Such effects as this suggest considerable capacity for doing work. Yet in reality, notwithstanding the very sporadical character of the result, the quantity of electricity involved in such a statical current may be very slight indeed. Even a lightning flash is held to represent a comparatively small amount of electricity. Faraday calculated that the amount of electricity that could be generated from a single drop of water, through chemical manipulation, would suffice to supply the lightning for a fair-sized thunder-storm. Nevertheless the destructive work that may be done by a flash of lightning may be considerable, as everyone is aware. But, on the other hand, while the visible effect of a stroke of lightning on a tree trunk, for example, makes it seem a powerful agency, yet the actual capacity to do work—the power to move considerable masses of matter—is extremely limited. The effect on a tree trunk, it will be recalled, usually consists of nothing more than the stripping off of a channel of bark. In other words, the working energy contained in a seemingly powerful supply of statical electricity commonly plays but an insignificant part.

The working agent, and therefore the form of electricity which concerns us in the present connection, is the dynamical current. This may be generated in various ways, but in practice these are chiefly reducible to two. One of these depends upon chemical action, the other upon the inter-relations of mechanical motion and magnetic lines of force. A common illustration of the former is supplied by the familiar voltaic or galvanic battery. The electromagnetic form has been rendered even more familiar in recent times by the dynamo. This newest and most powerful of workers will claim our attention in detail in the succeeding chapter. Our present consideration will be directed to the older method of generating the electric current as represented by the voltaic cell.

THE WORK OF THE DYNAMICAL CURRENT

Let us draw our illustration from a familiar source. Even should your household otherwise lack electrical appliances, you are sure to have an electric call-bell. The generator of the electric current, which is stored away in some out-of-the-way corner, is probably a small so-called "dry-cell" which you could readily carry around in your pocket; or it may consist of a receptacle holding a pint or two of liquid in which some metal plates are immersed. Such an apparatus seems scarcely more than a toy when we contrast it with the gigantic dynamos of the power-house; yet, within the limits of its capacities, one is as surely a generator of electricity as the other. If we are to accept the latest theory, the electrical current which flows from this tiny cell is precisely the same in kind as that which flows from the five-thousand-horse-power dynamo. The difference is only one of quantity.

To understand the operation of this common household appliance we must bear in mind two or three familiar experimental facts in reference to the action of the voltaic cell. Briefly, such a cell consists of two plates of metal—for example, one of copper and the other of zinc—with a connecting medium, which is usually a liquid, but which may be a piece of moistened cloth or blotting-paper. So long as the two plates of metal are not otherwise connected there is no electricity in evidence, but when the two are joined by any metal conductor, as, for example, a piece of wire—thus, in common parlance, "completing the circuit"—a current of electricity flows about this circuit, passing from the first metal plate to the second, through the liquid and back from the second plate to the first through the piece of wire. The wire may be of any length. In the case of your call-bell, for example, the wire circuit extends to your door, and is there broken, shutting off the current.

When you press the button you connect the broken ends of the wire, thus closing the circuit, as the saying is, and the re-established current, acting through a little electromagnet, rings the bell. In another case, the wire may be hundreds of miles in length, to serve the purposes of the telegrapher, who transmits his message by opening and closing the circuit, precisely as you operate your door-bell. For long-distance telegraphy, of course, large cells are required, and numbers of them are linked together to give a cumulative effect, making a strong current; but there is no new principle involved.

The simplest study of this interesting mechanism makes it clear that the cell is the apparatus primarily involved in generating the electric current; yet it is equally obvious that the connecting wire plays an important part, since, as we have seen, when the wire is broken there is no current in evidence. Now, according to the electron theory, as previously outlined, the electric current consists of an actual flow along the wire of carriers of electricity which are unable to make their way except where a course is provided for them by what is called a conductor. Dry air, for example, is, under ordinary circumstances, quite impervious to them. This means, then, that the electrons flow freely along the wire when it is continuous, but that they are powerless to proceed when the wire is cut. When you push the button of your call-bell, therefore, you are virtually closing the switch which enables the electrons to proceed on their interrupted journey.

THEORIES OF ELECTRICAL ACTION

But all this, of course, leaves quite untouched the question of the origin of the electrons themselves. That these go hurtling from one plate or pole of the battery to the other, along the wire, we can understand at least as a working theory; that, furthermore, the electrons have their origin either in the metal plates or in the liquid that connects them, seems equally obvious; but how shall we account for their development? It is here that the chemist with his atomic theory of matter comes to our aid. He assures us that all matter consists in the last analysis of excessively minute particles, and that these particles are perpetually in motion. They unite with one another to form so-called molecules, but they are perpetually breaking away from such unions, even though they re-establish them again. Such activities of the atoms take place even in solids, but they are greatly enhanced when any substance passes from the solid into the liquid state.