Lectures on popular and scientific subjects

by 14th earl of James Sinclair Caithness

Let us now observe what a varied number of mechanical and agricultural appliances are required to furnish us with this cheap literature. There is agriculture, in the growth of the fibre that produces the material of which the printing paper is made; then the flax-mill is brought into play to produce the yarn to be woven; then weaving to produce the cloth; after this, dyeing. Then the fine material is used for various purposes too numerous to mention; and after it has performed its own proper work, and is cast away as rags, no more to be thought of by its owner, it is gathered up as a most precious substance by the papermaker, who shows us the true value of the cast-off rags. Subjected to the beautiful and costly machinery of the paper-mill, the rags turn out an article of so much value that without it the world would almost come to a stand-still. Yet further, we have next the miner, who by his labour brings to the surface of the earth the metal required to produce the type for printing; after this the printing-press; and next the chemist, who by certain chemical combinations gives us the ink that is to spread knowledge to the world, by making clear to the eye the thoughts of authors who have applied their minds for the instruction and amusement of their fellow-men. But we do not end here; consider also that each and all, the farmer, the spinner, the weaver, the chemist, the miner, the printer, and the author, must respectively have a profit out of their various branches of industry, and does it not strike one forcibly what a boon to the world is this all-important application of science to art—putting within the reach of the poor man and the working man the means of cultivating his mind, and so, by giving him matters of deep interest to think over, keeping him from idleness and perhaps sin (for idleness is the root of most evil), and making him a happy family-man instead of a public-house frequenter.

Many were strongly opposed to the introduction of steam, and would rather have seen it put down, and the old coach and printing-press, loom, spinning-wheel, and flail kept in use, fearing that machinery would limit employment; and a hard fight it has been to carry forward all that has hitherto been done. But what has proved to be the result? Thousands are now employed where formerly a few people sufficed, and we are all benefited in having better and cheaper goods, books, provisions, and all things needful. There is therefore the satisfaction of knowing that, by the thousand and one applications of steam, the physical, mental, and even moral condition of the people has been greatly ameliorated; in this way again proving a triumph for the application of science to art.

Glasgow is not only famous for its multifarious applications of water in its finely divided gaseous form of steam, but it has made admirable use of that element in its more familiar and fluid form, as shown in the gigantic undertaking of bringing a water-supply into this thriving and populous city. The peaceful waters of a Highland lake are suddenly turned from their quiet resting-place, where they have remained in peace for generations, the admiration of all beholders, and made to take an active part in contributing to the health, wealth, and comfort of Glasgow. The beautiful Loch Katrine has been brought into the city, furnishing a stream of pure water to minister to the wants of all classes of the people—an undertaking which a few years ago would have been pronounced impossible; but here again science and art have prevailed, and brought about this all-important object and greatly desired and inestimable boon. The great capital of England itself cannot boast of such an advantage, and must still be content to drink water contaminated with impurities. Does not this speak volumes for the wealth and energy of Glasgow? What so conducive to health and cleanliness (and cleanliness is akin to godliness) as a pure and perfect supply of water such as you now possess; and you have great reason to be grateful for this beneficent application of science and art. With a worldwide celebrity for your waterworks, you have cause also to be proud of your chemical works, and that famous chimney of St. Rollox, one of the loftiest structures in the world. There are few cities more highly favoured than this. Would not Captain Shaw be glad if, in London, he had the head or command of water such as you have from Loch Katrine to save the great metropolis from the destruction by fire that they are in daily dread of? In Glasgow we hardly want this—our grand Loch Katrine does it all.

Turn to your river, the beautiful Clyde, which eighty years ago could be forded at Erskine, while Port Glasgow was as far as ships could then come up—a striking contrast to what is now to be seen at the Broomielaw, where the largest steamers and ships drawing thirty feet of water are moored in the very heart of the city, discharging produce from all parts of the world. What has done this but steam—the energy of man; steam cutting a channel by dredging to admit of ships passing so far up the river: and this has been to Glasgow a great source of wealth by the promotion of commerce. Art has been permitted to work out great things for your city, and I trust still greater things are in store. Take the trade now in full progress on the banks of the Clyde. The shipbuilding is fast leaving the Thames and finding its way here. It is a pleasure to hear people say: "There is a fine ship—she is Clyde-built."—"Who built her? Was it Napier, or Thomson, or Tod, or M'Gregor, or Randolph & Elder, or Caird, or Denny of Dumbarton, or Cunliff & Dunlop?" Pardon me if I have left out any name, for all are good builders. Then, again, it may be asked: "Who engined these ships?"—"Oh, Clyde engineers, or those who built them." I had the pleasure of being this year on board the Trinity yacht "Galatea," on a cruise when fourteen knots an hour were accomplished; and that yacht is a good specimen of what Clyde shipbuilders can turn out. She was built by Caird. I have also had the pleasure of a trip in the "Russia," one of the finest screw-vessels afloat, built by Thomson; and she has proved herself perhaps the fastest of sea-going steamers. Does not all this show what science applied to art has done?

Glasgow has also a College of the first order, one that is looked up to as sending men of high standing forth to the world. Watt worked under its roof as a poor mathematical instrument maker, and although enjoying little of its valuable instruction, he produced the steam-engine—a lesson as to what those ought to do towards promoting the application of science to art who have the full benefit of a scientific training such as your College affords.

Each day brings forth something new—the electric telegraph, for instance, by which our thoughts and desires are transmitted to all parts of the world, so to speak, in a moment of time. When we think that we are within an instant of America, it gives one a feeling of awe, for it shows to what an extent we have been permitted to carry the application of science to art. A small wire is carried across the great Atlantic, and immediate communication is the result. The achievements of science were shown to a great extent in the laying of this cable, and perhaps still more in its recovery after it had been broken. A small cable is lost at the bottom of the ocean, far from the land, and in water about two miles in depth—a ship goes out, discovers the spot, and then grappling irons are lowered. Science with its long arm, as it were, reaches down the almost unfathomable abyss, and with its powerful hand secures and brings to the surface of the ocean the fractured cable, which is again made to connect the Old and New Worlds—thus verifying almost the words of Shakespeare, when he speaks of calling "spirits from the vasty deep." After splicing the cable, the vessel proceeds with the work of paying it out, as it sails across the Atlantic; and once more science and art find a successful issue, for Europe and America are united.

What the combination of science and art has done is, however, not yet exhausted: witness the splendid specimens of artillery now produced by Sir Joseph Whitworth and Sir William Armstrong—weapons by which projectiles are thrown with an almost irresistible force. The beauty of their construction is a triumph to art, and their mathematical truth a triumph to science. One thing follows another, and no sooner have men of originality and observation perfected the means of destruction, when others press forward and furnish the means of defence. Our armour-clads, such as the "Warrior" and others which lately visited these waters, have thus been called into existence, and they are splendid specimens of what science applied to art can achieve.

The Menai Bridge is another instance of the power of man in applied science. A railway bridge is required to further communication, but Government demands that the navigation of the Strait shall not be impeded. The mind of a great man is called into action, and by applying scientific principles to engineering art, we have that wonder of the world, the great tubular bridge over the Menai Straits. This work required a mind of no ordinary nature, but such a one was found in the celebrated Robert Stephenson. I am proud to say I was privileged to have him as a friend, and I greatly lamented his death, not only as a friend, but as an irreparable loss to the world of science.

Another instance of science applied to art—and not the least important—is the adaptation of glass to form the lens which enables the flame of a lamp to be seen from a great distance. What this has done for the mariner is shown in our lighthouses, which enable him to know where he is by night as well as by day, for the lights are made to revolve, to be stationary, or to show various colours or flashes, which reveal to him their respective positions. The compass also, though ancient, is still an application of applied science, and by it the mariner is enabled to guide his ship safely over the ocean. A very beautiful instance of applied science to art is electrometallurgy, in which metals are deposited by means of the galvanic battery in any required form or shape, and this process of gilding and plating is executed with marvellous rapidity. All these various instances show what the mind of man has done, and is doing; but the applications of science to art are so endless, that even their simple enumeration could not be included in the limits of an opening address, for there are few things to which science cannot be applied. One of the most recent and beautiful is the art of photography, where, by means of applied chemistry, aided by the rays of the sun, there can be produced the most pleasing and lifelike representations. This new application of chemistry is a most interesting one, which shows that we do not stand still, and as long as arts and science are permitted to be practised by us we are not intended to stand still, but to exercise our minds to the utmost to unravel those mysteries of nature that are yet to be developed.

Chemistry, as a regular branch of natural science, is of comparatively recent origin, and can hardly be said to date earlier than the latter third of last century. The Greek philosophers had some vague yet profound ideas on this subject, but their acquaintance was limited to speculations à priori, founded on general and often inaccurate observations of natural occurrences. Yet their acuteness was such, that some of their speculations as to the constituent properties of matter coincide in a wonderful degree with those which now prevail among modern philosophers. It is not easy to define what chemistry is in a few words, but it may be described as the science which has for its object the investigation of all elementary bodies which exist in the universe, with the view of determining their composition and properties. It also seeks to detect the laws which regulate their mutual relations, and the proportions in which these elements will combine together to form the compounds which constitute the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms, as well as the properties of these various compounds. The ancients admitted only four elements—earth, air, fire, and water. Chemists now far exceed this number, and seek to show what these elements are composed of by analysing them into the various gases, solids, and liquids.