A great many of us were kept busy within vacuum tubes by other experimenters, but nothing very exciting happened. Indeed, we had lost all hope of attracting man's attention to ourselves as long as we were imprisoned within these tubes. In the meantime our hopes were revived by news which reached us from another quarter.
We heard that a very learned man had declared boldly that there did exist little particles which revolved around the atoms of matter, and that it was the motion of these tiny particles in the æther which produced the well-known waves of light. There was considerable rejoicing among us, for we were anxious to have our services recognised by man. This great man was not guessing merely; he was willing to prove by mathematical calculations that we did exist in reality. Of course, we ourselves required no proof of our existence, but we believed that man would be convinced. Our high hopes were soon laid low; news reached us that people were shaking their heads and saying that figures could be made to prove anything.
After we had settled down to our ordinary duties, we got word that at last man had really detected us in a flame of gas. This seemed quite reasonable, for, as I shall relate to you in another chapter, we have a very lively time of it in a flame of gas. However, when we were informed that man had discovered us by means of a sort of telescope arrangement, I, for one, began to doubt the truth of the discovery. Some time before this I had heard that men were spying at gas flames in the hope of finding us, and this seemed most ridiculous, for if man could not see the large congregations of us called atoms, how could he expect to see individual electrons? My ignorance was dispelled when it was explained that man had not been looking for us directly, but for the æther waves which we produce. But I have not had an opportunity of explaining to you how some of us produce waves in the æther; I shall have to wait till a later chapter. In the meantime I may say that since this important discovery I have taken some part in an experiment similar to the historic one wherein we were detected, but of that too I shall have more to say again.
The rejoicing at this discovery was not confined to us, for men of science were quick to grasp the importance which was attached to this new knowledge. We felt that man was bound to acknowledge our services from that day. The next event was our christening, and this was not all plain sailing. Indeed, we have been rather annoyed with one name which some good friends persist in giving us. I refer to the name corpuscle, which we feel to be a sort of nickname, although it may have been suggested in all kindness. It may be difficult for you to appreciate our dislike to this name, but it seems to us to savour too much of material things. It is not dignified; you must remember we are not matter. We are delighted with what we prefer to call our real name—electron—for that speaks of electricity. As you know, we are units of particles of negative electricity, and so this seems a most sensible and suitable name. But I must hasten to tell of some of our everyday duties in which we serve man.