPSIDE, E.C. A TREATISE ON METEOROLOGICAL INSTRUMENTS: EXPLANATORY OF THEIR SCIENTIFIC PRINCIPLES, METHOD OF CONSTRUCTION, AND PRACTICAL UTILITY. BY NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA, METEOROLOGICAL INSTRUMENT MAKERS TO THE QUEEN, THE ROYAL OBSERVATORY, GREENWICH, THE BRITISH METEOROLOGICAL SOCIETY, THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN GOVERNMENTS, ETC. ETC. ETC. LONDON: PUBLISHED AND SOLD AT NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA'S ESTABLISHMENTS: 1 HATTON GARDEN, E.C., 59 CORNHILL, E.C., 122 REGENT STREET W., AND 153 FLEET STREET, E.C. 1864. _Price Five Shillings._ PREFACE. The national utilisation of Meteorology in forewarning of storms, and the increasing employment of instruments as weather indicators, render a knowledge of their construction, principles, and practical uses necessary to every well-informed person. Impressed with the idea that we shall be supplying an existing want, and aiding materially the cause of Meteorological Science, in giving a plain description of the various instruments now in use, we have endeavoured, in the present volume, to condense such information as is generally required regarding the instruments used in Meteorology; the description of many of which could only be found in elaborate scientific works, and then only briefly touched upon. Every Meteorological Instrument now in use being fully described, with adequate directions for using, the uninitiated will be enabled to select those which seem to them best adapted to their requirements. With accounts of old or obsolete instruments we have avoided troubling the reader; on the other hand, we were unwilling to neglect those which, though of no great practical importance, are still deserving of notice from their being either novel or ingenious, or which, without being strictly scientific, are in great demand as simple weather-glasses and articles of trade. We trust, therefore, that the work (however imperfect), bearing in mind the importance of the subject, will be acceptable to general readers, as well as to those for whose requirements it has been prepared. The rapid progress made in the introduction of new apparatus of acknowledged superiority has rendered the publication of some description absolutely necessary. The Report of the Jurors for Class XIII. of the International Exhibition, 1862, on Meteorological Instruments, fully bears out our assertion, as shown by the following extract:-- "The progress in the English department has been very great;--in barometers, thermometers, anemometers, and in every class of instruments. At the close of the Exhibition of 1851, there seemed to have arisen a general anxiety among the majority of makers to pay every attention to all the essentials necessary for philosophical instruments, not only in their old forms, but also with the view of obtaining other and better forms. This desire has never ceased; and no better idea can be given of the continued activity in these respects, than the number of patents taken out for improvements in meteorological instruments in the interval between the recent and preceding exhibitions, which amount to no less than forty-two." * * * "In addition to numerous improvements patented by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra, there is another of great importance, which they did not patent, viz. enamelling the tubes of thermometers, enabling the makers to use finer threads of mercury in the construction of all thermometers; for the contrast between the opaque mercury and the enamel back of the tubes is so great, that the finest bore or thread of mercury, which at one time could not be seen without the greatest difficulty, is now seen with facility; and throughout the British and Foreign departments, the makers have availed themselves of this invention, the tubes of all being made with enamelled backs. It is to be hoped that the recent exhibition will give a fresh stimulus to the desire of improvement, and that the same rate of progress will be continued." To fulfil the desire of the International Jury in the latter portion of the above extract will be the constant study of NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA. _1st January, 1864._ TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. INSTRUMENTS FOR ASCERTAINING THE ATMOSPHERIC PRESSURE. SECTION 1. Principle of the Barometer. 2. Construction of Barometers. 3. Fortin's Barometer Cistern. 4. STANDARD BAROMETER. 5. Correction due to Capillarity. 6. " " Temperature. 7. " " Height. 8. The Barometer Vernier. 9. SELF-COMPENSATING STANDARD BAROMETER. 10. BAROMETER WITH ELECTRICAL ADJUSTMENT. 11. PEDIMENT BAROMETERS. 12. The Words on the Scale. 13. Correction due to Capacity of Cistern. 14. PUBLIC BAROMETERS. 15. FISHERY OR SEA-COAST BAROMETERS. 16. Admiral FitzRoy's Words for the Scale. 17. Instructions for Sea-coast Barometer. 18. French Sea-coast Barometer. 19. COMMON MARINE BAROMETER. 20. THE KEW MARINE BAROMETER. 21. Method of verifying Barometers. 22. FITZROY'S MARINE BAROMETER. 23. Words for its Scale. 24. Trials of this Barometer under Gun-fire. 25. NEGRETTI AND ZAMBRA'S FARMER'S BAROMETER AND DOMESTIC WEATHER-GLASS. 26. Rules for Foretelling the Weather. 27. Causes which may bring about a Fall or a Rise in the Barometer. 28. Use of the Barometer in the Management of Mines. 29. Use of the Barometer in estimating the Height of Tides. CHAPTER II. SYPHON TUBE BAROMETERS. 30. Principle of. 31. DIAL, OR WHEEL, BAROMETERS. 32. STANDARD SYPHON BAROMETER. CHAPTER III. BAROGRAPHS, OR SELF-REGISTERING BAROMETERS. SECTION 33. MILNE'S SELF-REGISTERING BAROMETER. 34. MODIFICATION OF MILNE'S BAROMETER. 35. KING'S SELF-REGISTERING BAROMETER. 36. SYPHON, WITH PHOTOGRAPHIC REGISTRATION. CHAPTER IV. MOUNTAIN BAROMETERS. 37. GAY LUSSAC'S MOUNTAIN BAROMETER. 38. FORTIN'S MOUNTAIN BAROMETER. 39. NEWMAN'S MOUNTAIN BAROMETER. 40. NEGRETTI AND ZAMBRA'S PATENT MOUNTAIN AND OTHER BAROMETERS. 41. Short Tube Barometer. 42. Method of Calculating Heights by the Barometer; Tables and Examples. CHAPTER V. SECONDARY BAROMETERS. 43. Desirability of Magnifying the Barometer Range. 44. HOWSON'S LONG-RANGE BAROMETER. 45. MCNEIL'S LONG-RANGE BAROMETER. 46. The Water-glass Barometer. 47. SYMPIESOMETERS. 48. ANEROIDS. 49. SMALL SIZE ANEROIDS. 50. WATCH ANEROID. 51. Measurement of Heights by the Aneroid; Example. 52. METALLIC BAROMETER. CHAPTER VI. INSTRUMENTS FOR ASCERTAINING TEMPERATURE. 53. Temperature. 54. Thermometric Substances. 55. Description of the Thermometer. 56. STANDARD THERMOMETER. 57. Method of ascertaining the exact Boiling Temperature; Tables, &c. 58. Displacement of the Freezing Point. 59. The Scale. 60. The method of testing Thermometers. 61. Porcelain Scale-Plates. 62. Enamelled Tubes. 63. THERMOMETERS OF EXTREME SENSITIVENESS. 64. VARIETIES OF THERMOMETERS. 65. SUPERHEATED STEAM THERMOMETER. 66. THERMOMETER FOR SUGAR BOILING. 67. EARTH THERMOMETER. 68. MARINE THERMOMETER. CHAPTER VII. SELF-REGISTERING THERMOMETERS. 69. Importance of. 70. RUTHERFORD'S MAXIMUM THERMOMETER. 71. PHILLIPS'S DITTO DITTO. 72. NEGRETTI AND ZAMBRA'S PATENT MAXIMUM THERMOMETER. 73. RUTHERFORD'S ALCOHOL MINIMUM THERMOMETER. 74. HORTICULTURAL MINIMUM THERMOMETER. 75. BAUDIN'S ALCOHOL MINIMUM THERMOMETER. 76. Mercurial Minima Thermometers desirable. 77. NEGRETTI AND ZAMBRA'S PATENT MERCURIAL MINIMUM THERMOMETER. 78. NEGRETTI AND ZAMBRA'S SECOND PATENT MERCURIAL MINIMUM THERMOMETER. 79. CASELLA'S PATENT MERCURIAL MINIMUM THERMOMETER. 80. Day and Night Thermometer. 81. SIXE'S SELF-REGISTERING THERMOMETER. CHAPTER VIII. RADIATION THERMOMETERS. 82. Solar and Terrestrial Radiation considered. 83. SOLAR RADIATION THERMOMETER. 84. VACUUM SOLAR RADIATION THERMOMETER. 85. TERRESTRIAL RADIATION THERMOMETER. 86. ÆTHRIOSCOPE. 87. PYRHELIOMETER. 88. ACTINOMETER. CHAPTER IX. DEEP-SEA THERMOMETERS. 89. ON SIXE'S PRINCIPLE. 90. JOHNSON'S METALLIC THERMOMETER. CHAPTER X. BOILING-POINT THERMOMETERS. 91. Ebullition. 92. Relation between Boiling-Point and Elevation. 93. HYPSOMETRIC APPARATUS. 94. Precautions to ensure Correct Graduation. 95. Method of Calculating Heights from Observations with the Mountain Thermometer; Example. 96. THERMOMETERS FOR ENGINEERS. CHAPTER XI. INSTRUMENTS FOR ASCERTAINING THE HUMIDITY OF THE AIR. 97. Hygrometric Substances. 98. SAUSSURE'S HYGROMETER. 99. Dew-Point. 100. DROSOMETER. 101. Humidity. 102. LESLIE'S HYGROMETER. 103. DANIEL'S HYGROMETER. 104. REGNAULT'S CONDENSER HYGROMETER. 105. Temperature of Evaporation. 106. MASON'S HYGROMETER. 107. SELF-REGISTERING HYGROMETER. 108. Causes of Dew. 109. Plan of Exposing Thermometers. CHAPTER XII. INSTRUMENTS USED FOR MEASURING THE RAINFALL. 110. HOWARD'S RAIN-GAUGE. 111. GLAISHER'S RAIN-GAUGE. 112. RAIN-GAUGE WITH FLOAT. 113. RAIN-GAUGE WITH SIDE TUBE. 114. FITZROY'S RAIN-GAUGE. 115. SELF-REGISTERING RAIN-GAUGE. 116. The principle of Measurement. 117. Position for Rain-gauge, &c. 118. Cause of Rain. 119. Laws of Rainfall. 120. Utility of Statistics of Rainfall. 121. NEW FORM OF RAIN-GAUGE. CHAPTER XIII. APPARATUS EMPLOYED FOR REGISTERING THE DIRECTION, PRESSURE, AND VELOCITY OF THE WIND. 122. THE VANE. 123. LIND'S WIND-GAUGE. 124. HARRIS'S WIND-GAUGE. 125. ROBINSON'S ANEMOMETER. 126. WHEWELL'S ANEMOMETER. 127. OSLER'S ANEMOMETER AND PLUVIOMETER. 128. BECKLEY'S ANEMOMETER. 129. SELF-REGISTERING WIND-GAUGE. 130. Anemometric Observations. CHAPTER XIV. INSTRUMENTS FOR INVESTIGATING ATMOSPHERIC ELECTRICITY. 131. ATMOSPHERIC ELECTROSCOPE. 132. VOLTA'S ELECTROMETER. 133. PELTIER'S ELECTROMETER. 134. BOHNENBERGER'S ELECTROSCOPE. 135. THOMSON'S ELECTROMETER. 136. Fundamental Facts. 137. Lightning Conductors. 138. Precautions against Lightning. CHAPTER XV. OZONE AND ITS INDICATORS. 139. Nature of Ozone. 140. SCHONBEIN'S OZONOMETER. 141. MOFFAT'S OZONOMETER. 142. CLARK'S OZONE CAGE. 143. Distribution and Effects of Ozone. 144. LANCASTER'S REGISTERING OZONOMETER. CHAPTER XVI. MISCELLANEOUS INSTRUMENTS. 145. CHEMICAL WEATHER GLASS. 146. LESLIE'S DIFFERENTIAL THERMOMETER. 147. ROMFORD'S DIFFERENTIAL THERMOMETER. 148. GLAISHER'S THERMOMETER STAND. 149. THERMOMETER SCREEN, FOR USE AT SEA. 150. ANEMOSCOPE. 151. EVAPORATING DISH, OR GAUGE. 152. ADMIDOMETER. 153. CLOUD REFLECTOR. 154. SUNSHINE RECORDER. 155. SET OF PORTABLE INSTRUMENTS. 156. IMPLEMENTS. 157. HYDROMETER. 158. NEWMAN'S SELF-REGISTERING TIDE-GAUGE. TABLES. PAGE Table of Corrections, for Capillary Depression of the Mercury in Boiled and in Unboiled Barometer-Tubes 6 Tables for Deducing Heights by means of the Barometer:-- No. 1. Approximate Height due to Barometric Pressure 42 No. 2. Correction for Mean Temperature of Air 44 No. 3. Correction due to Latitude 44 No. 4. Correction due to Approximate Elevation 45 Tables for Determining the Temperature of the Vapour of Boiling Water at any Place:-- No. 5. Factor due to Latitude 62 No. 6. Temperature and Tension 62 Table of Temperature of the Soil 69 Table of Difference of Elevation corresponding to a fall of 1° in the Boiling-point of Water 98 Table showing Proportion of Salt for various Boiling Temperatures of Sea-Water 100 Table for finding the Degree of Humidity from Observations with Mason's Hygrometer 108 Table showing Amount and Duration of Rain at London, in 1862 112 Table of Average British Rainfall in Westerly, Central, and Easterly districts 114 Table showing Force of Wind, for use with Lind's Wind-Gauge 118 Tables for Correcting Observations made with-- Brass Hydrometers 142 Glass Hydrometers 143 ADDENDA. PAGE 1. Rule for converting Millimetres into Inches, et vice versa 146 2. Old French Lineal Measure, with English Equivalents 146 3. Rule for finding Diameter of Bore of Barometer Tube 146 4. Wind Scales 147 5. Letters to denote the State of the Weather 147 6. Table of Expansion of Bodies 148 7. Table of Specific Gravity of Bodies 148 8. Important Temperatures 148 9. Table of Meteorological Elements, forming Exponents of the Climate of London 149 10. List of Works on Meteorology 151 METEOROLOGICAL INSTRUMENTS. In the pursuits and investigations of the science of Meteorology, which is essentially a science of observation and experiment, instruments are required for ascertaining, 1. the pressure of the atmosphere at any time or place; 2. the temperature of the air; 3. the absorption and radiation of the sun's heat by the earth's surface; 4. the humidity of the air; 5. the amount and duration of rainfall; 6. the direction, the horizontal pressure, and the velocity of winds; 7. the electric condition of the atmosphere, and the prevalence and activity of ozone. CHAPTER I. INSTRUMENTS FOR ASCERTAINING THE ATMOSPHERIC PRESSURE. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] =1. Principle of the Barometer.=--The first instrument which gave the exact measure of the pressure of the atmosphere was invented by Torricelli, in 1643. It is constructed as follows:--A glass tube, CD (fig. 1), about 34 inches long, and from two to four-tenths of an inch in diameter of bore, having one end closed, is filled with mercury. In a cup, B, a quantity of mercury is also poured. Then, placing a finger securely over the open end, C, invert the tube vertically over the cup, and remove the finger when the end of the tube dips into the mercury. The mercury in the tube then partly falls out, but a column, AB, about 30 inches in height, remains supported. This column is a weight of mercury, the pressure of which upon the surface of that in the cup is precisely equivalent to the corresponding pressure of the atmosphere which would be exerted in its place if the tube were removed. As the atmospheric pressure varies, the length of this mercurial column also changes. It is by no means constant in its height; in fact, it is very seldom stationary, but is constantly rising or falling through a certain extent of the tube, at the level of the sea, near which the above experiment is supposed to be performed. It is, therefore, an instrument by which the fluctuations taking place in the pressure of the atmosphere, arising from changes in its weight and elasticity, can be shown and measured. It has obtained the name _Barometer_, or measurer of heaviness,--a word certainly not happily expressive of the utility of the invention. If the bore of the barometer tube be uniform throughout its length, and have its sectional area equal to a square inch, it is evident that the length of the column, which is supported by the pressure of the air, expresses the number of cubic inches of mercury which compose it. The weight of this mercury, therefore, represents the statical pressure of the atmosphere upon a square inch of surface. In England the annual mean height of the barometric column, reduced to the sea-level and to the temperature of 32° Fahrenheit, is about 29·95 inches. A cubic inch of mercury at this temperature has been ascertained to weigh 0·48967 lbs. avoirdupois. Hence, 29·95 × 0·48967= 14·67 lbs., is the mean value of the pressure of the atmosphere on each square inch of surface, near the sea-level, about the latitude of 50 degrees. Nearer the equator this mean pressure is somewhat greater; nearer the poles, somewhat less. For common practical calculations it is assumed to be 15 lbs. on the square inch. When it became apparent that the movements of the barometric column furnished indications of the probable coming changes in the weather, an attempt was made to deduce from recorded observations the barometric height corresponding to the most notable characteristics of weather. It was found that for fine dry weather the mercury in the barometer at the sea-level generally stood above 30 inches; changeable weather happened when it ranged from 30 to 29 inches, and when rainy or stormy weather occurred it was even lower. Hence, it became the practice to place upon barometer scales words indicatory of the weather likely to accompany, or follow, the movements of the mercury; whence the instruments bearing them obtained the name "Weather Glasses." =2. Construction of Barometers.=--In order that the instrument may be portable, it must be made a fixture and mounted on a support; and, further, to render it scientifically or even practically useful, many precautions are required in its construction. The following remarks apply to the construction of all barometers:--Mercury is universally employed, because it is the heaviest of fluids, and therefore measures the atmospheric pressure by the shortest column. Water barometers have been constructed, and they require to be at least 34 feet long. Oil, or other fluids, might be used. Mercury, however, has other advantages: it has feeble volatility, and does not adhere to glass, if pure. Oxidised, or otherwise impure mercury, may adhere to glass; moreover, such mercury would not have the density of the pure metal, and therefore the barometric column would be either greater or less than it should be. The mercury of commerce generally contains lead; sometimes traces of iron and sulphur. It is necessary, therefore, for the manufacturer to purify the mercury; and this is done by washing it with diluted acetic, or sulphuric acid, which dissolves the impurities. No better test can be found for ascertaining if the mercury be pure than that of filling a delicate thermometer tube; if, on exhausting the air from this thermometer, the mercury will freely run up and down the bore, which is probably one thousandth of an inch in diameter, the mercury from which this thermometer was made will be found fit for any purpose, and with it a tube may be filled and boiled, not only of one inch, but even of two inches diameter. In all barometers it is requisite that the space above the mercurial column should be completely void of air and aqueous vapour, because these gases, by virtue of their elasticity, would depress the column. To exclude these the mercury is introduced, and boiled in the tube, over a charcoal fire, kept up for the purpose. In this manner the air and vapour which adhere to the glass are expanded, and escape away. One can tell whether a barometer has been properly "boiled," as it is termed, by simply holding the tube in a slanting direction and allowing the mercury to strike the top. If the boiling has been well performed, the mercury will give a clear, metallic sound; if not, a dull, flat sound, showing some air to be present. When the mercury in a barometer tube rises or falls, the level of the mercury in the cup, or _cistern_, as it is generally termed, falls or rises by a proportionate quantity, which depends upon the relative areas of the interior of the tube and of the cistern. It is necessary that this should be taken into consideration in ascertaining the exact height of the column. If a fixed scale is applied to the tube, the correct height may be obtained by applying a correction for capacity. A certain height of the mercury is ascertained to be accurately measured by the scale, and should be marked on the instrument as the _neutral point_. Above this point the heights measured are all less, and below, all more, than they should be. The ratio between the internal diameters of the tube and cistern (which should also be stated on the instrument, as, for instance, capac. 1/50) supplies the data for finding the correction to be applied. This correction is obviated by constructing the cistern so as to allow of the surface of the mercury in it being adjustable to the commencement of the fixed scale, as by Fortin's or Negretti's plan. It is also unnecessary in barometers constructed on what is now called the "Kew method." These will all be detailed in their proper place. The tube, being fixed to the cistern, may have a moveable scale applied to it. But such an arrangement requires the utmost care and skill in observing, and is seldom seen except in first-class Observatories. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] =3. Fortin's Barometer.=--Fortin's plan of constructing a barometer cistern is shown in fig. 2. The cistern is formed of a glass cylinder, which allows of the level of the mercury within being seen. The bottom of the cylinder is made of sheep-skin or leather, like a bag, so as to allow of being pushed up or lowered by means of a screw, D B, worked from beneath. This screw moves through the bottom of a brass cylinder, C C, which is fixed outside, and protects the glass cylinder containing the mercury. At the top of the interior of the cistern is fixed a small piece of ivory, A, the point of which exactly coincides with the zero of the scale. This screw and moveable cistern-bottom serve also to render the barometer portable, by confining the mercury in the tube, and preventing its coming into the cistern, which is thus made too small to receive it. 4. STANDARD BAROMETER. Fig. 3 represents a Standard Barometer on Fortin's principle. The barometer tube is enclosed and protected by a tube of brass extending throughout its whole length; the upper portion of the brass tube has two longitudinal openings opposite each other; on one side of the front opening is the barometrical scale of English inches, divided to show, by means of a vernier, 1/500th of an inch; on the opposite side is sometimes divided a scale of French millimetres, reading also by a vernier to 1/10th of a millimetre (see directions for reading the vernier, page 7). A thermometer, C, is attached to the frame, and divided to degrees, which can be read to tenths; it is necessary for ascertaining the temperature of the instrument, in order to correct the observed height of the barometer. [Illustration: Fig. 3.] As received by the observer, the barometer will consist of two parts, packed separately for safety in carriage,--1st, the barometer tube and cistern, filled with mercury, the brass tube, with its divided scale and thermometer; and 2nd, a mahogany board, with bracket at top, and brass ring with three adjusting screws at bottom. _Directions for fixing the Barometer._--In selecting a position for a barometer, care should be taken to place it so that the sun cannot shine upon it, and that it is not affected by direct heat from a fire. The cistern should be from two to three feet above the ground, which will give a height for observing convenient to most persons. A standard barometer should be compared with an observatory standard of acknowledged accuracy, to determine its index error; which, as such instruments are graduated by micrometrical apparatus of great exactitude, will be constant for all parts of the scale. It should be capable of turning on its axis by a movement of the hand, so that little difficulty can ever be experienced in obtaining a good light for observation. Having determined upon the position in which to place the instrument, fix the mahogany board as nearly vertical as possible, and ascertain if the barometer is perfect and free from air, in the following manner:--lower the screw at the bottom of the cistern several turns, so that the mercury in the tube, when held upright, may fall two or three inches from the top; then slightly incline the instrument from the vertical position, and if the mercury in striking the top elicit a sharp tap, the instrument is perfect. Supposing the barometer to be in perfect condition, as it is almost sure to be, it is next suspended on the brass bracket, its cistern passing through the ring at bottom, and allowed to find its vertical position, after which it is firmly clamped by means of the three thumb-screws. _To Remove the Instrument when fixed to another Position._--If it should be necessary to remove the barometer,--first, by means of the adjusting screw, drive the mercury to the top of the tube, turning it gently when it is approaching the top, and cease directly any resistance is experienced; next, remove from the upper bracket or socket; lift the instrument and invert it, carrying it with its lower end upwards. _Directions for taking an Observation._--Before making an observation, the mercury in the cistern must be raised or lowered by means of the thumb-screw, F, until the ivory point, E, and its reflected image in the mercury, D, are just in contact; the vernier is then moved by means of the milled head, until its lower termination just excludes the light from the top of the mercurial column; the reading is then taken by means of the scale on the limb and the vernier. The vernier should be made to read upward in all barometers, unless for a special object, as this arrangement admits of the most exact setting. In observing, the eye should be placed in a right line with the fore and back edges of the lower termination of the vernier; and this line should be made to form a tangent to the apex of the mercurial column. A small reflector placed behind the vernier and moving with it, so as to assist in throwing the light through the back slit of the brass frame on to the glass tube, is advantageous; and the observer's vision may be further assisted by the aid of a reading lens. The object is, in these Standard Barometers, to obtain an exact reading, which can only be done by having the eye, the fore part of the zero edge of the vernier, the top of the mercurial column, and the back of the vernier, in the same horizontal plane. _Uniformity of Calibre._--The diameter of that part of the tube through which the oscillations of the mercury will take place is very carefully examined to insure uniformity of calibre, and only those tubes are used which are as nearly as possible of the same diameter throughout. The size of the bore should be marked on the frame of the barometer in tenths and hundredths of an inch. A correction due to capillary action, and depending on the size of the tube, must be applied to the readings. =5. Correction due to Capillarity.=--When an open tube of small bore is plunged into mercury, the fluid will not rise to the same level inside as it has outside. Hence, the effect of capillary action is to depress the mercurial column; and the more so the smaller the tube. The following table gives the correction for tubes in ordinary use:-- Diameter Depression, in Depression, in of tube. boiled tubes. unboiled tubes. INCH. INCH. INCH. 0·60 0·002 0·004 0·55 0·003 0·005 0·50 0·003 0·007 0·45 0·005 0·010 0·40 0·007 0·015 0·35 0·010 0·021 0·15 0·044 0·029 0·10 0·070 0·041 0·30 0·014 0·058 0·25 0·020 0·086 0·20 0·029 0·140 This correction is always additive to the observed reading of the barometer. =6. Correction due to Temperature.=--In all kinds of mercurial barometers attention must be given to the temperature of the mercury. As this metal expands and contracts very much for variations of temperature, its density alters correspondingly, and in consequence the height of the barometric column also varies. To ascertain the temperature of the mercury, a thermometer is placed near the tube, and is sometimes made to dip into the mercury in the cistern. The freezing point of water, 32°F., is the temperature to which all readings of barometers must be reduced, in order to make them fairly comparable. The reduction may be effected by calculation, but the practical method is by tables for the purpose; and for these tables we refer the reader to the works mentioned at the end of this book. =7. Correction due to Height above the Half-tide Level.=--Further, in order that barometrical observations generally may be made under similar circumstances, the readings, corrected for capacity, capillarity, and temperature, should be reduced to what they would be at the sea-level, by adding a correction corresponding to the height above the mean level of the sea, or of half-tide. For practical purposes of comparison with barometric pressure at other localities, add one-tenth of an inch to the reading for each hundred feet of elevation above the sea. For scientific accuracy this will not suffice, but a correction must be obtained by means of Schuckburg's formula, or tables computed therefrom. =8. The Barometer Vernier.=--The _vernier_, an invaluable contrivance for measuring small spaces, was invented by Peter Vernier, about the year 1630. The barometer scale is divided into inches and tenths. The vernier enables us to accurately subdivide the tenths into hundredths, and, in first-class instruments, even to thousandths of an inch. It consists of a short scale made to pass along the graduated fixed scale by a sliding motion, or preferably by a rack-and-pinion motion, the vernier being fixed on the rack, which is moved by turning the milled head of the pinion. The principle of the vernier, to whatever instrumental scale applied, is that the divisions of the moveable scale are to those in an equal length of the fixed scale in the proportion of two numbers which differ from each other by unity. [Illustration: Fig. 4.] [Illustration: Fig. 5.] The scales of standard barometers are usually divided into half-tenths, or ·05, of an inch, as represented, in fig. 5, by AB. The vernier, CD, is made equal in length to twenty-four of these divisions, and divided into twenty-five equal parts; consequently one space on the scale is larger than one on the vernier by the twenty-fifth part of ·05, which is ·002 inch, so that such a vernier shows differences of ·002 inch. The vernier of the figure reading upwards, the lower edge, D, will denote the top of the barometer column; and is the zero of the vernier scale. In fig. 4, the zero being in line exactly with 29 inches and five-tenths of the fixed scale, the barometer reading would be 29·500 inches. It will be seen that the vernier line, _a_, falls short of a division of the scale by, as we have explained, ·002 inch; _b_, by ·004; _c_, by ·006; _d_, by ·008; and the next line by one hundredth. If, then, the vernier be moved so as to make _a_ coincide with _z_, on the scale, it will have moved through ·002 inch; and if 1 on the vernier be moved into line with _y_ on the scale, the space measured will be ·010. Hence, the figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 on the vernier measure hundredths, and the intermediate lines even thousandths of an inch. In fig. 5, the zero of the vernier is intermediate 29·65 and 29·70 on the scale. Passing the eye up the vernier and scale, the second line above 3 is perceived to lie evenly with a line of the scale. This gives ·03 and ·004 to add to 29·65, so that the actual reading is 29·684 inches. It may happen that no line on the vernier _accurately_ lies in the same straight line with one on the scale; in such a case a doubt will arise as to the selection of one from two equally coincident, and the intermediate thousandth of an inch should be taken. For the ordinary purposes of the barometer as a "weather-glass," such minute measurement is not required. Hence, in household and marine barometers the scale need only be divided to tenths, and the vernier constructed to measure hundredths of an inch. This is done by making the vernier either 9 or 11-10ths of an inch long, and dividing it into ten equal parts. The lines above the zero line are then numbered from 1 to 10; sometimes the alternate divisions only are numbered, the intermediate numbers being very readily inferred. Hence, if the first line of the vernier agrees with one on the scale, the next must be out one-tenth of a tenth, or ·01 of an inch from agreement with the next _scale_ line; the following vernier line must be ·02 out, and so on. Consequently, when the vernier is set to the mercurial column, the difference shown by the vernier from the tenth on the scale is the hundredths to be added to the inches and tenths of the scale. A little practice will accustom a person to set and read any barometer quickly; an important matter where accuracy is required, as the heat of the body, or the hand, is very rapidly communicated to the instrument, and may vitiate, to some extent, the observation. 9. SELF-COMPENSATING STANDARD BAROMETER. This barometer has been suggested to Messrs. Negretti and Zambra by Wentworth Erk, Esq. It consists of a regular barometer; but attached to the vernier is a double rack worked with one pinion, so that in setting or adjusting the vernier in one position, the second rack moves in directly the opposite direction, carrying along with it a plug or plunger the exact size of the internal diameter of the tube dipping in the cistern, so that whatever the displacement that has taken place in the cistern, owing to the rise or fall of the mercury, it is exactly compensated by the plug being more or less immersed in the mercury, so that no capacity correction is required. A barometer on this principle is, however, no novelty, for at the Royal Society's room a very old instrument may be seen reading somewhat after the same manner. [Illustration: Fig. 6.] Fig. 6 is an illustration of the appearance of this instrument. The cistern is so constructed that the greatest amount of light is admitted to the surface of the mercury. 10. BAROMETER WITH ELECTRICAL ADJUSTMENT. This barometer is useful to persons whose eyesight may be defective; and is capable of being read off to greater accuracy than ordinary barometers, as will be seen by the following description:--The barometer consists of an upright tube dipping into a cistern, so contrived, that an up-and-down movement, by means of a screw, can be imparted to it. In the top of the tube a piece of platina wire is hermetically sealed. The cistern also has a metallic connection, so that by means of covered copper wires (in the back of the frame) a circuit is established; another connection also exists by means of a metallic point dipping into the cistern. The circuit, however, can be cut off from this by means of a switch placed about midway up the frame; on one side of the tube is placed a scale of inches; a small circular vernier, divided into 100 parts, is connected with the dipping point, and works at right angles with this scale. To set the instrument in action for taking an observation, a small battery is connected by means of two small binding screws at the bottom of the frame. The switch is turned upwards, thereby disconnecting the dipping point; the cistern is then screwed up, so that the mercury in the tube is brought into contact with the platina wire at the top; the instant this is effected the magnetic needle seen on the barometer will be deflected. The switch is now turned down; by so doing the connection with the upper wire or platina is cut off, and established instead only between the dipping point carrying the circular vernier and the bottom of the cistern; the point is now screwed by means of the milled head until the needle is again deflected. We may now be sure that the line on the circular vernier that cuts the division on the scale is the exact height of the barometer. Although the description here given may seem somewhat lengthy, the operation itself is performed in less time than would be taken in reading off an ordinary instrument. 11. PEDIMENT BAROMETERS. [Illustration: Fig. 7.] [Illustration: Fig. 8.] [Illustration: Fig. 9.] [Illustration: Fig. 10.] [Illustration: Fig. 11.] These Barometers, generally for household purposes, are illustrated by figs. 7 to 11. They are intended chiefly for "weather glasses," and are manufactured to serve not only a useful, but an ornamental purpose as well. They are usually framed in wood, such as mahogany, rosewood, ebony, oak or walnut, and can be obtained either plain or handsomely and elaborately carved and embellished, in a variety of designs, so as to be suitable for private rooms, large halls, or public buildings. The scales to the barometer and its attached thermometer may be ivory, porcelain, or silvered metal. It is not desirable that the vernier should read nearer than one-hundredth of an inch. Two verniers and scales may be fitted one on either side of the mercurial column, so that one can denote the last reading, and thus show at a glance the extent of rise or fall in the interval. The scale and thermometer should be covered with plate glass. A cheap instrument has an open face and plain frame, with sliding vernier instead of rack-and-pinion motion. The barometer may or may not have a moveable bottom to the cistern, with screw for the purpose of securing the mercury for portability. The cistern should not, however, require adjustment to a zero or fiducial point. It should be large enough to contain the mercury, which falls from 31 to 27 inches, without any appreciable error on the height read off on the scale. =12. The Words on the Scale.=--The following words are usually engraved on the scales of these barometers, although they are not now considered of so much importance as formerly:-- At 31 inches Very dry. " 30·5 " Settled fair. " 30 " Fair. " 29·5 " Changeable. " 29 " Rain. " 28·5 " Much rain. " 28 " Stormy. The French place upon their barometers a similar formula:-- At 785 millimètres Très-sec. " 776 " Beau-fixe. " 767 " Beau temps. " 758 " Variable. " 749 " Pluie ou vent. " 740 " Grande pluie. " 731 " Tempête. Manufacturers of barometers have uniformly adopted these indications for all countries, without regard to the elevation above the sea, or the different geographical conditions; and as it can readily be shown that the height and variations of the barometer are dependent on these, it follows that barometers have furnished indications which, under many circumstances, have been completely false. Even in this country, and near the sea-level, storms are frequent with the barometer not below 29; rain is not uncommon with the glass at 30; even fine weather sometimes occurs with a low pressure; while it is evident that at an elevation of a few thousand feet the mercury would never rise to 30 inches; hence, according to the scale, there should never be fair weather there. If tempests happened as seldom in our latitude as the barometer gets down to 28 inches, the maritime portion of the community at least would be happy indeed. These words have long been ridiculed by persons acquainted with the causes of the barometric fluctuations; nevertheless opticians continue to place them on the scales, evidently only because they appear to add to the importance of the instrument in the eyes of those who have not learned their general inutility. In different regions of the world, the indications of the barometer are modified by the conditions peculiar to the geographical position and elevation above the sea, and it is necessary to take account of these in any attempt to found rules of general utility in connection with the barometer as a weather guide. All that can be said in favour of these words is, that within a few hundred feet of the sea-level, when the column rises or falls gradually during two or three days towards "Fair" or "Rain," the indications they afford of the coming weather are generally extremely probable; but when the variations are quick, upward or downward, they presage unsettled or stormy weather. Admiral FitzRoy writes:--"The words on the scales of barometers should not be so much regarded, for weather indications, as the rising or falling of the mercury; for if it stands at _Changeable_, and then rises a little towards _Fair_, it presages a change of wind or weather, though not so great as if the mercury had risen higher; and, on the contrary, if the mercury stands above _Fair_ and falls, it presages a change, though not to so great a degree as if it had stood lower; besides which, the direction and force of wind are not in any way noticed. It is not from the point at which the mercury stands that we are alone to form a judgment of the state of the weather, but from its _rising_ or _falling_; and from the movements of immediately preceding days as well as hours, keeping in mind effects of change of _direction_ and dryness, or moisture, as well as alteration of force or strength of wind."[1] =13. Correction due to Capacity of Cistern.=--These barometers, having no adjustment for the zero of the scale, require a correction for the varying level of the mercury in the cistern, when the observations are required for strict comparison with other barometric observations, or when they are registered for scientific purposes; but for the common purpose of predicting the weather, this correction is unnecessary. The neutral point, and the ratio of the bore of the tube to the diameter of the cistern, must be known (see p. 3). Then the capacity correction, as it is termed, is found as follows:--Take the fractional part, expressed by the capacity ratio, of the difference between the observed reading and the height of the neutral point; then, if the mercury stand _below_ the neutral point, _subtract_ this result from the reading; if it stand _above_, _add_ it to the reading. For example, suppose the neutral point to be 29·95 inches, and the capacity ratio 1/50, required the correction when the barometer reads 30·78. Here 30·78 - 29·95 = 0·83 Correction = 0·83/50 = +0·02 nearly. Scale reading 30·78 ----- Correct reading 30·80 ===== Of course the correction could as easily be found to three decimal places, if desirable. It is evident that the correction is more important the greater the distance of the top of the mercury from the neutral point. 14. PUBLIC BAROMETERS. Since the increased attention paid to the signs of forthcoming weather of late years, and the good which has resulted therefrom to farmers, gardeners, civil engineers, miners, fishermen, and mariners generally, by forewarning of impending wet or stormy weather, the desirability of having good barometers exposed in public localities has become evident. Barometers may now be seen attached to drinking fountains, properly protected, and are frequently consulted by the passers-by. But it is among those whose lives are endangered by sudden changes in the weather, fishermen especially, that the warning monitor is most urgently required. Many poor fishing villages and towns have therefore been provided by the Board of Trade, at the public expense, and through the humane effort of Admiral FitzRoy, with first-class barometers, each fixed in a conspicuous position, so as to be easily accessible to all who desire to consult it. Following this example, the Royal National Life Boat Institution has supplied each of its stations with a similar storm warner; the Duke of Northumberland and the British Meteorological Society have erected several on the coast of Northumberland; and many other individuals have presented barometers to maritime places with which they are connected. These barometers have all been manufactured by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra. The form given to the instrument seems well adapted for public purposes. [Illustration: Fig. 12.] =15. Fishery or Sea-coast Barometers.=--Fig. 12 gives a representation of these coast and fishery barometers. The frame is of solid oak, firmly screwed together. The scales are very legibly engraved on porcelain by Negretti and Zambra's patent process. The thermometer is large, and easily read; and as this instrument is exposed, it will indicate the actual temperature sufficiently for practical purposes. The barometer tube is three-tenths of an inch in diameter of bore, exhibiting a good column of mercury; and the cistern is of such capacity, in relation to the tube, that the change of height in the surface of the mercury in the cistern corresponding to a change of height of three inches of mercury in the tube, is less than one-hundredth of an inch, and therefore, as the readings are only to be made to this degree of accuracy, this small error is of no importance. The cistern is made of boxwood, which is sufficiently porous to allow the atmosphere to influence the mercurial column; but the top is plugged with porous cane, to admit of free and certain play. =16. Admiral FitzRoy's Scale Words.=--The directions given on the scales of these barometers were drawn up by Admiral FitzRoy, F.R.S. They appear to be founded on the following considerations:-- Supposing a compass diagram, with the principal points laid down, the N.E. is the wind for which the barometer stands highest; for the S.W. wind it is lowest. This is found to be so in the great majority of cases; but there are exceptions to this, as to all rules. The N.E. and S.W. may therefore be regarded as the poles of the winds, being opposite each other. When the wind veers from the S.W. through W. and N. to N.E., the barometer gradually rises; on the contrary, when the wind veers from N.E. and E. to S.E., S. and S.W., the mercury falls. A similar curious law exists in relation to the veering of the wind, and the action of the thermometer. As the wind veers from the S.W. to W. and N., the thermometer falls; as it veers from N.E. to E. and S., it rises, because the wind gets from a colder to a warmer quarter. The polar winds are cold, dry, and heavy. Those from the equatorial regions are warm, moist, and comparatively light. These laws have been clearly developed and expressed by Professor Dové in his work on the "Law of Storms." The warm winds of Europe are those which bring the greatest quantity of rain, as they blow from the ocean, and come heavily laden with moisture. The cold winds, besides containing less moisture, blow more from the land. The weight of the vapour of the warm winds tends to raise the barometric column; but, at the same time, the increased dilatation of the air tends to lower it. This latter influence being the stronger, the barometer always falls for these winds; and in regions where they traverse a large extent of land, retain their heat, and become necessarily very dry, the fall in the barometer will be greater. Admiral FitzRoy's words for the scales of barometers for use in northern latitudes, then, are as follows:-- _RISE._ _FALL._ FOR FOR N. ELY. S. WLY. NW.--N.--E. SE.--S.--W. DRY WET OR OR LESS MORE WIND. WIND. ------- ------- EXCEPT EXCEPT WET FROM WET FROM N. ED. N. ED. ------- ------- Long foretold, long last; First rise after low, Short notice, soon past. Foretells stronger blow. It will be perceived that the exception in each case applies to N.E. winds. The barometer may fall with north-easterly winds, but they will be violent and accompanied with rain, hail, or snow; again, it will rise with these winds accompanied with rain, when they are light, and bring only little rain. It rises, however, highest with the dry and light N.E. winds. These directions are very practically useful; they provide for geographical position--also for elevation above the sea--since they are not appended to any particular height of the column. They are suited to the northern hemisphere generally, as well as around the British Isles. The same directions are adapted to the southern hemisphere, by simply substituting for the letter N the letter S, reading south for north, and _vice versa_. South of the equator the cold winds come from the south; the warm, from the north. The S.E. wind in the southern hemisphere corresponds to the N.E. in the northern. The laws there are, while the wind veers from S.E. through E. to N. and N.W., the barometer falls and the thermometer rises. As the wind veers from N.W. through W. and S. to S.E., the barometer rises and the thermometer falls. =17. Instructions for the Sea-coast Barometer.=--The directions for fixing the barometer, and making it portable when it has to be removed, should be attended to carefully. The barometer should be suspended against a frame or piece of wood, so that light may be seen _through_ the tube. Otherwise a piece of paper, or a _white place_, should be behind the upper or _scale part_ of the _tube_. When suspended on a hook, or stout nail, apply the milled-head key (which will be found just below the scales) to the square brass pin at the lower end of the instrument, and turn _gently_ toward the left hand till the screw stops; then take off the key and replace it for use, near the scale, as it was before. The cistern bottom being thus _let down_, the mercury will sink to its proper level quickly. In removing this barometer it is necessary to _slope it gradually_, till the mercury is at the top of the tube, and then, with the instrument reversed, to screw up the cistern bottom, or bag, by the key, used _gently_, till it stops. It will then be portable, and may be carried with the _cistern_ end _upwards_, or lying flat; but it must not be jarred, or receive a concussion. =18. French Sea-coast Barometer.=--The French have imitated this form of barometer for coast service, and have translated Admiral FitzRoy's indications for the scale as follows:-- LA LA HAUSSE BAISSE INDIQUE. INDIQUE. --------- --------- DES VENTS DE LA DES VENTS DE LA PARTIE DU PARTIE DU N.E. S.O. (DU N.O. á l'E) (DU S.E. á l'O.) (PAR LE NORD. ) (PAR LE SUD. ) DE LA DE SÉCHERESSE. L'HUMIDITÉ. --------- --------- UN VENT UN VENT PLUS FAIBLE PLUS FORT EXCEPTÉ S'IL PLEUT EXCEPTÉ S'IL PLEUT AVEC DE FORTES BRISES AVEC DE PETITES BRISES DU N.E. DU N.E. --------- --------- Mouvements lents, Le commencement Temps durable. de la hausse, --------- après une grande Mouvements rapides, baisse présage Temps variable. un Vent violent. MARINE BAROMETERS. =19. The Common Form.=--The barometer is of great use to the mariner, who, by using it as a "weather glass," is enabled to foresee and prepare for sudden changes in the weather. For marine purposes, the lower portion of the glass tube of the barometer must be contracted to a fine bore, to prevent oscillation in the mercurial column, which would otherwise be occasioned by the movements of the ship. This tube is cemented to the cistern, which is made of boxwood, and has a moveable leathern bottom, for the purpose of rendering the instrument portable, by screwing up the mercury compactly in the tube. The tube is enclosed in a mahogany frame, which admits of a variety of style in shape, finish, and display, to meet the different fancies and means of purchasers. The frame is generally enlarged at the upper part to receive the scales and the attached thermometer, which are covered by plate glass. The cistern is encased in brass for protection, the bottom portion unscrewing to give access to the portable screw beneath the cistern. Figs. 13 and 14 illustrate this form of barometer. Marine barometers require to be suspended, so that they may remain in a vertical position under the changeable positions of a vessel at sea. To effect this they are suspended in gimbals by a brass arm. The gimbals consist of a loose ring fastened by thumb-screws to the middle part of the frame of the barometer, in front and back. The forked end of the arm supports this ring at the sides, also by the aid of thumb-screws. Hence the superior weight of the cistern end is always sufficient to cause the instrument to move on its bearing screws, so as always to maintain a perpendicular position; in fact, it is so delicately held that it yields to the slightest disturbance in any direction. The other end of the arm is attached to a stout plate, having holes for screws, or fitted to slip into a staple or bracket, by which it may be fixed to any part of the cabin of a ship; the arm is hinged to the plate, for the purpose of turning the arm and barometer up whenever it is desirable. [Illustration: Fig. 13.] [Illustration: Fig. 14.] Other forms of barometer (to be immediately described) have superseded this in the British Marine, but the French still give the preference to the wooden frames. They think the barometer can be more securely mounted in wood, is more portable, and less liable to be broken by a sudden concussion than if fitted in a metal frame. The English deem the ordinary wooden barometers not sufficiently accurate, owing to the irregular expansion of wood, arising from its hygrometric properties. Some of the English opticians have shown that very portable, and really accurate barometers can be made in brass frames, and therefore the preference is now given to this latter material. =20. The Kew Marine Barometer.=--The form of barometer so-called, is that recommended by the Congress of Brussels, held in 1853, for the purpose of devising a systematic plan of promoting meteorological observations at sea. The materials employed in its construction are mercury, glass, iron, and brass. The upper part of the tube is carefully calibrated to ensure uniformity of bore, as this is a point upon which the accuracy of the instrument to some extent depends. At sea, the barometer has never been known to stand above 31 inches, nor below 27. These extremes have been attained with instruments of undoubted accuracy, but they are quite exceptional. It is not necessary, therefore, to carry the scales of marine barometers beyond these limits, but they should not be made shorter. If the vernier is adjusted to read upward, the scale should extend to 32 inches, to allow room for the vernier to be set to 31 inches at least. Cases have occurred in which this could not be done, and rare, but valuable observations have been lost in consequence. If the scale part of the tube be not uniform in bore, the index error will be irregular throughout the scale. Whether the bore of the rest of the tube varies in diameter, is of no moment. From two to three inches below the measured part, the bore is contracted very much, to prevent the pulsations in the mercurial column--called "pumping"--which, otherwise, would occur at sea from the motion of the ship. In ordinary marine barometers, this contraction extends to the end of the tube. Below the contracted part is inserted a pipette--or Gay Lussac air-trap--which is a little elongated funnel with the point downwards. Its object is to arrest any air that may work in between the glass and the mercury. The bubble of air lodges at the shoulder, and can go up no farther. It is one of those simple contrivances which turn out remarkably useful. If any air gets into the tube, it does not get to the top, and therefore does not vitiate the performance of the barometer; for the mercury itself works up and down through the funnel. Below this, the tube should not be unnecessarily contracted. [Illustration: Fig. 15.] The open end of the tube is fixed into an iron cylinder, which forms the cistern of the barometer. Iron has no action upon mercury, and is therefore used instead of any other metal. One or two holes are made in the top of the cistern, which are covered on the inside with strong sheep-skin leather, so as to be impervious to mercury, but sufficiently porous for the outer air to act upon the column. The cistern is of capacity sufficient to receive the mercury which falls out of the tube until the column stands lower than the scale reads; and when the tube is completely full, there is enough mercury to cover the extremity so as to prevent access of air. There is no screw required for screwing up the mercury. The glass tube thus secured to the cistern is protected by a brass tubular frame, into which the iron cistern fits and screws compactly. Cork is used to form bearings for the tube. A few inches above the cistern is placed the attached thermometer. Its bulb is enclosed in the frame, so as to be equally affected by heat with the barometric column. The upper end of the frame is fitted with a cap which screws on, and embraces a glass shield which rests in a gallery formed on the frame below the scale, and serves to protect the silvered scale, as well as the inner tube, from dust and damp. A ring, moveable in a collar fixed on the frame above the centre of gravity of the instrument, is attached to gimbals, and the whole is supported by a brass arm in the usual manner; so that the instrument can be moved round its axis to bring any source of light upon it, and will remain vertical in all positions of the ship. The vernier reads to five-hundredths of an inch. No words are placed upon the scale, as the old formulary was deemed misleading. The vernier can be set with great exactness, as light is admitted to the top of the mercury by a front and a back slit in the frame. The lower edge of the vernier should be brought to the top of the mercury, so as just to shut out the light. It is evident that this form of barometer must be more reliable in its indications than those in wooden frames. The graduations can be accurately made, and they will be affected only by well-known alterations due to temperature. Some think the tube is too firmly held, and therefore liable to be broken by concussion more readily than that of an inferior instrument. This, however, appears a necessary consequence of greater exactness. It is an exceedingly good portable instrument, and can be put up and taken down very readily. These barometers are preferred to marine barometers in wood, wherever they have been used. In merchant ships, and under careful treatment, they have been found very durable. They may be sent with safety by railway, packed carefully in a wooden box. _Directions for Packing._--In removing this barometer it is necessary to slope it gradually till the mercury reaches the top of the tube. It is then portable, if carried cistern end upwards or lying flat. If carried otherwise, it will very probably be broken by the jerking motion of the heavy mercury in the glass tube. Of course it must not be jarred, or receive concussion. _Position for Marine Barometer._--Admiral FitzRoy, to whose valuable papers we are much indebted, writes in his "Barometer Manual":--"It is desirable to place the barometer in such a position as not to be in danger of a side blow, and also sufficiently far from the deck above to allow for the spring of the metal arm in cases of sudden movements of the ship. "If there is risk of the instrument striking anywhere when the vessel is much heeled, it will be desirable to put some soft padding on that place, or to check movement in that direction by a light elastic cord; in fixing which, attention must be paid to have it acting only where risk of a blow begins, not interfering otherwise with the free swing of the instrument: a very light cord attached above, when possible, will be least likely to interfere injuriously." =21. Method of verifying Marine and other Barometers.=--"In nearly all the barometers which had been employed at sea till recently the index correction varied through the range of scale readings, in proportion to the difference of capacity between the cistern and the tube. To find the index correction for a land barometer, comparison with a standard, at any part of the scale at which the mercury may happen to be, is generally considered sufficient. To test the marine barometer is a work of much more time, since it is necessary to find the correction for scale readings at about each half inch throughout the range of atmospheric pressure to which it may be exposed; and it becomes necessary to have recourse to artificial means of changing the pressure of the atmosphere on the surface of the mercury in the cistern. "The barometers to be thus tested are placed, together with a standard, in an air-tight chamber, to which an air-pump is applied, so that, by partially exhausting the air, the standard can be made to read much lower than the lowest pressure to which marine barometers are likely to be exposed; and by compressing the air it can be made to read higher than the mercury ever stands at the level of the sea. The tube of the standard is contracted similarly to that of the marine barometer, but a provision is made for adjusting the mercury in its cistern to the zero point. Glass windows are inserted in the upper part of the iron air-chamber, through which the scales of the barometers may be seen; but as the verniers cannot be moved in the usual way from outside the chamber, a provision is made for reading the height of the mercury independent of the verniers attached to the scales of the respective barometers. At a distance of some five or six feet from the air-tight chamber a vertical scale is fixed. The divisions on this scale correspond exactly with those on the tube of the standard barometer. A vernier and telescope are made to slide on the scale by means of a rack and pinion. The telescope has two horizontal wires, one fixed and the other moveable by a micrometer screw, so that the difference between the height of the column of mercury and the nearest division on the scale of the standard, and also of all the other barometers placed by the side of it for comparison, can be measured either with the vertical scale and vernier or the micrometer wire. The means are thus possessed of testing barometers for index error in any part of the scale, through the whole range of atmospheric pressure to which they are likely to be exposed; and the usual practice is to test them at every half inch from 27·5 to 31 inches. "In this way barometers of various other descriptions have been tested, and some errors found to be so large that a few barometers read half an inch and upwards too high, while others read as much too low. In some cases those which were correct in one part of the scale were found to be from half an inch to an inch wrong in other parts. These barometers were of an old and ordinary, not to say inferior, construction. In some the mercury would not descend lower than about 29 inches, owing to a fault very general in the construction of many common barometers till lately in frequent use:--the _cistern was not large enough_ to hold the mercury which descended from the tube in a _low atmospheric pressure_. "When used on shore, this contraction of the tube causes the marine barometer to be _sometimes_ a little behind an ordinary land barometer, the tube of which is not contracted. The amount varies according to the rate at which the mercury is rising or falling, and ranges from 0·00 to 0·02 of an inch. As the motion of the ship at sea causes the mercury to pass more rapidly through the contracted tube, the readings are almost the same there as they would be if the tube were not contracted, and in no case do they differ enough to be of importance in maritime use." The cistern of this marine barometer is generally made an inch and a quarter in diameter, and the scale part of the tube a quarter of an inch in bore. The inches on the scale, instead of being true, are shortened by ·04 of an inch, in order to avoid the necessity of applying a correction due to the difference of capacity of the tube and cistern. This is done with much perfection, and the errors of the instruments, when compared with a standard by the apparatus used at Kew and Liverpool Observatories, are determined to the thousandth of an inch, and are invariably very uniform and small. The error so determined includes the correction due to capillarity, capacity, and error of graduation, and forms a constant correction, so that only one variable correction, that due to temperature, need be applied, when the barometer is suspended near the water line of the ship, to make the observations comparable with others. With all the advantages of this barometer, however, it has recently been superseded, to some extent, because it was found to require more care than could ordinarily be expected to be given to it by the commander of a ship. Seamen do not exactly understand the value of such nice accuracy as the thousandth part of an inch, but prefer an instrument that reads only to a hundredth part. 22. THE FITZROY MARINE BAROMETER. Admiral FitzRoy deemed it desirable to construct a form of barometer as practically useful as possible for marine purposes. One that should be less delicate in structure than the Kew barometer, and not so finely graduated. One that could be set at a glance and read easily; that would be more likely to bear the common shocks unavoidable in a ship of war. Accordingly, the Admiral has devised a barometer, which he has thus described:-- "This marine barometer, for Her Majesty's service, is adapted to _general_ purposes. "It differs from barometers hitherto made in points of detail, rather than principle:--1. The glass tube is packed with vulcanised india-rubber, which checks vibration from concussion; but does not hold it rigidly, or prevent expansion. 2. It does not oscillate (or pump), though extremely sensitive. 3. The scale is porcelain, _very legible_, and not liable to change. 4. There is no iron anywhere (_to rust_). 5. Every part can be unscrewed, examined, or cleaned, by any careful person. 6. There is a _spare_ tube, fixed in a cistern, filled with boiled mercury, and _marked_ for adjustment in this, or _any similar_ instrument. "These barometers are graduated to hundredths, and they will be found accurate to _that_ degree, namely the second decimal of an inch. "They are packed with vulcanised caoutchouc, in order that (by this, and by a peculiar strength of glass tube) guns may be fired near these instruments without causing injury to them by ordinary concussion. "It is hoped that all such instruments, for the public service at sea, will be quite similar, so that any spare tube will fit _any_ barometer. "_To Shift a Tube._--Incline the barometer slowly, and then take it down, after allowing the mercury to fill the upper part. Lay the instrument on a table, unscrew the outer cap at the joining just below the cistern swell, then unscrew the tube _and_ cistern, by turning the cistern gently, against the sun, or to _the left_, and draw out the tube very carefully _without bending it in the least_, _turning_ it a little, if required, as moved. Then insert the new tube very cautiously, screw in, and adjust to the diamond-cut mark for 27 inches. Attach the cap, and suspend the barometer for use. "If the mercury does not immediately quit the top of the tube, tap the cistern end rather sharply. In a well-boiled tube, with a good vacuum, the mercury hangs, at times, so adhesively as to deceive, by causing a supposition of some defect. "In about ten minutes the mercurial column should be nearly right; but as local temperature affects the brass, as well as the mercury, slowly and unequally, it may be well to defer any _exact comparisons with other instruments_ for some few hours." Messrs. Negretti and Zambra are the makers of these barometers for the Royal Navy. Fig. 16 is an illustration. [Illustration: Fig. 16.] The tube is fixed to a boxwood cistern, which is plugged with very porous cane at the top, to allow of the ready influence of a variation in atmospheric pressure upon the mercury. Round the neck of the cistern is formed a brass ring, with a screw thread on its circumference. This screws into the frame, and a mark on the tube is to be adjusted to 27 inches on the scale, the cistern covering screwed on, and the instrument is ready to suspend. The frame and all the fittings are brass, without any iron whatever; because the contact of the two metals produces a galvanic action, which is objectionable. The spare tube is fitted with india-rubber, and ready at any time to replace the one in the frame. The ease with which a tube can be replaced when broken is an excellent feature of the instrument. The spare tube is carefully stowed in a box, which can also receive the complete instrument when not in use. All the parts are made to a definite gauge; the frames are, therefore, all as nearly as possible similar to each other, and the tubes--like rifle bullets--are adjustible to any frame. If, then, the tube in use gets broken, the captain can replace it by the other; but, as it is securely packed with india-rubber, there is very little liability of its being broken by fair usage. Every person who knows the importance of the barometer on board ship, will acknowledge that the supplementary tube is a decided improvement. Many instruments of this description are afloat in the Royal Navy, and in a short time it may be expected that all the frames and tubes of barometers in the public service at sea will be similar in size and character; so that should a captain have the misfortune to get both his tubes broken, he would be able to borrow another from any ship he fell in with that had one to spare, which would be perfectly accurate, because it would have been verified before it was sent out. =23. Admiral FitzRoy's Words for the Scale.=--The graduation of inches and decimals are placed in this barometer on the right-hand side of the tube; and on a similar piece of porcelain, on the left-hand, are engraved, as legibly as they are expressed succinctly, the following words, of universal application in the interpretation of the barometer movements:-- _RISE_ _FALL_ FOR FOR COLD WARM DRY WET OR OR LESS MORE WIND. WIND. -------- -------- EXCEPT EXCEPT WET FROM WET FROM COOLER SIDE. COOLER SIDE. Reverting to the explanation of the words on the "Coast" barometers (at page 14), and comparing and considering them as given for northern latitudes, and as they must be altered for southern latitudes, it will be perceived, that for all _cold_ winds the barometer rises; and falls for _warm_ winds. The mercury also falls for _increased_ strength of wind; and rises as the wind _lulls_. Likewise before or with rain the column of mercury falls; but it rises with fine dry weather. Putting these facts together, and substituting for the points of the compass the terms "cold" and "warm," the appropriateness of the words on the scale of this barometer is readily perceived. These concise and practical indications of the movements in the barometer are applicable for instruments intended for use in any region of the world, and are in perfect accordance with the laws of winds and weather deduced by Dové and other meteorologists. There is nothing objectionable in them, and being founded upon experience and the deductions made from numerous recorded observations of the weather in all parts of the world, as well as confirmed by the theories of science, they may consequently be considered as generally reliable. They involve no conjecture, but express succinctly scientific principles. =24. Trials of the FitzRoy Marine Barometer under Fire of Guns.=--Some of the first barometers made by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra on Admiral FitzRoy's principle were severely tried under the heaviest naval gun firing, on board H.M.S. _Excellent_; and under all the circumstances, they withstood the concussion. The purpose of the trials was "to ascertain whether the _vulcanized india-rubber packing_ round the glass tube of a _new marine barometer_ did check the vibration caused by firing, and whether guns might be fired close to these instruments without causing injury to them." In the first and second series of experiments, a marine barometer on Admiral FitzRoy's plan was tried against a marine barometer on the Kew principle, both instruments being new, and treated in all respects similarly. They were "hung over the gun, under the gun, and by the side of the gun, the latter both inside and outside a bulkhead,--in fact, in all ways that they would be tried in action with the bulkheads cleared away." The result was that the Kew barometer was broken and rendered useless, while the new pattern barometer was not injured in the least. In a third series of experiments, Mr. Negretti being present, five of the new pattern barometers were subjected to the concussion produced by firing a 68-pounder gun with shot, and 16 lbs. charge of powder. They were suspended from a beam immediately under the gun, then from a beam immediately over the gun, and finally they were suspended by the arm to a bulkhead, at a distance of only 3 ft. 6 in. from the axis of the gun; and the result was, according to the official report, "that all these barometers, however suspended, would stand, without the slightest injury, the most severe concussion that they would ever be likely to experience in any sea-going man-of-war." These trials were conducted under the superintendence of Captain Hewlett, C.B., and the guns were fired in the course of his _usual_ instructions. His reports to Admiral FitzRoy, giving all the particulars of the trials, are published in the "Ninth Number of Meteorological Papers," issued by the Board of Trade.[2] 25. NEGRETTI AND ZAMBRA'S FARMER'S BAROMETER AND DOMESTIC WEATHER-GLASS. It is a well-known fact that the barometer is as much, or even more affected by a change of wind as it is by rain; and the objection raised against a simple barometer reading, as leaving the observer in doubt whether to expect wind or rain, is removed by the addition of the Hygrometer, an instrument indicating the comparative degree of dryness or dampness of the air;--a most important item in the determination of the coming weather. The farmer should not be content to let his crops lie at the mercy, so to speak, of the weather, when he has within his command instruments which may be the means of preventing damage to, and in cases total loss of, his crops. The farmer hitherto has had to depend for his prognostication of the weather on his own unassisted "Weather Wisdom;" and it is perfectly marvellous how expert he has become in its use. Science now steps in, not to ignore this experience, but on the contrary, to give it most valuable assistance by extending it, and enabling it to predict, with an accuracy hitherto unknown, the various changes that take place in this most variable of climates. To the invalid, the importance of predicting with tolerable accuracy the changes that are likely to occur in the weather, cannot be over-rated. Many colds would be prevented, if we could know that the morning so balmy and bright, would subside into a cold and cheerless afternoon. Even to the robust, much inconvenience may be prevented by a due respect to the indications of the hygrometer and the barometer, and the delicate in health will do well to regard its warnings. [Illustration: Fig. 17.] _Description of the Instrument._--The farmer's barometer, as figured in the margin, consists of an upright tube of mercury inverted in a cistern of the same fluid; this is secured against a strong frame of wood, at the upper end of which is fixed the scale, divided into inches and tenths of an inch. On either side of the barometer, or centre tube, are two thermometers--that on the left hand has its bulb uncovered and freely exposed, and indicates the temperature of the air at the place of observation; that on the right hand has its bulb covered with a piece of muslin, from which depend a few threads of soft lamp cotton; this cotton is immersed in the small cup situated just under the thermometer, this vessel being full of water; the water rises by capillary attraction to the muslin-covered bulb, and keeps it in a constantly moist state. These two thermometers, which we distinguish by the names "Wet Bulb" and "Dry Bulb," form the Hygrometer; and it is by the simultaneous reading of these two thermometers, and noting the difference that exists between their indications, that the humidity in the atmosphere is determined. Admiral FitzRoy's words (see p. 22) are placed upon the scale of the barometer, as the value of a reading depends, not so much on the actual height of the mercury in the tube, as it does on whether the column is rising, steady, or falling. The moveable screw at the bottom of the cistern is for the purpose of forcing the mercury to the top of the tube when the instrument is being carried from place to place, and it must always be unscrewed to its utmost limit when the barometer is hung in its proper place. After this it should never be touched. The manner in which the Hygrometer acts is as follows: It is a pretty well-known fact that water or wine is often cooled by a wet cloth being tied round the bottle, and then being placed in a current of air. The evaporation that takes place in the progressive drying of the cloth causes the temperature to fall considerably below that of the surrounding atmosphere, and the contents of the bottle are thus cooled. In the same manner, then, the covered wet bulb thermometer will be found _invariably_ to read lower than the uncovered one; and the greater the dryness of the air, the greater will be the difference between the indications of the two thermometers; and the more moisture that exists in the air, the more nearly they will read alike. The cup must be kept filled with pure water, and occasionally cleaned out, to remove any dirt. The muslin, or cotton-wick, should also be renewed every few weeks. The hygrometer may be had separate from the barometer, if the combined instruments cannot be sufficiently exposed to the external air, this being essential for the successful use of the hygrometer. This farmer's weather-glass, then, consists of three distinct instruments: the barometer, the thermometer, and the hygrometer. He has thus at command the three instrumental data necessary for the prediction of the weather. And now to describe-- _How to Use the Instrument._--The observations should be taken twice a day, say at 9 A.M. and 3 P.M.; and should be entered on a slip of paper, or a slate hung up by the barometer. The observer will then be able to see the different values of the readings from time to time, and to draw his conclusions therefrom. The thermometer on the left hand should first be read, and a note made of its indication, which is the temperature of the air. The wet bulb thermometer should now be read, and also noted; and the difference should be taken of these two readings. Next read the barometer by moving the small index at the side of the tube until it is on a level with the top of the mercury. Having noted the number of inches at which the column stands, compare with the last observation, and see immediately whether the barometer is rising, steady, or falling. Now, having taken the observations as above, we naturally ask the question, _What are we to predict from them?_ And, probably, the best way of answering this query will be by giving an example. We will suppose that our readings yesterday were as follows:--Temperature, 70°; Wet Bulb, 69°; Difference, 1°; =very moist air. Barometer, 29·5, and that rain has fallen. To-day, we read:--Temperature, 60°; Wet Bulb, 55°; Difference, 5°; =dryer air. Barometer, 30. We may safely predict that the rain will cease, and probably we may have wind from the northward. In spring or autumn, if the barometric height be steady any where between 29·5 and 30 inches, with the temperature about 60°, fresh to moderate south-westerly winds, with cloudy sky, will probably characterize the weather; the indications of the hygrometer being then specially serviceable in enabling us to foretell rain; but if the mercury become steady at about 30·5 inches, with temperature about 40°, north-easterly winds, dry air, and clear sky, may be confidently expected. Many cases will doubtless suggest themselves to the observer where these figures do not occur, and where he might find a difficulty in interpreting the indications of his instruments. We have, therefore, drawn up some concise rules for his guidance; and although they will not prove absolutely infallible guides to this acknowledged most difficult problem, still, they will be found of much service in foretelling the weather, when added to an intelligent observation of ordinary atmospheric phenomena, as force and direction of wind, nature of any particular season, and the time of year. 26. RULES FOR FORETELLING THE WEATHER. A RISING BAROMETER. A "Rapid" rise indicates unsettled weather. A "Gradual" rise indicates settled weather. A "Rise," with dry air, and cold increasing in summer, indicates wind from northward; and if rain has fallen, better weather is to be expected. A "Rise," with moist air and a low temperature, indicates wind and rain from northward. A "Rise," with southerly wind, indicates fine weather. A STEADY BAROMETER, With dry air and a seasonable temperature, indicates a continuance of very fine weather. A FALLING BAROMETER. A "Rapid" fall indicates stormy weather. A "Rapid" fall, with westerly wind, indicates stormy weather from northward. A "Fall," with a northerly wind, indicates storm, with rain and hail in summer, and snow in winter. A "Fall," with increased moisture in the air, and the heat increasing, indicates wind and rain from southward. A "Fall," with dry air, and cold increasing (in winter), indicates snow. A "Fall," after very calm and warm weather, indicates rain with squally weather. =27. Causes which may bring about a Fall or a Rise in the Barometer.=[3]--As heat produces rarefaction, a sudden rise of temperature in a distant quarter may affect the weight of the atmosphere over our heads, by producing an aerial current outwards, to supply the place of the lighter air which has moved from its former position; in which case the barometer will fall. Now such a movement in the atmosphere is likely to bring about an intermixture of currents of air of different temperatures, and from this intermixture rain is likely to result. On the other hand, as cold produces condensation, any sudden fall of temperature causes the column of air over the locality to contract and sink to a lower level, whilst other air rushes in from above to supply the void; and, accordingly, the barometer rises. Should this air, as often happens, proceed from the north, it will contain in general but little moisture; and hence, on reaching a warmer latitude, will take up the vapour of the air, so that dry weather will result. It is generally observed, that wind causes a fall in the instrument; and, indeed, in those greater movements of the atmosphere which we denominate storms or hurricanes, the depression is so considerable as to forewarn the navigator of his impending danger. It is evident, that a draught of air in any direction must diminish the weight of the column overhead, and consequently cause the mercury in the barometer to sink. The connection, therefore, of a sinking of the barometric column with rain is frequently owing to the wind causing an intermixture of the aerial currents which, by their motion, diminish the weight of the atmosphere over our heads; whilst a steady rise in the column indicates the absence of any great atmospheric changes in the neighbourhood, and a general exemption from those causes which are apt to bring about a precipitation of vapour. =28. Use of the Barometer in the management of Mines.=--The inflammable and suffocating gases, known to coal-miners as fire-damp and choke-damp, are specifically heavier than air; and as they issue from the fissures of the mine, or are released from the coal, the atmospheric pressure tends to drive them into the lowest and least ventilated galleries. Consequently a greatly reduced atmospheric pressure will favour a sudden outflow or advance of gas; whence may result cases of explosion or suffocation. It has been found that these accidents occur for the most part about the time of a low barometric column. A reliable barometer should, therefore, be systematically consulted by those entrusted with the management or control of coal-mines, so that greater vigilance and caution may be enjoined on the miners whenever the mercury falls low, especially after it has been unusually high for some days. =29. Use of the Barometer in estimating the Height of Tides.=--The pressure of the atmosphere affects the height of the tide, the water being in general higher as the barometer is lower. The expressions of seamen, that "frost nips the tide," and "fog nips the tide," are explained by the high barometer which usually accompanies frost and fog. M. Daussy, Sir J. C. Ross, and others, have established that a rise of one inch in the barometer will have a corresponding fall in the tide of about one foot. Therefore navigators and pilots will appreciate the following suggestion of Admiral FitzRoy:-- "Vessels sometimes enter docks, or even harbours, where they have scarcely a foot of water more than their draught; and as docking, as well as launching large ships, requires a close calculation of height of water, the state of the barometer becomes of additional importance on such occasions." CHAPTER II. SYPHON TUBE BAROMETERS. =30. Principle of.=--If some mercury, or any other fluid, be poured into a tube of glass, bent in the form of =U=, and open at both ends, it will rise to the same height in both limbs, the tube being held vertically. If mercury be poured in first, and then water upon it at one end, these liquids will not come to the same level; the water will stand much higher than the mercury. If the height of the mercury, above the line of meeting of the fluids, be one inch, that of the water will be about thirteen-and-a-half inches. The explanation of this is, that the two columns balance each other. The pressure of the atmosphere in each limb is precisely similar; but the one column stands so much higher than the other, because the fluid of which it is composed is so much lighter, bulk for bulk, than the other. If one end of the tube be hermetically closed, the other limb be cut off within a few inches of the bend, and the tube carefully filled with mercury; by placing it in a vertical position, the mercury will fall, if the closed limb be long enough, until it is about thirty inches higher than that in the exposed limb, where it will remain. Here the atmosphere presses upon the short column; but not upon the long one. It is this pressure, therefore, which maintains the difference of level. In fact, it forms a barometer without a cistern, the short limb answering the purpose of a cistern. The first barometers on this principle were devised by the celebrated philosopher, Dr. Hook, as described in the next section. 31. DIAL, OR WHEEL BAROMETERS. The familiar household "Weather Glasses" are barometers on the syphon principle. The portions of the two limbs through which the mercury will rise and fall with the varying pressure of the atmosphere are made of precisely the same diameter; while the part between them is contracted. On the mercury, in the exposed limb, rests a round float of ivory or glass; to this a string is attached and passed over and around a brass pulley, the other end carrying another lighter weight. The weight resting on the mercury rises and falls with it. On the spindle of the pulley, which passes through the frame and centre of the dial-plate, is fixed a light steel hand, which revolves as the pulley turns round. When the mercury falls for a decrease of atmospheric pressure, it rises by the same quantity in the short tube, and pushes up the float, the counterpoise falls, and thus moves the hand or pointer to the left. When the pressure increases, the pointer is drawn in a similar manner to the right. [Illustration: Fig. 18.] [Illustration: Fig. 19.] [Illustration: Fig. 20.] The dials are generally made of metal silvered over or enamelled, but porcelain may be used. If the circumference of the pulley, or "wheel," be two inches, it will revolve once for an alteration of level amounting to two inches in each tube, or four inches in the height of the barometric column; and as the dial may be from twenty to thirty-six inches in circumference, five to nine inches on the graduated scale corresponds to one inch of the column; and hence the sub-divisions are distinctly perceptible, and a vernier is not necessary. The motion of the pointer alone is visible; and a mahogany, or rosewood, frame, supports, covers, and renders the instrument ornamental and portable. In the back of the frame is a hinged door, which covers the cavity containing the tube and fixtures. The dial is covered by a glass in a brass rim, similar to a clock face. A brass index, working over the dial, moveable by a key or button, may be applied, and will serve to register the position of the hand when last observed. These instruments are usually fitted with a thermometer, and a spirit level; the latter for the purpose of getting the instrument perfectly vertical. They sometimes have, in addition, a hygrometer, a sympiesometer, an aneroid, a mirror, or a clock, &c., singly or combined. The frame admits of much variety of style and decoration. It may be carved or inlaid. The usual adjustment of scale is suited for localities at no considerable elevation above the sea. Accordingly, being commercial articles, they have been found frequently quite out of place. When intended for use at high elevations, they should have a special adjustment of scale. As household instruments they are serviceable, and ornamental. But the supply-and-demand principle upon which they are sold, has entailed upon those issued by inferior makers a generally bad adjustment of scale. The illustrations are those of ordinary designs. [Illustration: Fig. 21.] [Illustration: Fig. 22.] [Illustration: Fig. 23.] Dial barometers required for transmission to distant parts, as India and the Colonies, are furnished with a steel stop-cock, to render them portable more effectually than can be done by the method of _plugging_ the tube. 32. STANDARD SYPHON BAROMETER. Fig. 24 represents the most accurate form of the Gay Lussac barometer. The short limb is closed at the top, after the mercury is introduced, and a small lateral puncture is made at _a_, which is covered over with a substance which permits the access of air, but prevents the escape of any mercury when the instrument is packed for travelling. The bent part of the tube is contracted to a capillary bore; and just above this, in the long limb, is placed the air-trap, already described (see p. 17), and here illustrated (fig. 25). When reversed, as it must be for portability, the capillary attraction keeps the mercury in the long branch. Should the mercury of the short column get detached, some small quantity of air _may_ pass; but it will be arrested at the pipette, and will not vitiate the length of the barometric column. It can be easily expelled by gently shaking or tapping the instrument before suspending it for observation. In the illustration, the zero of the scale is placed at Z, near the middle of the tube; and the graduations extend above and below. In making an observation, it is necessary to take the reading ZA on the long branch, and ZB on the short one. The sum of the two gives the height of the barometer. The zero of the scale in some instruments is placed low down, so as to require the difference of the two readings to be taken. A thermometer is attached to the frame as usual. [Illustration: Fig. 24.] [Illustration: Fig. 25.] These instruments can be very accurately graduated, and are very exact in their indications, provided great care has been exercised in selecting the tubes, which must be of the same calibre throughout the parts destined to measure the variations of atmospheric pressure. They should be suspended so as to insure their hanging vertically. The syphon barometer does not require correction for capillarity nor for capacity, as each surface of the mercury is equally depressed by capillary attraction, and the quantity of mercury which falls from the long limb of the tube occupies the same length in the short one. The barometric height must, however, be corrected for temperature, as in the cistern barometer. Tables containing the temperature corrections to be applied to barometer readings for scales engraved on the glass tube, or on brass or wood frames, are published. CHAPTER III. BAROGRAPHS, OR SELF-REGISTERING BAROMETERS. =33. Milne's Self-Registering Barometer.=--For a long time a good and accurate self-recording barometer was much desired. This want is now satisfactorily supplied, not by one, but by several descriptions of apparatus. The one first to be described was the design of Admiral Sir A. Milne, who himself constructed, in 1857, we believe, the original instrument, which he used with much success. Since that time several of these instruments have been made, and have performed satisfactorily. The barometer tube is a syphon of large calibre, provided with a Gay Lussac pipette, or air-trap; and fitted with a float, a wheel, and a pointer, as in the "Dial" barometer. The float is attached to a delicate watch-chain, which passes over the wheel and is adequately counterpoised. Behind the indicating extremity of the pointer or hand is a projecting point, which faces the frame of the instrument, and is just within contact with the registering paper. A clock is applied, and fitted with auxiliary mechanism, so as to be able to move the mounted paper with regularity behind the pointer, and at designed equal intervals of time to release a system of levers and springs, so as to cause the marker to impress a dot on the paper, either by puncture or pencil-mark. The paper is ruled with horizontal lines for the range of the mercurial column, and parallel arcs of circles for the hours. Thus the barometer is rendered self-recording, by night or day, for a week or more; hence the great value of the instrument. The clock, index, and registering mechanism are protected from dust and interference by a glass front, hinged on and locked. As the temperature of the mercury is not registered, there is fixed to the frame a Sixe's thermometer to record the maximum and minimum temperatures, which should be noted at least every twenty-four hours. Admiral FitzRoy has suggested the name "Atmoscope" for Admiral Milne's barometer; and he has also termed it a "Barograph." This latter word appears to be applicable to all kinds of self-registering barometers hitherto designed. Of the arrangement under consideration Admiral FitzRoy writes:--"It shows the alterations in tension, or the pulsations, so to speak, of atmosphere, on a large scale, by hourly marks; and the diagram expresses, to a practised observer, what the 'indicator card' of a steam-cylinder shows to a skilful engineer, or a stethescope to a physician." [Illustration: Fig. 26.] =34. Modification of Milne's Barometer.=--The great difficulty to be overcome in Milne's barometer, is to adjust the mechanism for obtaining registration so that the action of the striker upon the pointer should not in the slightest degree move it from its true position. A different mode of registration, capable of recording accurately the least appreciable movement of the mercurial column, has been effected. In this instrument the registering paper is carried upon a cylinder or drum. By reference to the illustration, Fig. 26, the details of construction will be readily understood. It should, however, be mentioned, that it is not a picture of the outward appearance of the instrument. The position of the barometer should be behind the clock; it is represented on one side merely for the purpose of clearly illustrating the arrangement and principles. The instrument has a large syphon barometer tube, in which the mercurial column is represented. On the mercury at _A_, in its open end, rests a glass float, attached to a watch-chain, or suitable silken cord, the other end of which is connected to the top of the arched head on the short arm of a lever-beam. The long arm of the beam is twice the length of the short arm, for the following reason. As the mercury falls in the long limb, it rises through an equal space in the short limb of the tube, and _vice versa_. But the barometric column is the difference of height of the mercury in the two limbs; hence the rise or fall of the float through half-an-inch will correspond to a decrease or an increase of the barometric column of one inch. In order, then, to record the movements of the barometric column, and not those of the float, the arm of the beam connected with the float is only half the radius of the other arm. Both arms of the beam carry circular-arched heads, which are similar portions of the complete circles, the centre of curvature being the fulcrum, or axis. This contrivance maintains the leverage on each extremity of the beam always at the same distance from the fulcrum. From the top of the large arched head a piece of watch-chain descends, and is attached to the marker, _B_, which properly counterpoises the float, _A_, and is capable of easy movement along a groove in a brass bar, so as to indicate the barometric height on an ivory scale, _C_, fixed on the same vertical framing. On the opposite side of the marker, _B_, is formed a metallic point, which faces the registration sheet and is nearly in contact with it. The framing, which carries the scale and marker, is an arrangement of brass bars, delicately adjusted and controlled by springs, so as to permit of a quick horizontal motion, in a small arc, being communicated to it by the action of the hammer, _E_, of the clock, whereby the point of the marker is caused to impress a dot upon the paper. The same clock gives rotation to the hollow wooden cylinder, _D_, upon which is mounted the registering paper. The clock must be rewound when a fresh paper is attached to the cylinder, which may be daily, weekly, or monthly, according to construction; and the series of dots impressed upon the paper shows the height of the barometric column every hour by day and night. The space traversed by the marker is precisely equal to the range of the barometric column. =35. King's Self-Registering Barometer.=--Mr. Alfred King, Engineer of the Liverpool Gas-light Company, designed, so long ago as 1854, a barometer to register, by a continuous pencil-tracing, the variations in the weight of the atmosphere; and a highly-satisfactory self-recording barometer, on his principle and constructed under his immediate superintendence, has quite recently been erected at the Liverpool Observatory. [Illustration: Fig. 27.] Fig. 27 is the front elevation of this instrument. _A_, the barometer tube, is three inches in internal diameter, and it floats freely (not being fixed as usual) in the fixed cistern, _B_, guided by friction-wheels, _W_. The top end of the tube is fastened to a peculiar chain, which passes over a grooved wheel turning on finely-adjusted friction rollers. The other end of the chain supports the frame, _D_, which carries the tracing pencil. The frame is suitably weighted and guided, and faces the cylinder, _C_, around which the tracing paper is wrapped, and which rotates once in twenty-four hours by the movement of a clock. Mr. Hartnup, Director of the Liverpool Observatory, in his Annual Report, 1868, says:--"For one inch change in the mercurial column the pencil is moved through five inches, so that the horizontal lines on the tracing, which are half an inch apart, represent one-tenth of an inch change in the barometer. The vertical lines are hour lines, and being nearly three-quarters of an inch apart, it will be seen that the smallest appreciable change in the barometer, and the time of its occurrence, are recorded." "It has been remarked by persons in the habit of reading barometers with large tubes, that, in squally weather, sudden and frequent oscillations of the mercurial column are sometimes seen. Now, to register these small oscillations must be a very delicate test of the sensitiveness of a self-registering barometer, as the time occupied by the rise and fall of the mercury in the tube in some cases does not exceed one minute." Mr. Hartnup affirms that the tracing of this instrument exhibits such oscillations whenever the wind blows strong and in squalls. As the barometer in this instrument is precisely similar to the "Long Range Barometer" invented by Mr. McNeild (and which will be found described at page 48), it may be desirable to quote the following, from Mr. Hartnup's Report:--"Mr. King constructed a small model instrument to illustrate the principle. This instrument was entrusted to my care for examination, and it was exhibited to the scientific gentlemen who visited the Observatory in 1854, during the meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science." =36. Syphon, with Photographic Registration.=--A continuous self-registering barometer has been constructed, in which photography is employed. Those who may wish to adopt a similar apparatus, or thoroughly to understand the arrangements and mode of observation, should consult the detailed description given in the _Greenwich Magnetical and Meteorological Observations_, 1847. As the principles are applicable to photographic registration of magnetic and electric as well as meteorologic variations in instrumental indications, it would be beside our purpose to describe fully the apparatus. The barometer is a large syphon tube; the bore of the upper and lower extremities, through which the surfaces of the mercury rise and fall, is 1-1/10 inch in diameter. The glass float in the open limb is attached to a wire, which moves a delicately-supported light lever as it alters its elevation. The fulcrum of the lever is on one side of the wire; the extremity on the other side, at four times this distance from the fulcrum, carries a vertical plate of opaque mica, having a small aperture. Through this hole the light of a gas-jet shines upon photographic paper wrapped round a cylinder placed vertically, and moved round its axis by a clock fixed with its face horizontal. The cylinder is delicately supported, and revolves in friction rollers. A bent wire on the axis is embraced by a prong on the hour hand of the time-piece; therefore the cylinder is carried round once in twelve hours. It might be arranged for a different period of rotation. As the cylinder rotates, the paper receives the action of the light, and a photographic trace is left of the movements of the barometer four times the extent of the oscillations of the float, or twice the length of the variations in the barometric column. Certain chemical processes are required in the preparation of the paper, and in developing the trace. The diagram which we give on the next page, with the explanation, taken from Drew's _Practical Meteorology_, will enable the above description to be better understood: [Illustration: Fig. 28.] "_Q e_ is a lever whose fulcrum is _e_, the counterpoise _f_ nearly supporting it; _s_ is an opaque plate of mica, with a small aperture at _p_, through which the light passes, having before been refracted by a cylindrical lens into a long ray, the portion only of which opposite the aperture _p_ impinges on the paper; _d_ is a wire supported by a float on the surface of the mercury; _G H_ is the barometer; _p_, the vertical cylinder charged with photographic paper; _r_, the photographic trace; _I_, the timepiece, carrying round the cylinder by the projecting arm _t_. It is evident that the respective distances of the float and the aperture _p_ from the fulcrum may be regulated so that the rise and fall of the float may be multiplied to any extent required." When _only_ the lower surface of the mercury in a syphon barometer is read, as in the instrument just described, a correction for temperature is strictly due to the height of the quicksilver in the _short_ tube; but this in so short a column will rarely be sensible. CHAPTER IV. MOUNTAIN BAROMETERS. =37. The Syphon Tube Mountain Barometer, on Gay Lussac's principle=, constructed as described at page 31, and fixed in a metallic tubular frame, forms a simple and light travelling instrument. The graduations are made upon the frame, and it is suspended for reading by a ring at the top, from beneath an iron tripod stand, which is usually supplied with it. Considerable care is requisite in adjusting the verniers, so as to keep the instrument steady and vertical. A drawback to the convenience of this barometer is the movement of the mercury in the short limb, which is generally not confined, and hence has every facility for becoming quickly oxidised in travelling. To remedy this, Messrs. Negretti and Zambra so construct the Mountain Syphon Barometer that by a simple half turn of a screw the mercury can be confined for portability, while the lower limb can be taken out for cleaning whenever found requisite. =38. Mountain Barometer on Fortin's principle.=--This barometer, with Fortin's cistern, as arranged by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra, is an elegant, manageable, and very accurate instrument for travelling purposes, and well adapted for careful measurement of heights. The cistern is made large enough to receive all the mercury that will fall from the tube at the highest attainable elevation. The screw at the bottom confines the mercury securely for carriage, and serves to adjust the surface of the mercury to the zero of the scale when making an observation. The vernier reads to ·002 of an inch, and slides easily on the brass frame, which is made as small in diameter as is compatible with the size of the tube. The tube in this barometer should be altogether without contractions, so that the mercury will readily fall when it is set up for observation. It must be carefully calibrated, and its internal diameter ascertained, in order that correction may be made for capillarity. This correction, however, should be combined with the error of graduation, and form a permanent index error, ascertainable at any time by comparison with an acknowledged standard barometer. The barometer is supported in the tripod stand (furnished as part of the instrument) when used for observation. It is suspended by placing two studs, in the ring on the frame, in slots formed on the top of the stand, so that it hangs freely and vertically in gimbals. To the metal top of the stand, mahogany legs are hinged. To make the barometer portable, it must be lifted out of the stand, sloped gently until the mercury reaches the top, turning the screw at the bottom meanwhile; then invert and screw until the mercury is made tight. The inverted instrument packs in the stand, the legs being formed to fit round the frame; and receptacles are scooped out for the cistern, thermometer, gimbals, and vernier; so that the instrument is firmly surrounded by the wooden legs, which are held fast together by brass rings passed over them. [Illustration: Fig. 29.] =39. Newman's Mountain Barometer.=--Fig. 29 is an illustration of the mountain barometer known as Newman's. The cistern consists of two separate compartments;--the top of the lower and the bottom of the upper, being perfectly flat, are pivoted closely together at the centres, so that the lower can move through a small arc, when turned by the hand. This movement is limited by two stops. The top of the lower compartment and the bottom of the upper have each a circular hole, through which the mercury communicates. When the instrument is required for observation, the cistern is turned close up to the stop marked "_open_" or "_not portable_." When it is necessary to pack it for travelling, the mercurial column must be allowed to fill the tube by sloping the barometer gently; then invert it, and move the cistern to the stop marked "_shut_" or "_portable_." In this condition, the upper compartment is completely filled with mercury, and consequently that in the tube cannot move about, so as to admit air or endanger the tube. Nor can the mercury pass back to the lower compartment, as the holes are not now coincident, and the contact is made too perfect to allow the mercury to creep between the surfaces. The tube does not enter the lower compartment, which is completely full of mercury when the instrument is arranged for observation. The spare capacity of the upper cistern is sufficient to receive the mercury which descends from the tube to the limit of the engraved scale, which in these barometers generally extends only to about 20 inches. A lower limit could of course be given by increasing the size of the cisterns, which it is not advisable to do unless for a special purpose. This barometer may be had mounted in wood, or in brass frame. If in wood, it has a brass shield, which slides round the scale part of the frame, so as to be easily brought in front of the tube and scale as a protection in travelling; the vernier screw, in this case, being placed at the top of the instrument. When the scale is graduated with true inches, the neutral point, the capacity and capillarity corrections should be marked on the frame. The graduated scales, however, placed on these barometers in brass frames, are usually artificial inches, like the Kew plan of graduation; the advantage being that one simple correction only is required, viz. one for index error and capillarity combined, which can always be readily determined by comparison with a standard barometer; moreover, as no adjustment of cistern is required in reading, the instrument can be verified by artificial pressure throughout the scale, by the plan practised at Kew, Liverpool, &c., and already described (see p. 18). 40. NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA'S PATENT MOUNTAIN AND OTHER BAROMETERS. This invention is intended to make mountain and other barometers of standard accuracy stronger, more portable, and less liable to derangement, when being carried about, than heretofore, by dispensing with the ordinary flexible cistern containing the mercury at the bottom of the instrument, and adapting in lieu thereof a rigid cistern constructed of glass and iron. The cistern is composed of a glass cylinder, which is secured in a metallic tube or frame. In order to render the cistern mercury-tight at top and bottom, metal caps are screwed into the tube or frame, and bear against leather washers placed between them and the edges of the glass cylinder. The upper cap of the cistern is tapped with a fine threaded screw to receive the iron plug or socket, into which the barometer tube is securely fixed. The whole length of this plug has a fine screw cut upon it by which the cistern can be screwed up or down. At the side of this plug or socket, extending from the lower end to within half an inch of the top, is cut a groove for admitting the air to the surface of the mercury within the cistern when the barometer is in use. An ivory point is screwed into the under surface of the plug, carrying the barometer tube. This ivory point is very carefully adjusted by measurement to be the zero point of the instrument, from which the barometer scale of inches is divided. The surface of the mercury in the cistern is adjusted to the zero point by screwing the cistern up or down until the ivory point and its reflected image are in contact. [Illustration: Fig. 30.] The instrument (fig. 30) is shown in a state of adjustment, ready to take an observation; but _when it is desired to render it portable, it must be inclined, until mercury from the cistern fills the tube; the cistern must then be screwed up on the socket_, so as to bring the face of the upper cap against the under side of the shoulder of the cover immediately above it; the instrument may then be carried without being liable to derangement. _Precautions necessary in using the Mountain Barometer._--On removing the barometer from its case after a journey, allow it to remain with its scale end downward, whilst the cistern is unscrewed to the extent of _one turn of the screw_, after which slightly shake the cistern; the mercury in it will then completely fill the end of the barometer tube, should any portion of it have escaped therefrom. The barometer is then inverted, and if it be desired to make an observation, suspend it vertically from its stand by the ring at top. The cistern must then be unscrewed, until the surface of the mercury is brought just level with the extreme end of the ivory or zero point fixed to the iron plug on which the glass cistern moves up and down. Should the elevation of the place where the barometer is to be used be considerably above the sea level, it will be well--after suspending it from the stand--to unscrew the cistern several turns, _holding the barometer in an oblique position_, as at great heights the mercury will fall considerably quicker than the cistern can be unscrewed, thereby filling it to overflowing; but by partly unscrewing the cistern first, room is given for the reception of a fall of mercury to the extent of several inches. The cistern must not be unscrewed when the _Instrument is_ INVERTED _more than_ two turns of the screw, otherwise the mercury will flow out through the groove. It is found safer when travelling to carry the barometer in a horizontal position, or with its cistern end uppermost. _To clean the Barometer._--Should at any time the mercury in the cistern become oxidised, and reading from its surface be difficult, it can be readily cleaned by removing the cistern and its contained mercury from the barometer frame by unscrewing it _when in a horizontal position_; this precaution is necessary that the mercury in the tube may not escape, and thereby allow air to enter. The cistern must then be emptied, and with a dry clean leather, or silk handkerchief, well cleaned. The operation of cleaning being performed, return the cistern to the frame, and screw it until the face is brought up against the under side of the shoulder, still keeping the instrument _horizontal_. The cistern is now ready for re-filling, to do which stand the barometer on end _head downwards_, and remove the small screw at bottom; through the aperture thus opened, pour in mercury, passing it through a paper funnel with a very small aperture. It is well to pass the mercury through a very small funnel two or three times before returning it to the barometer cistern, as by this process all particles of dust or oxide adhere to the paper, and are effectually removed. Should any small quantity of the mercury be lost during the operation of cleaning, it is of no importance so long as sufficient remains to allow of adjustment to the zero point. This latter constitutes one of the great advantages of this new instrument over the ordinary barometer; for, in the majority of cases, after an instrument has been compared carefully with a standard, should mercury be lost, there is no means of correcting the error unless a standard barometer be at hand; the new barometer is, in this respect, independent, a little mercury more or less being unimportant. =41. Short Tube Barometer.=--This is simply a tube shorter, as may be required, than that necessary to show the atmospheric pressure at the sea level. It is convenient for balloon purposes, and for use at mountain stations, being of course a special construction. =42. Method of Calculating Heights by the Barometer.=--The pressure of the atmosphere being measured by the barometer, it is evident that as the instrument is carried up a high mountain or elevated in a balloon, the length of the column must decrease as the atmospheric pressure decreases, in consequence of a stratum of air being left below. The pressure of air arises from its weight, or the attraction of gravitation upon it, and therefore the quantity of air below the barometer cistern cannot influence the height of the column. Hence it follows that a certain relation must exist between the difference of the barometric pressure at the foot and at the top of a hill or other elevation, and the difference of the absolute heights above the sea. Theoretical investigation, abundantly confirmed by practical results, has determined that the strata of air decrease in density in a geometrical proportion, while the elevations increase in an arithmetical one. Hence we have a method of determining differences of level, by observations made on the density of the air by means of the barometer. It is beyond our purpose to explain in detail the principles upon which this method is founded, or to give its mathematical investigation. We append Tables, which will be useful to practical persons,--surveyors, engineers, travellers, tourists, &c.,--who may carry a barometer as a travelling companion. Table I. is calculated from the formula, height in feet = 60,200 (log. 29·922 - log. B) + 925; where 29·922 is the mean atmospheric pressure at 32° F., and the mean sea-level in latitude 45°; and B is any other barometric pressure; the 925 being added to avoid minus signs in the Table. Table II. contains the correction necessary for the mean temperature of the stratum of air between the stations of observation; and is computed from Regnault's co-efficient for the expansion of air, which is ·002036 of its volume at 32° for each degree above that temperature. Table III. is the correction due to the difference of gravitation in any other latitude, and is found from the formula, _x_ = 1 + ·00265 cos. 2 lat. Table IV. is to correct for the diminution of gravity in ascending from the sea-level. To use these Tables: The barometer readings at the upper and lower stations having been corrected and reduced to temperature 32° F., take out from Table I. the numbers opposite the corrected readings, and subtract the lower from the upper. Multiply this difference successively by the factors found in Tables II. and III. The factor from Table III. may be neglected unless precision is desired. Finally, add the correction taken from Table IV. TABLE I. _Approximate Height due to Barometric Pressure._ +----------------------------------------------+ |Inches.| Feet.||Inches.| Feet.||Inches.| Feet.| |-------+------++-------+------++-------+------| | 31·0 | 0 || 28·2 | 2475 || 25·4 | 5209 | | 30·9 | 84 || ·1 | 2568 || ·3 | 5312 | | ·8 | 169 || 28·0 | 2661 || ·2 | 5415 | | ·7 | 254 || 27·9 | 2754 || ·1 | 5519 | | ·6 | 339 || ·8 | 2848 || 25·0 | 5623 | | ·5 | 425 || ·7 | 2942 || 24·9 | 5728 | | ·4 | 511 || ·6 | 3037 || ·8 | 5833 | | ·3 | 597 || ·5 | 3132 || ·7 | 5939 | | ·2 | 683 || ·4 | 3227 || ·6 | 6045 | | ·1 | 770 || ·3 | 3323 || ·5 | 6152 | | 30·0 | 857 || ·2 | 3419 || ·4 | 6259 | | 29·9 | 944 || ·1 | 3515 || ·3 | 6366 | | ·8 | 1032 || 27·0 | 3612 || ·2 | 6474 | | ·7 | 1120 || 26·9 | 3709 || ·1 | 6582 | | ·6 | 1208 || ·8 | 3806 || 24·0 | 6691 | | ·5 | 1296 || ·7 | 3904 || 23·9 | 6800 | | ·4 | 1385 || ·6 | 4002 || ·8 | 6910 | | ·3 | 1474 || ·5 | 4100 || ·7 | 7020 | | ·2 | 1563 || ·4 | 4199 || ·6 | 7131 | | ·1 | 1653 || ·3 | 4298 || ·5 | 7242 | | 29·0 | 1743 || ·2 | 4398 || ·4 | 7353 | | 28·9 | 1833 || ·1 | 4498 || ·3 | 7465 | | ·8 | 1924 || 26·0 | 4598 || ·2 | 7577 | | ·7 | 2015 || 25·9 | 4699 || ·1 | 7690 | | ·6 | 2106 || ·8 | 4800 || 23·0 | 7803 | | ·5 | 2198 || ·7 | 4902 || 22·9 | 7917 | | ·4 | 2290 || ·6 | 5004 || ·8 | 8032 | | ·3 | 2382 || ·5 | 5106 || ·7 | 8147 | +----------------------------------------------+ TABLE I.--_continued_. _Approximate Height due to Barometric Pressure._ +-------------------------------------------------+ |Inches.| Feet. ||Inches.| Feet. ||Inches.| Feet. | |-------+-------++-------+-------++-------+-------| | 22·6 | 8262 || 18·9 | 12937 || 15·2 | 18632 | | ·5 | 8378 || ·8 | 13076 || ·1 | 18805 | | ·4 | 8495 || ·7 | 13215 || 15·0 | 18979 | | ·3 | 8612 || ·6 | 13355 || 14·9 | 19154 | | ·2 | 8729 || ·5 | 13496 || ·8 | 19330 | | ·1 | 8847 || ·4 | 13638 || ·7 | 19507 | | 22·0 | 8966 || ·3 | 13780 || ·6 | 19685 | | 21·9 | 9085 || ·2 | 13923 || ·5 | 19865 | | ·8 | 9205 || ·1 | 14067 || ·4 | 20046 | | ·7 | 9325 || 18·0 | 14212 || ·3 | 20228 | | ·6 | 9446 || 17·9 | 14358 || ·2 | 20412 | | ·5 | 9567 || ·8 | 14505 || ·1 | 20597 | | ·4 | 9689 || ·7 | 14652 || 14·0 | 20783 | | ·3 | 9811 || ·6 | 14800 || 13·9 | 20970 | | ·2 | 9934 || ·5 | 14949 || ·8 | 21159 | | ·1 | 10058 || ·4 | 15099 || ·7 | 21349 | | 21·0 | 10182 || ·3 | 15250 || ·6 | 21541 | | 20·9 | 10307 || ·2 | 15402 || ·5 | 21734 | | ·8 | 10432 || ·1 | 15554 || ·4 | 21928 | | ·7 | 10558 || 17·0 | 15707 || ·3 | 22124 | | ·6 | 10684 || 16·9 | 15861 || ·2 | 22321 | | ·5 | 10812 || ·8 | 16016 || ·1 | 22520 | | ·4 | 10940 || ·7 | 16172 || 13·0 | 22720 | | ·3 | 11069 || ·6 | 16329 || 12·9 | 22922 | | ·2 | 11198 || ·5 | 16487 || ·8 | 23126 | | ·1 | 11328 || ·4 | 16646 || ·7 | 23331 | | 20·0 | 11458 || ·3 | 16806 || ·6 | 23538 | | 19·9 | 11589 || ·2 | 16967 || ·5 | 23746 | | ·8 | 11721 || ·1 | 17129 || ·4 | 23956 | | ·7 | 11853 || 16·0 | 17292 || ·3 | 24168 | | ·6 | 11986 || 15·9 | 17456 || ·2 | 24381 | | ·5 | 12120 || ·8 | 17621 || ·1 | 24596 | | ·4 | 12254 || ·7 | 17787 || 12·0 | 24813 | | ·3 | 12389 || ·6 | 17954 || 11·9 | 25032 | | ·2 | 12525 || ·5 | 18122 || ·8 | 25253 | | ·1 | 12662 || ·4 | 18291 || ·7 | 25476 | | 19·0 | 12799 || ·3 | 18461 || ·6 | 25700 | +-------------------------------------------------+ TABLE II. _Correction due to Mean Temperature of the Air._ +-------------------------------------------+ |Mean |Factor.||Mean |Factor.||Mean |Factor.| |Temp.| ||Temp.| ||Temp.| | |-----+-------++-----+-------++-----+-------| | 10° | 0·955 || 35° | 1·006 || 60° | 1·057 | | 11 | ·957 || 36 | 1·008 || 61 | 1·059 | | 12 | ·959 || 37 | 1·010 || 62 | 1·061 | | 13 | ·961 || 38 | 1·012 || 63 | 1·063 | | 14 | ·963 || 39 | 1·014 || 64 | 1·065 | | 15 | ·965 || 40 | 1·016 || 65 | 1·067 | | 16 | ·967 || 41 | 1·018 || 66 | 1·069 | | 17 | ·969 || 42 | 1·020 || 67 | 1·071 | | 18 | ·971 || 43 | 1·022 || 68 | 1·073 | | 19 | ·974 || 44 | 1·024 || 69 | 1·075 | | 20 | ·976 || 45 | 1·026 || 70 | 1·077 | | 21 | ·978 || 46 | 1·029 || 71 | 1·079 | | 22 | ·980 || 47 | 1·031 || 72 | 1·081 | | 23 | ·982 || 48 | 1·033 || 73 | 1·083 | | 24 | ·984 || 49 | 1·035 || 74 | 1·086 | | 25 | ·986 || 50 | 1·037 || 75 | 1·088 | | 26 | ·988 || 51 | 1·039 || 76 | 1·090 | | 27 | ·990 || 52 | 1·041 || 77 | 1·092 | | 28 | ·992 || 53 | 1·043 || 78 | 1·094 | | 29 | ·994 || 54 | 1·045 || 79 | 1·096 | | 30 | ·996 || 55 | 1·047 || 80 | 1·098 | | 31 | 0·998 || 56 | 1·049 || 81 | 1·100 | | 32 | 1·000 || 57 | 1·051 || 82 | 1·102 | | 33 | 1·002 || 58 | 1·053 || 83 | 1·104 | | 34 | 1·004 || 59 | 1·055 || 84 | 1·106 | +-------------------------------------------+ TABLE III. +-------------------------------------------------------+ |Latitude.|Factor.||Latitude.|Factor.||Latitude.|Factor.| |---------+-------++---------+-------++---------+-------| | 80° |0·99751|| 50 |0·99954|| 20 |1·00203| | 75 |0·99770|| 45 |1·00000|| 15 |1·00230| | 70 |0·99797|| 40 |1·00046|| 10 |1·00249| | 65 |0·99830|| 35 |1·00090|| 5 |1·00261| | 60 |0·99868|| 30 |1·00132|| 0 |1·00265| | 55 |0·99910|| 25 |1·00170|| | | +-------------------------------------------------------+ TABLE IV. +----------------------------------------------------+ | Height in |Correction|| Height in |Correction| |Thousand Feet.| Additive.||Thousand Feet.| Additive.| |--------------+----------++--------------+----------| | 1 | 3 || 14 | 44 | | 2 | 5 || 15 | 48 | | 3 | 8 || 16 | 52 | | 4 | 11 || 17 | 56 | | 5 | 14 || 18 | 60 | | 6 | 17 || 19 | 65 | | 7 | 20 || 20 | 69 | | 8 | 23 || 21 | 74 | | 9 | 26 || 22 | 78 | | 10 | 30 || 23 | 83 | | 11 | 33 || 24 | 88 | | 12 | 37 || 25 | 93 | | 13 | 41 || 26 | 98 | +----------------------------------------------------+ EXAMPLE 1. On October 21st, 1852, when Mr. Welsh ascended in a balloon, at 3h. 30m. p.m., the barometer, corrected and reduced, was 18·85, the air temperature 27°, while at Greenwich, 159 feet above the sea, the barometer at the same time was 29·97 inches, air temperature 49°, the balloon not being more than 5 miles S.W. from over Greenwich; required its elevation. Feet. Barometer in Balloon 18·85, Table I. = 13007 " at Greenwich 29·97 " 883 ----- 12124 Mean Temperature, 38°, Table II. Factor 1·012 ----- 12269· ----- Latitude 51-1/2°, Factor from Table III. ·99941 ----- 12262 Correction from Table IV. 38 ----- 12300 Elevation of Greenwich 159 ----- " Balloon 12459 feet. ===== The following examples, from the balloon ascents of J. Glashier, Esq., F.R.S., will serve for practice.[4] 2. Ascended from Wolverhampton, 18th August, 1862, at 2h. 38m. p.m.; barometer (in all cases corrected and reduced to 32° F) was 14·868, the temperature of the air 26°; at the same time, at Wrottesley Hall, 531 feet above the sea, in latitude 52-1/2° N, the barometer was 29·46, and the temperature of the air 65°·4; find the elevation of the balloon above the sea. Height, 18,959 feet. 3. From the same place an ascent was made 5th September, 1862, when at 1h. 48m. p.m. barometer was 11·954, air O°; at Wrottesley Hall 29·38, air 56°. Height, 23,923 feet. 4. From the Crystal Palace a balloon ascent was made 20th August, 1862. At 6h. 47m. p.m. barometer was 25·55, air 50°·5; and at the same time at Greenwich Observatory, at 159 feet above the sea, the barometer was 29·81, air 63°. Height, 4,406 feet. 5. From the same place an ascent was made 8th September, 1862. At 5 p.m., the balloon being over Blackheath, barometer was 25·60, and the air 49°·5, while at Greenwich, barometer was 29·92, air 66°·4. Height, 4,461 feet. CHAPTER V. SECONDARY BAROMETERS. =43. Desirability of Magnifying the Barometer Range.=--The limits within which the ordinary barometric column oscillates, do not exceed four inches for extreme range, while the ordinary range is confined to about two inches; hence it has often been felt that the public utility of the instrument would be greatly enhanced if by any means the scale indications could be increased in length. This object was sought to be obtained by bending the upper part of the tube from the vertical, so that the inches on the scale could be increased in length in proportion to the secant of the angle it made with the vertical. This was called "the diagonal barometer." The upper part of the tube has also been formed into a spiral, and the scale, placed along it, is thus greatly enlarged. But these methods of enlarging the indications cannot be so successfully accomplished, nor so cheaply nor so elegantly, as is done by the principle employed in the dial barometer. Hence they are not in use. [Illustration: Fig. 31.] =44. Howson's Long Range Barometer.=--Very recently quite a novel design has been patented by Mr. Howson, for a long range barometer. The construction requires neither distortion of the tube, nor mechanism for converting a short scale into a long one; but the mercury itself rises and falls, through an extended range, naturally, and in simple obedience to the varying pressure of the atmosphere. The tube is fixed, but its cistern is sustained by the mere pressure of the atmosphere. Looking at the instrument, it seems a perfect marvel. It appears as though the cistern with the mercury in it must fall to the ground. The bore of the tube is wide, about an inch across. A long glass rod is fixed to the bottom of the glass cistern, where a piece of cork or some elastic substance is also placed. The tube is filled with mercury; the glass rod is plunged into the tube as it is held top downwards, until the cork gets close up to the tube and fits tightly against it. The pressure against the cork simply prevents the mercury from coming out while the instrument is being inverted. When it is inverted, the mercury partly falls, and forms an ordinary barometric column. When the top is held, the cistern and glass rod, instead of falling away, remain perfectly suspended. There is no material support to the cistern; the tube only is fixed, the cistern hangs to it. Glass is many times lighter than mercury. When the glass rod is introduced, it displaces an equal volume of mercury. The glass rod, being so much lighter than mercury, floats and sustains the additional weight of the cistern by its buoyancy. In the mean time, the atmosphere is acting upon the mercury, keeping up the ordinary barometric column. Supposing there is a rise in the ordinary barometer, the atmosphere presses some more mercury up the tube. This mercury is taken out of the cistern, which of course becomes lighter, and therefore the rod and cistern float up a little higher, which thus causes the column of mercury to rise still more. The increased pressure and buoyancy thus acting together, increase the ascent in the barometric column, as shown by the fixed scale. One inch in the barometer might be represented by two or more inches in this instrument, according to construction. Supposing there was a decrease of pressure, the mercury would fall, come into the cistern, make it heavier, and increase the fall somewhat. Friction guides, at the top of the rod, prevent it coming into contact with the side of the tube when vertically suspended. The illustration, Fig. 31, shows the appearance of the instrument as framed in wood by the makers, Messrs. Negretti and Zambra. =45. McNeild's Long Range Barometer.=--A barometer designed by a gentleman named McNeild is on a directly opposite principle to the one just described. The tube is made to float on the mercury in the cistern. It is filled with mercury, inverted in the usual manner, then allowed to float, being held vertically by glass friction points or guides. By this contrivance, the ordinary range of the barometer is greatly increased. One inch rise or fall in the standard barometer may be represented by four or five inches in this instrument, so that it shows small variations in atmospheric pressure very distinctly. As the mercury falls in the tube with a decrease of pressure, the surface of the mercury in the cistern rises, and the floating tube rises also, which causes an additional descent in the column, as shown by fixed graduations on the tube. With an increase of pressure, some mercury will leave the cistern and rise in the tube, while the tube itself will fall, and so cause an additional ascent of mercury. This barometer is identical in principle with King's Barograph (see p. 34). The construction of Howson's and McNeild's Barometers has been assigned to Messrs. Negretti and Zambra. These instruments are usually made for domestic purposes with a scale of from three to five, and for public use from five to eight times the scale of the ordinary standard. Their sensitiveness is consequently increased in an equal proportion, and they have the additional advantage of not being affected by differences of level in the cistern. However, these novelties have not been sufficiently tried to determine their practical value for strictly scientific purposes; but as weather-glasses, for showing minute changes, they are superior to the common barometer. =46. The Water-glass Barometer.=--If a Florence flask, having a long neck, have a small quantity of water poured into it, and then be inverted and so supported that the open end dips into a vessel containing water, a small column of water will be confined in the neck of the bottle, the pressure of which, upon the surface of the exposed water, will be equal to the difference between the atmospheric pressure and the elasticity of the confined air in the body of the bottle. As the pressure of the atmosphere varies, this column will alter in height. But the elasticity of the confined air is also subject to variations, owing to changes of temperature. It follows, then, that the oscillations of the column are dependent on alterations of temperature and atmospheric pressure. Such an arrangement has been called "the Water-glass Barometer," and bears about the same relative value to the mercurial barometer, as an exponent of weather changes, that a cat-gut hygrometer bears to a thermometric hygrometer, as an indicator of relative moisture. 47. SYMPIESOMETER. Nevertheless the instrument now about to be described, depending upon similar principles, but scientifically constructed and graduated, is a very useful and valuable substitute for the mercurial barometer. It consists of a glass tube, varying, according to the purposes for which the instrument is required, from six to twenty-four inches in length. The upper end is closed, and formed into a bulb; the lower is turned up, formed into a cistern, and open at top, through a pipette, or cone. A plug, moveable by a catch from below, can be made to close this opening, so as to render the instrument portable. [Illustration: Fig. 32.] The upper portion of the tube is filled with air; the lower portion, and part of the cistern, with sulphuric acid, coloured so as to render it plainly visible. Formerly, hydrogen and oil were used. It was found, however, that, by the process known to chemists as _osmosis_, this light gas in time partially escaped, and the remainder became mixed with air, the consequence being that the graduations were no longer correct. They are more durable as at present constructed. The liquid rises and falls in the tube with the variations of atmospheric pressure and temperature acting together. If the pressure were constant, the confined air would expand and contract for temperature only, and the instrument would act as a thermometer. In fact, the instrument is regarded as such in the manufacture; and the thermometric scales are ascertained and engraved on the scale. A good mercurial thermometer is also mounted on the same frame. If, therefore, at any time the mercurial and the air thermometers do not read alike, it must evidently be due to the atmospheric pressure acting upon the air in the tube; and it is further evident that, under these circumstances, the position of the top of the liquid may be marked to represent the barometric pressure at the time. In this manner a scale of pressure is ascertained by comparison with a standard barometer, extending generally from 27 to 31 inches. When made correctly, these instruments agree well with the mercurial barometer for a number of years, and their subsequent adjustment is not a matter of much expense. For use at sea, the liquid column is contracted at the bend. The sympiesometer is very sensitive, and feels the alterations in the atmospheric pressure sooner than the ordinary marine barometer. The scale is usually on silvered brass, mounted on a mahogany or rosewood frame, protected in front by plate glass. It is generally furnished with a revolving register, to record the observation, in order that it may be known whether the pressure has increased or decreased in the interval of observation. Small pocket sympiesometers are sometimes fitted with ivory scales, and protected by a neat velvet-lined pasteboard or morocco case. _How to take an Observation._--In practice, the indications of the atmospheric pressure are obtained from the sympiesometer by noting, first, the temperature of the mercurial thermometer; secondly, adjusting the pointer of the pressure scale to the same degree of temperature on the scale of the air column; thirdly, reading the height of the liquid on the sliding scale. _Directions for Use._--The sympiesometer should be carried and handled so as to keep the top always upwards, to prevent the air mechanically mixing with the liquid. Care should also be taken to screen it from casual rays of the sun or cabin fire. 48. ANEROIDS. The beautiful and highly ingenious instrument called by the name _Aneroid_, is no less remarkable for the scientific principles of its construction and action, than for the nicety of its mechanism. It is a substitute, and perhaps the best of all substitutes, for the mercurial barometer. As its name implies, it is constructed "without fluid." It was invented by M. Vidi of Paris. In the general form in which it is made it consists of a brass cylindrical case about four inches in diameter and one and a half inch deep, faced with a dial graduated and marked similarly to the dial-plate of a "wheel-barometer," upon which the index or pointer shows the atmospheric pressure in inches and decimals of an inch in accordance with the mercurial barometer. Within the case, for ordinary sizes, is placed a flat metal box, generally not more than half an inch thick and about two inches or a little more in diameter, from which nearly all the air is exhausted. The top and bottom of this box is corrugated in concentric circles, so as to yield inwardly to external pressure, and return when the pressure is removed. The pressure of the atmosphere, acting externally, continually changes, while the elastic pressure of the small quantity of air within can only vary by its volume being increased or decreased, or by change of temperature. Leaving out of consideration, for the moment, the effect of temperature, we can readily perceive that as the pressure is lessened upon the outside of the box, the elastic force of the air within will force out the top and bottom of the box; and when the outer pressure is increased they will be forced in. Thus with the varying pressure of the atmosphere, the top and bottom of the box approach to and recede from each other by a small quantity; but the bottom being fixed, nearly all this motion takes place on the top. Thus the top of the box is like an elastic cushion, which rises and falls according as the compressing force lessens or increases. To the eye these expansions and contractions would not be perceptible, so small is the motion. But they are rendered very evident by a nice mechanical arrangement. To the box is attached a strong piece of iron, kept pressed upon it by a spring at one extremity; so that as the top of the box rises, the motion is made sensible at the point held by the spring, and when the top descends the spring draws the piece of iron into close contact with it. This piece of iron acts as a lever, having its fulcrum at one extremity, the power at the centre of the box-top, and the other extremity controlled by the spring. Thus it is evident that the small motion of the centre of the box-top is much increased at the spring extremity. The motion thus obtained is communicated to a system of levers; and, by the intervention of a piece of watch-chain and a fine spring passing round the arbour, turns the index to the right or left, according as the external pressure increases or decreases. Thus, when by increase of pressure the vacuum box is compressed, the mechanism transfers the movement to the index, and it moves to the right; when the vacuum box bulges out under diminished pressure, the mechanical motion is reversed, and the index moves to the left. As the index traverses the dial, it shows upon the scale the pressure corresponding with that which a good mercurial barometer would at the same time and place indicate; that is, supposing it correctly adjusted. A different and more elegant arrangement has since been adopted. A broad curved spring is connected to the top of the vacuum box, so as to be compressed by the top of the box yielding inward to increased pressure, and to relax itself and the box as the pressure is lessened. The system of levers is connected to this spring, which augments and transfers the motion to the index, in the manner already described. Increase of pressure causes the levers to slacken the piece of watch-chain connected with them and the arbour of the index. The spring now uncoils, winds the chain upon the arbour, and turns the index to the right. Decrease of pressure winds the chain off the barrel, tightens the spiral spring, which thus turns the index to the left. The graduations of the aneroid scale are obtained by comparisons with the correct standard reading of a mercurial barometer, under the normal and reduced atmospheric pressure. Reduced pressure is obtained by placing both instruments under the receiver of an air pump. [Illustration: Fig. 33.] Fig. 33 represents the latest improved mechanism of an aneroid. The outer case and the face of the instrument are removed, but the hand is attached by its collet to the arbour. _A_ is the corrugated box, which has been exhausted of air through the tube, _J_, and hermetically sealed by soldering. _B_ is a powerful curved spring, resting in gudgeons fixed on the frame-plate, and attached to a socket behind, _F_, in the top of the box. A lever, _C_, joined to the stout edge of the spring, is connected, by the bent lever at _D_, with the chain, _E_, the other end of which is coiled round, and fastened to the arbour, _F_. As the box, _A_, is compressed by the weight of the atmosphere increasing, the spring, _B_, is tightened, the lever, _C_, depressed, and the chain, _E_, uncoiled from _F_, which is thereby turned so that the hand, _H_, moves to the right. In the mean while the spiral spring, _G_, coiled round _F_, and fixed at one extremity to the frame-work and by the other to _F_, is compressed. When, therefore, the pressure decreases, _A_ and _B_ relax, by virtue of their elasticity; _E_ slackens, _G_ unwinds, turning _F_, which carries _H_ to the left. Near _J_ is shown an iron pillar, cast as part of the stock of the spring, _B_. A screw works in this pillar through the bottom of the plate, by means of which the spring, _B_, may be so adjusted to the box, _A_, as to set the hand, _H_, to read on the scale according to the indications of a mercurial barometer. The lever, _C_, is composed of brass and steel, soldered together, and adjusted by repeated trials to correct for the effects of temperature. A thermometer is sometimes attached to the aneroid, as it is convenient for indicating the temperature of the air. As regards the instrument itself, no correction for temperature can be applied with certainty. It should be set to read with the mercurial barometer at 32° F. Then the readings from it are supposed to require no correction. In considering the effects of temperature upon the aneroid, they are found to be somewhat complex. There is the effect of expansion and contraction of the various metals of which the mechanism is composed; and there is the effect on the elasticity of the small portion of air in the box. An increase of temperature produces greater, a diminution less elasticity in this air. The compensation for effects of temperature is adjusted by the process of "trial and error," and only a few makers do it well. It is very often a mere sham. Admiral FitzRoy writes, in his _Barometer Manual_, "The known expansion and contraction of metals under varying temperatures, caused doubts as to the accuracy of the aneroid under such changes; but they were partly removed by introducing into the vacuum box a small portion of gas, as a compensation for the effects of heat or cold. The gas in the box, changing its bulk on a change of temperature, was intended to compensate for the effect on the metals of which the aneroid is made. Besides which, a further and more reliable compensation has lately been effected by a combination of brass and steel bars." "Aneroid barometers, if often compared with good mercurial columns, are similar in their indications, and valuable; but it must be remembered that they are not independent instruments, that they are set originally by a barometer, require adjustment occasionally, and may deteriorate in time, though slowly." "The aneroid is quick in showing the variation of atmospheric pressure; and to the navigator who knows the difficulty, at times, of using barometers, this instrument is a great boon, for it can be placed anywhere, quite out of harm's way, and is not affected by the ship's motion, although faithfully giving indication of increased or diminished pressure of air. In ascending or descending elevations, the hand of the aneroid may be seen to move (like the hand of a watch), showing the height above the level of the sea, or the difference of level between places of comparison." In the admiral's _Notes on Meteorology_, he says, "The aneroid is an excellent _weather glass_, if well made. Compensation for heat or cold has lately been introduced by efficient mechanism. In its _improved_ condition, when the cost may be about £5, it is fit for measuring heights as far as 5,000 feet with approximate accuracy; but even at the price of £3, as a _weather-glass_ only, it is exceedingly valuable, because it can be carried anywhere; and if now and then compared with a good barometer, it may be relied on sufficiently. I have had one in constant use for ten years, and it appears to be as good now as at first. For a ship of war (considering concussion by the fire of guns), for boats, or to put in a drawer, or on a table, I believe there is nothing better than it for use as a common weather-glass." Colonel Sir H. James, R.E., in his _Instructions for taking Meteorological Observations_, says of the aneroid, "This is a most valuable instrument; it is extremely portable. I have had one in use for upwards of ten years, and find it to be the best form of barometer, as a "weather-glass," that has been made." One of the objects of Mr. Glaisher's experiments in balloons was "to compare the readings of an aneroid barometer with those of a mercurial barometer up to five miles." In the comparisons the readings of the mercurial barometer were corrected for index-error and temperature. The aneroid readings, says Mr. Glaisher, "prove all the observations made in the several ascents may be safely depended upon, and also that an aneroid barometer can be made to read correctly to pressures below twelve inches." As one of the general conclusions derived from his experiments he states, "that an aneroid barometer read correctly to the first place, and probably to the second place of decimals, to a pressure as low as seven inches." The two aneroids used by Mr. Glaisher were by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra. Aneroids are now manufactured almost perfectly compensated for temperature. Such an instrument therefore ought to show the same pressure in the external air at a temperature say of 40°, as it would in a room where the temperature at the same time may be 60°; provided there is no difference of elevation. To test it thoroughly would require an examination and a comparison with barometer readings reduced to 32° F., conducted through a long range of temperature and under artificially reduced pressure. A practical method appears to be to compare the aneroid daily, or more often, for a few weeks with the readings of a mercurial barometer reduced to 32°; and if the error so found be constant, the object of the compensation may be assumed to be attained, particularly if the temperature during the period has varied greatly. _Directions for using the Aneroid._--Aneroids are generally suspended with the dial vertical; but if they be placed with the dial horizontal, the indications differ a few hundredths of an inch in the two positions. Hence, if their indications are registered, they should be kept in the same position. The aneroid will not answer for exact scientific purposes, as it cannot be relied upon for a length of time. Its error of indication changes slowly, and hence the necessity of its being set from time to time with the reading of a good barometer. To allow of this being done, at the back of the outer case is the head of a screw in connection with the spring attached to the vacuum box. By applying a small turnscrew to this screw, the spring of the vacuum box may be tightened or relaxed, and the index made to move correspondingly to the right or left on the dial. By this means, besides being enabled to correct the aneroid at any time, "if the measure of a height rather greater than the aneroid will commonly show be required, it may be _re-set_ thus: When at the upper station (_within its range_), and having noted the reading carefully, touch the screw behind so as to bring back the hand a few inches (if the instrument will admit), then read off and start again. _Reverse the operation when descending._ This may add some inches of measure _approximately_."--_FitzRoy._ [Illustration: Fig. 34.] =49. Small Size Aneroids.=--The patent for the Aneroid having expired, Admiral FitzRoy urged upon Messrs. Negretti & Zambra the desirability of reducing the size at which it had hitherto been made, as well as of improving its mechanical arrangement, and compensation for temperature. They accordingly engaged skilful workmen, who, under their directions, and at their expense, by a great amount of labour and experiment, succeeded in reducing its dimensions to two inches in diameter, and an inch and a quarter thick. The exact size and appearance of this aneroid are shown in fig. 34. The compensation is carefully adjusted, and the graduations of the dial ascertained under reduced pressure, so that they are not quite equal, but more accurate. =50. Watch Aneroid.=--Subsequently the aneroid has been further reduced in size and it can now be had from an inch and a quarter to six inches in diameter. The smallest size can be enclosed in watch cases, fig. 35, or otherwise, so as to be adapted to the pocket. By a beautifully simple contrivance, a milled rim is adjusted to move round with hand pressure, and carry a fine index or pointer, outside and around the scale engraved on the dial, or face, for the purpose of marking the reading, so that the subsequent increase or decrease of pressure may be readily seen. These very small instruments are found to act quite as correctly as the largest, and are much more serviceable. Besides serving the purpose of a weather-glass in the house or away from home, if carried in the pocket, they are admirably suited to the exigencies of tourists and travellers. They may be had with scale sufficient to measure heights not exceeding 8,000 feet; with a scale of elevation in feet, as well as of pressure in inches, engraved on the dial. The scale of elevation, which is for the temperature of 50°, was computed by Professor Airy, the Astronomer Royal, who kindly presented it to Messrs. Negretti and Zambra, at the same time suggesting its application. Moderate-sized aneroids, fitted in leathern sling cases, are also good travelling instruments, and will be found serviceable to pilots, fishermen, and for use in coasting and small vessels, where a mercurial barometer cannot be employed, because requiring too much space. [Illustration: Fig. 35.] Admiral FitzRoy, in a communication to the _Mercantile Marine Magazine_, December, 1860, says:--"Aneroids are now made more portable, so that a pilot or chief boatman may carry one in his pocket, as a railway guard carries his timekeeper; and, thus provided, pilots cruising for expected ships would be able to caution strangers arriving, if bad weather were impending, or give warning to coasters or fishing boats. Harbours of Refuge, however excellent and important, are not always accessible, even when most wanted, as in snow, rain, or darkness, when neither land, nor buoy, nor even a lighthouse-light can be seen." =51. Measurement of Heights by the Aneroid.=--For measuring heights not exceeding many hundred feet above the sea-level by means of the aneroid, the following simple method will suffice:-- Divide the difference between the aneroid readings at the lower and upper stations by ·0011; the quotient will give the approximate height in feet. Thus, supposing the aneroid to read at the Lower Station 30·385 inches. Upper Station 30·025 ------ Difference ·360 ====== Divided gives ·360/·0011 = 327 feet. As an illustration of the mode in which the aneroid should be used in measuring heights, the following example is given:-- A gentleman who ascended Helvellyn, August 12th, 1862, recorded the following observations with a pocket aneroid by Negretti and Zambra:-- Near 10 a.m., at the first milestone from Ambleside, found by survey to be 188 feet above the sea, the aneroid read 29·89 inches; about 1 p.m., at the summit of Helvellyn, 26·81; and at 5 p.m., at the milestone again, 29·76. The temperature of the lower air was 57°, of the upper, 54°. Hence the height of the mountain is deduced as follows:-- Inches. Reading at 10 a.m. 29·89 " 5 p.m. 29·76 ------ Mean 29·825 Table I.[5] 1010 Upper Reading 26·81 " 3796 ----- Difference 2786 Mean Temperature 55°·5, gives in Table II. 1·048 ----- 2920 Lat. 55° N., gives in Table III. ·9991 ----- 2917 Table IV. 5 ----- Difference of height 2922 Height of lower station 188 ----- " Helvellyn 3110 In Sir J. Herschell's _Physical Geography_ it is given as 3115 ft. So near an agreement is attributable to the excellence of the aneroid, and the careful accuracy of the observer. 52. METALLIC BAROMETER. This instrument, the invention of M. Bourdon, has a great resemblance to the aneroid, but is much simpler in arrangement. The inventor has applied the same principle to the construction of metallic steam-pressure gauges. We are here, however, only concerned with it as constructed to indicate atmospheric pressure. It consists of a long slender flattened metallic tube, partially exhausted of air, and hermetically closed at each end, then fixed upon its centre, and bent round so as to make the ends face each other. The transverse section of this tube is an elongated ellipse. The principle of action is this: interior pressure tends to straighten the tube, external pressure causes it to coil more. Hence as the atmospheric pressure decreases, the ends of the tube become more apart. This movement is augmented and transferred by a mechanical arrangement of small metallic levers to a radius bar, which carries a rack formed on the arc of its circle. This moves a pinion, upon the arbour of which a light pointer, or "hand," is poised, which indicates the pressure upon a dial. When the pressure increases, the ends of the tube approach each other, and the pointer moves from left to right over the dial. The whole mechanism is fixed in a brass case, having a hole at the back for adjusting the instrument to the mercurial barometer by means of a key, which sets the pointer without affecting the levers. The dial is generally open to show the mechanism, and is protected by a glass, to which is fitted a moveable index. This barometer is very sensitive, and has the advantage of occupying little space, although it has not yet been made so small as the aneroid. Both these instruments admit of a great variety of mounts to render them ornamental. The metallic barometer can be constructed with a small clock in its centre, so as to form a novel and beautiful drawing-room ornament. Admiral FitzRoy writes, "Metallic barometers, by Bourdon, have not yet been tested in very moist, hot, or cold air for a sufficient time. They are dependent, or secondary instruments, and liable to deterioration. For limited employment, when sufficiently compared, they may be very useful, especially in a few cases of electrical changes, _not foretold or shown by mercury_, which these seem to indicate remarkably." They are not so well adapted for travellers, nor for measurements of considerable elevations, as aneroids. CHAPTER VI. INSTRUMENTS FOR ASCERTAINING TEMPERATURE. =53. Temperature= is the energy with which heat affects our sensation of feeling. Bodies are said to possess the same temperature, when the amounts of heat which they respectively contain act outwardly with the same intensity of transfer or absorption, producing in the one case the sensation of warmth, in the other that of coldness. Instruments used for the determination and estimation of temperatures are called _Thermometers_. Experience proves that the same body always occupies the same space at the same temperature; and that for every increase or decrease of its temperature, it undergoes a definite dilatation or contraction of its volume. Provided, then, a body suffers no loss of substance or peculiar change of its constituent elements or atoms, while manifesting changes of temperature it will likewise exhibit alterations in volume; the latter may, therefore, be taken as exponents of the former. The expansion and contraction of bodies are adopted as arbitrary measures of changes of temperature; and any substance will serve for a thermometer in which these changes of volume are sensible, and can be rendered measureable. =54. Thermometric Substances.=--Thermometers for meteorological and domestic purposes are constructed with liquids, and generally either mercury or alcohol, because their alterations of volume for the same change of temperature are greater than those of solids; while being more manageable, they are preferred to gases. Mercury is of all substances the best adapted for thermometric purposes, as it maintains the liquid state through a great alteration of heat, has a more equable co-efficient of expansion than any other fluid, and is peculiarly sensitive to changes of temperature. The temperature of solidification of mercury, according to Fahrenheit's scale of temperature, is -40°; and its temperature of ebullition is about 600°. Sulphuric ether, nitric acid, oil of sassafras, and other limpid fluids, have been employed for thermometers. =55. Description of the Thermometer.=--The ordinary thermometer consists of a glass tube of very fine bore, having a bulb of thin glass at one extremity, and closed at the other. The bulb and part of the tube contains mercury; the rest of the tube is a vacuum, and affords space for the expansion of the liquid. This arrangement renders very perceptible the alterations in volume of the mercury due to changes of temperature. It is true, the glass expands and contracts also; but only by about one-twentieth of the extent of the mercury. Regarding the bulb, then, as unalterable in size, all the changes in the bulk of the fluid must take place in the tube, and be exhibited by the expansion and contraction of the column, which variations are made to measure changes of temperature. 56. STANDARD THERMOMETER. The peculiarities in the construction of thermometers will be best understood by describing the manufacture of a _Standard Thermometer_, which is one of the most accurate make, and the scale of which is divided independently of any comparison with another thermometer. Fig. 36 is an illustration of such an instrument, on a silvered brass scale. [Illustration: Fig. 36] _Selection of Tube._--In selecting the glass tube, much care is requisite to ascertain that its bore is perfectly uniform throughout. As received from the glass-house, the tubes are generally, in their interior, portions of very elongated cones, so that the bore is wider at one end than at the other. With due care, however, a proper length of tube can be selected, in which there is no appreciable difference of bore. This is ascertained by introducing into the tube a length of mercury of about a half or a third of an inch, and accurately measuring it in various positions in the tube. To accomplish this, the workman blows a bulb at one end of the tube, and heats the bulb a little to drive out some of the air. Then, placing the open end in mercury, upon cooling the elasticity of the enclosed air diminishes, and the superior pressure of the atmosphere drives in some mercury. The workman stops the process so soon as he judges sufficient mercury has entered. By cooling or heating the bulb, as necessary, the mercury is made to pass from one end of the tube to the other. Should the length of this portion of mercury alter in various parts of the bore, the tube must be rejected. If it is, as nearly as possible, one uniform length, the tube is set aside for filling. The _bulb_ is never blown by the breath, but by an elastic caoutchouc ball containing air, so that the introduction of moisture is avoided. The spherical form is to be preferred; for it is best adapted to resist the varying pressure of the atmosphere. The bulbs should not be too large, or the mercury will take some time to indicate sudden changes of temperature. Cylindrical bulbs are sometimes desirable, as they offer larger surfaces to the mercury, and enable thermometers to be made more sensitive. The _mercury_, with which the bulb is to be filled, should be quite pure, and freed from moisture and air by recent boiling. _Filling the Tube._--The filling is effected by heating the bulb with the flame of a spirit-lamp, while the open end is embedded in mercury. Upon allowing the bulb to cool, the atmospheric pressure drives some mercury into it; and the process of heating and cooling is thus continued until sufficient mercury is introduced. The mercury is next boiled in the tube, to expel any air or moisture that may be present. In order to close the tube and exclude all air, the artist ascertains that the tube contains the requisite quantity of mercury; then, by holding the bulb over the spirit flame, he causes the mercury to fill the whole of the tube, and dexterously removing it from the source of heat, he, at the same instant, closes it with the flame of a blow-pipe. If any air remain in the tube, it is easily detected; for if the instrument be inverted, the mercury will fall to the extremity of the tube, if there is a perfect vacuum, unless the tube be so finely capillary that its attraction for the mercury is sufficient to overcome the force of gravity, in which case the mercury will retain its position in every situation of the instrument. If, however, the mercury fall and does not reach quite to the extremity of the bore, some air is present, which must be removed. _The Graduation._--The thermometer is now prepared for graduation, the first part of which process is the determination of two fixed points. These are given by the temperatures of melting ice and of the vapour of boiling water. Melting ice has always the same temperature in every place and under all circumstances; provided only that the water from which the ice is congealed is free from salts. The temperature of the vapour of boiling water depends upon the pressure of the atmosphere, but is always constant for the same pressure. The fixed point corresponding to the temperature of melting ice is called the _freezing point_. It is obtained by keeping the bulb and the part of the tube occupied by mercury immersed in melting ice, until the mercury contracts to a certain point, where it remains stationary. This position of the end of the mercury is then marked upon the tube. The _boiling point_ is not so easily determined, for the barometer must be consulted about the same time. The boiling apparatus is generally constructed of copper. It consists of a cylindrical boiler, heated from the base by a spirit lamp or charcoal fire. An open tube two or three inches in diameter and of suitable length enters the top of the boiler. This tube is enveloped by another fixed to the top of the boiler but not opening into it, and so that the two tubes are about an inch apart. The object of the outer tube is to protect the inner tube from the cold temperature of the air. The outer tube has an opening at the top for the admission of the thermometer, and a hole near the bottom for the escape of steam through a spout. When the water is made to boil, the steam rises in the inner tube, fills the space between the tubes, and escapes at the spout. The thermometer is then passed down into the inner cylinder, and held securely from the top by means of a piece of caoutchouc. The tubes or cylinders should be of sufficient length to prevent the thermometer entering the water. This is necessary because the temperature of boiling water is influenced by any substance which it holds in chemical solution; and, moreover, its temperature increases with the depth, owing to the pressure of the upper stratum. The thermometer being thus surrounded with steam, the mercury rises in the tube. As it does so, the tube should be depressed so as always to keep the top of the mercury just perceptible. When the temperature of the vapour is attained, the mercury ceases to rise, and remains stationary. The position of the end of the mercury is now marked upon the tube, and the "_boiling-point_" is obtained. =57. Methods of ascertaining the exact Boiling Temperature.=--The normal boiling temperature of water all nations have tacitly agreed to fix under a normal barometric pressure of 29·922 inches of mercury, having the temperature of melting ice, in the latitude of 45°, and at the sea-level. If the atmospheric pressure at the time or place of graduating a thermometer does not equal this, the boiling temperature will be higher or lower according as the pressure is greater or less. Hence a reading must be taken from a reliable barometer, which must also be corrected for errors and temperature, and reduced for latitude, in order to compare the actual atmospheric pressure at the time with the assumed normal pressure. Tables of vapour tension, as they are termed, have been computed from accurate experimental investigations and theory,--giving the temperatures of the vapour of water for all probable pressures; Regnault's, the most recent, is considered the most accurate; and his investigations are based upon the standard pressure given above, and are for the same latitude. His Table, therefore, will give the temperature on the thermometric scale corresponding to the pressure. The Commissioners appointed by the British Government to construct standard weights and measures, decided that the normal boiling-point, 212°, on the thermometer should represent the temperature of steam generated under an atmospheric pressure equal in inches of mercury, at the temperature of freezing water, to 29·922 + (cos. 2 latitude × ·0766) + (·00000179 × height in feet above the sea-level). Hence, at London, lat. 51°30´ N., we deduce 29·905 as the barometric pressure representing the normal boiling point of water,--the trifling correction due to height being neglected. If then, in the latitude of London, the barometric pressure, at the time of fixing the boiling point, be not 29·905 inches, that point will be higher or lower, according to the difference of the pressure from the normal. Near the sea-level about 0·59 inch of such difference is equivalent to 1° Fahrenheit in the boiling point. Suppose, then, the atmospheric pressure at London to be 30·785 inches, the following calculation gives the corresponding boiling temperature for Fahrenheit's scale:-- Observed pressure 30·785 Normal " 29·905 ------ Difference ·880 ======= As 0·59 is to 0·88, so is 1° to 1°·5. That is, the water boils at 1°·5 above its normal temperature; so that, in this case, the normal temperature to be placed on the scale, viz. 212°, must be 1°·5 lower than the mark made on the tube at the height at which the mercury stood under the influence of the boiling water. The temperature of the vapour of boiling water may be found, at any time and place, as follows:--Multiply the atmospheric pressure by the factor due to the latitude, given in the annexed Table V., and with the result seek the temperature in Table VI. TABLE V. TABLE VI. +----------------------------------------------------------------+ |Latitude.| Factor. |||Temperature|Tension.||Temperature|Tension.| | | ||| of Vapour.| || of Vapour.| | |---------+---------+++-----------+--------++-----------+--------| |Degrees. | ||| Degrees. |Inches. || Degrees. |Inches. | | 0 | 0·99735 ||| 179 | 14·934 || 197 | 22·036 | | 5 | 0·99739 ||| 180 | 15·271 || 198 | 22·501 | | 10 | 0·99751 ||| 181 | 15·614 || 199 | 22·974 | | 15 | 0·99770 ||| 182 | 15·963 || 200 | 23·456 | | 20 | 0·99797 ||| 183 | 16·318 || 201 | 23·946 | | 25 | 0·99830 ||| 184 | 16·680 || 202 | 24·445 | | 30 | 0·99868 ||| 185 | 17·049 || 203 | 24·952 | | 35 | 0·99910 ||| 186 | 17·425 || 204 | 25·468 | | 40 | 0·99954 ||| 187 | 17·808 || 205 | 25·993 | | 45 | 1·00000 ||| 188 | 18·197 || 206 | 26·527 | | 50 | 1·00046 ||| 189 | 18·594 || 207 | 27·070 | | 55 | 1·00090 ||| 190 | 18·998 || 208 | 27·623 | | 60 | 1·00132 ||| 191 | 19·409 || 209 | 28·185 | | 65 | 1·00170 ||| 192 | 19·828 || 210 | 28·756 | | 70 | 1·00203 ||| 193 | 20·254 || 211 | 29·335 | | 75 | 1·00230 ||| 194 | 20·688 || 212 | 29·922 | | 80 | 1·00249 ||| 195 | 21·129 || 213 | 30·515 | | | ||| 196 | 21·578 || 214 | 31·115 | +----------------------------------------------------------------+ _How to use the Tables._--When the _temperature_ is known to decimals of a degree, take out the tension for the degree, and multiply the difference between it and the next tension by the decimals of the temperature, and add the product to the tension, for the degree. Required the tension corresponding to 197°·84. ° 197 = 22·036 ·465 × ·84 = ·391 198 = 22·501 197° = 22·036 ------ ------ Difference ·465 197·84 = 22·427 ====== ====== When the _tension_ is given, take the difference between it and the next less tension in the Table, and divide this difference by the difference between the next less and next greater tensions. The quotient will be the decimals to add to the degree opposite the next less tension. Thus, for 23·214 inches, required the temperature. Given 23·214 Next greater 23·456 22·974 Next less 22·974 ------ ------ ·240 Difference ·482 ·240 And ---- = ·5 ·482 Temperature opposite next less 199·0 ----- Temperature required 199·5 ===== A similar method of interpolation in taking out numerical quantities is applicable to almost all tables; and should be practised with all those given in this work. _Example._--Thus, in Liverpool, lat. 53° 30´ N., the barometer reading 29·876 inches, its attached thermometer 55°, and the correction of the instrument being + ·015 (including index error, capillarity and capacity), what temperature should be assigned for the boiling point marked on the thermometer? Observed barometer 29·876 Correction + ·015 ------ 29·891 Correction for temperature - ·074 ------ Reduced reading 29·817 Factor from Table V. 1·00077 ------- 208719 208719 29817 ----------- Equivalent for lat. 45° 29·83995909 =========== In Table VI., 29·84 gives temperature 211°·86. =58. Displacement of the Freezing Point.=--Either the prolonged effect of the atmospheric pressure upon the thin glass of the bulbs of thermometers, or the gradual restoration of the equilibrium of the particles of the glass after having been greatly disturbed by the operation of boiling the mercury, seems to be the cause of the freezing points of standard thermometers reading from a few tenths to a degree higher in the course of some years, as has been repeatedly observed. To obviate this small error, it is our practice to place the tubes aside for about six months before fixing the freezing point, in order to give time for the glass to regain its former state of aggregation. The making of accurate thermometers is a task attended with many difficulties, the principal one being the liability of the zero or freezing point varying constantly, so much so, that a thermometer that is perfectly correct to-day, if immersed in boiling water, will be no longer accurate; at least, it will take some time before it again settles into its normal state. Then, again, if a thermometer is recently blown, filled, and graduated immediately, or, at least, before some months have elapsed, though every care may have been taken with the production of the instrument, it will require some correction; so that the instrument, however carefully made, should from time to time be plunged into finely-pounded ice, in order to verify the freezing point. =59. The Scale.=--The two fixed points having been determined, it is necessary to apply the scale. The thermometers in general use in the United Kingdom, the British Colonies, and North America are constructed with Fahrenheit's scale. Fahrenheit was a philosophical instrument maker of Amsterdam, who, about the year 1724, invented the scale which has given his name to the thermometer. The freezing point is marked 32°, the boiling point 212°, so that the intermediate space is divided into 180 equal parts, called degrees. "The principle which dictated this _peculiar division_ of the scale is as follows:--When the instrument stood at the greatest cold of Iceland, or 0 degree, it was computed to contain 11124 equal parts of quicksilver, which, when plunged in melting snow, expanded to 11156 parts; hence the intermediate space was divided into 32 equal portions, and 32 was taken as the freezing point of water: when the thermometer was plunged in boiling water, the quicksilver was expanded to 11336; and therefore 212° was marked as the boiling point of that fluid. In _practice_, Fahrenheit determined the divisions of his scale from two fixed points, the freezing and boiling of water. _The theory_ of the division, if we may so speak, was derived from the lowest cold observed in Iceland, and the expansions of a given portion of mercury" (_Professor Trail_). The divisions of the scale can be carried beyond the fixed points, if requisite, by equal graduations. Fahrenheit's scale is very convenient in some respects. The meteorological observer is seldom troubled with negative signs, as the zero of the scale is much below freezing. Again, the divisions are more numerous, and consequently smaller, than on other scales in use; and the further subdivision into tenths of degrees, seems to give all the minuteness usually required. _Celcius_, a Swede, in 1742, proposed zero for the freezing point, and 100 for the boiling point, all temperatures below zero being distinguishable by the sign (--) minus. This scale is known as the _centigrade_, and is in use in France, Sweden, and the southern part of Europe. It has the advantage of the decimal notation, with the embarrassment of the negative sign. _Reaumur_, a Frenchman, proposed zero for the freezing point, and 80° for the boiling point, an arrangement inferior to the centigrade. It is, however, in use in Spain, Switzerland, and Germany. It is merely a simple arithmetical operation to change the indications of any one of these scales into the equivalents on the others. To facilitate such conversions, tables are convenient, when a large number of observations are under discussion; and they can be easily formed or obtained. In the absence of such tables, the following formulæ will insure accuracy of method, and save thinking, when occasional conversions are wanted to be made:--F. stands for Fahrenheit, C. for Centigrade, and R. for Reaumur. Given. Required. Solution. F. C. = (F.-32) 5/9 F. R. = (F.-32) 4/9 C. F. = 9/5 C. + 32 C. R. = 4/5 C. R. F. = 9/5 R. + 32 R. C. = 5/4 R. _Example._--Convert 25° of Fahrenheit's scale into the corresponding temperature on the Centigrade scale. Here C. = (25 - 32) 5/9 C. = -35/9 = -3·9 or nearly 4° _below_ zero of the Centigrade scale. The algebraical sign must be carefully attended-to in the calculations. =60. The method of testing Thermometers= for meteorological purposes is very simple. Such thermometers are seldom required to read above 120°. In these the freezing point having been determined, the divisions of the scale are ascertained by careful comparisons, with a standard thermometer, in water of the requisite temperature. "For the freezing point, the bulbs, and a considerable portion of the tubes of the thermometers, are immersed in pounded ice. For the higher temperatures, the thermometers are placed in a cylindrical glass vessel containing water of the required heat: the scales of the thermometers intended to be tested, together with the Standard with which they are to be compared, are read through the glass. In this way the scale readings may be tested at any required degree of temperature, and the usual practice is to test them at every ten degrees from 32° to 92° of Fahrenheit."--_FitzRoy._ =61. Porcelain Scale Plates.=--Thermometer scales of brass, wood, or ivory, either by atmospheric influence or dipping in sea-water, are very liable to become soiled and discoloured, so much so that after a very little time the divisions are rendered nearly invisible. To obviate this inconvenience, Messrs. Negretti and Zambra were the first to introduce into extensive use thermometer and barometer scale-plates made of porcelain, having the divisions and figures engraved thereon by means of fluoric acid, and permanently burnt-in and blackened, so as always to present a clear legible scale. That these scales have been found superior to all others, may be inferred from the fact that all the thermometers now supplied to the various government departments are provided with such scales. They can be adapted to replace any of the old forms of brass or zinc scales, the divisions and figures of which have become obliterated or indistinct. =62. Enamelled Tubes.=--Nearly all thermometer tubes are now made with enamelled backs. This contrivance of enamelling the backs of the tubes enables the makers to use finer threads of mercury than had before been found practicable; for were it not for the great contrast between the dark thread of mercury and the white enamel on the glass, many of the thermometers now in use would be positively illegible. The enamelling of thermometers is an invention of Messrs. Negretti and Zambra. It is necessary to state this, as many persons, from interested motives, are anxious to ignore to whom the credit of the invention is due. =63. Thermometers of extreme Sensitiveness.=--Thermometers for delicate experiments are no novelty. Thermometers have been made with very delicate bulbs to contain a very small quantity of mercury. Such instruments have also been made with spiral or coiled tubular bulbs, but the thickness of glass required to keep these coils or spirals in shape, and in fact to prevent their falling to pieces, served to nullify the effect sought to be produced, viz. instantaneous action; and where a small thin bulb was employed, the indicating column was generally so fine that it was positively invisible except by the aid of a powerful lens. Messrs. Negretti and Zambra have now introduced a new form of thermometer, which combines sensitiveness and quickness of action, together with a good visible column. The bulb of this thermometer is of the gridiron form. Care has been taken in constructing the bulb, so that the objections attending spirals and other forms have been overcome; for whilst the reservoir or bulb is made of glass so thin that it is only by a spirit lamp and not a glass blower's blowpipe that it can be formed, yet it is still so rigid (owing to its peculiar configuration) that no variations in its indications can be detected, whether it be held in a horizontal, vertical, or oblique position, nor will any error be detected if it be stood on its own bulb. They have made thermometers with bulbs or reservoirs formed of about nine inches of excessively thin cylindrical glass, whose outer diameter is not more than a twentieth of an inch; so that, owing to the large surface presented, the indications are positively instantaneous. This form of thermometer was constructed expressly to meet the requirements of scientific balloon ascents, to enable thermometrical readings to be taken at the precise elevation. It was contemplated to procure a metallic thermometer, but on the production of this perfect instrument the idea was abandoned. 64. VARIETIES OF THERMOMETERS. Fig. 37 is an illustration of boxwood scale thermometers for general use and common purposes. Fig. 38, Negretti and Zambra's Travelling Thermometer; it is fixed in a plated metal (silver or otherwise) case, similar to a pencil-case, and has the scale divided upon its stem. Fig. 39, Thermometer mounted on a slab of glass, upon which the scale is etched, the back being either oak, mahogany, or ebony. Fig. 40, Portable Thermometer, in a bronzed brass or German silver revolving case. Fig. 41, Pocket Thermometer, on ivory or metallic scale, in morocco or papier-mâché case. [Illustration: Fig. 37.] [Illustration: Fig. 38.] [Illustration: Fig. 39.] [Illustration: Fig. 40.] [Illustration: Fig. 41.] Fig. 42, an Ornamental Drawing-room Thermometer, on ebony or ivory stand, with glass shade. Fig. 43, representation of highly carved or engine-turned design for thermometer mounts, in ivory or wood, for the drawing-room. Some have the addition of a sundial or compass at the top; they may also be formed for a watch-stand. Fig. 44, =Bath Thermometer=, having a float to admit of its being kept in the water. [Illustration: Fig. 42.] [Illustration: Fig. 43.] [Illustration: Fig. 44.] Fig. 45, Thermometer with ivory scale in glass cylinder, mounted on oak bracket with metal top, for out-door use; as at a window. Fig. 46, Thermometer for the window, on patent porcelain or glass scale, with oak bracket and convenient brass supports, for placing the instrument at any angle. Fig. 47, =Chemical Thermometer=, on boxwood scale, jointed near the bulb on a brass hinge, ranging from 300° to 600°. Fig. 48, =Chemical Thermometer=, for acids, graduated on its own stem, suitable for insertion in the tubulure of retorts; they are also made insulated in glass cylinder to protect the graduated stem; ranging from 0° to 600°. [Illustration: Fig. 45.] [Illustration: Fig. 46.] [Illustration: Fig. 47.] [Illustration: Fig. 48.] [Illustration: Fig. 49.] [Illustration: Fig. 50.] =65. Superheated Steam Thermometer.=--The great advantage gained by the use of superheated steam in marine and other steam-engines being now generally admitted by engineers, reliable thermometers, reading to 600° at least, are of the utmost importance. To meet this want, Messrs. Negretti and Zambra have constructed for the purpose a substantial form of thermometer, on their patent porcelain scales, in strong and convenient metal mountings, with perforated protection to the bulb. The scales cannot be deteriorated by steam, heat, oil, or dirt; and an occasional wiping will be all that is necessary to keep the divisions and figures clean and visible for any length of time; while careful calibration of the thermometer tubes ensures the most accurate indications attainable. These thermometers are illustrated by figs. 49 & 50. A similar, but cheaper, construction is given to thermometers to be used with hot air, or hot water, apparatus. =66. Thermometer for Sugar Boiling= is protected by a metallic frame; and is usually from three to four feet long, the graduations being confined to a space of about twelve inches at the upper part of the instrument, allowing the bulb and greater part of the tube to be immersed in the boiling sugar. The graduations extend to 270° or further. An index is sometimes attached to the scale, which may be set to any degree of heat required to be maintained. 67. EARTH THERMOMETER. The Earth Thermometer is for ascertaining the temperature of the soil at various depths. It is protected by a brass frame, pointed and strengthened at the end to facilitate insertion into the ground, as in fig. 51. [Illustration: Fig. 51.] _Utility of a Knowledge of the Temperature of the Soil._--The temperature of the soil is an important element in the consideration of climate, as it concerns the vegetable kingdom. Dr. Daubeny, in his _Lectures on Climate_, gives the following statement with respect to some temperatures which have been observed just beneath the earth's surface, in different parts of the globe:-- -------------------------------------------------------------------- Country. | Temperature. | Authority. -----------------+-------------------------------------------------- Tropics, often |162-184° | Humboldt. | | Egypt |133-144 | Edwards & Colin. | | Orinoco |In white sand, 140 | Humboldt. | | Chili |113-118, among dry grass | Boussingault. | | Cape of Good Hope|150, under the soil of a bulb | Herschell. garden | | | Bermuda |142, thermometer barely covered | Emmet. | in earth | | | China |Water of the fields, 113; | Meyer. | adjacent sand, much higher; | | blackened sides of the boat | | at midday, 142-150 | | | France |118-122, and in one instance 127| Arago. -------------------------------------------------------------------- "The importance of this to vegetation may be estimated by the following considerations:-- "It is known that every plant requires a certain amount of heat, varying in the case of each species, for the renewal of its growth, at the commencement of the season. "Now when this degree of heat has spurred into activity those parts that are above ground, and caused them to elaborate the sap, it is necessary that the subterranean portions should at the same time be excited by the heat of the ground to absorb the materials which are to supply the plant with nourishment. Unless the latter function is provided for, the aerial portions of the plant will languish from want of food to assimilate. Indeed, it is even advisable that the roots should take the start of the leaves, in order to have in readiness a store of food for the latter to draw upon." In another place the professor remarks:--"It has been calculated by Mr. Raikes, from experiments made at Chat Moss, that the temperature of the soil when drained averages 10° more than it does when undrained; and this is not surprising, when we find that 1 lb. of water evaporated from 1,000 lbs. of soil will depress the whole by 10°, owing to the latent heat which it absorbs in its conversion into vapour." 68. MARINE THERMOMETER. This instrument is a special construction to meet the requirements of navigation. It consists of a carefully constructed thermometer divided on its stem to degrees, which are sufficiently large to admit of subdivision into tenths of degrees by estimation, and ranging from 0° to 130°. The scale is porcelain, having the degrees etched upon it, and burnt-in a permanent black. The instrument is made to slide into a japanned metallic case, for handy use and protection. It is therefore adapted for almost any ordinary purpose; and cannot be injuriously affected by any chemical action arising from air or sea-water. A set of these thermometers consists of six, carefully packed in a neat box; two having japanned metallic cases (fig. 52), the others being designed for use without the case, or to replace a breakage. [Illustration: Fig. 52.] This thermometer is employed in the Royal Navy, and for the observations made at sea for the Board of Trade. The thermometer is now considered a necessary instrument on board ship. Not only is it of invaluable utility in connection with the barometer as a guide to the weather, but its indications are of service in showing the presence of a warm or cold current in the sea; many of the great oceanic currents being characterised by the warmth or coldness of their waters. In seas visited by icebergs, the habitual use of the thermometer would indicate their proximity, as the water is rendered colder for some distance around by the thawing of huge masses of ice. The water over a shoal in the sea is generally colder than the surface-water of the surrounding ocean; which may result from the cold water being brought to the surface by the current of water encountering the shoal. With this fact navigators are well acquainted; and therefore a fall in the sea-water thermometer may forebode that shallow water is at hand. It has been ascertained that fish inhabit regions of the oceans and seas having the peculiar temperature suitable to their habits. The better and firmer sort of fish are found where cold waters exist. Those taken in warmer belts or streams of water, even in the same latitude, are far inferior in condition, and less approved by the palate. The fish of the Mediterranean, a warm sea, are generally poor and scarce. Fish taken in the cold waters between the American shore and the Gulf Stream are much esteemed; while in and on the other side of the stream they are said to be tasteless, and of no flavour. Between the coasts of China and the warm waters of the Japanese current, the seas abound with excellent fish; but in the warm waters of the current and beyond, they are never seen in such shoals. In fact, it is clearly ascertained that fishes are adapted to climates, like birds and beasts. It has been even affirmed, after careful investigation, that herrings, which abound in the British Seas, and form a most important branch of our fisheries, can only be found in a temperature varying from 54° to 58°. Hence the thermometer, if brought into use by the fishermen, would guide them to the spots where they may with the best chance cast their nets on dark nights, when other indications are not perceptible. This thermometer in its metallic case is perfectly suited for dipping overboard, or placing in a bucket of water just taken from the sea, to ascertain its temperature. CHAPTER VII. SELF-REGISTERING THERMOMETERS. =69. Importance of Self-Registering Thermometers.=--Heat being apparently the most effective agent in producing meteorological phenomena, the determination of the highest temperature of the day, and the lowest during the night, is a prime essential to enable an estimate of the climate of any place to be formed. To observe these extremes by means of the ordinary thermometer would be impracticable, from the constant watchfulness which would be necessary. Hence, the utility and importance of self-recording thermometers are evident. A thermometer constructed to _register_ the highest temperature is usually called a _maximum thermometer_; one to show the lowest temperature is termed a _minimum thermometer_; and if made to record both extremes of temperature, it is designated a _maximum-and-minimum thermometer_. We will, for the sake of method, describe the instruments in use in this order. It would carry us beyond our scope to explain in detail the methods of dealing with temperature observations; but we may remark that half the sum of the maximum and minimum temperature of each day of twenty-four hours, is not what meteorologists designate the _mean daily temperature_, although it very frequently approximates to it. The mean temperature of the day is understood to be the average of twenty-four consecutive hourly readings of a thermometer; and meteorology now supplies formulæ whereby this result can be deduced from two or three observations only in a day. But we would observe that the actual mean temperature of any place has not such an important influence upon life, either animal or vegetable, as the abruptness and magnitude of the variations of temperature. Climate, therefore, should be estimated more by the range of the thermometer than by the average of its indications. The Registrar General's returns prove that with a wide range of the thermometer, the mortality greatly increases; and it is now becoming apparent to meteorologists that the daily range of the thermometer marks the effects of temperature on the health of men, and the success of crops, better than any other meteorological fact of which we take cognizance. Now that self-registering thermometers are constructed with mercury, the most appropriate of all thermometric substances, not only for maxima, but likewise for minima temperatures, the determination of the diurnal range of temperature is rendered more certain, and observations at different places are more strictly comparable. MAXIMA THERMOMETERS. =70. Rutherford's Maximum Thermometer.=--The maximum thermometer, invented by Dr. John Rutherford, differs from an ordinary thermometer in having a small cylinder of steel, porcelain, or aluminium, moving freely in the tube beyond the mercury, so as to form an index. The stem of the thermometer is fixed horizontally on the frame, which must be suspended in the same position, as represented in fig. 53. The instrument is set by holding it bulb downward, so as to allow the index to fall by its own gravity into contact with the mercury. Increase of heat produces expansion of the mercury, which consequently pushes forward the index. When the temperature decreases, the mercury recedes from the index, leaving it so that the extremity which was in contact with the mercury indicates upon the scale the highest temperature since the instrument was last set. [Illustration: Fig. 53.] As it is easily constructed and is comparatively cheap, it is still employed for ordinary purposes. Its disadvantages are, firstly, its liability of soon getting out of order by the index becoming embedded in the mercury, or fixed by oxidation, thus rendering it altogether useless; secondly, the ease with which the index can be displaced by the wind moving the instrument, or other accidental disturbance, so as to cause it to give erroneous indications occasionally; and thirdly, its consequent total unfitness for use at sea. In the part of the tube beyond the mercury, a small quantity of air is enclosed for the purpose of preventing the metal flowing freely in the tube. This necessitates the construction of a larger bulb, which renders the thermometer less sensitive. Moreover, as it frequently happens that some mercury passes the index, particles of air insinuate themselves in the metal, and cause separations in the column, which very often can be removed only by a maker. To facilitate this re-adjustment, a small chamber is left at the end of the tube, and the mercury being expanded into it by heat until the index and air bubbles are forced into it, if possible, upon the cooling down again, by a little management, the mercury will contract, leaving the air and index behind. Yet sometimes the index cannot be moved in the least from its place of fixture, so that the instrument must be virtually reconstructed. =71. Phillip's Maximum Thermometer.=--A maximum thermometer, better perhaps in its action than Rutherford's, has been suggested by Professor John Phillips, of Oxford. A small portion of air is introduced into an ordinary thermometer, so as to cut off about half an inch of the mercurial thread near its end in the tube. This forms a maximum thermometer, when the stem is arranged horizontally. The isolated portion is pushed forward by expansion, and is left in this position when the mercury contracts. The end remote from the bulb shows on the scale the maximum temperature. When made with a capillary tube so fine that the attraction arising from capillarity overcomes the force of gravity, and prevents the mercury falling to the end of the tube when the instrument is inverted, it forms a very serviceable thermometer, quite portable and suitable for use on board ship. In such a tube a smart shake from a swing of the hand is required to bring the detached portion back to the column, so as to set the instrument for future observation; no ordinary motion will move it. When the thermometer has not this peculiarity, the mercury will flow to the end, if held bulb downward; and in this state it is not at all a satisfactory instrument, as the air is likely to be displaced, and a great deal of tact is requisite to again get it to divide the column suitably. It has been found in practice that the air bubble at different temperatures assumes different lengths, and if very small it disappears in a few years by oxidation and by diffusion with the mercury, so that the instrument becomes defective and uncertain in action,--results which led to the construction of the self-registering mercurial maximum thermometer, invented and patented by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra. It has been before the public about twelve years; we may therefore, now, safely speak of its merits. =72. Negretti and Zambra's Patent Maximum Thermometer= consists of a glass tube containing mercury fitted on an engraved scale, as shown in fig. 54. The part of the thermometer tube above the mercury is entirely free from air; and at the point A in the bend above the bulb, is inserted and fixed with the blow-pipe a small piece of solid glass, or enamel, which acts as a valve, allowing mercury to pass on one side of it when heat is applied, but not allowing it to return when the thermometer cools. When mercury has been once made to pass the contraction, which nothing but the expansive force of heat can effect, and has risen in the tube, the upper end of the column registers the maximum temperature. To return the mercury to the bulb, we must apply a force equal to that which raised it in the tube; the force employed is gravity, assisted when necessary by a little agitation of the instrument. [Illustration: Fig. 54.] The degrees are generally divided on the stems of these thermometers, but their frames of course bear a scale as well. The makers have various styles of framing in wood, metal, porcelain, and even glass. Each material is eligible according to requirements. Porcelain scales, having the marks _etched_ upon them by acid and permanently blackened and baked in,--by a process for which the inventors have a separate patent,--will be found very serviceable, as they do not corrode or tarnish by exposure to any kind of weather; while any amount of dust and dirt can readily be cleaned off. The chief recommendation of this thermometer is its simplicity of construction, enabling it to be used with confidence and safety. Of no other maximum thermometer can it be said that it is impossible to derange or put it out of order; hence, as regards durability, it surpasses all others. Nothing short of actual breakage can cause it to fail. Hence it is the most easily portable of all self-registering thermometers, an advantage which renders it suitable for travellers, and for transmission abroad. In the year 1852, the British Meteorological Society reported this thermometer to be "the best which has yet been constructed for maximum temperature, and particularly for sun observations." Since then eleven years have elapsed, and it is still without a rival. _Directions for use._ In using this thermometer for meteorological observations, it should be suspended by means of two brass plates B, C, attached for that purpose, in such manner that it hangs raised up a little at C, and so placed that it is in the shade, with the air passing freely to it from all sides; then, on an increase of heat, the mercury will pass up the tube as in an ordinary thermometer, and continue doing so as long as the heat increases. On a decrease of heat, the contraction of mercury will take place _below_ the _bend_ in the tube, leaving the whole column of mercury in the tube, thus registering the highest temperature, and showing such till the instrument is disturbed. To prepare the instrument for future observations, remove and hold it perpendicularly, with the bulb downward, and then shake it. The mercury will then descend in the tube, and indicate the temperature of the air at that time; and, when again suspended, is prepared for future observation. After the temperature has attained a maximum, there will be, with a decrease of heat, a slight contraction of mercury in the tube--as well as of that in the bulb--and hence doubts have arisen as to the accuracy of the registration; but calculation shows, and critical trial has proved, that the greatest daily range of temperature will not produce an error large enough to be appreciable on the scale. A very great advantage of this thermometer is that the mercury may be allowed to flow to the end of the tube without the maximum temperature attained during an experiment being lost. It can be employed with the bulb uppermost. All that is necessary for reading the maximum temperature is to slope the instrument so that the mercury flows gently towards the bulb. It will then stop at the contraction so as to show the maximum temperature on the scale. Afterwards the mercury is driven into the bulb by agitating the instrument while held in the hand. Hence the instrument is invaluable as a registering thermometer on board ship, as its indications are in no way affected by the motions and tremors of the vessel. For physiological experiments, such as taking the temperature of the mouth in fever, this thermometer is the only one that can be used with certainty, as it can be held in any position, without losing the maximum temperature attained. MINIMA THERMOMETERS. =73. Rutherford's Alcohol Minimum Thermometer=, fig. 55, consists of a glass tube, the bulb and part of the bore of which is filled with perfectly pure spirits of wine, in which moves freely a black glass index. A slight elevation of the thermometer, bulb uppermost, will cause the glass index to flow to the surface of the liquid, where it will remain, unless violently shaken. On a _decrease_ of temperature the alcohol recedes, taking with it the glass index; on an _increase_ of temperature the alcohol alone ascends in the tube, leaving the end of the index _farthest_ from the bulb indicating the minimum temperature. [Illustration: Fig. 55.] _Directions for using, &c._--Having caused the glass index to flow to the end of the column of spirit, by slightly tilting the thermometer, bulb uppermost, suspend the instrument (in the shade with the air passing freely to it on all sides) by the two brass plates attached for that purpose,--in such manner that the bulb is about half an inch lower than the upper, or the end of the thermometer farthest from the bulb; then, on a decrease of temperature, the spirits of wine will descend, carrying with it the glass index; on an increase of temperature, however, the spirits of wine will ascend in the tube, leaving that end of the small glass index farthest from the bulb indicating the minimum temperature. To reset the instrument, simply raise the bulb end of the thermometer a little, as before observed, and the index will again descend to the end of the column, ready for future observation. _Precautions._--1. By no means jerk or shake an alcohol minimum thermometer _when resetting_ it, for by so doing it is liable to disarrange the instrument, either by causing the index to leave the spirit, or by separating a portion of the spirit from the main column. 2. As alcohol thermometers have a tendency to read lower by age, owing to the volatile nature of the fluid allowing particles in the form of vapour to rise and lodge in the tube, it becomes necessary to compare them occasionally with a mercurial thermometer whose index error is known; and if the difference be more than a few tenths of a degree, examine well the upper part of the tube to see if any alcohol is hanging in the bore thereof; if so, the detached portion of it can be joined to the main column by swinging the thermometer with a pendulous motion, _bulb downwards_. 3. The spirit column is sometimes much separated by jolting in travelling. If the instrument is in such a condition when received, it should be held by the right hand, bulb downward, and the frame tapped smartly, but cautiously, against the palm of the left hand. The broken thread of spirit will soon begin to join, and by continuing the operation a sufficient time all the bubbles will disappear, and the thermometer become as good as ever. =74. Horticultural Minimum Thermometer.=--This instrument, represented in fig. 56, is a special construction of Rutherford's minimum thermometer to meet the requirements of horticulturists. It is desirable, if not essential, that gardeners should have the means of ascertaining to what temperature stoves and greenhouses descend on cold nights, especially in winter. This thermometer is mounted on a strong cast zinc frame, with the divisions and figures of the scale raised. [Illustration: Fig. 56.] The sunk surface of the frame is painted dark; the figures and division a bright colour, so that observations can be made without a close inspection of the instrument. The directions for using are the same as those given in the preceding section. It may be used as an ordinary thermometer, by simply hanging it from the top loop, in which position, the coloured liquid will always indicate the present temperature. It was a source of annoyance with the ordinary boxwood and flat metal scales, that after a time, exposure to a damp warm atmosphere favoured the growth of confervæ upon them, and obliterated the divisions; the plan of raising the figures and divisions of the scale has been found to prevent the destruction of the instrument in this way. =75. Baudin's Alcohol Minimum Thermometer.=--This instrument resembles Rutherford's thermometer in appearance; its indications are given by the expansion and contraction of alcohol, and its minimum temperature is likewise registered by a glass index being pulled back and left behind by the alcohol, as in Rutherford's instrument. There is, however, a great improvement in Baudin's instrument; for whilst Rutherford's thermometer can only register in a horizontal position, Baudin's can be used either horizontally or vertically, as necessity may require. This important change is effected in the following manner:--Instead of the index in the thermometer being loose and free to run up and down according to the position in which the instrument is held, as in Rutherford's, the index in the new instrument is made to fit the bore of the tube as nearly tight as possible, so much so that in holding the thermometer even upside down, or shaking it, the index will not shift from its position; but, inasmuch as a minimum thermometer with an immoveable index could not be set when required for observation, and would consequently be useless, the inventor has introduced behind the index a piece of solid glass, about one-and-a-half inch in length, which moves freely in the alcohol. The addition of the weight of this piece of glass on the top of the index, when turned upside down, forces the index down to the edge of the alcohol; and it is there left, as in the case of the ordinary Rutherford's thermometer. It is, therefore, by turning the thermometer upside down, and letting the moveable piece of glass fall on the index, that the index is driven to the end of the alcohol; after this operation the thermometer is hung up either horizontally or vertically, and will then be ready for use. The index, although immoveable _per se_, is by the alcohol drawn back, as in the ordinary minimum, and its indications are read off on the scale from the top of the index. =76. Mercurial Minima Thermometers desirable.=--Alcohol does not expand equally for equal increments of heat, consequently errors are likely to exist in the scale indications unless the graduations are very accurately--not necessarily equally--made. On this account, as well as from the volatility of alcohol, and the intervention of gaseous partitions in the tube, a good and thoroughly reliable minimum thermometer was for a long time a desideratum. It was desirable to obtain a thermometer which should register the lowest temperature by mercury, the fluid in general use for meteorological thermometers. Several instruments have recently been invented to meet this requirement, which are suitable and satisfactory for land purposes, but one well adapted for use on board ship is still very much wanted. For very low temperatures, alcohol thermometers will always be required; as mercury freezes at -40° F, and contracts very irregularly much before this point, while alcohol has never yet been frozen. =77. Negretti and Zambra's Patent Mercurial Minimum Thermometer=, represented by fig. 57, has a cylindrical bulb of large size, which, at first sight, might induce the idea that the instrument would not be sufficiently sensitive; but as length is given to the cylinder instead of increasing its diameter, it will be found as sensitive as a globular bulb of the same diameter, and much more so than an ordinary alcohol thermometer. [Illustration: Fig. 57.] The reason for having the bulb large is to allow the internal diameter of the thermometer tube to be larger than that generally used for thermometrical purposes, so that a steel index, pointed at both ends, may move freely within when required. The tube is blown, filled and regulated in the usual way, 60° of temperature being about half-way up the tube. A small cylindrical bulb is then formed at the upper end of the tube, and then is introduced a steel needle pointed at both ends, that in contact with the mercury being abrupt, the other more prolonged. The open extremity of the tube is now drawn out into a fine capillary tube, and the bulb of the instrument warmed so as to cause the mercury to fill the tube completely. When the mercury reaches the capillary tube, the flame of a blow-pipe is applied; the glass is dexterously melted, the superfluous part taken away, and the tube left hermetically closed. During this operation, the steel index has been embedded in the heated mercury. As the instrument cools, if held upright, the mercury will recede and expose the needle, which will then follow the descending column simply by its own gravity. In this condition the thermometer resembles Rutherford's maximum, being a tube of mercury with a steel index floating on its surface; but it possesses these important advantages: it is quite free from air, so that the mercury can move with perfect freedom; and the index is pointed at both ends, to allow the mercury to pass, instead of being ground flat to prevent it. _To use the Thermometer_, it is suspended perpendicularly (figure 57) with the steel index resting on the surface of the mercurial column. As the mercury in the cylinder contracts, that in the tube descends, and the index, of its own gravity, follows it; on the contrary, as the mercury expands and rises in the tube, it passes the index on one side, and in rising, exerts a lateral pressure on the needle, and jams it to one side of the tube, where it remains firmly fixed, leaving the upper point of the needle indicating the minimum temperature. In this thermometer, the reading is always from the upper point of the needle, and not from the mercury itself. _To extricate the Needle_ from the mercury, a magnet is used, when, if the needle is embedded only a few degrees, it can readily be withdrawn without altering the position of the instrument. Should the magnet not be sufficient for the purpose, we simply turn the thermometer on its support from the upright position, slightly elevating the bulb (fig. 58 (=2=)). The mercury and index will then flow into the small reservoir. Should the index not freely leave the tube with the mercury, assist it with a magnet, and when the mercury and index are in the upper bulb (figure =2=), apply a magnet outside, which will attract and hold fast the index; and whilst thus holding it, again bring the thermometer to the upright position, when the mercury will immediately fall back into the tube, leaving the index attached to the magnet (figure =4=), with which it is guided down to the surface of the mercury, ready for another observation. [Illustration: Fig. 58.] Care must be taken not to withdraw the magnet until the index is in contact with mercury; for, if released before touching, it might plunge too deeply, and give a false indication. The rule for re-setting it will be to bring the needle-point in contact with the mercury, and then withdraw the magnet, having previously ascertained that no particles of mercury are attached to the index. It may sometimes, though rarely, happen, that from the time a minimum temperature is registered by the index, and by the time an observation is made, the mercury may have risen so high in the tube as to completely pass the index, as shown (figure =3=). Should it so happen, the space which the index occupies will readily be observed, as it will be pressed to one side of the tube, causing a different appearance in that part, although the point of the needle may not be seen. If such be the case, apply a magnet to the spot where you see the index is fixed: this will hold the needle firmly. Then, by slightly tilting the thermometer bulb uppermost, the mercury will flow into the top bulb, leaving the index attached to the magnet, and quite uncovered. Having taken the reading, draw the needle into the top bulb, and hold it there whilst you adjust the thermometer by again bringing it to the upright position. By contracting the bore of this thermometer, at the bend of the tube, sufficiently to keep the mercury from flowing out of its bulb with too much freedom by motion, the instrument becomes perfectly safe for transmission abroad. =78. Negretti & Zambra's Second Patent Mercurial Minimum Thermometer.=--In this thermometer a principle is used that has been long known to scientific men, viz. the affinity of mercury for platinum. If mercury be placed in contact with platinum under ordinary circumstances, no effect will take place; but if the mercury is once made to attack the platinum, the amalgamation is permanent and the contact perfect, so much so, that the principle was made use of in constructing standard barometers. A ring of platinum was fused round the end of the tube, dipping into the mercury; and the contact between the platinum and mercury became so perfect that air could not creep down the tube and up the bore, as in ordinary barometer tubes. This principle of adhesion or affinity of mercury for platinum has been brought into play for the purpose of arresting the mercury after it has reached the minimum temperature in a thermometer. This thermometer is made as follows:--behind the bulb is placed a supplementary chamber; in the space or neck between the bulb of the thermometer and the chamber, is placed a small piece of platinum; this may be of any shape or size, but the smaller the better. This is not to fit in the neck; it must, on the contrary, be rather loose; it may be fastened in position or not. The instrument is represented by fig. 59. [Illustration: Fig. 59.] _Directions for using._--Having suspended the thermometer in a horizontal position, the mercury is made to stand in exact contact with the platinum plug by slightly elevating the bulb end of the instrument. The thermometer is now ready for observation. On a decrease of temperature, the mercury will endeavour to contract first from the easier passage, viz. behind the bulb; but in consequence of the adhesion of the mercury to the platinum, it cannot recede from here, it is therefore forced to contract from the indicating tube, and will continue to do so as long as the temperature decreases; and as no indices are employed in this thermometer, the extreme end of the mercurial column will show "how cold it has been." On an increase of temperature the mercury will glide over the platinum plug and expand by the easier passage into the supplementary chamber, and there remain until a decrease of temperature again takes place, when the mercury that had gone into the supplementary chamber will be the first to recede, until it reaches the platinum plug, its further progress being arrested; it will then fall in the indicating tube, and there remain until re-set. =79. Casella's Mercurial Minimum Thermometer.=--The general form and arrangement of this instrument is shown in fig. 60. A tube with large bore, _a_, has at the end a _flat glass diaphragm_ formed by the abrupt junction of a small chamber, _b c_, the inlet to which at _b_ is larger than the bore of the indicating tube. The result of this is that on setting the thermometer, as described below, the contracting force of the mercury in cooling withdraws the fluid in the indicating stem only; whilst on its expanding with heat, the long column does not move, the increased bulk of mercury finding an easier passage into the small pear-shaped chamber attached. [Illustration: Fig. 60.] We believe that a small speck of air must be confined in the chamber, _b c_, to act as a spring to start the mercury from the chamber in the act of setting the thermometer. Were this air not present, the mercury would so adhere to the glass that no amount of shaking could induce it to flow from the chamber. _To set the Instrument_, place it in a horizontal position, with the back plate, _d_, suspended on a nail, and the lower part supported on a hook, _e_. The bulb end may now be gently raised or lowered, causing the mercury to flow slowly until the bent part, _a_, _is full_ and the chamber, _b c_, _quite empty_. At this point the flow of mercury in the long stem of the tube is arrested, _and indicates the exact temperature_ of the bulb or air at the time. On an increase of temperature the mercury will expand into the small chamber, _b c_; and a return of cold will cause its recession from this chamber only, until it reaches the diaphragm, _b_. Any further diminution of heat withdraws the mercury down the bore to whatever degree the cold may attain, where it remains until farther withdrawn by increased cold, or till re-set for future observation. MAXIMA AND MINIMA THERMOMETERS. =80. Rutherford's= arrangement for obtaining a complete instrument for the registration of heat and cold was simply mounting a maximum thermometer and a minimum thermometer upon the same frame or slab. Thus constructed, they are often called "day and night" thermometers, though somewhat inappropriately; for in temperate climates the temperature of the night sometimes exceeds that of the day, notwithstanding the reverse is the general law of temperature. Fig. 61 will explain the arrangement of Rutherford's day and night thermometer. [Illustration: Fig. 61.] =81. Sixe's Self-Registering Thermometer.=--The very ingenious and certainly elegant instrument about to be described was invented by James Sixe, of Colchester. It consists of a long cylindrical bulb, united to a tube of more than twice its length, bent round each side of it in the form of a syphon, and terminated in a smaller, oval-shaped bulb. Figure 62 gives a representation of this instrument. The lower portion of the syphon is filled with mercury; the long bulb, the other parts of the tube, and part of the small bulb, with highly rectified alcohol. A steel index moves in the spirit in each limb of the syphon. The two indices are terminated at top and bottom with a bead of glass, to enable them to move with the least possible friction, and without causing separation of the spirit, or allowing mercury to pass easily. They would, from their weight, always rest upon the mercury; but each has a fine hair tied to its upper extremity and bent against the interior of the tube, which acts as a spring with sufficient elasticity to keep the index supported in the spirit in opposition to gravity. [Illustration: Fig. 62.] The instrument acts as follows:--A rise of temperature causes the spirit in the long bulb to expand and press some of the mercury into the other limb of the syphon, into which it rises also from its own expansion, and carries the index with it, until the greatest temperature is attained. The lower end of this index then indicates upon the engraved scale the maximum temperature. As the temperature falls the spirit and the mercury contract, and in returning towards the bulb the second index is met and carried up by the mercury until the lowest temperature occurs, when it is left to indicate upon the scale the minimum temperature. The limb of the syphon adjoining the bulb requires, therefore, a descending scale of thermometric degrees; the other limb, an ascending scale. The graduations must be obtained by comparisons with a standard thermometer under artificial temperatures, which should be done in this way for every 5°, in order to correct for the inequality in the bore of the tube, and the irregular expansion of the spirit. The instrument is set for observation by bringing the indices into contact with the mercury, by means of a small magnet, which attracts the steel through the glass, so that it is readily drawn up or down. They should be drawn nearly to the top of the limbs when it is desired to remove the instrument, which should be carefully carried in the vertical position; for should it be inverted, or laid flat, the spirit may get among the mercury, and so break up the column as to require the skill of a maker to put it in order again. For transmission by ordinary conveyances, it requires that attention be given to keep it vertical. The entanglement of a small portion of mercury with the indices is sometimes a source of annoyance in this instrument, for the readings are thereby rendered somewhat incorrect. Small breakages in the mercury, either from intervening bubbles of spirit or adhesion to the indices, may generally be rectified by cautiously tapping the frame of the instrument, so as to cause the mercury to unite by the assistance thus given to its superior gravity. These thermometers, when carefully made and adjusted to a standard thermometer, are strongly recommended for ordinary purposes, where strict scientific accuracy is not required. This is also the only fluid thermometer applicable for determining the temperature of the sea at depths. CHAPTER VIII. RADIATION THERMOMETERS. =82. Solar and Terrestrial Radiation considered.=--The surface of the earth absorbs the heat of the sun during the day, and radiates heat into space during the night. The envelope of gases and vapour, which we call the atmosphere, exerts highly important functions upon these processes. Thanks to the researches of Professor Tyndall, we are now enabled to understand these functions much more clearly than heretofore. His elaborate, patient, and remarkably sagacious series of experiments upon radiant heat, have satisfactorily demonstrated that _dry_ air is as transparent to radiant heat as the vacuum itself; while air _perfectly saturated_ with aqueous vapour absorbs more than five per cent. of radiant heat, estimated by the thermal unit adopted for the galvanometer indications of the effect upon a thermo-electric pile. Aqueous vapour, in the form of fog or mist, as is well known, gives to our sensation a feeling of cold, and interferes with the healthy action of the skin and the lungs; the cause being its property of absorbing heat from our person. Air containing moisture in an invisible state likewise exerts a remarkable influence in radiating and absorbing heat. By reason of these properties, aqueous vapour acts as a kind of blanket upon the ground, and maintains upon it a higher temperature than it would otherwise have. "Regarding the earth as a source of heat, no doubt at least ten per cent. of its heat is intercepted within ten feet of the surface." Thus vapour--whether transparent and invisible, or visible, as cloud, fog, or mist--is intimately connected with the important operations of solar and terrestrial radiation. Cloudy, or humid days, diminish the effect upon the soil of solar radiation; similar nights retard the radiation from the earth. A dry atmosphere is the most favourable for the direct transmission of the sun's rays; and the withdrawal of the sun from any region over which the air is dry, must be followed by very rapid cooling of the soil. "The removal, for a single summer night, of the aqueous vapour from the atmosphere which covers England, would be attended by the destruction of every plant which a freezing temperature could kill. In Sahara, where 'the soil is fire and the wind is flame,' the refrigeration at night is often painful to bear. Ice has been formed in this region at night. In Australia, also, the _diurnal range_ of temperature is very great, amounting, commonly, to between 40 and 50 degrees. In short, it may be safely predicted, that wherever the air is _dry_, the daily thermometric range will be great. This, however, is quite different from saying that when the air is _clear_, the thermometric range will be great. Great clearness to light is perfectly compatible with great opacity to heat; the atmosphere may be charged with aqueous vapour while a deep blue sky is overhead; and on such occasions the terrestrial radiation would, notwithstanding the 'clearness,' be intercepted." The great range of the thermometer is attributable to the absence of that protection against gain or loss of heat which is afforded when aqueous vapour is present in the air; and during such weather the rapid abstraction of moisture from the surface of plants and animals is very deleterious to their healthy condition. "The nipping of tender plants by frost, even when the air of the garden is some degrees above the freezing temperature, is also to be referred to chilling by radiation." Hence the practice of gardeners of spreading thin mats, of bad radiating material, over tender plants, is often attended with great benefit. By means of the process of terrestrial radiation ice is artificially formed in Bengal, "where the substance is never formed naturally. Shallow pits are dug, which are partially filled with straw, and on the straw flat pans containing water which had been boiled is exposed to the clear firmament. The water is a very powerful radiant, and sends off its heat into space. The heat thus lost cannot be supplied from the earth--this source being cut off by the non-conducting straw. Before sunrise a cake of ice is formed in each vessel.... To produce the ice in abundance, the atmosphere must not only be clear, but it must be comparatively free from aqueous vapour." Considering, therefore, the important consequences attending both terrestrial and solar radiation, it appears to us that observations from radiation thermometers are of much more utility in judging of climate than is usually supposed. These observations are very scanty; and what few are upon record are not very reliable, principally from bad exposure of the instruments, while the want of uniformity in construction may be another cause. Herschell's actinometer and Pouillet's pyrheliometer, instruments for ascertaining the absolute heating effect of the sun's rays, should, however, be more generally employed by meteorologists. In comparing observations on radiation it should be kept in mind, that "the difference between a thermometer which, properly confined [or shaded], gives the true temperature of the night air, and one which is permitted to radiate freely towards space, must be greater at high elevations than at low ones;"[6] because the higher the place, the less the thickness of the vapour-screen to intercept the radiation. =83. Solar Radiation Thermometer.=--"As the interchange of heat between two bodies by radiation depends upon the relative temperature which they respectively possess, the earth, by the rays transmitted from the sun during the day, must be continually gaining an accession of heat, which would be far from being counterbalanced by the opposite effect of its own radiation into space. Hence, from sunrise till two or three hours after mid-day, the earth goes on gradually increasing in temperature, the augmentation being greatest where the surface consists of materials calculated, from their colour and texture, to absorb heat, and where it is deficient in moisture, which, by its evaporation, would have a tendency to diminish it."[7] It is, therefore, important to have instruments for measuring the efficacy of solar radiation, apart from those for exhibiting the temperature of the place in the shade. [Illustration: Fig. 63.] Fig. 63 shows the arrangement of Negretti & Zambra's maximum thermometer, for registering the greatest heat of the sun's direct rays, hence called a _solar radiation thermometer_. It has a blackened bulb, the scale divided on its own stem, and the divisions protected by a glass shield. In use it should be placed nearly horizontally, resting on Y supports of wood or metal, with its bulb in the full rays of the sun, resting on grass, and, if possible, so that lateral winds should not strike the bulb; and at a sufficient distance from any wall, so that it does not receive any _reflected_ heat from the sun. Some observers place the thermometer as much as two feet from the ground. It would be very desirable if one uniform plan could be recognized: that of placing the instrument as indicated in the figure appears to be most generally adopted, and the least objectionable. =84. Vacuum Solar Radiation Thermometer.=--In order that the heat absorbed by the blackened bulb of the solar radiation thermometer may not in part be carried off by the currents of air which would come into contact with it, the instrument has been improved by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra into the _vacuum solar radiation thermometer_, as illustrated by fig. 64. [Illustration: Fig. 64.] This consists of a blackened-bulb radiation thermometer, enclosed in a glass tube and globe, from which all air is exhausted. Thus protected from the loss of heat which would ensue if the bulb were exposed, its indications are from 20° to 30° higher than when placed side by side with a similar instrument with the bulb exposed to the passing air. At times when the air has been in rapid motion, the difference between the reading of a thermometer giving the true temperature of the air in the shade, and an ordinary solar radiation thermometer, has been 20° only, whilst the difference between the air temperature and the reading of a radiation thermometer in vacuo has been as large as 50°. It is also found that the readings are almost identical at distances from the earth varying from six inches to eighteen inches. By the use of this improvement, it is hoped that the amounts of solar radiation at different places may be rendered comparable; hitherto they have not been so; the results found at different places cannot be compared, as the bulbs of the thermometers are under very different circumstances as to exposure and currents of air. Important results are anticipated from this arrangement. The observations at different places are expected to present more agreement. Observers would do well to note carefully the effect of any remarkable degree of intensity in the solar heat upon particular plants, crops, fruit or other trees. =85. Terrestrial Radiation Thermometer= is an alcohol minimum thermometer, with the graduations etched upon the stem, and protected by a glass shield, as shown in figure 65, instead of being mounted on a frame. The bulb is transparent; that is to say, the spirit is not coloured. [Illustration: Fig. 65.] In use, it should be placed with its bulb fully exposed to the sky, resting on grass, the stem being supported by little forks of wood. The precautions required with this thermometer are similar to those for ordinary spirit thermometers, explained at page 76. [Illustration: Fig. 66.] =86. Æthrioscope.=--The celebrated experimental philosopher, Sir John Leslie, was the inventor of this instrument, the purpose of which is to give a comparative idea of the radiation proceeding from the surface of the earth towards the sky. It consists, as represented in fig. 66, of two glass bulbs united by a vertical glass tube, of so fine a bore that a little coloured liquid is supported in it by its own adhesion, there being air confined in each of the bulbs. The bulb, _A_, is enclosed in a highly polished brass sphere, _D_, made in halves and screwed together. The bulb, _B_, is blackened and placed in the centre of a metallic cup, _C_, which is well gilt on the inside, and which may be covered by a top, _F_. The brass coverings defend both bulbs from solar radiation, or any adventitious source of heat. When the top is on, the liquid remains at zero of the scale. On removing the top and presenting the instrument to a clear sky, either by night or by day, the bulb, _B_, is cooled by terrestrial radiation, while the bulb, _A_, retains the temperature of the air. The air confined in _B_, therefore, contracts; and the elasticity of that within _A_ forces the liquid up the tube, to a height proportionate to the intensity of the radiation. Such is the sensitiveness of the instrument, that the smallest cloud passing over it checks the rise of the liquid. Sir John Leslie says:--"Under a clear blue sky, the _æthrioscope_ will sometimes indicate a cold of fifty millesimal degrees; yet, on other days, _when the air seems equally bright_, the effect is hardly 30°." This anomaly, according to Dr. Tyndall, is simply due to the difference in the quantity of aqueous vapour present in the atmosphere. The presence of invisible vapour intercepts the radiation from the æthrioscope, while its absence opens a door for the escape of this radiation into space. =87. Pouillet's Pyrheliometer.=--"This instrument is composed of a shallow cylinder of steel, _A_, fig. 67, which is filled with mercury. Into the cylinder a thermometer, _D_, is introduced, the stem of which is protected by a piece of brass tubing. We thus obtain the temperature of the mercury. The flat end of the cylinder is to be turned towards the sun, and the surface, _B_, thus presented is coated with lamp black. There is a collar and screw, _C_, by means of which the instrument may be attached to a stake driven into the ground, or into the snow, if the observations are made at considerable heights. It is necessary that the surface which receives the sun's rays should be perpendicular to the rays; and this is secured by appending to the brass tube which shields the stem of the thermometer, a disk, _E_, of precisely the same diameter as the steel cylinder. When the shadow of the cylinder accurately covers the disk, we are sure that the rays fall, as perpendiculars, on the upturned surface of the cylinder. [Illustration: Fig. 67.] "The observations are made in the following manner:--First, the instrument is permitted, not to receive the sun's rays, but to radiate its own heat for five minutes against an unclouded part of the firmament; the decrease of the temperature of the mercury consequent on this radiation is then noted. Next, the instrument is turned towards the sun, so that the solar rays fall perpendicularly upon it for five minutes; the augmentation of heat is now noted. Finally, the instrument is turned again towards the firmament, away from the sun, and allowed to radiate for another five minutes, the sinking of the thermometer being noted as before. In order to obtain the whole heating power of the sun, we must add to his observed heating power the quantity lost during the time of exposure, and this quantity is the mean of the first and last observations. Supposing the letter _R_ to represent the augmentation of temperature by five minutes' exposure to the sun, and that _t_ and _t¹_ represent the reductions of temperature observed before and after, then the whole force of the sun, which we may call _T_, would be thus expressed:--_T = R + 1/2(t + t¹)_. "The surface on which the sun's rays here fall is known; the quantity of mercury within the cylinder is also known; hence we can express the effect of the sun's heat upon a given area, by stating that it is competent, in five minutes, to raise so much mercury so many degrees in temperature."--_Dr. Tyndall's "Heat considered as a Mode of Motion."_ [Illustration: Fig. 68.] =88. Sir John Herschell's Actinometer=, for ascertaining the absolute heating effect of the solar rays, in which _time_ is considered one of the elements of observation, is illustrated by fig. 68. The actinometer consists of a large cylindrical thermometer bulb, with a scale considerably lengthened, so that minute changes may be easily seen. The bulb is of transparent glass filled with a deep blue liquid, which is expanded when the rays of the sun fall direct on the bulb. To take an observation, the actinometer is placed in the shade for one minute and read off; it is then exposed for one minute to sunshine, and its indication recorded; it is finally restored to the shade, and its reading noted. The mean of the two readings in the shade, subtracted from that in the sun, gives the actual amount of expansion of the liquid produced by the sun's rays in one minute of time. For further information, see _Report of the Royal Society on Physics and Meteorology_; or _Kæmtz's Meteorology_, translated by C. V. Walker; or the _Admiralty Manual of Scientific Instructions_. CHAPTER IX. DEEP-SEA THERMOMETERS. =89. On Sixe's Principle.=--Thermometers for ascertaining the temperature of the sea at various depths are constructed to register either the maximum or minimum temperature, or both. The principle of each instrument is that of Sixe. There are very few parts of the ocean in which the temperature below is greater than at the surface, except in the Polar Seas, where it is generally found to be a few degrees warmer at considerable depths than at the surface. When the instrument is required to register only one temperature, it can be made narrower and more compact--a great advantage in sounding; and with less length of bulb and glass tube, so that the liability of error is diminished. Hence, the minimum is the most generally useful for deep-sea soundings. These thermometers must be sufficiently strong to withstand the pressure of the ocean at two or three miles of depth, where there may be a force exerted to compress them exceeding three or four hundred atmospheres (of 15 lbs. to the square inch). Many have been the contrivances for obtaining correct deep-sea indications. Thermometers and machines of various sorts have been suggested, adopted, and eventually abandoned as only approximate instruments. The principal reason for such instruments failing to give correct or reliable indications, has been that the weight or pressure on the bulbs at great depths has interfered with the correct reading of the instruments. Thermometers have been enclosed in strong water-tight cases to resist the pressure; but this contrivance has only had the tendency to retard the action, so much so as to throw a doubt on the indications obtained by the instrument so constructed. The thermometers constructed by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra for this purpose do not differ materially from those usually made under the denomination of Sixe's thermometers, except in the following most important particular:--The usual Sixe's thermometers have a central reservoir or cylinder containing alcohol; this reservoir, which is the only portion of the instrument likely to be affected by pressure, has been, in Negretti and Zambra's new instrument, superseded by a strong outer cylinder of glass, containing mercury and rarefied air; by this means the portion of the instrument susceptible of compression, has been so strengthened that no amount of pressure can possibly make the instrument vary. This instrument has been tested in every possible manner, and the results have been highly satisfactory, so much so as to place their reliability beyond any possible doubt. The scales are made of porcelain, and are firmly secured to a back of oak, which holds in a recess the bulb with its protecting shield, and is rounded off so as to fit easily and firmly in a stout cylindrical copper case, in which the thermometer is sent down when sounding (see fig. 69). The lid of the case is made to fit down closely, and water-tight. At the bottom of the case is a valve opening upward; and the lid has a similar valve. These allow the water to pass through the case as the instrument sinks, so that the least amount of obstruction is offered to the descent. At the lower end of the case is a stout brass spring, to protect the instrument from a sudden jar if it should touch the bottom while descending rapidly. As the instrument is drawn up, the valves close with the weight of water upon them, and it arrives at the surface filled with water brought up from its lowest position. The deep-sea thermometers used in the Royal Navy are of this pattern. [Illustration: Fig. 69.] =90. Johnson's Metallic Deep-Sea Thermometer.=--The objection to the employment of mercurial thermometers for ascertaining the temperature of the ocean at depths, arising from the compression of the bulbs, which was of such serious consequence previous to the modification made in the construction of the instrument by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra, led to the construction of a metallic thermometer altogether free from liability of disturbance from compression by the surrounding water; which, however, is certainly not so sensitive to changes of temperature as mercury. This instrument is the invention of Henry Johnson, Esq., F.R.A.S., and is thus described by him:-- "During the year 1844 some experiments were made by James Glaisher, Esq., F.R.S., on the temperature of the water of the Thames near Greenwich at the different seasons of the year; when that gentleman found that the indications of temperature were greatly affected by the pressure on the bulbs of the thermometers. At a depth of 25 feet this pressure would be nearly equal to the presence of three-fourths of an atmosphere. These observations demonstrate the importance of using in deep-sea soundings an instrument free from liability of disturbance from compression by the surrounding water, and have ultimately led to the construction of the thermometer now to be described. "The instrument is composed of solid metals of considerable specific gravity, viz. of brass and steel, the specific gravity of these metals being 8·39 and 7·81 respectively. They are therefore not liable to compression by the water, which under a pressure of 1,120 atmospheres, or at a depth of 5,000 fathoms in round numbers, acquires a density or specific gravity of 1·06. In the construction of this instrument, advantage has been taken of the well-known difference in the ratios of expansion and contraction by heat and cold of brass and steel, to form compound bars of thin bars of these metals riveted together; and which will be found to assume a slight curve in one direction when heat has expanded the brass more than the steel, and a slight one in the contrary direction when cold has contracted the brass more than the steel. "The indications of the instrument record the motions under changes of temperature of such compound bars; in which the proportion of brass, the more dilatable metal, is two-thirds, and of steel one-third. [Illustration: Fig. 70.] "Upon one end of a narrow plate of metal about a foot long, _a_, are fixed three scales of temperature, _h_, which ascend from 25° to 100° F., and which are shown more clearly in the drawing detached from the instrument. Upon one of these scales the present temperature is shown by the pointer, _e_, which turns upon a pivot in its centre. The register index, _g_, to the maximum temperature, and the index, _f_, to the minimum temperature, are moved along the other scales by the pin upon the moving pointer, at _e_, where they are retained by stiff friction. At equal distances from the centre of the pointer are two connecting pieces, _d d_, by which it is attached to the free ends of two compound bars, _b b_, and its movements correspond with the movements of the compound bars under variations of temperature. The other ends of the bars are fastened by the plate, _c_, to the plate, _a_, on which the scales of temperature are fixed. The connection of the bars with both sides of the centre of the pointer prevents disturbance of indication by lateral concussion. The case of the instrument has been improved at the suggestion of Admiral FitzRoy, and now presents to the water a smooth cylindrical surface, with rounded ends, and without projection of fastenings. "In surveying expeditions, this instrument would be found useful in giving notice of variation of depth of water, and of the necessity for taking soundings. A diminution of the temperature of water has been observed by scientific voyagers to accompany diminution of depth, as on nearing land, or approaching hidden rocks or shoals. Attention would also thus be attracted to the vicinity of icebergs." This thermometer might easily be modified to serve for several other important purposes, such as the determination of the temperature of intermittent hot springs, and mud volcanoes. [Illustration: Fig. 71.] The principle of this thermometer is not altogether new; but the duplicate arrangement of the bars, which effectually prevents the movement of the indices by any shaking, and the application are certainly novel. Professor Trail, in the _Library of Useful Knowledge_, writes:--"In 1803, Mr. James Crighton, of Glasgow, published a new 'metallic thermometer,' in which the unequal expansion of zinc and iron is the moving power. A bar is formed by uniting a plate of zinc (fig. 71), _c d_, 8 inches long, 1 inch broad, and 1/4 inch thick, to a plate of iron, _a b_, of the same length. The lower extremity of the compound bar is firmly attached to a mahogany board at _e e_; a pin, _f_, fixed to its upper end, plays in the forked opening in the short arm of the index, _g_. When the temperature is raised, the superior expansion of the zinc, _c d_, will bend the whole bar, as in the figure; and the index, _g_, will move along the graduated arc, from right to left, in proportion to the temperature. In order to convert it into a _register thermometer_, Crighton applied two slender hands, _h h_, on the axis of the index; these lie below the index, and are pushed in opposite directions by the stud, _i_,--a contrivance seemingly borrowed from the instrument of Fitzgerald," a complicated metallic thermometer, described by the Professor previously. CHAPTER X. BOILING-POINT THERMOMETERS. =91. Ebullition.=--The temperature at which a fluid _boils_ is called the _boiling-point_ of that particular fluid. It is different for different liquids; and, moreover, in the same liquid it varies with certain changes of circumstance. Thus the same liquid in various states of purity would have its boiling temperature altered in a slight degree. There is also an intimate connection with the pressure under which a fluid is boiled, and its temperature of ebullition. Liquids boiled in the open air are subjected to the atmospheric pressure, which is well known to vary at different times and places; and the boiling-point of the liquid exhibits corresponding changes. When the pressure is increased on the surface of any fluid, the temperature of ebullition rises; and with a decrease of pressure, the boiling goes on at a lower degree of heat. In the case of water, we commonly state the boiling-point to be 212° F.; but it is only so at the level of the sea, under the mean pressure of the atmosphere, represented, in the latitude of London, by a column of 29·905 inches of mercury, at a temperature of 32° F., and when the water is fresh and does not contain any matter chemically dissolved in it. When steam is generated and confined in a boiler, the pressure upon the boiling water may be several times greater than that of the atmosphere. Experimentally it has been found, that if the pressure in the boiler be 25 lbs. on the square inch, the temperature of the boiling water, and of the steam likewise, is raised to 241°; while under the exhausted receiver of an air-pump, water will boil at 185°, when the pressure is reduced to 17 inches of mercury. =92. Relation between the Boiling-Point and Elevation.=--Now, as the atmospheric pressure is diminished by ascent, as shown by the fall of mercury in the barometer, it follows that in elevated localities water, or any other fluid, heated in the open air, will boil at a temperature lower than at the sea-level. Therefore, there must be some relation between the height of a hill, or mountain, and the temperature at which a fluid will boil at that height. Hence, the thermometer, as used to determine the boiling-point of fluids, is also an indicator of the atmospheric pressure; and may be used as a substitute for the barometer in measuring elevations. If the atmospheric pressure were constant at the sea-level, and always the same for definite heights, we might expect the boiling-points of fluids also to be in exact accordance with height; and the relation once ascertained, we could readily, by means of the thermometer and boiling water, determine an unknown height, or for a known elevation assert the boiling temperature of a liquid. However, as the atmospheric pressure is perpetually varying at the same place, within certain limits, so there are, as it were, sympathetic changes in the boiling temperatures of fluids. It follows from this, that heights can never be accurately measured, either by the barometer or the boiling-point thermometer, by simply observing at the places whose elevations are required. To determine a height with any approach to accuracy, it is necessary that a similar observation should be made at the same time at a lower station, not very remote laterally from the upper, and that they should be many times repeated. When such observations have been very carefully conducted, the height of the upper station above the lower may be ascertained with great precision, as has been repeatedly verified by subsequent trigonometrical measurement of elevations so determined. If the lower station be at the sea-level, of course the absolute height of the upper is at once obtained. =93. Mountain Thermometer; sometimes called Hypsometric Apparatus.=--We have now to examine the construction of the boiling-point thermometer, and its necessary appendages, as adapted for the determination of heights. Messrs. Negretti and Zambra's arrangement of the instrument is shown in figures 72 and 73. [Illustration: Fig. 72.] [Illustration: Fig. 73.] The thermometer is made with an elongated bulb, so as to be as sensitive as possible. The scale, about a foot long, is graduated on the stem, and ranges from 180° to 214°, each degree being sufficiently large to show the divisions of tenths of a degree. A sliding metallic vernier might perhaps with advantage be attached to the stem, which would enable the observer to mark hundredths of a degree; which, however, he can pretty well do by estimation. The boiler is so contrived as to allow, not only the bulb, but the stem also of the thermometer, to be surrounded by the steam. The arrangement is readily understood by reference to the accompanying diagram, fig. 73. _C_, is a copper boiler, supported by a tripod stand so as to allow a spirit-lamp, _A_, made of metal to be placed underneath. The flame from the lamp may be surrounded by a fine wire gauze, _B_, which will prevent it being extinguished when experimenting in the external air. _E E E_, is a three-drawn telescope tube, proceeding from the boiler, and open also at top. Another tube, similarly constructed, envelops this, as shown by _D D D_. This tube is screwed to the top of the boiler, and has two openings, one at the top to admit the thermometer, the other low down, _G_, to give vent to the steam. As the steam is generated, it rises in the inner tube, passes down between the tubes, and flows away at _G_. The thermometer is passed down, supported by an india-rubber washer, fitting steam tight, so as to leave the top of the mercury, when the boiling-point is attained, sufficiently visible to make the observation. The telescopic movement, and the mode of supporting the thermometer, enable the observer always to keep the bulb near the water, and the double tube gives all the protection required to obtain a steady boiling-point. Some boiling-point thermometers are constructed with their scales altogether exposed to the air, which may be very cold, and consequently may contract to some extent the thread of mercury outside the boiler. The steam, having the same temperature as the boiling water, keeps the tube, throughout nearly its whole length, at the same degree of heat, in the apparatus described. The whole can be packed in a tin case very compactly and securely for travelling, as in fig. 72. _Directions for Using._--When the apparatus is required for practical use, sufficient water must be poured into the boiler to fill it about one third, through an opening, _F_, which must be afterwards closed by the screw plug. Then apply the lighted lamp. In a short time steam will issue from _G_; and the mercury in the thermometer, kept carefully immersed, will rise rapidly until it attains a stationary point, which is the boiling temperature. The observation should now be taken and recorded with as much accuracy as possible, and the temperature of the external air must be noted at the same time by an ordinary thermometer. The water employed should be pure. Distilled water would therefore be the best. If a substance is held mechanically suspended in water, it will not affect the boiling-point. Thus, muddy water would serve equally as well as distilled water. However, as it cannot be readily ascertained that nothing is dissolved chemically when water is dirty, we are only correct when we employ pure water. =94. Precautions to ensure correct Graduation.=--Those who possess a boiling-point thermometer should satisfy themselves that it has been correctly graduated. To do this, it is advisable to verify it with the reading of a standard barometer reduced to 32° F. The table of "Vapour Tension" (given at p. 62) will furnish the means of comparison. Thus, if the reduced reading of the barometer, corrected also for latitude, be 29·922, the thermometer should show 212° as the boiling-point of water at the same time and place; if 29·745, the thermometer should read 211·7; and so on as per table. In this way the error of the chief point of the scale can be obtained. Other parts of the scale may be checked with a standard thermometer, by subjecting both to the same temperature, and comparing their indications. The graduations as fixed by some makers are not always to be trusted; and this essential test should be conducted with the utmost nicety and care. Admiral FitzRoy writes, in his _Notes on Meteorology_:--"Each degree of the boiling-point thermometer is equivalent to about 550 _feet of ascent_, or one-tenth to 55 feet; therefore, the smallest error in the graduation of the thermometer itself will affect the height deduced materially. "In the thermometer which is graduated from 212° (the boiling-point) to 180°, similarly to those intended for the purpose of measuring heights, there must have been a starting point, or zero, from which to begin the graduation. I have asked an optician in London how he fixed that zero, the boiling-point. 'By boiling water at my house,' he replied. 'Where is your house?' In such a part of the town, he answered. I said: 'What height is it above the sea?' to which he replied, 'I do not know;' and when I asked the state of the barometer when he boiled the water, whether the mercury was high or low, he said that he had not looked at it! Now, as this instrument is intended to measure heights and to decide differences of some hundred, if not thousand feet upwards, at least one should endeavour to ascertain a reliable starting point. From inquiries made, I believe that the determination of the boiling-point of ordinary thermometers has been very vague, not only from the extreme difficulties of the process itself (which are well known to opticians), but from the radical errors of not allowing for the pressure of the atmosphere at the time of graduation--which may be much, even an inch higher or lower, than the mean, or any _given height_--while the elevation of the place above the level of the sea is also unnoticed. Then there is another source of error, a minor one, perhaps: the inner limit, the 180° point, is fixed only by comparison with another thermometer; it may be right, or it may be very much out, as may be the intermediate divisions; for the difficulty of ascertaining degree by degree is great: and it must be remembered that the measurement of a very high mountain depends upon those inner degrees from 200° down to 180°, thereabouts. Hence, the difficulty of making a reliable observation by boiling water seems to be greater than has been generally admitted." =95. Method of Calculating Heights from Observations with the Mountain Thermometer.=--Having considered how to make observations with the proper care and accuracy, it becomes necessary to know how to deduce the height by calculation. That a constant intimate relation exists between the boiling temperature of water and the pressure of the air, we have already learned. This knowledge is the result of elaborate experiments made by several scientific experimentalists, who have likewise constructed formulæ and tables for the conversion of the boiling temperatures into the corresponding pressures of vapour, or, which is equivalent, of the atmosphere, when the operation is performed in the open air. As might be expected, there is not a perfect accord in the results arrived at by different persons. Regnault is the most recent, and his experiments are considered the most reliable. From Regnault's table of vapour tension, we can obtain the pressure in inches of mercury at 32°, which corresponds to the observed boiling-point; or _vice versa_, if required. From the pressure, the height may be deduced by the method for finding heights by means of the barometer. The following table expresses very nearly the elevation in feet corresponding to a fall of 1° in the temperature of boiling water:-- Boiling Temperatures Elevation in Feet between. for each Degree. 214° and 210-- 520 210 and 200-- 530 200 and 190 550 190 and 180 570 These numbers agree very well with the results of theory and actual observation. The assumption is that the boiling-point will be diminished 1° for each 520 feet of ascent until the temperature becomes 210°, then 530 feet of elevation will lower it one degree until the water boils at 200°, and so on; the air being at 32°. Let _H_ represent the vertical height in feet between two stations; _B_ and _b_, the boiling-points of water at the lower and upper stations respectively; _f_, the factor found in the above table. Then _H_ = _f_(_B_ - _b_) Further, let _m_ be the mean temperature of the stratum of air between the stations. Now, if the mean temperature is less than 32°, the column of air will be shorter; and if greater, longer than at 32°. According to Regnault, air expands 1/491·13 or ·002036 of its volume at 32°, for each degree increase of heat. Calling the correction due to the mean temperature of air _C_, its value will be found from the equation, _C_ = _H_ (_m_ - 32) ·002036 Calling the corrected height _H'_, it will be found from the formula, _H'_ = _H_ + _H_ (_m_ - 32) ·002036 that is, _H'_ = _H_ { 1 + (_m_ - 32) ·002036 } and substituting the value of _H_, _H'_ = _f_(_B_ - _b_) { 1 + (_m_ - 32) ·002036 } Strictly, according to theoretical considerations, there is a correction due to latitude, as in the determination of heights by the barometer; but its value is so small that it is practically of no importance. If a barometer be observed at one of the stations, the table of vapour tensions (p. 62) will be useful in converting the pressure into the corresponding boiling-point, or _vice versa_; so that the difference of height may be found either by the methods employed for the boiling-point thermometer or the barometer. In conclusion, it may be remarked that observers who have good instruments at considerable elevations, as sites on mountains or plateaus, would confer a benefit to science, by registering for a length of time the barometer along with the boiling temperature of water, as accurately as possible. Such observations would serve to verify the accuracy of theoretical deductions, and fix with certainty the theoretical scale with the barometer indications. _Example, in calculating Heights from the Observations of the Boiling-point of Water._--1. At Geneva the observed boiling-point of water was 209°·335; on the Great St. Bernard it was 197°·64; the mean temperature of the intermediate air was 63°·5; required the height of the Great St. Bernard above Geneva. Method by formula:-- _H'_ = _f_ (_B_ - _b_) { 1 + (_m_ - 32°) ·002036 } In this case _f_ is between 530 and 550, or 540. _B_ = 209·335 _m_ = 63·5 _b_ = 197·64 32 ------- ----- 11·695 31·5 _f_ = 540 ·002036 ------- --------- 6315·3 0·0641340 1·064 1 ------- ----- _H'_ = 6719·5 feet. 1·064 ====== Method by Tables supplied with boiling-point apparatus made by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra:-- 209·335 gives 1464 in Table I. 197·64 " 7736 " ---- 6272 63·5 " 1·07 in Table II. ---- Height 6711 ==== =96. Thermometers for Engineers.=--_1st. Salinometer._--Under the circumstances at which fresh water boils at 212°, sea water boils at 213°·2. The boiling temperature is raised by the chemical solution of any substance in the water, and the more with the increase of matter dissolved. From a knowledge of this principle, marine engineers make use of the thermometer to determine the amount of salts held in solution by the water in the boilers of sea-going steamers. Common sea-water contains 1/33 of its volume of salt and other earthy matters. As evaporation proceeds, the solution becomes proportionally stronger, and more heat is required to produce steam. The following table from the work of Messrs. Main and Brown, on the Marine Steam-Engine, shows the relation between the boiling-point under the mean pressure of the atmosphere, or 80 inches of mercury, and the proportion of matter dissolved in the water:-- Proportion of Salt in 100 parts of water 0 Boiling-point 212° " " 1/33 " 213·2 " " 2/33 " 214·4 " " 3/33 " 215·5 " " 4/33 " 216·6 " " 5/33 " 217·9 " " 6/33 " 219·0 " " 7/33 " 220·2 " " 8/33 " 221·4 " " 9/33 " 222·5 " " 10/33 " 223·7 " " 11/33 " 224·9 " " 12/33 " 226·0 When the salts in solution amount to 12/33, the water is saturated. It has also been ascertained that, when a solution of 4/33 is attained, incrustation of the substances commences on the boiler. Hence, it is a rule with engineers to expel some of the boiling water, when the thermometer indicates a temperature of 216°, and introduce some more cold water, in order to prevent incrustation, which not only injures the boiler, but opposes the passage of heat to the water. The thermometer used for this purpose should be very accurately graduated, and the scale must be considerably higher than, though it need not read much below 212°. _2nd. Pressure Gauge._--The elasticity of gases augments by increase of temperature, and _vice versa_; it follows, therefore, that when steam is generated in a closed boiler, its temperature rises beyond the boiling temperature of 212°, owing to the increased pressure upon the water. The law connecting the pressure and the corresponding temperature of steam is the same as that upon which the boiling of fluids under diminished atmospheric pressure takes place. Hence, the indications of the thermometer become exponents of steam pressure. Engineers are furnished, in works on the steam-engine, with tables, from which the pressure corresponding to a given temperature, or the converse, can be obtained by mere inspection. [Illustration: Fig. 74.] Fig. 74 represents the thermometer employed as a steam-pressure gauge. It is fitted in a brass case, with screw-plug and washers for closing the boiler when the thermometer is not in use. The scale shows the pressure corresponding to the temperature, from 15 to 120 lbs., above the atmospheric pressure, which is usually taken as 15 lbs. on the square inch. CHAPTER XI. INSTRUMENTS FOR ASCERTAINING THE HUMIDITY OF THE AIR. =97. Hygrometric Substances.=--The instruments devised for the purpose of ascertaining the humidity of the atmosphere are termed _hygrometers_. The earliest invented hygrometers were constructed of substances readily acted upon by the vapour in the air, such as hair, grass, seaweed, catgut, &c., which all absorb moisture, and thereby increase in length, and when deprived of it by drying they contract. Toy-like hygrometers, upon the principle of absorption, are still common as ornaments for mantel-pieces. A useful little instrument of this class, formed from the beard of the wild oat, is made to resemble a watch in external appearance, and is designed to prove the dampness or dryness of beds: a moveable hand points out on the dial the hygrometric condition of the clothes upon which the instrument is laid. =98. Saussure's Hygrometer=, formerly used as a meteorologic instrument, but now regarded as an ornamental curiosity, is represented in fig. 75. Its action depends upon a prepared hair, fixed at one end to the frame of the instrument, and wound round a pulley at the other. The pulley carries a pointer which has a counterpoise sufficient to keep the hair stretched. By this means the shrinking and lengthening of the hair cause the pointer to traverse a graduated arc indicating the relative humidity. [Illustration: Fig. 75.] Such instruments, however ingenious, are not of scientific value; because they do not admit of rigid comparison, are liable to alter in their contractile and expansive properties, and cannot be made to indicate precisely alike. =99. Dew-Point.=--The amount of water which the air can sustain in an invisible form increases with the temperature; but for every definite temperature there is a limit to the amount of vapour which can be thus diffused. When the air is cooled, the vapour present may be more than it can sustain; part will then be condensed as dew, rain, hail or snow, according to the meteorologic circumstances. The temperature which the air has when it is so fully saturated with vapour that any excess will be deposited as dew, is called the _dew-point_. =100. Drosometer.=--"To measure the quantity of dew deposited each night, an instrument is used called a _Drosometer_. The most simple process consists in exposing to the open air bodies whose exact weight is known, and then weighing them afresh after they are covered with dew. According to Wells, locks of wool, weighing about eight grains, are to be preferred, which are to be divided [formed] into spherical masses of the diameter of about two inches."--_Koemtz._ =101. Humidity.=--The proportion existing between the amount of vapour actually present in the air at any time, and the quantity necessary to completely saturate it, is called _the degree of humidity_. It is usually expressed in a centesimal scale, 0 being perfect dryness, and 100 complete saturation. The pressure, or tension, of vapour at the dew-point temperature, divided by the tension of vapour at the air temperature and the quotient multiplied by 100, gives the degree of humidity. (Regnault's Tables should be used.) Hence the utility of instruments for determining the dew-point. =102. Leslie's Hygrometer.=--This instrument consists of a glass syphon tube, terminated with a bulb or ball at each end, turned outwards from each other, as in fig. 76. The tube is partly filled with concentrated sulphuric acid, tinged by carmine. One of the balls is covered smoothly with fine muslin, and is kept continually moistened with pure water, drawn from a vase placed near it by the capillary attraction of a few strands of clean cotton-wick. The descent of the coloured liquid in the other stem will mark the diminution of temperature caused by the evaporation of the water from the humid surface. The drier the ambient air is, the more rapidly will the evaporation go on; and the cold produced will be greater. When the air is nearly saturated with moisture, the evaporation goes on slowly; the cold produced is moderate, because the ball regains a large portion of its lost heat from surrounding bodies; and the degree of refrigeration of the ball is an index of the dryness of the air. [Illustration: Fig. 76.] "Should the water become frozen on the ball, this hygrometer will still act; for evaporation goes on from the surface of ice in proportion to the dryness of the air. Leslie estimates, that when the ball is moist, air, at the temperature of the ball, will take up moisture equal to the sixteen-thousandth part of its weight, for each degree of his hygrometer; and as ice in melting requires one-seventh of the caloric consumed in converting water into vapour, when the ball is frozen, the hygrometer will sink more than when wet by 1° in 7°; and hence, in the frozen state, we must increase the value of the degrees one-seventh: so that each of them will correspond to an absorption of moisture equal to one-fourteen-thousandth part of the weight of the air. "When this hygrometer stands at 15°, the air feels damp; from 30° to 40°, we reckon it dry; from 50° to 60°, very dry; and from 70° upwards, we should call it intensely dry. A room would feel uncomfortable, and would probably be unwholesome, if the instrument in it did not reach 30°.[8] In thick fogs it keeps almost at the beginning of the scale. In winter, in our climate, it ranges from 5° to 15°; in summer often from 15° to 55°; and sometimes attains 80° or 90°. The greatest degree of dryness ever noticed by Leslie was at Paris, in the month of September, when the hygrometer indicated 120°."--_Professor Trail, in "Library of Useful Knowledge."_ In estimating the value of the indications of this hygrometer, it should be borne in mind that the scale adopted by Leslie was _millesimal_, that is to say, from the freezing to the boiling-point of water was divided into a thousand parts; ten millesimal degrees are therefore equal to one of the scale of Celsius. 103. DANIEL'S HYGROMETER. This instrument was invented about the year 1820, by Professor Daniel, the distinguished author of _Meteorological Essays_; and it entirely superseded all hygrometers depending upon the absorption of moisture. The form of the instrument is shown in fig. 77. [Illustration: Fig. 77.] It consists of a glass tube, about one-eighth of an inch in diameter of bore, bent twice at right angles, and terminated, at each end, in a bulb about one inch and a quarter in diameter. In one limb of the tube is enclosed a delicate thermometer, which descends to the centre of the adjoining bulb, which is about three-parts filled with sulphuric ether. All the other parts of the tube are carefully freed from air, so that they are occupied by the vapour of the ether. This bulb is generally made of black glass; the other is transparent, but covered with a piece of fine muslin. The support for the tube has a thermometer attached, which shows the temperature of the external air. The tube can be removed from the stand, and the parts are made to pack, with a necessary phial of ether, in a small box, which can easily be got into the pocket. _How to use the Hygrometer._--This instrument gives the dew-point by direct observation, which must be made in the following manner:--Having fixed the tube upon the stand, with the bulbs vertically downward, the ether is all caused to flow into the lower ball by inclining the tube. The temperature of the air is noted by the exposed thermometer. Then some ether is poured, from a dropping tube fitting into the neck of the phial, upon the muslin-covered bulb. The rapid evaporation of this ether cools the bulb and causes condensation of the ethereal vapour in its interior. This gives rise to rapid evaporation of the ether in the lower bulb, whereby its temperature is greatly reduced. The air in the vicinity is deprived of its warmth by the cold bulb, and is soon cooled to the temperature at which it is perfectly saturated with the vapour which it contains. Cooled ever so little below this temperature, some aqueous vapour will be condensed, and will form a dew upon the black-glass bulb. At the first indication of the deposit of dew the reading of the internal thermometer is taken: which is the dew-point. This hygrometer has undeniable disadvantages. The surface upon which the dew condenses is small, and requires a peculiar direction of light in which to see it well. The observer, having his attention on the bulb and the thermometer, cannot always fix with precision the dew-point; and hence he is recommended to note the temperature at the appearance and at the disappearance of the dew, in order that the chance of error may be diminished. Without doubt, the necessarily long continuance of the observer near the instrument influences, to some extent, the observed temperatures; and the difficulty of not being always able to procure pure ether for the experiments is not the least of the drawbacks to the use of the instrument. Some of these disadvantages are obviated in Regnault's hygrometer. 104. REGNAULT'S CONDENSER HYGROMETER (Fig. 78) consists of a tube, _C_, made of silver, very thin, and perfectly polished; the tube is larger at one end than the other, the large part being 1·8 inches in depth, by 0·8 in diameter; this is fitted tightly to a brass stand, _B_, with a telescopic arrangement for adjusting when making an observation. [Illustration: Fig. 78.] The tube, _C_, has a small lateral tubulure, to which is attached an India-rubber tube, with ivory mouth-piece; this tubulure enters _C_ at right angles near the top, and traverses it to the bottom of the largest part. A delicate thermometer, _D_, is inserted through a cork, or India-rubber washer, at the open end of the tube, _C_, the bulb of which descends to the centre of its largest part. _G_ is an attached thermometer for taking the temperature of the air, and _F_ is a bottle containing ether. _To use the Condenser Hygrometer_, a sufficient quantity of ether is poured into the silver tube to cover the thermometer bulb: on allowing air to pass bubble by bubble through the ether, by breathing in the tube, _E_, an uniform temperature will be obtained; if the ether continues to be agitated, by breathing briskly through the tube a rapid reduction of temperature will be the result; at the moment the ether is cooled down to the dew-point temperature, the external surface of that portion of the silver tube containing ether will become covered with a coating of moisture, and the degree shown by the thermometer at that instant will be the temperature of the dew-point. This form of hygrometer, for ascertaining by direct observation the dew-point, is so superior to Daniell's, both from its being more certain in its indications and economical in use, that Messrs. Negretti and Zambra have been induced to modify it, and reduce its price to little more than that of a good Daniell's Hygrometer. =105. Temperature of Evaporation.=--When the air is not saturated with vapour, evaporation is going on with more or less activity, according as the temperature is high or low, rising or falling. Now vapour cannot be formed without an expenditure of heat; as we invariably find that the process of evaporation lowers the temperature of the liquid from which the vapour is produced, and, by communication, that of contiguous substances also. Thus the emigrant, crossing the line under the scorching influence of the vertical sun, wraps a wet towel round his can of water, swings it in the breeze, to evaporate the moisture of the towel, and obtains a glass of cool water. So also, European residents in India, during the hot season, spread out mats in their apartments, and keep them wet, in order that the evaporation may cool the air. This principle has been applied, for the purpose of ascertaining the hygrometric condition of the air, in the instrument known as Mason's hygrometer, or psychrometer, which is now in general use, from its simplicity, accuracy, and ease of observing. 106. MASON'S HYGROMETER. =The Dry and Wet Bulb Hygrometer, or Psychrometer=, known also as Mason's hygrometer (fig. 79), consists of two parallel thermometers, as nearly identical as possible, mounted on a wooden bracket, one marked _dry_, the other _wet_. The bulb of the wet thermometer is covered with thin muslin, and round the neck is twisted a conducting thread of lamp-wick, which passes into a vessel of water, placed at such a distance as to allow a length of conducting thread, of about three inches; the cup or glass is placed on one side, and a little beneath, so that the water within may not affect the reading of the _dry bulb thermometer_. In observing, the eye should be placed on a level with the top of the mercury in the tube, and the observer should refrain from breathing whilst taking an observation. [Illustration: Fig. 79.] The _dry_ bulb thermometer indicates the temperature of the air itself; while the wet bulb, cooled by evaporation, shows a lower temperature according to the rapidity of evaporation. _To find the Dew-point._--From the readings of the two thermometers, the dew-point can be deduced by formulæ (that known as Apjohn's is considered the most theoretically true), or from the valuable Hygrometric Tables by J. Glaisher, Esq., F.R.S. For practical purposes in estimating the comparative humidity, the annexed table, which is a reduction from Mr. Glaisher's elaborate work, will be sufficient; it will at least serve to assist in familiarising the inexperienced in the value of the psychrometer's indications:-- +------------------------------------------+ | | Difference between Dry-bulb | | | and Wet-bulb Readings. | |Temperature |-----------------------------| | by the | 2° | 4° | 6° | 8° | 10°| 12°| | Dry Bulb |-----------------------------| |Thermometer.| Degree of Humidity. | |------------------------------------------| | 34° | 79 | 63 | 50 | .. | .. | .. | | 36 | 82 | 66 | 53 | .. | .. | .. | | 38 | 83 | 68 | 56 | 45 | .. | .. | | 40 | 84 | 70 | 58 | 47 | .. | .. | | 42 | 84 | 71 | 59 | 49 | .. | .. | | 44 | 85 | 72 | 60 | 50 | .. | .. | | 46 | 86 | 73 | 61 | 51 | .. | .. | | 48 | 86 | 73 | 62 | 52 | 44 | .. | | 50 | 86 | 74 | 63 | 53 | 45 | .. | | 52 | 86 | 74 | 64 | 54 | 46 | .. | | 54 | 86 | 74 | 64 | 55 | 47 | .. | | 56 | 87 | 75 | 65 | 56 | 48 | .. | | 58 | 87 | 76 | 66 | 57 | 49 | .. | | 60 | 88 | 76 | 66 | 58 | 50 | 43 | | 62 | 88 | 77 | 67 | 58 | 50 | 44 | | 64 | 88 | 77 | 67 | 59 | 51 | 45 | | 66 | 88 | 78 | 68 | 60 | 52 | 45 | | 68 | 88 | 78 | 68 | 60 | 52 | 46 | | 70 | 88 | 78 | 69 | 61 | 53 | 47 | | 72 | 89 | 79 | 69 | 61 | 54 | 48 | | 74 | 89 | 79 | 70 | 62 | 55 | 48 | | 76 | 89 | 79 | 71 | 63 | 55 | 49 | | 78 | 89 | 79 | 71 | 63 | 56 | 50 | | 80 | 90 | 80 | 71 | 63 | 56 | 50 | | 82 | 90 | 80 | 72 | 64 | 57 | 51 | | 84 | 90 | 80 | 72 | 64 | 57 | 51 | | 86 | 90 | 80 | 72 | 64 | 58 | 52 | +------------------------------------------+ The total quantity of aqueous vapour which at any temperature can be diffused in the air being represented by 100, the per-centage of vapour actually present will be found in the table opposite the temperature of the dry thermometer, and under the difference between the dry-bulb and wet-bulb temperatures. The degree of humidity for intermediate temperatures and differences to those given in the table can be easily estimated sufficiently accurately for most practical purposes. The difference between the two thermometer readings taken from the reading of the wet bulb, gives the dew-point very nearly, when the air is at any temperature between freezing and 80°. This simple rule will be found serviceable to horticulturists, since it will enable them to estimate the chilling effect of dew or hoar-frost on tender plants. _Use as an Indicator of Weather._--In our climate, the usual difference between the thermometer readings,--in the open air, shaded from the sun, reflected heat, and currents of air,--ranges from one to twelve degrees. In hot and dry climates, as India and Australia, the range out of doors has been found as much as 30°, occasionally. When the moisture is frozen, the bulb should be wetted afresh, and the reading taken just before it again freezes; but the observation then is of little value, and for general purposes need not be taken, as the air is known to be dry in frosty weather. The muslin or cotton rag should be washed once or twice a week by pouring water over the bulb; and it should be replaced by a fresh piece at least once a month. Accuracy depends very much upon keeping the wet bulb clean, and not _too_ wet. In connection with the barometer, this hygrometer is very useful, not only on land, but especially at sea, where other kinds of hygrometers cannot be practically used. A fall in the barometer is indicative of coming wind or rain: if the hygrometer shows increasing dampness by the difference of the readings becoming smaller,--rain may therefore be anticipated. On the contrary, if the hygrometer shows continuing or increasing dryness, a stronger wind is probable, without rain. _Domestic Uses._--Mason's hygrometer is useful in regulating the moisture of the air of apartments; a difference in the thermometer readings of from 5° to 8° being considered healthy. Many complaints require that the temperature and humidity of the air which the invalid breathes should be carefully regulated. Hence it is a valuable household instrument. In a room, it should be placed away from the fire as much as possible, but not exposed to draughts of air. Figs. 80 and 81 show cheap arrangements of the instrument for domestic purposes. Other arrangements are given to the instrument to make it suitable for exhibiting the hygrometrical state of the air in hot-houses, conservatories, malting-houses, warehouses, manufactories, &c. [Illustration: Fig. 80.] [Illustration: Fig. 81.] [Illustration: Fig. 82.] Fig. 82 shows the instrument arranged on brass tripod stand, with folding legs and metal cover, to render it portable. =107. Self-Registering Hygrometer.=--A maximum thermometer and a minimum thermometer, each fitted up as a wet-bulb thermometer, record the highest and lowest temperature of evaporation during the interval of observation. Negretti's mercurial maximum, and an alcohol minimum, answer best. =108. Causes of Dew.=--"The aqueous vapour of our atmosphere is a powerful radiant; but it is diffused through air which usually exceeds its own mass more than one hundred times. Not only, then, its own heat, but the heat of the large quantity of air which surrounds it, must be discharged by the vapour, before it can sink to its point of condensation. The retardation of chilling due to this cause enables good solid radiators, at the earth's surface, to outstrip the vapour in their speed of refrigeration; and hence, upon these bodies, aqueous vapour may be condensed to liquid, or even congealed to hoar-frost, while at a few feet above the surface it still maintains its gaseous state."[9] The amount of moisture so deposited will vary with different atmospheric conditions. If the sky be decidedly cloudy or misty, the heat radiated from the earth will be partly restored by counter-radiation from the visible vapour; the cooling of the earth's surface will, therefore, take place slowly, and little dew will be deposited. On the other hand, if the air contain transparent vapour, and the sky appear clear, the counter-radiation will be less, the earth will cool rapidly, and the deposit of dew will be copious; provided the night be comparatively calm, for, when the wind blows, the circulating air supplies heat to the radiating substances, and prevents any considerable chilling. The dew which falls in tropical countries greatly exceeds in abundance what we experience in our climate; because the air is there, from the great heat, capable of sustaining a large amount of vapour in the transparent state, and the conditions most favourable for a maximum reduction of temperature by radiation are present. At those places, or upon those substances which cool the lowest and most readily, the dew falls most copiously. [Illustration: Fig. 83.] =109. Plan of Exposing Thermometers=, &c.--Figure 83 is an illustration of a convenient slab for supporting thermometers in an exposed position attached to a stand (such as Glaisher's, described in Chapter XVI.) for ordinary scientific observations. It has a projecting ledge, _B_, to carry off rain from the instruments, the slab, _A_, being erected vertically. The hygrometer is placed at _E_, with the vase of water at _F_. An alcohol minimum thermometer is represented at _C_, in the position most favourable to its certain action; and at _D_ is shown one of Negretti & Zambra's maximum thermometers, the position of which may be more nearly horizontal than there exhibited, although a slight depression of the bulb-end of the frame is desirable, but not necessary, as this thermometer can be used in any position. CHAPTER XII. INSTRUMENTS USED FOR MEASURING THE RAINFALL. The instruments in use for measuring the quantity of rain which falls on a given spot are of very simple construction. Perhaps the simplest is:-- =110. Howard's Rain-Gauge.=--It consists of a copper funnel, a stout glass or stone bottle, and a measuring glass. The bottle is to be placed upon the ground, with the funnel resting on its neck. A brass band or cylinder fixed upon the outer surface of the funnel envelops the neck of the bottle, and the pipe of the funnel extends nearly to the bottom of the bottle; so that loss by evaporation is avoided as much as possible. The receiving space of the funnel is formed by a brass ring, five inches in diameter, very accurately turned. The measuring vessel enables the observer to note the rainfall in inches, tenths, and hundredths of an inch. [Illustration: Fig. 84.] =111. Glaisher's Rain-Gauge.=--The rain-gauge designed by Mr. Glaisher, the well-known meteorologist, and used by most observers of the present day, is arranged for the reception of the water which falls upon its receiving surface only, and for the prevention of loss by evaporation. The rain is first collected in a funnel, _B_, (fig. 84,) the receiving surface of which is turned in a lathe. The conical surface of the funnel slopes to the pipe, _E_, at an angle of 60° from the horizontal receiving surface. The tube, _E_, is of small aperture, and is bent up, in order to retain the last few drops of rain, so that the only opening for the escape of vapour may be closed as long as possible. The funnel, _B_, fits upon the cylinder, _A_, tightly in the groove, _D_. A copper can is placed inside the cylinder, _A_, to receive the rain from the funnel. Once or twice a day, or after a shower, this can should be taken out, and the water measured in the glass measure, _C_, which is graduated to hundredths of an inch, according to the calculated quantity of water, determined by the area of the receiving space. In use, this gauge should be partly sunk in the ground, so that the top may be about five inches above it. Thus situated, there will be little or no evaporation from it during any month of the year; and the readings need not be taken daily, although desirable. =112. Rain-Gauge with Float.=--In this construction the graduated glass measure is dispensed with. The cylinder of the gauge is made less in diameter than the funnel, and a hollow, very flattened spheroid of copper forming a float, and carrying a vertical graduated boxwood scale which moves through the orifice of the funnel, is placed in it. As the rain accumulates the float rises, and the amount of rain in the gauge is read upon the scale from the top of the gauge, a bar, having a hole at the centre for the passage of the scale, being fixed diametrically across the receiving space of the funnel. The gauge is provided at the bottom with a brass cock, by which the water may be allowed to flow out of it whenever necessary. This form of gauge is not very suitable for the measurement of small quantities; but is admirably adapted for localities where the rainfall is excessive. [Illustration: Fig. 85.] =113. Rain-Gauge with Side-Tube.=--This instrument, as represented in fig. 85, is a cylindrical vessel, mounted on a base shaped as a frustum of a cone. This base may be filled with sand or gravel to make the instrument stable, so that when placed upon a lawn or in a garden it may have an ornamental appearance. The funnel for collecting the rain is larger in diameter than the cylinder. Parallel to the cylinder, and communicating with the lowest part of the interior and extending to its top, is a graduated glass tube, open at both ends. The rain collected will rise as high in this tube as in the cylinder, and its amount can therefore be read off without any trouble. The gauge is emptied by the brass tap at the bottom of the cylinder. =114. Admiral FitzRoy's Rain-Gauge.=--A form of rain-gauge, very well adapted for expeditious observation at any time, has been designed by Admiral FitzRoy, and extensively employed by his observers. It is cylindrical in shape, with the funnel let into the top; and the rainfall is collected in an inner and much smaller cylinder, so that a small fall is represented by a considerable depth of water in the gauge. The amount of rain which has fallen is ascertained by a dipping tube, similar in principle to the dipping syphon used by gaugers for taking out specimens of wines or spirits from casks by simply removing the bung. A short, vertical, tubular opening provided with a cap, which is attached to the instrument by a chain that it may not be lost, is formed in the funnel. The measuring tube, which has a small hole at each end, should be placed upright in the gauge; then the thumb should be pressed over the upper aperture, while the tube is lifted gently out, holding in the lower part a quantity of water representing the depth of the rain in the gauge, the upper edge of which is at the mark to be read off. The glass tube is graduated to inches and tenths; hundredths of an inch can be readily estimated by the eye. The marks are fixed by actual trial with a standard gauge, and are artificial, not true, inches. =115. Self-Registering Rain-Gauge.=--The rain-gauge can be combined with clock-work and other mechanism so as to be self-recording of the amount of rain, the time, and duration of its fall. For the details of construction the reader is referred to the next chapter, where he will find the instrument described in connection with Osler's anemometer, as the "pluviometer." To observe and duly record the times of commencement and termination of rain is very desirable. Scarcely any observer can attempt to do this even approximately from personal observation. Hence the want of a cheap and simple self-recording rain-gauge is much felt, the present construction being too expensive for all but a few individuals. In 1862, Mr. R. Strachan estimated the duration and amount of rain in London (Gray's Inn Road) as follows:-- +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | MONTHS. |INCHES.|DAYS.|HOURS.|| MONTHS. |INCHES.|DAYS.|HOURS.| |-----------+-------+-----+------++------------+-------+-----+------| |January. | 1·86 | 19 | 88 ||July. | 2·27 | 17 | 68 | |February. | 0·37 | 9 | 25 ||August. | 2·45 | 12 | 72 | |March. | 3·40 | 22 | 130 ||September. | 1·70 | 12 | 55 | |April. | 2·34 | 14 | 80 ||October. | 3·23 | 21 | 94 | |May. | 3·04 | 16 | 90 ||November. | 1·12 | 10 | 53 | |June. | 2·45 | 20 | 83 ||December. | 1·44 | 17 | 66 | +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ "During the year 1862, the rainfall amounted to 25·67 inches. Rain fell on 179 days, that is, on nearly every other day. The hours of rain were estimated at 904; therefore, if the rain had fallen continuously, it would have lasted nearly 38 days and nights."[10] The value of similar estimates of the rainfall by numerous observers would be very great to meteorology. =116. The principle of measurement= in all these gauges is the relation existing between the areas of the collecting and receiving surfaces; that is, between the area of the funnel into which the rain falls, and the area of the cylinder which receives it. In Howard's and Glaisher's gauges, this cylinder is virtually the measuring glass itself; in the others, above described, the measuring scales show the same depth of water as in the cylinder of the gauge. The cylinder being of less diameter than the funnel, and receiving all the rain collected by the funnel, it follows that its contents will have an increased depth. Now equal cylindrical volumes, having different diameters, are to each other in length inversely as the squares of the diameters. Hence, if the funnel be 9 inches and the cylinder 3 inches in diameter, a fall of 1 inch of rain will be represented in the gauge by 9 inches; for 3² : 9² :: 1 : _x_ = 9. In this case, therefore, a length of nine inches of the measuring glass, tube, or scale, would represent an inch of rainfall, and be divided into tenths and hundredths of the artificial inch. =117. Position for Rain-Gauge, &c.=--Rain gauges should be placed on the ground, in any position exposed to a free fall of rain, snow, or hail, where neither walls, buildings, nor trees shelter or cause eddies of wind. They should be supported by a frame, or other means, to prevent them being blown down by the wind, but so that they can be readily emptied. During snow or frost, the gauge must be watched, and its contents melted by placing it in a warm room, either when the amount is to be measured, or the funnel is filled up with snow. A tin vessel of equal area to the funnel may at such times be useful as a substitute. Rain gauges are constructed of metal, usually copper, which, besides being readily workable, is little affected by atmospheric influences. If made of iron or zinc, they should be well japanned; if of copper, this is not so essential. The capacity of a gauge should be sufficient to contain at least the probable maximum fall of rain in a day at the locality. Those required for rainy districts must be of large size. =118. Causes of Rain.=--When the invisible vapour which is diffused in the atmosphere becomes sufficiently cooled, it appears visible as mist or cloud, and a further reduction of temperature causes its precipitation as rain, hail, or snow. The cooling of the higher regions of the atmosphere is doubtless the chief cause of this condensation; but the property which aqueous vapour possesses of radiating heat may also contribute to the result. Moreover, the law which regulates the amount of vapour which air at any particular temperature can sustain in a transparent state, determines that when two bodies of air at different temperatures, saturated with vapour, intermix, some moisture must be rendered visible; and hence, it is not only possible, but highly probable, that rain may result from the conflict of different winds. Let us imagine two cubic yards of air, both saturated with moisture, but having the respective temperatures of 50 and 70 degrees, to come into contact. There will be a tendency to equalize the temperature to a mean, which is 60°; and during this process, some of the vapour will be condensed. For in the air at 50° there is 110·7 grains of vapour[11] and " 70 " 216·0 " ------ Total amount of vapour 326·7 " But two cubic yards of air at 60° can only sustain 313·2 " ------ Hence there will be deposited 13·5 " of rain. ====== It may be conceded, therefore, that when a warm and moist current of air encounters a body of cold air which may not be extremely dry, the mixture is unable to retain the whole of the vapour in an invisible state; so that the excess becomes visible as mist or fog, and, when the temperature has become sufficiently lowered, rain. The British Isles are more or less enveloped in fog, or mist, at the commencement of easterly winds, which, with a sudden change of wind, is exhibited even in summer; while the south-westerly winds, warm, and arriving from the ocean, deposit large quantities of rain by the cooling effect of the land, colder by reason of its latitude. When rain occurs with a northerly wind, it is probably due to the deposition from an upper south-westerly current, often apparently proved by the movements of the upper clouds. =119. Laws of Rain-fall.=--Tropical countries have a dry and a wet season during the year: _dry_, when the sun is at the opposite side of the equator; _wet_, when the sun is overhead. With reference to the British Isles, the statistics collected by Mr. G. J. Symons indicate that: 1st. The stations of least rain are inland, or on the east or south-east coasts; the stations of greatest rain are on the western coasts. 2nd. The rain-fall is very large in the vicinity of mountain chains or groups, unless the station happens to be some miles to the north-eastward. It may be well to illustrate these remarks by quoting[12] the average fall at a few places, grouping them as-- Westerly. Inches. Bodmin 43 Bolton (Lancashire) 44 Coniston (Windermere) 71 Seathwaite 127 Torosay (I. of Mull) 75 Killaloe (Limerick) 38 Central. Inches. Enfield 23 Epping 23 Derby 24 York 22 Stirling 39 Perth 29 Easterly. Inches. Witham (Essex) 21 Patrington (Hull) 21 Sunderland 17 Inveresk (Edinburgh) 25 Pittenweem (Fife) 24 Dublin 22 Mr. Green, the celebrated aeronaut, has asserted from his experience, "that whenever a fall of rain happens, and the sky is entirely overcast, there will invariably be found to exist another stratum of cloud at a certain elevation above the former;" and the recent scientific balloon ascents by Mr. Glaisher have tended to confirm this theory. Mr. Glaisher says, "It would seem to be an established fact, that whenever rain is falling from an overcast sky, there is a second stratum above." "It would also seem that when the sky is overcast without rain, that there is no stratum of cloud above, but that the sun is shining on the upper surface. In every instance in which I have been up under these circumstances, I have found such to be the case, agreeing in this respect also with Mr. Green's observations." The amount of rain collected in a gauge placed near the surface of the earth is larger than in any gauge placed above it; and the higher the gauge is placed, the less water is collected. Mr. Glaisher contends that his balloon experiments corroborate this law. =120. Utility of Statistics of Rain-fall.=--The utility of knowing the rain-fall of any locality is sufficiently obvious, and little need be said upon the subject. The rain-gauge should be in the hands of every gardener and farmer. In the management of out-door plants and crops, as well as in the construction of cisterns and tanks for the supply of water, a rain gauge is a valuable assistant. By its use, the gardener will be guided in judging how far the supply of moisture to the earth is needed; and he will also see how beneficial is even a hasty shower to growing plants, when he considers that a fall of rain measuring the tenth of an inch in depth, corresponds to the deposit of about forty hogsheads per acre. The study of the rain-fall of a country is of considerable interest to agriculturists. The health and increase of domestic animals, the development of the productions of the land, as well as the daily labours of the farmer, are dependent upon the excess or deficiency of rain. "It must be a subject of great satisfaction and confidence to the husbandman to know at the beginning of a summer, by the certain evidence of meteorological results on record, that the season, in the ordinary course of things, may be expected to be a dry and warm one; or to find, in a certain period of it, that the average quantity of rain to be expected for the month has fallen. On the other hand, when there is reason, from the same source of information, to expect much rain, the man who has courage to begin his operations under an unfavourable sky, but with good ground to conclude, from the state of his instruments and his collateral knowledge, that a fair interval is approaching, may often be profiting by his observations; while his cautious neighbour who waited 'for the weather to settle' may find that he has let the opportunity go by. This superiority, however, is attainable by a very moderate share of application to the subject; and by the keeping of a plain diary of the barometer and rain-gauge, with the hygrometer and vane, under his daily notice."[13] The statistics of rain-fall are not only valuable and interesting in a meteorological point of view, and for agricultural purposes, but are also highly important in connection with sanitary arrangements for towns, and engineering operations. This is especially evident to the hydraulic engineer. As rain is an important source of water-supply to rivers, canals, and reservoirs, it is evident that a knowledge of the probable fall for any season or month, at a given place, as furnished by averages of the observations of former years, will be the data upon which the engineer will base his plans for providing for floods or droughts; while the measurement of the actual quantity which has just fallen, as gathered from the indications of a series of gauges, will suggest to him the precautions to adopt either to economise or conduct away the in-pouring waters. "When a canal is conducted across an undulating country, its course is necessarily governed by the accidents of the ground, and it alternately rises and falls. In this case, rising by a succession of levels, it necessarily arrives at a certain highest level, which is called by engineers the _summit level_. From this it again descends by a corresponding series of levels. Now, it is evident that, supposing the locks to be all equal in magnitude, the ascent of a vessel will require the descent of as much water from the summit to the lowest level as would fill a single lock; for this quantity of water must be discharged from each lock of the series when the vessel passes through it. "The same may be said of the process by which the vessel descends along the series of locks on the other side of the summit. It appears, therefore, that a supply of water must always be maintained on the summit level sufficient to fill a single lock twice for each vessel which crosses the summit. "It happens, fortunately, that by the laws of natural evaporation, rain is precipitated in greater quantities on elevated summits than on the intermediate valleys, so that the moving power, in this case, accommodates itself to the exigencies of intercommunication."--_Dr. Lardner's "Handbook of Natural Philosophy."_ =121. New Form of Rain-Gauge.=--Since the foregoing pages were in type, a modification of Howard's rain-gauge has been arranged by Mr. Symons, which is compact in design, convenient in use, and low in price. It combines the advantages of most gauges; having solidity, and facility of measurement. The bottle is placed in a tin case, to the bottom of which are attached stout spikes, which, when forced into the earth, prevent its being upset either by wind or accident. The bottle being transparent, and slits made in the case, the fall of rain is seen at a glance, or with a race-glass, from a window. The funnel being attached to the cover of the case is thereby kept strictly horizontal, and the depth of rain can be accurately measured by lifting the bottle from its case and emptying it into a graduated glass jar. The funnel of this gauge is a very deep cone, to prevent the rain drops outsplashing. When properly placed, the receiving surface will be twelve inches above the ground, which experience has shown to be the most advantageous height. CHAPTER XIII. APPARATUS EMPLOYED FOR REGISTERING THE DIRECTION, PRESSURE, AND VELOCITY OF THE WIND. =122. The Vane.=--The instrument by which the wind's direction is most generally noted, is the vane, or weather-cock, and all that need be said of it here is that the points north, east, south and west, usually attached to it, should indicate the _true_ and not the _magnetic_ directions; and that care should be taken to prevent its setting fast. Very complicated instruments are required for ascertaining the pressure and velocity of the wind, and these are called _Anemometers_. The simplest is _Lind's_. [Illustration: Fig. 86.] =123. Lind's Anemometer, or Wind-Gauge= (fig. 86), invented so late as 1775, for showing the pressure of the wind, consists of a glass syphon, the limbs parallel to each other, and each limb the same diameter. One end of the syphon is bent at right angles to the limb, so as to present a horizontal opening to the wind. A graduated scale, divided to inches and tenths, is attached to the syphon tube, reading either way from a zero point in the centre of the scale. The whole instrument is mounted on a spindle, surmounted by a vane, and is moved freely in any direction by the wind, always presenting the open end towards the quarter from which the wind blows. To use the instrument, it is simply filled up to the zero point with water, and then exposed to the wind; the difference in the level of the water gives the force of the wind in inches and tenths, by adding together the amount of depression in one limb, and elevation in the other, the _sum of the two_ being the height of a column of water which the wind is capable of sustaining at that time. TABLE, Showing the Force of Wind on a square foot, for different heights of the column of Water in Lind's Wind-Gauge. +-----------------------------------+ |Inches.|Force in|Common designation| | | lbs. | of such Wind. | |-------+--------+------------------| | 6 | 31·75 | A Hurricane. | | 5 | 26·04 | A violent Storm. | | 4 | 20·83 | A great Storm. | | 3 | 15·62 | A Storm. | | 2 | 10·42 | A strong Wind. | | 1 | 5·21 | A high Wind. | | ·5 | 2·60 | A brisk Wind. | | ·1 | ·52 | A fresh Breeze. | | ·05 | ·26 | A gentle Breeze. | | 0. | 0. | A Calm. | +-----------------------------------+ =124. Modification of Lind's Gauge.=--_Sir W. Snow Harris_ has effected a modification of Lind's anemometer, with a view of obtaining a hand instrument for use at sea more especially. At present the force of the wind is estimated at sea by an arbitrary scale, suggested by Sir F. Beaufort, the late hydrographer; 0 being calm, 12 the strongest hurricane, and the intermediate numerals giving the varying strength of the wind. There has been a long-felt want of instrumental means for obtaining this data at sea, if merely for the sake of checking occasionally personal estimations, which may vary considerably among different observers. Harris's wind gauge is intended to be held by hand, while facing the wind, and keeping it in proper position by attending to a spirit-level attached. When in position, and held firmly, the tube has to be opened to the wind by pressure of the thumb acting upon jointed levers, controlled by springs. The pressure of the wind moves the enclosed liquid; and by withdrawing the thumb, the tube is closed so as to keep the liquid in its position; the reading is then taken from its scale, either in pounds on the square foot, miles per hour, or the ordinary designations of wind, as light, fresh, strong, &c. =125. Robinson's Anemometer.=--_Dr. Robinson_, of Armagh, is the inventor of a very successful anemometer, which determines the horizontal velocity of the wind. It was first used in 1850, in the meteorological and tidal observations made on the coast of Ireland under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Lloyd. No meteorological observatory should be without this valuable instrument, which is essential in determining the average velocity of the wind of a locality as distinguished from the most frequent wind of the same place. It is represented in fig. 87. Four hollow hemispherical cups, _A A_, are extended upon conjugate diameters, or arms, with their diametrical planes placed vertically, and facing the same way upon a vertical axis, _B_, which has at its lower extremity an endless screw, _D_. The axis is supported at _C_ so as to turn with as little friction as possible. The endless screw is placed in gear with a train of wheels and pinions. Each wheel carries an index over a stationary dial in front; or the index is fixed, and the graduations are placed upon the wheels themselves. [Illustration: Fig. 87.] Dr. Robinson has proved, both by theory and experiment, that the centre of any one of the cups so mounted and set in motion by the wind, revolves with one-third of the wind's velocity. If, therefore, the diametrical distance between the centres of the cups be one foot, the circle described by the centres in one revolution is 3·1416 feet, and the velocity of the wind will be three times this, or 9·42 feet, which must be referred to time for the absolute rate. The instrument is sometimes made with the centres of the cups 1·12 feet apart, so that the circle described is 1/1500 of a mile in circumference. Hence, to produce one revolution of the cups, the wind must travel three times as fast, or 1/500 of a mile. Therefore, 500 revolutions will be produced by one mile of wind; so that the dials may be graduated to register the velocity in miles and tenths of miles. The simplest arrangement is with five dials, recording respectively 10, 100, 1,000, 10,000 and 100,000 revolutions. _Directions for using Robinson's Anemometer._--The dials read off in the same manner as the register of a gas meter, commencing with the dial farthest from the endless screw. "The figures on the first dial indicate so many hundreds of thousands of revolutions; those on the second dial so many tens of thousands; those on the third, thousands; those on the fourth, hundreds; and those on the fifth so many tens. "The instrument should be read every morning at 9 o'clock; and, usually, it will only be necessary to read the first three dials. The figures can be entered as they are read off. Should the index point _between_ two figures, the less of the two is to be taken. "For example, if the first dial points to 7, or between 7 and 8; while the second dial indicates 4; and the third, 5; the entry to be made is 745 (indicative of 745 _thousand_ revolutions). "Every time the index of the first dial is found to have passed zero (0), a cross or star is to be prefixed to the next (a lower) reading. "To ascertain how many _thousands_ of revolutions have been made during the month, it will simply be necessary to subtract the first reading from the last, and prefix to the three figures thus obtained a figure corresponding to the number of stars in the column. For every _thousand_ revolutions there are two miles of wind: we have therefore only to multiply by 2 to find how many miles of wind have passed during the month. "Two entries must be made for the last day of each month (the one being written under the other), so as to bring the readings down to 9 A.M. on the 1st of the following month. The same entry which ends one month, will therefore begin the next. This repetition of one entry is necessary, in order to prevent losing a day's wind. "The accompanying example of the 687 readings of an Anemometer for 13 days 773 will illustrate the method of making 822 the entries, &c. 855 900 "In this instance, the first reading 953 (687) is less than the last (793). 990 When the first reading is greater than *066 the last, it will be necessary to borrow 197 1,000 in making the subtractions, 323 and then deduct one from the number 414 of stars. Thus, if the first reading 597 of the series on the margin had 712 been 887, the result would have been 793 906 instead of 1106. ---- 1106 thousands of revolutions. 2 +----- 13 | 2212 miles of wind in period. +----- 170 miles of wind per day, on an average. "The foregoing directions are all which require to be regularly attended to. But it may be interesting at times to find the velocity of the wind during a period of a few minutes. This may be ascertained by observing the difference of two readings of all the dials, with an interval of some minutes between them, when a very brief calculation will suffice; but perhaps the simplest method is the following:-- "Take two readings, with an interval of 12 minutes between them. The difference of these readings, divided by 10, is the velocity of the wind in miles per hour. Thus--if the reading of the five dials (from left to right) at noon is 15206, and at 12 minutes past 12 is 15348, the velocity of the wind is 14·2 miles per hour."--_Admiral FitzRoy, F.R.S._ A lever and clutch are sometimes fitted to this anemometer, as in fig. 88, for throwing the train out of gear when not required to register. It may also be connected with clock-work so as to be self-recording, by causing the mechanism to impress a mark upon prepared paper moved by the apparatus, at certain intervals of time. [Illustration: Fig. 88.] This anemometer should be fixed in an exposed situation, as high above ground as may be convenient for reading. It may be made very portable, by the arms which carry the cups being fitted to unscrew or to fold down. When fitted in gimbals, it can be used at sea with much advantage. The pressure of the wind has been experimentally proved to vary as the square of the velocity; the relation being _V²_ = 200 × _P_. From this formula, therefore, the pressure can be calculated corresponding to the observed velocity. =126. Whewell's Anemometer.=--This apparatus, the invention of the celebrated Dr. W. Whewell, registers the horizontal motion of the air with the direction. Its mechanism may be described in general terms, as follows:-- A horizontal brass plate is attached to a vertical spindle, which passes through the axis of a fixed cylinder, being supported by a bearing at the lower end, and working in a collar at the upper. A vane is attached, by which the plate is moved about according to the direction of the wind. A fly, having eight fans, each fixed at an angle of 45° with the axle, is placed upon the plate so that the axle is in the line of direction of the vane. An endless screw on the axle turns a vertical wheel having one hundred teeth, the axle to which has also an endless screw working into a horizontal wheel, having a like number of teeth, and which communicates motion to a vertical screw fifteen inches long. On this screw is placed a moveable nut, which carries a pencil. Round the cylinder is wrapped daily a paper divided for the points of the compass. The wind acting upon the vane will cause the plate to turn; and the screw which carries the pencil will travel with it, so that the pencil will mark upon the paper the direction of the wind. The fly will also be set in motion, and thereby the nut upon the screw will descend, so that the attached pencil will trace a vertical line upon the paper. When the fans on the axle are 2·3 inches from axis to end, and 1·9 inches wide, and the thread of the screw such that forty-five revolutions will cause the nut to descend two inches, 75·85 miles of wind will cause the pencil to descend through a vertical space of two inches; but the actual trace upon the paper will be longer in proportion to the magnitude of change of azimuth, or direction, of the wind. =127. Osler's Anemometer, and Pluviometer.=--Mr. Follet Osler is the inventor of a self-recording apparatus which registers the direction and pressure of the wind, and the amount and duration of rain, upon the same sheet of paper. His apparatus has met with very much approbation, and has been erected in many observatories. The mechanism may be modified in various ways, and the following is a description of the simplest and most recent arrangement. [Illustration: Fig. 89.] The instrument, of which fig. 89 is a diagram rather than a picture, consists, first, of a vane, _V_, of a wedge-shape form, which is found to answer better than a flat vane; for the latter is always in a neutral line, and therefore is not sufficiently sensitive. A wind-mill governor has been substituted for the vane to get the direction of the wind, with advantage. At the lower end of the tube, _T T_, is a small pinion, working in a rack, _r_, which moves backwards and forwards as the wind presses the vane. To this rack a pencil, _x_, is attached, which marks the direction of the wind on a properly ruled paper, placed horizontally beneath, and so adjusted as to progress at the rate of half an inch per hour, by means of a simple contrivance connecting it with a good clock. The paper is shown in the illustration upon the table of the instrument. The pressure plate, _F_, for ascertaining the force of the wind, is one foot square, placed immediately beneath, and at right angles with the vane; it is supported by light bars, running horizontally on friction rollers, and communicating with flattened springs, 1, 2, 3, so that the plate, when affected by the pressure of the wind, acts upon them, and they transfer such action to a copper chain passing down the interior of the direction tube, and over a pulley at the bottom. A light copper wire connects this chain with the spring lever, _y y_, carrying a pencil which records the pressure upon the paper below. Mr. Osler much prefers a spring to any other means for ascertaining the force of the wind, because it is of the highest importance to have as little matter in motion as possible, otherwise the momentum acquired will cause the pressure plate to give very erroneous indications. The pressure plate is as light as is consistent with strength. It is kept before the wind by the vane, and is urged out by three or more springs, so that with light winds one only is compressed, and two, or more, according to the strength of the wind. The _pluviometer_ is placed on the right in the figure, _P P_ being the plane of the roof of the building. The rain funnel, _R_, exposes an area of about 200 square inches. The water collected in it is conveyed by a tube through the roof of the building into a glass vessel, _G_, so adjusted and graduated as to indicate a quarter of an inch of rain for every 200 square inches of surface, _i. e._ 50 cubic inches. _G_ is supported by spiral springs, _b b_, which are compressed by the accumulating rain. A glass tube, open at both ends, is cemented into the bottom of _G_, and over it is placed a larger one closed at the top like a bell glass. The smaller tube thus forms the long leg of a syphon, and the larger tube acts as the short leg. The water, having risen to the level of the top of the inner tube, drops over into a little copper tilt, _t_, in the globe, _S_, beneath the reservoir. This tilt is divided into two equal partitions by a slip of copper, and placed upon an axis not exactly balanced, but so that one end or the other preponderates. The water then drops into the end of the tilt which happens to be uppermost, and when quite full it falls over, throwing the water into the globe, _S_, from which it flows away by the waste pipe. In this way an imperfect vacuum is produced in the globe, quite sufficient to produce a draught in the small tube of the syphon, or the long leg; and the whole contents of the reservoir, _G_, immediately run off, and the spiral springs, _b b_, elevate the reservoir to its original position. To produce this action, a quarter of an inch of rain must have fallen. The registration is easily understood. A spring lever, _z_, carrying a pencil, is attached by a cord, _c_, to _S_. This spring always keeps the cord tight, so that as the apparatus descends during the fall of rain, the spring advances the pencil more and more from the zero of the scale upon the paper beneath, until a quarter of an inch has fallen, when the pencil is drawn back to zero by the ascent of the reservoir. The clock movement carries the registering paper forward by one of the wheels working into a rack attached to the frame. The adjustment of the instrument should be carefully made at its first erection. The scale for pressure should be established experimentally, by applying weights of 2, 4, 6, &c., lbs., to move the pressure plate. The registration trace for twenty-four hours is readily understood. The direction is recorded on the centre part; the pressure on one side, and the rain on the other. Lines parallel to the length of the paper show no rain, steady wind, and constant pressure. On the rain trace, a line parallel to the width of the paper shows that the pencil had been drawn back to zero, a quarter of an inch of rain having fallen. The hour lines are in the direction of the width of the paper. At the International Exhibition 1862, Messrs. Negretti and Zambra exhibited an improved Osler's anemometer, having combined with it Robinson's cups, so that the pressure and velocity appear on the same sheet, on which a line an inch in length is recorded at every ten miles; thus the complete instrument shows continuously the direction, pressure, and velocity of the wind. =128. Beckley's Anemometer.=--Mr. R. Beckley, of the Kew Observatory, has devised a self-registering anemometer, which consists of three principal parts: Robinson's cups for the determination of velocity; a double fan, or wind-mill governor, for obtaining the direction; and a clock to move a cylinder, around which registration paper is wrapped. The paper records the time, velocity, and direction of the wind for twenty-four hours, when it must be replaced. It has a cast-iron tubular support, or pedestal to carry the external parts--the cups and the fans,--which must be erected upon the roof of the building upon which it is desired to mount the instrument. The fans keep their axis at right angles to the wind; and with any change of direction they move, carrying with them an outer brass tube, which rests upon friction balls on the top of the pedestal, and is attached to a tubular shaft passing through the interior of the pedestal, and terminating with a mitre wheel. The mitre wheel, working with other cogged wheels, communicates the motion of the direction shaft to a cylinder carrying a pencil, to record the direction. The shaft carrying the cups is supported upon friction balls, placed in a groove formed on the top of the direction shaft, and passing through the interior of that shaft, comes out below the mitre wheel, where it is terminated in an endless screw, or worm. Upon the wind moving the cups, motion is given to the innermost shaft, thence to the worm-wheel, whence motion is given to a pencil which registers the velocity. De la Rue's metallic paper is used in registration, it having the property of receiving a trace from a brass pencil. The pencils can, therefore, be made in the most convenient form. Mr. Beckley forms each pencil of a strip of brass wrapped round a cylinder, making a very thin threaded screw, so that the contact of the pencil cylinder and the clock cylinder is a mere point of the metallic thread. The pencil cylinders are placed side by side upon the cylinder turned by the clock, and require no spring or other appliance to keep them to their work, but always make contact with the registration paper by their own gravity. They therefore require no attention, and being as long as the trace which they make, they will last a long time. The velocity pencil has only one turn on the cylinder, and its pitch is equal to a scale of fifty miles upon the paper. The direction pencil has likewise one turn on its cylinder, its pitch being equal to a scale of the cardinal points of the compass upon the paper. The clock gives a uniform motion of half an inch per hour to the cylinder upon which the paper is fastened. The registering mechanism of the instrument is very compact, requiring only a space of about 18 inches by 8 inches. In the Report of the British Association for 1858, Mr. Beckley has given a detailed description of his anemometer, with drawings of all the parts. =129. Self-Registering Lind's Anemometer.=--A Lind's wind-gauge, designed to register the maximum pressure, was exhibited at the International Exhibition 1862, by Mr. E. G. Wood. The bend of the syphon is contracted to obtain steadiness. On the leeward limb a hole is drilled corresponding in size with the contracted portion of the tube. The edge of the hole corresponds with the zero of the scale. On the pressure of the wind increasing, as much of the water as would have risen above the aperture flows away, and therefore the quantity left indicates the greatest pressure of the wind since the last setting of the instrument, which is done by filling it with water up to the zero point. =130. Anemometric Observations.=--To illustrate the value of anemometric observations, we quote from a paper by Mr. Hartnup, on the results obtained from Osler's Anemometer, at the Liverpool Observatory. The six years' observations, ending 1857, gave for the yearly average of the winds: North-easterly, on 60 days, at 7·8 miles per hour; North-westerly, on 112 days, at 15·4 miles per hour; South-easterly, on 115 days, at 11·0 miles per hour; South-westerly, on 77 days, at 13·8 miles per hour; and one day calm. From the same observations, the average variation in the strength of the wind during the 24 hours is:--11 miles per hour, the minimum force, occurring at 1-1/2 a.m.; until 6 a.m. it remains much the same, being then 11·3 miles per hour; at 10 a.m. it is 13·4 miles per hour; at 1-1/2 p.m. the wind is at its maximum strength, being 14·8 miles per hour; at 5 p.m. it is again 13·4 miles per hour, and at 9 p.m. 11·3 miles per hour. Hence it appears that the wind falls to its minimum force much more gradually than it rises to its maximum; that the decrease and increase are equal and contrary, so that the curve is symmetrical; and that generally the force of wind is less at night than during the day. "There is evidence," says Admiral FitzRoy, "in Mr. Hartnup's very valuable anemometrical results, which seems to prove that to his observatory, in a valley, with buildings and hills to the north-eastward, the real polar current does not blow from N.E., but nearer S.E. By his reliable digest of winds experienced there, it appears that those most prevalent were from W.N.W. and S.S.E. But in England, generally, the _prevailing_ winds are _believed_ to be westerly, inclining to south-westerly, and north-easterly; while of all winds, the south-easterly is about the rarest. "At Lord Wrottesley's observatory, in Staffordshire, about 530 feet above the sea, there appears to be considerably less strength of wind at any given time, when a gale is blowing _generally_, than occurs simultaneously at places along the sea-coast: whence the inference is, that undulations of the land's surface and hills, diminish the strength of wind materially by frictional resistance. "All the synoptic charts hitherto advanced at the Board of Trade exhibit a marked diminution of force inland compared with that on the sea-coast. Indeed, the coast itself offers similar evidence, in its stunted, sloping trees, and comparative barrenness."[14] CHAPTER XIV. INSTRUMENTS FOR INVESTIGATING ATMOSPHERIC ELECTRICITY. =131. Atmospheric Electroscope.=--The simplest instrument for ascertaining at any time the electric condition of the atmosphere is an electroscope composed of two equal pieces of gold leaf, suspended from a brass support, and insulated, as well as protected from the movement of the air, by a glass covering. Fig. 90 represents such an instrument. The cap of the brass support is fitted for the reception, in the vertical direction, of a metallic rod, not less than two or three feet in length. The top of the rod carries a clip. The instrument acts according to the law, that bodies similarly electrified repel each other; but when dissimilarly electrified, they attract each other. To make an observation, the instrument is placed in the open air, and a lighted piece of cigar fusee, or touch-paper, is fixed in the clip. The electricity of the air is collected by the substance undergoing combustion, and conducted by the rod to the gold leaf; and the pieces, being similarly electrified, separate more or less according to the amount of electricity present. The kind is determined by the effect of either an excited stick of sealing-wax or rod of glass upon the electrified gold leaf. A rod of glass, when rubbed briskly with a silk handkerchief or piece of woollen cloth, becomes positively electrified, or excited, as it is termed. A stick of sealing-wax, similarly treated, acquires the negative state. If, therefore, an excited glass rod be presented to the cap of the instrument, and it cause the pieces of gold leaf to diverge still further, the electric state of the air must be analogous to that of the glass, that is, _positive_; if they approach, it is _negative_. On the contrary, if a stick of sealing-wax be used, the pieces will be repelled more apart if they have acquired negative electricity from the air; and they will converge if they have a positive charge. [Illustration: Fig. 90.] By means of this very simple instrument, meteorological observers can readily ascertain the electric condition of the lower air at any time. NOTE.--A book containing strips of gold leaf is sent with the Electrometer to replace the gold leaves when torn or broken in use. To mount fresh gold leaves, unscrew the brass plate to which is attached the rod supporting the leaves; then moisten with the breath the flat piece of brass, and press it gently down on one strip of gold, whilst the book is only partly opened; the second leaf is attached in the same manner. =132. Volta's Electrometer= is similar to the instrument just described, except that instead of gold leaf two light pieces of straw, or two pith balls, are freely suspended from the conductor; the amount of the electric charge being estimated from the degrees of divergence, shown by a graduated arc. =133. Peltier's Electrometer= is a much superior instrument in point of sensibility. A tall glass tube an inch or more in diameter, is connected to a glass receiver, mounted on a base fitted with levelling screws. At the top of the tube is formed a globe from four to five inches in diameter, which is thickly gilt on the exterior, so as to form a good conducting surface. A wire passes from the ball down the tube into the receiver, where it is bent up, and ends in a steel point over the centre of the base. A bent wire, carrying a small magnetic needle, is balanced on the steel point, so that the magnet, with the fine wire, arranges itself horizontally in the direction of the magnetic meridian. If any cloud or portion of air in the neighbourhood be in an electrical state, it will act by induction upon the gilt ball, and the needle will be deflected from its north and south direction. A graduated circle indicates the number of degrees of the deflection, which will be greater or less according to the tension of the electricity. To ascertain whether the electricity is positive or negative, a stick of shellac or glass must be employed, as already described. =134. Bohnenberger's Electroscope= may be fitted with a metallic conductor, and used with great advantage for observing atmospheric electricity. "The principal parts of the instrument, as improved by Becquérel, are the following:--_A B_, fig. 91, is a small dry galvanic pile of from 500 to 800 pairs, about a quarter of an inch in diameter; when the plates are pressed together, such a pile will be from 2 to 2-1/2 inches in length. The wires, which are bent so as to stand above the pile, terminate in two plates, _P_ and _M_, which are the poles of the pile. These plates, which are 2 inches by 1/2 an inch, are parallel and opposite to each other. It is convenient for their opposite sides to be slightly convex, for them to be gilded or coated with platinum, and for them to run on the polar wires, by the latter being made to pass through a small hole in them. One of these plates will always be in a state of positive, and the other of negative, electricity; between them suspend the very fine gold leaf, _D G_, which is attached to the conductor, _C D_, of copper wire. If the leaf hang exactly between the two plates, it is equally attracted by each, and will therefore be in a state of repose. The apparatus should be protected by a bell-glass, fitting exactly, and having an opening at the top through which the copper wire, _C D_, passes; the wire, however, is insulated by its being contained in a glass tube, which is made to adhere to the bell-glass by means of a small portion of shellac or gum-lac. Screw on a metal ball or plate, to impart to it the electricity you wish to test, which will be conveyed by the copper wire to the gold leaf, and the latter will immediately move towards the plate which has the opposite polarity. This electroscope is, beyond doubt, one of the most delicate ever constructed, and is well adapted to show small quantities of positive and negative electricity. [Illustration: Fig. 91.] "To ensure the susceptibility of electroscopes and electrometers placed under bell-glasses, precautions should be taken to render the air they contain as dry as possible, which may be effected by enclosing in a suitable vessel a little melted chloride of calcium beneath the glass." The galvanic pile employed in this electroscope is that invented by Zamboni. "It differs from the common hydro-electric batteries principally in this, that the presence of the electromotive liquid is dispensed with, and that in its place is substituted some moist substance of low conducting power, generally paper. The electromotors in these piles are composed for the most part of Dutch gold (copper) and silver (zinc) paper pressed one on the other, with their paper sides together, out of which discs are cut with a diameter of from a quarter of an inch to an inch. More powerful pairs of plates may be obtained by using only the silver paper and smearing its paper side with a thin coat of honey, on which some finely pulverized peroxide of manganese has been sprinkled, and all the sides similarly coated are presented one way. Powerful pairs of plates may also be made by pasting pure gold leaf on the paper side of zinc-paper. These plates are then to be arranged, just as in the ordinary voltaic pile, one above the other, so that the similar metallic surfaces may all lie one way; press them tightly together; tie them with pretty stout silk threads, and press them into a glass tube of convenient size. The metal rims of the tubes, which must be well connected with the outermost pairs of plates, form the poles of the pile, the negative pole being in the extreme zinc surface, and the positive in the extreme copper or manganese surface. "The electromotive energy called into action in these dry piles is less than that excited in the moist or hydro-electric piles, principally on account of the imperfect conduction of the paper. The accumulation of electricity at their poles also goes on less rapidly, and consequently the electrical tension continues for a long while unaltered; whereas, in all moist piles, even in the most constant of them, the tension is maintained, comparatively speaking, for but a short time, on account of the chemical action and decomposition of the electromotive fluid--causes of disturbance which do not exist in the dry pile."[15] =135. Thomson's Electrometer.=--Professor W. Thomson, of Glasgow, has devised an atmospheric electrometer, which is likely to become eminently successful, in the hands of skilful observers. It is mainly a torsion balance combined with a Leyden-jar. The index is an aluminium needle strung on a fine platinum wire, passing through its centre of gravity, and stretched firmly between two points. The needle and wire are carefully insulated from the greater part of the instrument, but are in metallic communication with two small plates fixed beside the two ends of the needle, and termed the repelling plates. A second pair of larger plates face the repelling plates, on the opposite side of the needle, but considerably farther from it. These plates are in connection with the inner coating of a Leyden-jar, and are termed the attracting plates. The whole instrument is enclosed in a metal cage, to protect the glass Leyden-jar and the delicate needle. The Leyden-jar should be charged when the instrument is used. Its effect is two-fold: it increases greatly the sensibility of the instrument, and enables the observer to distinguish between positive and negative electrification. The air inside the jar is kept dry by pumice-stone, slightly moistened with sulphuric acid; by which means very perfect insulation is maintained. Electrodes, or terminals, are brought outside the instrument, by which the Leyden-jar can be charged, and the needle system connected with the body, the electric state of which is to be tested. For the purpose of testing the electric state of the atmosphere, the instrument is provided with a conductor and support for a burning match, or, preferably, with an arrangement termed a water-dropping collector; by either of which means the electricity of the air is conveyed to the needle system. The needle abuts upon the repelling plates when not influenced by electricity, in which position it is at zero. It can always be brought back to zero by a torsion-head, turning one end of the platinum wire, but insulated from it, and provided with a graduated circle, so that the magnitude of the arc, that the torsion-head is moved through to bring the needle to zero, measures the force tending to deflect it. The action of the instrument is as follows:--The Leyden-jar is to be highly charged, say negatively; and the repelling plates are to be connected with the earth. The needle will then be deflected against a stop, under the combined influence of attraction from the Leyden-jar, or attracting plates, and repulsion from the repelling plates due to the positive charge induced on the needle and its plates by the Leyden-jar plates. The platinum wire must then be turned round by the torsion-head so as to bring back the needle to zero; and the number of degrees of torsion required will measure the force with which the needle is attracted. Next, let the needle plates be disconnected from the earth, and connected with the insulated body, the electric state of which is to be tested. In testing the atmosphere, the conductor and lighted match, or water-dropping apparatus, must be applied. If the electricity of the body be positive, it will augment the positive charge in the needle plates, induced by the Leyden-jar plates; and consequently the needle will be more deflected than by the action of the jar alone. If the electricity of the body be negative, it will tend to neutralize the positive charge; and the needle will be less deflected. Hence the kind of electricity present in the air becomes at once apparent, without the necessity of an experimental test. The platinum wire must then be turned till the needle is brought to zero, and the number of degrees observed; which is a measure of the intensity of the electrification. Any loss of charge from the Leyden-jar which may from time to time occur, reducing the sensibility inconveniently, may be made good by additions from a small electrophorus which accompanies the instrument.[16] The instrument may be made self-recording by the aid of clockwork and photography. To effect this, a clock gives motion to a cylinder, upon which photographic paper is mounted. The needle of the electrometer is made to carry a small reflector; and rays from a properly adjusted source of light are thrown by the reflector, through a small opening, upon the photographic paper. It is evident, that as the cylinder revolves, a trace will be left upon the paper, showing the magnitude of, and variations in, the deflection of the needle. =136. Fundamental Facts regarding Atmospheric Electricity.=--The _general_ electrical condition of the atmosphere is _positive_ in relation to the surface of the earth and ocean, becoming more and more positive as the altitude increases. When the sky is overcast, and the clouds are moving in different directions, it is subject to great and sudden variations, changing rapidly from positive to negative, and the reverse. During fog, rain, hail, sleet, snow, and thunderstorms, the electrical state of the air undergoes many variations. The intensity of the electricity increases with hot weather following a series of wet days, or of wet weather coming after a continuance of dry days. The atmospheric electricity, in fact, seems to depend for its intensity and kind upon the direction and character of the prevailing wind, under ordinary circumstances. It has an annual and a diurnal variation. There is a greater diurnal change of tension in winter than in summer. By comparing observations from month to month, a gradual increase of tension is perceived from July to February, and a decrease from February to July. The intensity seems to vary with the temperature. The diurnal variation exhibits two periods of greatest and two of least intensity. In summer, the _maxima_ occur about 10 a.m. and 10 p.m.; the _minima_ about 2 a.m. and noon. In winter, the _maxima_ take place near 10 a.m. and 8 p.m.; the _minima_ near 4 a.m. and 4 p.m. The researches of Saussure, Beccaria, Crosse, Quétèlet, Thompson, and FitzRoy have tended to show that during the prevalence of polar currents of air positive electricity is developed, and becomes more or less active according to the greater or less coldness and strength of wind; but with winds from the equatorial direction there is little evidence of sensitive electricity, and when observable, it is of the negative kind. Storms and gales of wind are generally attended, in places, with lightning and thunder; and as the former are very often attributed to the conflict of polar and equatorial winds, the difference of the electric tension of these winds may account for the latter phenomena. It is not our intention to enter upon the general consideration of thunderstorms; the facts which we have given may be of service to the young observer; and finally, as it is interesting to be able to judge of the locality of a thunderstorm, the following simple rule will be of service, and sufficiently accurate:--Note by a second's watch the number of seconds which elapse from the sight of the lightning to the commencement of the thunder; divide them by five, and the quotient will be the distance in miles. Thus, if thunder is heard ten seconds after the lightning was seen, the distance from the seat of the storm will be about two miles. The interval between the flash and the roll has seldom been observed greater than seventy-two seconds. =137. Lightning Conductors.=--"The line of danger, whether from the burning or lifting power of lightning, is the line of strong and obstructed currents of air, of the greatest aerial friction."[17] Trees, church spires, wind-mills and other tall structures, obstruct the aerial currents, and hence their exposure to danger. The highest objects of the landscape, especially those that are nearest the thunder cloud, will receive the lightning stroke. The more elevated the object, the more likely is it to be struck. Of two or more objects, equally tall and near, the lightning is invariably found to select the best conductor of electricity, and even to make a circuitous path to get to it. Hence the application and evident advantage of metallic rods, called _lightning conductors_, attached to buildings and ships. A lightning conductor should be pointed at top, and extend some feet above the highest part of the edifice, or mast. It should be made of copper, which is a better conducting medium than iron, and more durable, being less corrosive. It must be unbroken throughout its length, and extend to the bottom of the building, and even some distance into the ground, so as to conduct the electricity into a well or moist soil. If it be connected with the lead and iron work in the structure of the house, it will be all the better, as affording a larger surface, and a readier means of exit for the fluid. In a ship, the lower end of the conductor should be led into communication with the hull, if of iron, and with the copper sheathing, if a wooden vessel; so that, spread over a large surface, it may escape more readily to the water. =138. Precautions against Lightning.=--Experience seems to warrant the assumption that any building or ship, fitted with a substantial lightning conductor, is safe from danger during a thunderstorm. Should a house or vessel be undefended by a conductor, it may be advisable to adopt a few precautions against danger. In a house, the fire-place should be avoided, because the lightning may enter by the chimney, its sooty lining being a good conductor. "Through chimneys, lightning has a way into most houses; and therefore, it is wise, by opening doors or windows, to give it a way out. Wherever the aerial current is fiercest, there the danger is greatest; and if we kept out of the way of currents or draughts, we keep out of the way of the lightning."[18] Lightning evinces as it were a preference for metallic substances, and will fly from place to place, even out of the direct line of its passage to the earth, to enter such bodies. It is therefore well to avoid, as much as possible, gildings, silvered mirrors, and articles of metal. The best place is perhaps the middle of the room, unless a draught passes, or a metallic lamp or chandelier should be hanging from the ceiling. The neighbourhood of bad conductors, such as glass windows, not being open, and on a thick bed of mattrasses, are safe places. The quality of trees as lightning conductors is considered to depend upon their height and moisture, those which are taller and relatively more humid being struck in preference to their fellows; therefore, it is unwise to seek shelter under tall and wet trees during a thunderstorm. In the absence of any other shelter, it would be better to lie down on the ground. CHAPTER XV. OZONE AND ITS INDICATORS. =139. Nature of Ozone.=--During the action of a powerful electric machine, and in the decomposition of water by the voltaic battery, a peculiar odour is perceptible, which is considered to arise from the generation of a substance to which the term ozone has been given, on account of its having been first detected by smell, which, for a long time after its discovery, was its only known characteristic. A similar odour is evolved by the influence of phosphorus on moist air, and in other cases of slow combustion. It is also traceable, by the smell, in air,--where a flash of lightning has passed immediately before. Afterwards it was established that the same element possessed an oxidising property. It was found to be liberated at the oxygen electrode when water was decomposed by an electric current; and has been regarded by some chemists as what is termed an _allotropic_ form of oxygen, while others speak of it as oxygen in the _nascent_ state, and some even regard it as intimately related to chlorine. So various are the existing notions of the nature of this obscure agent. Its oxidising property affords a ready means for its detection, even when the sense of smell completely fails. The methods of noting the presence and measuring the amount of ozone present in the air, are very simple; being the free exposure to the air, defended from rain and the direct rays of the sun, of prepared test-papers. There are two kinds of test-papers. One kind was invented by Dr. Schonbein, the original discoverer of ozone; and the other, which is more generally approved, by Dr. Moffat. =140. Schonbein's Ozonometer= consists of strips of paper, previously saturated with a solution of starch and iodide of potassium, and dried. The papers are suspended in a box, or otherwise properly exposed to the air, for a given interval, as twenty-four hours. The presence of ozone is shown by the test-paper acquiring a purple tint when momentarily immersed in water. The amount is estimated by the depth of the tint, according to a scale of ten tints furnished for the purpose, which are distinguished by numbers from 1 to 10. The ozone decomposes the compound which iodine forms with hydrogen, and, it is presumed, combines as oxygen with hydrogen, while the iodine unites with the starch, giving the blue colour when moist. =141. Dr. Moffat's Ozonometer= consists of papers prepared in a somewhat similar manner to Schonbein's; but they do not require immersion in water. The presence of ozone is shown by a brown tint, and the amount by the depth of tint according to a scale of ten tints, which is furnished with each box of the papers. Moffat's have the advantage of preserving their tint for years, if kept in the dark, or between the leaves of a book; and are simpler to use. [Illustration: Fig. 92.] =142. Sir James Clark's Ozone Cage= (fig. 92), consists of two cylinders of very fine wire gauze, one fitting into the other; the wire gauze being of such a fineness as to permit the free ingress of air, at the same time that it shuts out all light that would act injuriously on the test-paper, which is suspended by a clip or hook attached to the upper part of the inner cylinder. =143. Distribution and Effects of Ozone.=--Mr. Glaisher has found that "the amount of ozone at stations of low elevation is small; at stations of high elevation, it is almost always present; and at other and intermediate stations, it is generally so. The presence and amount of ozone would seem to be graduated by the elevation, and to increase from the lowest to the highest ground. The amount of ozone is less in towns than in the open country at the same elevation; and less at inland than at sea-side stations." It seems to abound most with winds from the sea, and to be most prevalent where the air is considered the purest and most salubrious. This may seem, says Admiral FitzRoy, in _The Weather Book_, to point to a connection between ozone and chlorine gas, which is in and over sea-water, and which _must_ be brought by any wind that blows from the sea. It prevails more over the ocean and near it than over land, especially land remote from the sea; and, says the Admiral, it affects the gastric juice, improves digestion, and has a tanning effect. Dr. Daubeny, in his _Lectures on Climate_, writes: "Its presence must have a sensible influence upon the purity of the air, by removing from it foetid and injurious organic effluvia. It is also quite possible that ozone may play an important part in regulating the functions of the vegetable kingdom likewise; and although it would be premature at present to speculate upon its specific office, yet, for this reason alone, it may be well to note the fact of its frequency, in conjunction with the different phases which vegetation assumes, persuaded that no principle can be generally diffused throughout nature, as appears to be the case, with this, without having some important and appropriate use assigned for it to fulfil." =144. Registering Ozonometer.=--Dr. E. Lancaster has contrived an ozonometer, the object of which is to secure the constant registration of ozone, so that the varying quantities present in the atmosphere may be detected and registered. For this purpose, an inch of ozone paper passes in each hour, by clock-work, beneath an opening in the cover of the instrument. CHAPTER XVI. INSTRUMENTS NOT DESCRIBED IN THE PRECEDING CHAPTERS. =145. Chemical Weather Glass.=--This curious instrument appears to have been invented more than a hundred years ago, but the original maker is not known. It is simply a glass vial about ten inches long and three quarters of an inch in diameter, which is nearly filled, and hermetically sealed, with the following mixture:--Two drachms of camphor, half a drachm of nitrate of potassium, half a drachm of chlorate of ammonium, dissolved in about two fluid ounces of absolute alcohol mixed with two ounces of distilled water. All the ingredients should be as pure as possible, and each vial filled separately. When the instruments are made in numbers and filled from a common mixture, some get more than the due proportion of the solid ingredients, and consequently such glasses do not exhibit that uniformity of appearance and changes, that undoubtedly should accompany similar influencing circumstances. It is in consequence of a want of precision and fixed principle of manufacture, that these interesting instruments are not properly appreciated, and more generally used. The glass should be kept quite undisturbed, exposed to the north, and shaded from the sun. Camphor is soluble in alcohol, but not in water, while both water and alcohol have different solvent powers, according to the temperature; hence, the solid ingredients being in excess for certain conditions of solution, depending upon temperature chiefly, and perhaps electricity and the action of light also, appear as crystals and disappear with the various changes that occur in the weather. The various appearances thus presented in the menstruum have been inferred to prognosticate atmospheric changes. The following rules have been deduced from careful study of the glass and weather:-- 1. During cold weather, beautiful fern-like or feathery crystallization is developed at the top, and sometimes even throughout the liquid. This is the normal state of the glass during winter. The crystallization increases with the coldness; and if the structure grows downward, the cold will continue. 2. During warm and serene weather, the crystals dissolve, the upper and greater part of the liquid becoming perfectly clear. This is the normal state of the glass during summer. The less amount of crystallization, that is, the greater the clear portion of the liquid (for there is always some of the composition visible at the bottom), the greater the probability of continued fine dry weather. 3. When the upper portion is clear, and flakes of the composition rise to the top and aggregate, it is a sign of increasing wind and stormy weather. 4. In cold weather, if the top of the liquid becomes thick and cloudy, it denotes approaching rain. 5. In warm weather, if small crystals rise in the liquid, which still maintains its clearness, rain may be expected. 6. Sharpness in the points and features of the fern-like structure of the crystals, is a sign of fine weather; but when they begin to break up, and are badly defined, unsettled weather may be expected. Admiral FitzRoy, in _The Weather Book_, writes of this instrument as follows:--"Since 1825, we have generally had some of these glasses, as curiosities rather than otherwise; for nothing certain could be made of their variations until lately, when it was fairly demonstrated that if fixed undisturbed in free air, not exposed to radiation, fire, or sun, but in the ordinary light of a well-ventilated room, or, _preferably_, in the outer air, the chemical mixture in a so-called storm-glass varies in character with the _direction_ of the wind--not its force, _specially_ (though it _may_ so vary in _appearance_, only from another cause, _electrical tension_). "As the atmospheric current veers toward, comes from, or is only _approaching_ from the polar direction, this chemical mixture--if closely, even microscopically watched--is found to grow like _fir_, _yew_, fern leaves, or hoar-frost--or like crystallizations. "As the wind, or great body of air, tends more from the _opposite_ quarter, the lines or spikes--all regular, hard, or crisp features--gradually diminish, till they vanish. "Before, and in a continued southerly wind, the mixture sinks slowly downward in the vial, till it becomes shapeless, like melting white sugar. "Before, or during the continuance of a northerly wind (polar current), the crystallizations are beautiful (if the mixture is correct, the glass a _fixture_, and duly _placed_); but the least motion of the liquid disturbs them. "When the main currents meet, and turn _toward the west_, making _easterly_ winds, stars are more or less numerous, and the liquid dull, or less clear. When, and while they _combine by the west_, making westerly winds, the liquid is clear, and the crystallization well-defined, without loose stars. "While _any hard_ or _crisp_ features are visible below, above, or at the top of the liquid (where they form for polar winds), there is _plus_ electricity in the air; a _mixture_ of polar current co-existing _in that locality_ with the opposite, or southerly. "When nothing but soft, melting, sugary substance is seen, the atmospheric current (feeble or strong as it may be) is southerly with _minus_ electricity, unmixed with, and _uninfluenced_ by, the contrary wind. "Repeated trials with a delicate galvanometer, applied to measure electric tension in the air, have proved these facts, which are now found useful for aiding, with the barometer and thermometer, in forecasting weather. "Temperature affects the mixture much, but not solely; as many comparisons of winter with summer changes of temperature have fully proved. "A confused appearance of the mixture, with flaky spots, or stars, in motion, and less clearness of the liquid, indicates south-easterly wind, probably strong to a gale. "Clearness of the liquid, with more or less perfect crystallizations, accompanies a combination, or a contest, of the main currents, by the _west_, and very remarkable these differences are,--the results of these air currents acting on each other _from_ eastward, or from an entirely opposite direction, the _west_. "The glass should be wiped clean now and then,--and once or twice a year the mixture should be disturbed, by inverting and gently shaking the glass vial." [Illustration: Fig. 93.] =146. Leslie's Differential Thermometer.=--A glass tube having a large bulb at each extremity, and bent twice at right angles, as represented in figure 93, containing strong sulphuric acid tinged with carmine, and supported at the centre by a wooden stand, constitutes the differential thermometer as invented by Professor Leslie. The instrument is designed to exhibit and measure small differences of temperature. Each leg of the instrument is usually from three to six inches long, and the balls are about four inches apart. The calibre of the legs is about 1/50 inch, not more; the other part of the tube may be wider. The tube is filled with the liquid, the bulbs contain air. When both bulbs are heated alike, each scale indicates zero. The scale is divided so that the space between the freezing and the boiling-points of water is equal to 1,000 parts. When one bulb is heated more than the other, the difference of temperature is delicately shown by the descent of the coloured fluid from the heated ball. It is uninfluenced by changes in the temperature of the atmosphere; hence it is admirably adapted for experiments of radiant heat. The theory of the instrument is that gases expand equally for uniform increments of heat. =147. Rumford's Differential Thermometer= differs from that just described in simply containing only a small bubble of liquid, which lies in the centre of the tube, when both bulbs are similarly influenced. The bulbs and other parts of the tube contain air. When one bulb is more heated than the other, the bubble moves towards the one less heated; and the scale attached to the horizontal part of the tube affords a measurement of the difference of temperature. [Illustration: Fig. 94.] =148. Glaisher's Thermometer Stand.=--The thermometer stand consists of a horizontal board as a base, of a vertical board projecting upwards from one edge of the horizontal one, and of two parallel inclined boards, separated from each other by blocks of three inches in thickness, connected at the top with the vertical, and at the bottom with the horizontal board, and the air passes freely about and between them all. To the top of the inclined boards is connected a small projecting roof to prevent the rain falling on the bulbs of the instrument, which are carried on the face of the vertical board, with their bulbs projecting below it, so that the air plays freely on the bulbs from all sides. The whole frame revolves on an upright post firmly fixed to the ground, as shown in the engraving, fig. 94; and in use, the inclined side is always turned towards the sun. =149. Thermometer Screen, for use at Sea.=--This screen, or shade, was designed by Admiral FitzRoy, and has been in use for several years on board H.M. vessels and many merchant-ships. It is about twenty-four inches long by twelve wide and eight deep; having lattice-work sides, door, and bottom; with perforation also at top, so contrived that the air has free access to the interior, while the direct rays of the sun, rain, and sea spray are effectually excluded from the thermometers mounted inside. There is ample space for two thermometers placed side by side on brackets, at least three inches from each other or any part of the exterior of the screen. One thermometer should be fitted up as a "wet bulb" (see p. 105). A small vessel of water can easily be fixed inside the screen so as to retain its position and contents under the usual motions of the ship; and by means of a piece of cotton-wick, or muslin rag tied round the bulb of the thermometer and trailing into the cup of water, keep the bulb constantly moist. Self-registering thermometers should be protected by a similar screen. It has been found that thermometric observations made at sea are not valuable for scientific purposes unless the instruments have been duly protected by such a screen. =150. Anemoscope=, or Portable Wind Vane for travellers, with compass, bar needle, &c., shows the direct course of the wind to half a point of the compass. [Illustration: Fig. 95.] =151. Evaporating Dish, or Gauge= (fig. 95), for showing the amount of evaporation from the earth's surface. This gauge consists of a brass vessel, the area or evaporating surface of which is accurately determined; and also a glass cylindrical measure, graduated into inches, tenths, and hundredths of inches. In use, the evaporating gauge is nearly filled with water, the quantity having been previously measured by means of the glass cylinder; it is then placed out of doors, freely exposed to the action of the atmosphere; after exposure, the water is again measured, and the difference between the first and second measurement shows the amount of evaporation that has taken place. If rain has fallen during the exposure of the gauge, the quantity collected by it must be deducted from the measured quantity; the amount is shown by the quantity of rain collected in the rain gauge. The wire cage round the gauge is to prevent animals, birds, &c., from drinking the water. =152. Dr. Babington's Atmidometer=, or instrument for measuring the evaporation from water, _ice or snow_, consists of an oblong hollow bulb of glass or copper, beneath which and communicating with it by a contracted neck is a second globular bulb, duly weighted with mercury or shot. The upper bulb is surmounted by a small glass or metal stem, having a scale graduated to grains and half-grains; on the top of which is fixed horizontally a shallow metal pan. The bulbs are immersed in a vessel of water having a circular hole in the cover through which the stem rises. Distilled water is then gradually poured into the pan above, until the zero of the stem sinks to a level with the cover of the vessel. Thus adjusted, as the water in the pan evaporates, the stem ascends, and the amount of evaporation is indicated in grains. This instrument affords a means of measuring evaporation from _ice or snow_. An adjustment for temperature is necessary. =153. Cloud Reflector.=--At the International Exhibition 1862, Mr. J. T. Goddard exhibited a cloud mirror, for ascertaining the direction in which the clouds are moving. The mirror is laid on a horizontal support near a window, and fastened so that the point marked north may coincide with the south point of the horizon,--the several points will consequently be reversed. The edge of a conspicuous cloud is brought to the centre of the mirror, and the observer keeps perfectly still until it passes off at the margin, where the true point of the horizon _from which_ the clouds are coming can be read off. =154. Sunshine Recorder.=--Mr. Goddard also exhibited an instrument which he calls by this name. It works by letting the sun's rays pass through a narrow slit, and fall on photographic paper wound round a barrel moved by clock-work; the paper being changed daily, and the photographic impression developed and fixed in the usual manner.[19] 155. SET OF PORTABLE INSTRUMENTS. In a small box, 8 in. by 8 in. by 4 in., a complete set of meteorological instruments have been packed. The lid of the box, by an ingenious arrangement, is made to take off and hang up; on it are permanently fixed for observation, a maximum and minimum, and a pair of dry and wet bulb thermometers. The interior of the box contains a maximum thermometer in vacuo for solar radiation, and a minimum for terrestrial purposes, one of Negretti and Zambra's small pocket aneroid barometers, pedometer for measuring distances, pocket compass, clinometer, and lastly a rain gauge. This latter instrument consists of an accurately turned brass ring having an india rubber body fastened to it to receive the rain, which is measured off by a small graduated glass, also contained in the box. Gentlemen travelling will find this compact observatory all that can be desired for meteorological observations. 156. IMPLEMENTS. The practical meteorologist will find the following articles very useful, if not necessary. They scarcely require description; an enumeration will therefore suffice:--_Weather Diagrams_, or prepared printed and ruled forms, whereon to exhibit graphically the readings of the various instruments to render their indications useful in foretelling weather, &c.;--_Meteorological Registers_, or Record Books, for recording all observations, and the deductions;--_Cloud Pictures_, by which the clouds can be readily referred to their particular classification, very necessary to the inexperienced and learners;--Cyclone Glasses, or Horns, outline Maps with Wind-markers, are also useful, especially in forecasting weather. 157. HYDROMETER. A simple kind of hydrometer is very much used at sea, as "a sea-water test;" and as the observations are usually recorded in a meteorological register or the ship's log-book, it may not be altogether out of place to give a description of it here. [Illustration: Fig. 96.] [Illustration: Fig. 97.] It is constructed of glass. If made of brass, the corrosive action of salt-water soon renders the instrument erroneous in its indications. The shapes usually given to the instruments are shown in figs. 96 and 97. A globular bulb is blown, and partly filled with mercury or small shot, to make the instrument float steadily in a vertical position. From the neck of the bulb the glass is expanded into an oval or a cylindrical shape, to give the instrument sufficient volume for flotation; finally, it is tapered off to a narrow upright stem which encloses an ivory scale, and is closed at the top. The divisions on the scale read downward, so as to measure the length of the stem which stands above the surface of any liquid in which the hydrometer is floated. The denser the fluid, the higher will the instrument rise; the rarer, the lower it will sink. The indications depend upon the hydrostatic principle, that floating bodies displace a quantity of the fluid which sustains them equal to their own weight. According, therefore, as the specific gravities of fluids differ from each other, so will vary the quantities of the fluids displaced by the same body when floated successively in each. The specific gravity of distilled water, at the temperature of 62° _F_, being taken as unity, the depth to which the instrument sinks when gently immersed in such water is the zero of the scale. The graduations extend from 0 to 40; the latter being the mark which will be level with the surface when the instrument is placed in water, the specific gravity of which is 1·040. In recording observations, the last two figures only--being the figures on the scale--are written down. Sea-water usually ranges from 1·020 to 1·036. A small tin, copper, or glass cylinder is useful for containing the water to be tested. It should be wider than the hydrometer, and always filled to the brim. If fitted to a stand, which is supported by gimbals, it will be very convenient. Water in a bucket, basin, or other wide vessel, acquires motion at sea, and the eye cannot be brought low enough (on account of the edges) to read off the scale accurately. Errors of observation may occur with the hydrometer, if it be put into water without being clean, or without being carefully wiped. The instrument is extremely accurate if correctly used. It should be kept free from contact with the sides of the vessel; and all dust, smears, or greasiness, should be scrupulously avoided, by carefully wiping it with a clean cloth before and after use. Whenever the temperature of the water tested differs from 62°, a correction to the reading is necessary, for the expansion or contraction of the glass, as well as the water itself, in order to reduce all observations to one generally adopted standard. Negretti and Zambra's hydrometer, with thermometer in the stem, shows the density and temperature in one instrument. For the following Tables we are indebted to the kindness of Admiral FitzRoy:-- TABLE for reducing observations made with a BRASS HYDROMETER, assuming the linear expansion of brass to be 0·000009555 for 1° F. The correction is additive for all temperatures above 62°, and subtractive for temperatures below 62°. +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ |_t°_|Correction.||_t°_|Correction.||_t°_|Correction.||_t°_|Correction.| |----+-----------++----+-----------++----+-----------++----+-----------| | 32 | -0·0014 || 48 | -0·0010 || 64 | +0·0002 || 80 | +0·0020 | | 33 | ·0014 || 49 | ·0009 || 65 | ·0003 || 81 | ·0021 | | 34 | ·0014 || 50 | ·0009 || 66 | ·0004 || 82 | ·0023 | | 35 | ·0014 || 51 | -0·0008 || 67 | ·0005 || 83 | ·0024 | | 36 | ·0014 || 52 | ·0008 || 68 | +0·0006 || 84 | ·0026 | | 37 | ·0014 || 53 | ·0007 || 69 | ·0007 || 85 | +0·0027 | | 38 | -0·0014 || 54 | ·0006 || 70 | ·0008 || 86 | ·0029 | | 39 | ·0013 || 55 | ·0006 || 71 | ·0009 || 87 | ·0030 | | 40 | ·0013 || 56 | -0·0005 || 72 | ·0010 || 88 | ·0032 | | 41 | ·0013 || 57 | ·0004 || 73 | ·0011 || 89 | ·0033 | | 42 | ·0013 || 58 | ·0003 || 74 | +0·0013 || 90 | +0·0035 | | 43 | ·0012 || 59 | ·0003 || 75 | ·0014 || 91 | ·0036 | | 44 | -0·0012 || 60 | ·0002 || 76 | ·0015 || 92 | ·0038 | | 45 | ·0011 || 61 | -0·0001 || 77 | ·0016 || 93 | ·0040 | | 46 | ·0011 || 62 | 0·0000 || 78 | ·0018 || 94 | ·0041 | | 47 | -0·0010 || 63 | +0·0001 || 79 | +0·0019 || 95 | +0·0043 | +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ TABLE for reducing observations made with a GLASS HYDROMETER, assuming the linear expansion of glass to be 0·00000463 for 1° F. The correction is additive for temperatures above 62°, and subtractive for temperatures below 62°. +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ |_t°_|Correction.||_t°_|Correction.||_t°_|Correction.||_t°_|Correction.| |----+-----------++----+-----------++----+-----------++----+-----------| | 32 | -0·0019 || 48 | -0·0012 || 64 | +0·0002 || 80 | +0·0023 | | 33 | ·0019 || 49 | ·0011 || 65 | ·0003 || 81 | ·0024 | | 34 | ·0018 || 50 | ·0011 || 66 | ·0004 || 82 | ·0026 | | 35 | ·0018 || 51 | -0·0010 || 67 | ·0005 || 83 | ·0027 | | 36 | ·0018 || 52 | ·0009 || 68 | +0·0007 || 84 | ·0029 | | 37 | ·0017 || 53 | ·0008 || 69 | ·0008 || 85 | +0·0031 | | 38 | -0·0017 || 54 | ·0008 || 70 | ·0009 || 86 | ·0032 | | 39 | ·0017 || 55 | ·0007 || 71 | ·0010 || 87 | ·0034 | | 40 | ·0016 || 56 | -0·0006 || 72 | ·0012 || 88 | ·0036 | | 41 | ·0016 || 57 | ·0005 || 73 | ·0013 || 89 | ·0037 | | 42 | ·0015 || 58 | ·0004 || 74 | +0·0014 || 90 | +0·0039 | | 43 | ·0015 || 59 | ·0003 || 75 | ·0016 || 91 | ·0041 | | 44 | -0·0014 || 60 | ·0002 || 76 | ·0017 || 92 | ·0042 | | 45 | ·0014 || 61 | -0·0001 || 77 | ·0018 || 93 | ·0044 | | 46 | ·0013 || 62 | 0·0000 || 78 | ·0020 || 94 | ·0046 | | 47 | -0·0013 || 63 | +0·0001 || 79 | +0·0021 || 95 | +0·0048 | +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ 158. NEWMAN'S SELF-REGISTERING TIDE-GAUGE. At places where the phenomena of the tides are of much maritime importance, a continuous series of observations upon the rise and fall, and times of change, is essentially necessary as a basis for the construction of good tide tables; and as such observations should also be accompanied with the registration of atmospheric phenomena, we have no hesitation in inserting a description of an accurate self-registering tide-gauge. The tide-gauge, as shown in the illustration, consists of a cylinder, _A_, which is made to revolve on its axis once in twenty-four hours by the action of the clock, _B_. A chain, to which is attached the float, _D_, passes over the wheel, _C_, and on the axis of this wheel, _C_ (in about the middle of it) is a small toothed wheel, placed so as to be in contact with a larger toothed wheel carrying a cylinder, _E_, over which passes another smaller chain. This chain, passing along the upper surface of the cylinder, _A_, and round a second cylinder, _F_, at its further end, is acted on by a spring so as to be kept in a constant state of tension. In the middle of this chain a small tube is fixed for carrying a pencil, which, being gently pressed down by means of a small weight on the top of it, performs the duty of marking on paper placed round the cylinder the progress of the rise or fall of the tide as the cylinder revolves, and as it is drawn by the chain forward or backward by the rise or fall of the float. The paper is prepared with lines equidistant from each other, to correspond with the hours of the clock, crossed by others showing the number of feet of rise and fall. [Illustration] The cylinder while in action revolves from left to right to a spectator facing the clock, and the pencil is carried horizontally along the top of the cylinder; and the large wheel being made to revolve by the rise and fall of the float, turns the wheel with the small cylinder, _E_, attached to it. If the tide is _falling_, the small chain is wound round the cylinder, _E_, and the pencil is drawn towards the large wheel; but if the tide is _rising_, the small chain is wound on to the cylinder, _F_, by means of the spring contained in it, which constantly keeps it in a state of tension. Thus, by means of the rise and fall of the tide, a lateral progress is given to the pencil, while the cylinder is made to revolve on its axis by the clock, so that a line is traced on the paper showing the exact state of the tide continuously, without further attention than is necessary to change the paper once every day, and to keep the pencil carefully pointed; or a metallic pencil may be used, which will require little, if any, attention. A good self-registering tide-gauge is a valuable and important acquisition wherever tidal observations are required, and the only perfectly efficient instrument of this kind is that invented by the late Mr. John Newman, of Regent Street, London. It is now in action in several parts of the world, silently and _faithfully_ performing its duty, requiring no other kind of attention than that of a few minutes daily, and thus admitting the employment of the person on any other service whose duty it would otherwise have been to have registered the tide. It has done much by its faithful records in contributing to the construction of good tide tables for many places; for those unavoidable defects dependent on merely watching the surface on a divided scale are set aside by it, all erroneous conclusions excluded, and a true delineation of Nature's own making is preserved by it for the theorist. ADDENDA. 1. French barometers are graduated to millimetres. An English inch is equal to 25·39954 millimetres. Hence, 30 inches on the English barometer scales correspond to 762 millimetres on the French barometer scales. Conversions from one scale to another can be effected by the following formulæ:-- (1) Inches = millimetres divided by 25·39954 (2) Millimetres = inches multiplied by 25·39954 Of course, a table of equivalent values should be drawn up and employed, when a large number of observations are to be converted from one scale to the other. 2. In Germany, barometers are sometimes graduated with old French inches and lines,--the vernier generally indicating the tenth of a line. OLD FRENCH LINEAL MEASURE. English Inches. 1 douzième, or point = 0·0074 12 points = 1 ligne = 0·0888 12 lignes = 1 pouce = 1·065765 12 pouces = 1 pied = 12·7892 1 pied = 324·7 millimetres. "The Germans indicate inches by putting two accents after the number; lines, by putting three accents; 27" 3'''·85, means 27 inches 3 lines 85 hundredths of a line; more frequently, they give the height in lines, and the preceding number becomes 327'''·85."--_Kaemtz._ 3. _Rule for finding Diameter of Bore of a Barometer Tube._ "If the maker has not taken care to measure the interior diameter directly, it may be deduced from the exterior diameter. The exterior diameter is first measured by calipers, and, by deducting from this diameter 0·1 of an inch for tubes from ·3 to ·5 of an inch in external diameter, we have an approximation to the interior diameter of the tube."--_Kaemtz._ 4. WIND SCALES. Sea Scale. Wind. Land Scale. ---------- ----- ----------- 0 to 3 = Light = 0 to 1 3 " 5 = Moderate = 1 " 2 5 " 7 = Fresh = 2 " 3 7 " 8 = Strong = 3 " 4 8 " 10 = Heavy = 4 " 5 10 " 12 = Violent = 5 " 6 Pressure in Velocity in Pounds (Land Scale). Miles (Avoirdupois) (Hourly). ------------- --------- ----------- 1/2 = 1 = 10 5 = 2 = 32 10 = 3 = 45 21 = 4 = 65 26 = 5 = 72 32 = 6 = 80 5. Letters to Denote the State of the Weather. _b_ denotes blue sky, whether with clear or hazy atmosphere. _c_ " cloudy, that is detached opening clouds. _d_ " drizzling rain. _f_ " fog. _h_ " hail. _l_ " lightning. _m_ " misty, or hazy so as to interrupt the view. _o_ " overcast, gloomy, dull. _p_ " passing showers. _q_ " squally. _r_ " rain. _s_ " snow. _t_ " thunder. _u_ " ugly, threatening appearance of sky. _v_ " unusual visibility of distant objects. _w_ " wet, that is dew. A letter repeated denotes much, as _r r_, heavy rain; _f f_, dense fog; and a figure attached denotes duration in hours, as 14 _r_, 14 hours rain. By the combination of these letters, all the ordinary phenomena of the weather may be recorded with certainty and brevity. EXAMPLES.--_b c_, blue sky with less proportion of cloud. 2 _r r l l t_, heavy rain for two hours, with much lightning, and some thunder. The above methods of recording the force of wind and state of weather were originally proposed by Admiral Sir Francis Beaufort. They are now in general use at sea, and by many observers on land. 6. Table of Expansion by Heat from 32° to 212° F. Platinum 0·0008842 of the length. Glass, Flint 0·0008117 " " with Lead 0·0008622 " Brass 0·0018708 " Mercury 0·0180180 " Water 0·0433200, from 39° to 212° Alcohol 0·1100 " 32° to 174° Nitric Acid 0·1100 Sulphuric Acid 0·0600 7. Table of Specific Gravity of Bodies at 32° F. except water, which is taken at 39°·4. Water 1·000 Alcohol, pure 0·791 " proof 0·916 Mercury 13·596 Glass 3 to 2·7 Brass 7·8 to 8·54 Platinum 21 to 22·00 Weight of a cubic foot of water, at the temperature of comparison, 62·425 lbs. avoirdupois. The pound avoirdupois contains 7,000 grains. Air is 813·67 times lighter than water. The linear expansions are the mean values of the results of various experimentalists. The specific gravities are as given in Professor Rankine's _Applied Mechanics_. 8. Important Temperatures. Under the circumstances of-- ° Water boiling at 212 Mercury boils at 660 Sulphuric Acid " 590 Oil of Turpentine " 560 Nitric Acid " 242 Alcohol " 174 A Saturated Solution of Salt " 218 Vital Heat 96 Olive Oil begins to solidify 36 Fresh Water freezes 32 Sea Water freezes 28 Mercury freezes -39 9. TABLE OF METEOROLOGICAL ELEMENTS, FORMING EXPONENTS OF THE CLIMATE OF LONDON. --------------------------------------------------------------------+ 1841 |Mean Height of Barometer, reduced to 32° F., at the mean | to | sea-level. | 1861. | +--------------------------------------------------| | |Mean Monthly Range of Barometer. | Months. | | +---------------------------------------------| | | |Mean of all the Highest Temperatures. | | | | +----------------------------------------| | | | |Mean of all the Lowest Temperatures. | | | | | +-----------------------------------| | | | | |Mean Temperature. | | | | | | +------------------------------| | | | | | |Mean Temperature of Dew-point.| | | | | | | +-------------------------| | | | | | | |Mean Degree of Humidity. | | | | | | | | +----------------------| | | | | | | | |Mean Number of Rainy | | | | | | | | | Days. | | | | | | | | | +------------------| | | | | | | | | |Average Rainfall. | | | | | | | | | | +-------------| | | | | | | | | | |Average | | | | | | | | | | |Amount of | | | | | | | | | | |Cloud (10= | | | | | | | | | | | overcast). | | | | | | | | | | | +---------| | | | | | | | | | | |Prevalent| | | | | | | | | | | |Winds. | ---------+-------+----+----+----+----+----+--+---+----+---+---------+ |Inches.| In.| ° | ° | ° | ° | | | In.| | | ---------+-------+----+----+----+----+----+--+---+----+---+---------+ January | 29·932|1·44|43·2|33·7|38·3|35·4|89| 11| 1·8|7·7|W. to N. | | | | | | | | | | | | | February | 29·962|1·22|44·7|33·2|38·4|34·4|85| 10| 1·6|7·4|S. to W. | | | | | | | | | | | | | March | 29·967|1·23|50·0|35·3|41·7|36·4|82| 10| 1·5|6·6|N. to E. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | April | 29·907|1·06|56·8|38·6|46·3|39·9|79| 11| 1·8|6·1|N. to E. | | | | | | | | | | | | | May | 29·931|1·02|64·4|44·2|52·8|45·5|76| 11| 2·1|6·1|S. to W. | | | | | | | | | | | | | June | 29·960|0·89|71·2|50·2|59·2|50·8|74| 11| 1·9|6·1|W. to N. | | | | | | | | | | | | | July | 29·970|0·79|73·8|53·2|61·9|53·9|76| 11| 2·7|6·9|W. to N. | | | | | | | | | | | | | August | 29·954|0·97|72·8|53·4|61·3|54·1|77| 11| 2·4|6·5|W. to N. | | | | | | | | | | | | | September| 29·997|0·95|67·4|48·9|56·9|51·1|81| 12| 2·4|5·9|S. to W. | | | | | | | | | | | | | October | 29·860|1·33|58·3|43·7|50·2|46·0|87| 13| 2·8|6·9|S. to W. | | | | | | | | | | | | | November | 29·929|1·53|49·3|37·7|43·4|40·1|89| 12| 2·4|7·2| S.W. | | | | | | | | | | | | | December | 29·979|1·52|45·0|35·5|40·1|36·9|89| 12| 1·9|7·4| W. | | | | | | | | | | | | | ---------+-------+----+----+----+----+----+--+---+----+---+---------+ Year | 29·946|1·16|58·0|42·3|49·2|43·7|82|133|25·3|6·7| -- | ---------+-------+----+----+----+----+----+--+---+----+---+---------+ 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 --------------------------------------------------------------------- +-----------------------------------------------------+ |Sun above the Horizon on Middle Day. | | +---------------------------------------------| | |REMARKS. | ---------+-------+---------------------------------------------| | Hours.| | ---------+-------+---------------------------------------------| January | 8-1/2|The majority of the nights are frosty. | | | | February | 10 |10 frosty nights on the average. | | | | March | 12 |12 ditto ditto ditto. | | | Strong winds. | | | | April | 14 | 6 ditto ditto ditto. | | | | May | 15-1/2|Very rarely frost. | | | | June | 16-1/2|Sun attains greatest North Declination, 21st.| | | | July | 16 | | | | | August | 14-1/2| | | | | September| 12-1/2| | | | | October | 10-1/2|A few frosty nights. Heavy gales. | | | | November | 9 | 11 nights frosty. | | | | December | 8 |Sun attains greatest South Declination, 21st.| | | | ---------+-------+---------------------------------------------| Year | -- | | ---------+-------+---------------------------------------------| 12 13 | ---------------------------------------------------------------+ In the above Table, columns 1 to 10 are results obtained at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, by J. Glaisher, Esq., F.R.S. The data contained in columns 2 and 10, are deduced from observations extending over the years 1841 to 1855 inclusive, and are copied from Edward Hughes' _Third Reading Book_; the other columns are results of observations made during the twenty years ending 1861. The rest of the information is from Luke Howard's _Climate of London_. These valuable data indicate the characteristics of the weather in each month in the suburbs of London, and will be found tolerably accurate as indications of weather, and serviceable as standards for comparisons of observed results, at most places in England. STANDARD WORKS ON METEOROLOGY SUPPLIED BY NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA. THE WEATHER BOOK: A MANUAL OF PRACTICAL METEOROLOGY. By Vice-Admiral FITZROY, F.R.S., M.I.F., &c. _Price_, £0 15 6 THE LAW OF STORMS, By H. W. DOVE, F.R.S. Translated by R. H. SCOTT, M.A. _Price_, £0 10 6 L. F. KÆMTZ'S "COMPLETE COURSE OF METEOROLOGY," Translated by C. V. WALKER, Esq. _Price_, £0 12 6 PRACTICAL METEOROLOGY, By JOHN DREW, Ph.D., F.R.A.S. _Price_, £0 5 0 HYGROMETRICAL TABLES, Adapted to the use of the Wet and Dry Bulb Thermometer, By JAMES GLAISHER, Esq., F.R.S. _Price_, £0 2 6 TABLES OF THE CORRECTIONS FOR TEMPERATURES, To reduce observations to the 32° Fahrenheit, for Barometers with brass scales extending from the cistern to the top of the mercurial column, By JAMES GLAISHER, Esq., F.R.S. _Price_, £0 1 0 TABLE OF THE DIURNAL RANGE OF THE BAROMETER, By JAMES GLAISHER, Esq., F.R.S. _Price_, £0 0 6 TABLES FOR CALCULATION OF HEIGHTS FROM OBSERVATIONS ON THE BOILING-POINT OF WATER, Adapted to the use of Negretti and Zambra's Boiling-point Apparatus. _Price_, £0 1 0 A THERMOMETRICAL TABLE, ON THE SCALES OF FAHRENHEIT, REAUMUR, AND CENTIGRADE, By ALFRED S. TAYLOR, Esq., M.D., &c. _Price_, in Sheet, with explanatory Pamphlet, £0 1 6 METEOROLOGICAL TABLES, For the reduction of Barometrical and Hygrometrical Observations, Determination of Heights by the Barometer and Boiling-point Thermometer, &c. By G. HARVEY SIMMONDS, M.B.M.S. _Price_, £0 2 6 BAROMETER MANUAL, Compiled by Vice-Admiral FITZROY, F.R.S., For the Board of Trade. _Price_, £0 0 6 POCKET METEOROLOGICAL REGISTER AND NOTE-BOOK, With Diagrams for exhibiting the Fluctuations of Barometer, &c. Printed on metallic paper. _Price_, with Pencil, £0 3 0 LONDON: PRINTED BY STRAHAN AND WILLIAMS, 7 LAWRENCE LAND, CHEAPSIDE, E.C. NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA'S PATENT RECORDING AND DEEP-SEA THERMOMETER.[20] This Thermometer differs from all other Registering or Recording Thermometers in the following important particulars:-- I. The Thermometer contains only Mercury without any admixture of Alcohol or other fluid. II. It has no indices or springs, and its indications are by the column of Mercury only. III. It can be carried in any position, and cannot possibly be put out of order except by actual breakage of the instrument. And lastly, it will indicate and record the exact temperature at any hour of the day or night, or the exact temperature at any depth of the sea, irrespective of either warm or cold currents, or stratum through which the Thermometer may have to pass in its descent or ascent, this last very special quality renders this Thermometer superior for deep-sea temperatures to any others; for those now being used in the "Challenger" sounding expedition are liable to give erroneous indications owing to their indices slipping, and otherwise getting deranged--(This was proved by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra at a Meeting of the British Meteorological Society,) and _under certain conditions of temperature_ it is not possible by the old Thermometers to obtain true temperatures at certain depths which might be required. _Annexed is a copy of a report to the Admiralty from Captain G. S. Nares, of H.M.S. "Challenger," dated Melbourne, March 25th, 1874, which we have taken from NATURE, July 30th, 1874, proving the assertion._ "In the report to the Admiralty of Capt. G. S. Nares, of H.M.S. _Challenger_ dated Melbourne, March 25, 1874, Capt. Nares, speaking of the temperature of the ocean, especially near the pack edge of the ice, says:--'At a short distance from the pack, the surface water rose to 32°, but at a depth of 40 fathoms we always found the temperature to be 29°; this continued to 300 fathoms, the depth in which most of the icebergs float, after which there is a stratum of slightly warmer water of 33° or 34°. As the thermometers had to pass through these two belts of water before reaching the bottom, the indices registered those temperatures, and it was impossible to obtain the exact temperature of the bottom whilst near the ice, but the observations made in lower latitudes show that it is about 31°. More exact results could not have been obtained even had Mr. Siemens's apparatus been on board.' It seems to us that the difficulty mentioned is one which would certainly have been surmounted by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra's new Recording Thermometers, a description of which appeared in NATURE, vol. ix. p. 387; this being exactly one of the cases to which this instrument is peculiarly adapted. We believe the inventors and makers have greatly improved their Thermometer since our description appeared, and no doubt means will be taken by the Admiralty to transmit one to the _Challenger_." DESCRIPTION OF THE DEEP-SEA RECORDING THERMOMETER. In the first place, it must be observed that the bulb of the Thermometer is protected so as to resist the pressure of the ocean, which varies according to depth that of three thousand fathoms being something like three tons pressure on the square inch. The manner of protecting the bulb was invented by Messrs. Negretti and Zambra in 1857, and has been latterly copied by other persons and brought out as a new invention. The manner of protecting the bulb has been described by the late Admiral R. FitzRoy, in the first number of Meteorological Papers, page 55, published July 5th, 1857, as follows: "Referring to the erroneous readings of all thermometers, consequent on their delicate bulbs being compressed by the great pressure of the ocean, he says:--'With a view to obviate this failing, Messrs. Negretti and Zambra undertook to make a case for the weak bulbs, which should transmit temperature, but resist pressure. Accordingly a tube of thick glass is sealed outside the delicate bulb, between which and the casing is a space all round, which is nearly filled with mercury. The small space not so filled is a vacuum, into which the mercury can be expanded, or forced by heat or mechanical compression, without doing injury to or even compressing the inner or much more delicate bulb.'" [Illustration: Fig. 1.] The construction of this instrument for deep-sea temperatures is as follows:-- In shape it is like a syphon with parallel legs, all in one piece and having a continuous communication, as in the annexed figure. The scale of the Thermometer is pivoted on a centre and being attached in a perpendicular position to a simple apparatus (which will be presently described), is lowered to any depth that may be desired. In its descent the Thermometer acts as an ordinary instrument, the mercury rising or falling according to the temperature of the stratum through which it passes; but so soon as the descent ceases, and a reverse motion is given to the line, so as to pull the Thermometer towards the surface, the instrument turns once on its centre, first bulb uppermost, and afterwards bulb downwards. This causes the mercury, which was in the left-hand column, first to pass into the dilated syphon bend at the top, and thence into the right-hand tube, where it remains, indicating on a graduated scale the exact temperature at the time it was turned over. The woodcut, Fig. 1, shows the position of the mercury _after_ the instrument has been thus turned on its centre. A is the bulb; B the outer coating or protecting cylinder; C is the space of rarefied air, which is reduced if the outer casing be compressed; D is a small glass plug on the principle of Negretti and Zambra's Patent Maximum Thermometer, which cuts off, in the moment of turning, the mercury in the tube from that of the bulb, thereby ensuring that none but the mercury in the tube can be transferred into the indicating column; E is an enlargement made in the bend so as to enable the mercury to pass quickly from one tube to another in revolving; and F is the indicating tube or Thermometer proper. In its action, as soon as the Thermometer is put in motion, and immediately the tube has acquired a slightly oblique position, the mercury breaks off at the point D, runs into the curved and enlarged portion E, and eventually falls into the tube F when this tube resumes its original perpendicular position. The contrivance for turning the Thermometer over may be described as a frame with a vertical propeller; to this frame the instrument is pivoted. On its descent through the water the propeller is lifted out of gear and revolves freely on its axis; but so soon as the instrument is pulled towards the surface the propeller falls into gear and revolves in the contrary direction, turning the Thermometer over once, and then becoming locked and immovable. _Directions for adjusting the Thermometer previous to its being lowered in the Sea._ I. The mercury must all be in the left-hand column. II. The short peg at the back of the thermometer must be in front of the stop plate S +; in order to effect this, pull the knob which stops the Thermometer, and slightly turn the propeller, to make the Thermometer advance sufficiently to escape the stop plate. Negretti & Zambra's Patent Atmospheric Recording Thermometer, Fig. 3, differs from the Deep-sea Thermometer by its not having the double or protected bulb, it not being required for resisting pressures. In this case the instrument is turned over by a simple clock movement, which can be set to any hour it may be desirable; the Thermometer is fixed on the clock, and when the hand arrives at the hour determined upon, and to which the clock is set as in setting an alarum clock, a spring is released and the Thermometer turns over as before described. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] [Illustration: Fig. 3.] Messrs. Negretti and Zambra have arranged a Wet and Dry Bulb Hygrometer upon the same plan. NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA'S PRICE LIST OF STANDARD METEOROLOGICAL AND OTHER PHILOSOPHICAL INSTRUMENTS. _The marginal figures in this List and the numbers of the wood engravings refer to paragraphs in "Negretti & Zambra's Treatise on Meteorological Instruments."_ £ s. d. 4 =Standard Barometers=, Fortin's arrangement, as Fig. 3 with mahogany board 8 8 0 Ditto ditto with Millemetre and English scales 9 9 0 Ditto ditto with tube, 0·45 internal diameter and millimetre scale 10 10 0 =Observatory Standard Barometers=, extra large tubes and cisterns £25 0 0 35 0 0 Ditto ditto arranged for observations being taken by the Cathetometer 18 18 0 =Cathetometer=, for use with above 21 0 0 9 =Self Compensating Standard Barometer=, Fig. 6 20 0 0 10 =Standard Barometer=, with electrical adjustment 15 15 0 11 =Pediment Barometers=, Fig 7 £1 1 0 2 2 0 Ditto ditto Fig. 8 £3 3 0 3 10 0 Ditto ditto Fig. 9 £4 10 0 5 10 0 Ditto ditto Fig. 10 8 10 0 Ditto ditto ditto handsome carved mountings, in mahogany, oak, or walnut wood £8 8 0 £10 10 0 12 12 0 14 =FitzRoy's Storm or Sea Coast Fishery Barometer=, Fig. 12 5 5 0 Ditto ditto with two verniers 6 6 0 Ditto ditto mounted in ornamental carved frames, oak, walnut, or mahogany £6 10 0 8 8 0 19 =Marine Barometers=, ordinary forms, Figs. 13 and 14 £2 2s. £2 10s. 3 3 0 Ditto ditto Best mounted £5 5s. 6 6 0 20 =The Board of Trade or Kew Marine Barometer=, Fig. 15, £4 4s. £5 5s. 6 6 0 22 =Negretti and Zambra's FitzRoy Marine or Gun Barometer=, Fig. 16, with N. and Z.'s Patent Porcelain Scales, as used in Her Majesty's Navy 5 10 0 Extra Tube for ditto 1 15 0 25 =Negretti and Zambra's Farmer's Barometer or Domestic Weather Glass=, Fig. 17 2 10 0 28 =Negretti and Zambra's Miner's Barometers= £1 1s. £2 2s. 3 3 0 31 =Dial or Wheel Barometers=, Figs. 18, 19, 20, 21 £3 3s. £4 4s. 5 5 0 Ditto ditto in carved ornamental mountings £5 10s. £6 6s. £8 8s. 10 10 0 Ditto ditto rosewood, inlaid with pearl or metal. Made to order, Figs. 22 and 23. Price varying with size, &c. 37 =Gay Lussac's Syphon Tube Mountain Barometer= £6 6 0 8 8 0 32 =Standard Syphon Barometer=, Gay Lussac's arrangement, Fig. 24 5 5 0 38 =Negretti and Zambra's Standard Mountain Barometer=, with Fortin's cistern, with tripod stand and travelling case, Fig. 30 10 10 0 34 =Barograph, or Self-registering Barometer=, with syphon mercurial tube. Negretti and Zambra's improved arrangement, Fig. 26 18 18 0 25 0 0 =Negretti and Zambra's Self-recording Aneroid Barometer=, with =Clock= 22 0 0 48. =ANEROID BAROMETERS.= =Aneroid Barometers,= with card dials 4-1/2 inches diameter, best quality. 2 10 0 Ditto ditto with silvered metal dial 3 0 0 Ditto ditto with ditto and thermometer 3 10 0 Ditto ditto ditto with corrected scale, as supplied by Negretti and Zambra to the Royal Navy 5 5 0 =Aneroid Barometers=, with elegantly-chased dials 4 4 0 Ditto ditto with raised ring on dial 5 5 0 Ditto ditto ditto with thermometer 6 6 0 =Aneroid Barometer=, for altitude measurements with revolving ring, carrying index, range of scale 20,000 feet 4-1/2 inches diameter, with magnifier 8 8 0 =POCKET ANEROID BAROMETERS.= Fig. 34. 49 =Pocket Aneroid Barometer=, 2-3/4 inches diameter, with silvered metal scale 3 3 0 Ditto ditto for measuring altitudes to 10,000 feet compensated for temperature, in leather case 5 5 0 Ditto ditto ditto to 20,000 feet, with magnifier 6 6 0 50 =WATCH-SIZE ANEROID BAROMETERS= in gilt metal cases (see figure 35.) =Watch-Size Aneroid Barometer=, weather range £3 3 0 4 4 0 Ditto ditto of best construction, extra thin, for meteorological observations or altitude measurements to 10,000 feet 5 5 0 Ditto ditto ditto to 20,000 feet, compensated for temperature 6 6 0 Either of the above Watch-size Barometers may be had in Stout Silver Cases at a cost of £2 2s. extra _Watch-size Aneroid Barometers in Solid Gold, highly-finished cases. £15 15s. to £21._ Table Stands for Aneroid Barometers of Carved Oak or other woods, 10s. 6d., 25s., 35s., to £5 5s. =Ships' Aneroid Barometers=, in suitable mountings £2 10s. £3 3s. £5 5s. £6 6s. 47 =Sympiesometer=, for Ship use £3 3 0 4 10 0 Ditto ditto Pocket form, Fig. 32 4 4 0 The Sympiesometer is now rarely used, the Aneroid Barometer being found equally sensitive and less liable to derangement. 56 =Independent Standard Thermometers=, Fig. 36 5 5 0 57 =Standard Thermometers=, for Boiling Point Apparatus 1 10 0 =Chemists' or Brewers' Standard Reference Thermometers= £1 1s. 2 2 0 47 =Chemical Thermometers=, divided on the stem. Fig. 48. 10s. 6d. 0 15 0 =Chemical Thermometers=, Boxwood Scale 7s. 6d. 10s. 6d. 0 12 6 64 =Thermometers on Boxwood Scales=, Fig. 37. 1s. 1s. 6d. 2s. 6d. 3s. 6d. 0 4 6 Ditto ditto larger sizes 7s. 6d. 0 12 6 Ditto ditto Engraved glass scales, Fig. 39 15s. £1 1s. £1 5s. 1 10 0 =POCKET THERMOMETERS, IN VARIOUS MOUNTINGS.= Fig. 38 10s. 6d. Fig. 40 10s. 6d. 15s. Fig. 41 5s. 6d. 8s. 6d. 12s. 6d. 63 =Thermometers of extreme Sensitiveness=, 15s. £1 10s. 2 2 0 =Drawing Room or Mantel Thermometers=, various mountings, Figs. 42 and 43. 12s. 6d. 15s. £1 1s. £1 10s. £2 2s. 2 10 0 =Bracket Window Thermometers=, Fig. 46 12s. 6d. 15s. £1 1s. 1 10 0 =Bath Thermometers=, Figs. 44 7s. 6d. 0 15 0 66 =Sugar Boiling Thermometers= £1 12s. £2 2s. 3 3 0 67 =Earth Thermometers=, Fig. 51 £1 10s. 2 2 0 Hot Bed Ditto 12s. 6d. £1 5s. 1 10 0 68 =Marine Thermometer=, Fig. 52 7s. 6d. 8s. 6d. 0 10 6 65 =Super Heated or Steam Pressure Thermometers=, Fig. 74, Figs. 49 and 50 £1 5s. £1 10s. £2 2s. 2 10 0 =SELF-REGISTERING THERMOMETERS FOR HEAT.= 72 =Negretti and Zambra's Patent Standard Maximum Self-Registering Thermometer=,[21] Fig. 54 1 1 0 72 =Negretti and Zambra's Patent Maximum Thermometer=, on boxwood scale 0 10 6 Ditto, ditto, on Negretti and Zambra's Patent Solid Porcelain or Metal Scales on oak mounting 0 12 6 70 =Rutherford's Maximum Thermometer=, on boxwood or metal scale, with steel index 5s. 6d. 7s. 6d. 0 10 6 71 =Phillip's Maximum Thermometer=, on boxwood or metal scale, with air index 7s. 6d. 10 6 0 12 6 =SELF-REGISTERING THERMOMETERS FOR COLD.= 73 =Negretti and Zambra's Standard Minimum Self-Registering Thermometer=, Fig. 55 1 1 0 73 =Rutherford's Minimum Thermometer=, on boxwood or metal scale 3s. 6d. 5s. 6d. 7s. 6d. 0 10 6 73 =Rutherford's Minimum Thermometer=, on Negretti and Zambra's Patent solid porcelain scale 10s. 6d. 0 12 6 Ditto, on Negretti and Zambra's porcelain or metal scales and oak mounting 0 12 6 74 =Negretti and Zambra's Horticultural Self-Registering Thermometer.= The scale is made of stout zinc, enclosing the tube; the figures and divisions are boldly marked for quickly and easily reading the indications, Fig. 56 0 3 6 83 =Negretti and Zambra's Patent Solar Radiation Thermometer=, Fig. 63 1 5 0 84 Ditto, ditto, ditto, in vacuo, Fig. 64 1 10 0 Ditto, ditto, ditto, improved form, with test gauge 2 2 0 85 =Negretti and Zambra's Terrestrial Radiation Thermometer= 1 5 0 Brass Stands for above, Fig. 65 0 5 0 76 and 77 =Negretti and Zambra's Patent Mercurial Minimum Thermometers= £2 10s. 2 2 0 81 =Maxima and Minima Thermometers=, on Sixe's arrangement, Fig. 62, various forms of mounting 12s. 6d. 14s. 21s. 30s. 2 2 0 =Pocket Maxima and Minima Thermometers=, Negretti and Zambra's Patent, in convenient cases £2 2s. 2 10 0 89 =Deep Sea Registering Thermometer=, with Negretti and Zambra's improved protected bulb, in copper cylinder, Fig. 69. 2 10 0 89[21] =Negretti and Zambra's Improved Deep Sea Thermometer=, with vulcanite mountings, in copper cylinder, with door, small size 2 5 0 90 =Negretti and Zambra's Patent Recording Deep Sea Thermometer= 10 10 0 91 Ditto, ditto, ditto =Recording Thermometer= 4 4 0 92 Ditto, ditto, ditto =Hygrometer= 6 6 0 93 =Improved Boiling Point Mountain Thermometer=, or Hypsometric Apparatus, with Tables, Figs. 72 and 73, in leather case with strap 5 5 0 Extra Thermometer for Ditto 1 10 0 106 =Negretti and Zambra's Standard Wet and Dry Bulb Hygrometer=, Fig. 79 2 2 0 Wet and Dry Bulb Hygrometers, various mountings 30s. 25s. 21s. 14s. 0 10 6 Pocket Hygrometers, in box £2 2s. 2 10 0 103 =Daniell's Hygrometer=, Fig. 77 3 3 0 104 =Regnault's Hygrometer=, Fig. 78 £3 10s. 5 5 0 Aspirator for Ditto £1 15s. 2 15 0 110 =Howard's Rain Gauge=, has a 5-inch copper Funnel, with turned brass rim fitted to a stout stone-ware or glass bottle, with a graduated glass measure, divided to 100ths of an inch 0 10 6 =Symons' Portable Rain Gauge=, (5-inch) with graduated glass measure, japanned tin 0 10 6 Ditto ditto in stout copper 0 15 0 111 =Glaisher's Rain Gauge=, the receiving surface is 8-inches diameter, of stout japanned metal, with graduated glass measure, Fig. 84 1 1 0 Ditto ditto, of stout copper 1 10 0 Receiving Pots for ditto, extra 2s. and 3s. 6d. 113 =Rain Gauge=, having a receiving surface of 12 inches diameter, and graduated glass gauge tube, divided to hundredths of an inch, in japanned metal, with brass tap 2 10 0 Ditto ditto, Fig. 85, in copper 3 10 0 Ditto ditto, with sliding rod instead of graduated tube, japanned tin 2 2 0 =Rain Gauges=, of any form or area made to order, with suitable measuring glasses. 123 =Lind's Anemometer=, Fig. 86 2 2 0 125 =Robinson's Anemometer=, Fig. 87 3 3 0 Ditto ditto, Improved arrangement £4 10s. 5 15 0 Ditto ditto, with clutch movement, Fig. 88 6 15 0 =Negretti and Zambra's Improved Air Meter=, of extreme sensitiveness, very portable 4 4 0 Large Air Meters made to order. 127 =Osler's Self-Registering Anemometer and Rain Gauge=, Fig. 89 £84 to 150 0 0 128 =Berkley's Anemometers= fitted up to order, _to suit the Observatory_. 131 =Gold Leaf Electrometer=, Fig. 90 1 1 0 133 =Peltier's Electrometer= 4 4 0 134 =Bohnenberger's Electroscope=, Fig. 91 8 8 0 135 =Thompson's Electrometer=, to order =Lightning Conductors= fitted up to order. 142 =Ozone Cage=, Fig. 92 0 18 0 Ditto ditto, copper 1 5 0 146 =Leslie's Differential Thermometer=, Fig. 93 £1 10s. 2 2 0 148 =Thermometer Stand (Glaisher's)= 3 3 0 149 =Thermometer Screen= for Sea use 3 3 0 150 =Anemoscope=, or Portable Vane, Fig. 94 2 5 0 151 =Evaporating Dish=, Fig. 95 1 2 6 157 =Sea Water Hydrometers=, Board of Trade Marine, Figs. 96 and 97 0 5 6 158 =Newman's Self-Registering Tide Gauge=, Fig. 158, fitted to the Building to order From 50 0 0 _Further Information as to Price, &c., will be found in_ NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA'S ENCYCLOPÆDIC CATALOGUE OF MATHEMATICAL, PHILOSOPHICAL, OPTICAL, PHOTOGRAPHIC, AND STANDARD METEOROLOGICAL INSTRUMENTS, _Containing very numerous Comparative Tables of Reference, and Illustrated by upwards of_ ELEVEN HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS. Royal 8vo. Cloth, Gilt Lettered--Price 5s. 6d. FOOTNOTES: [1] Second Number of "Meteorological Papers," issued by the Board of Trade. [2] With reference to these barometers, we have received the subjoined testimonial, with permission to use it as we please. "_Meteorologic Office, 12th June, 1863._ "MESSRS. NEGRETTI & ZAMBRA, "The barometers which you have lately supplied to Her Majesty's ships through this Office are much approved, being good for general service, afloat or on land. "(Signed) R. FITZROY." [3] _Vide_ C. Daubeny, F.R.S., "On Climate." [4] _Vide_ Report of the British Association, 1862. [5] See page 42 for the Tables. [6] The quotations in this section are from Tyndall's _Heat considered as a Mode of Motion_. [7] Dr. Daubeny, F.R.S., _On Climate_. [8] Leslie _On the Relations of Air, Heat, and Moisture_. [9] Tyndall's _Heat considered as a Mode of Motion_. [10] Vide _Horological Journal_, Vol. V. [11] _Hygrometrical Tables_, by J. Glaisher, Esq., F.R.S. [12] Vide _Report of the British Association_, 1862. It may be added, for the information of those who are about to commence observing, that Mr. Symons, of Camden Road Villas, London, is desirous of securing returns of rain-fall from as many stations as possible, in order to render more complete his annual reports to the British Association. [13] Luke Howard's _Climate of London_. [14] Vide _Third Number of Meteorological Papers_, issued by the Board of Trade. [15] _Elements of Physics_, by C. F. Peschel. [16] This description is modified from that in Report of the Jurors for Class XIII. International Exhibition, 1862. [17] _All the Year Round_, No. 224. [18] _All the Year Round_, No. 224. [19] Vide _Jurors' Reports_. [20] See also page 90 of this Treatise. [21] These Instruments are the only Maximum Thermometers that can be recommended, as unless they be broken, they cannot be put out of adjustment. Fully described under the head of Standard Maximum Thermometers in our large Catalogue, and page 72 of our _Treatise on Meteorological Instruments_.