Floors and Pillars.
One decided step in Architecture is the invention of the Pillar, and its capabilities of aiding to sustain another floor above it. We see this principle carried out in our great cathedrals, where the use of the Pillar is almost infinite. Take, for example, Canterbury Cathedral. A heedless visitor might easily pass through the nave, enter the choir, visit the various side-chapels, and “Becket’s Crown,” without thinking that under his feet is a vast chamber, and that the floor on which he stands is, in fact, the roof of a great crypt.
The weight of the Cathedral, with its lofty towers, is so tremendous, that the building could not be erected simply upon the ground, but rests upon a complicated substratum of pillars and arches, whereby the weight is spread over a large surface. In fact, the Cathedral is really two buildings, the one erected upon the other.
In Nature there are many instances of pillars supporting different floors. One of the most beautiful examples is to be seen in the common Cuttle-bone, as it is called, this being the internal skeleton, if it may be so termed, of the common Sepia (Sepia officinalis), which is so often found on our coasts, especially after a gale. This year (1875) I found eight of these Cuttle-bones on the Margate sands, and all within a space of some twelve feet square.
This so-called bone is really composed of the purest chalk, for which reason it is in great request as a dentifrice, being easily scraped to almost impalpable powder when wanted, and not liable to be spilled, as is the case with any ordinary tooth-powder.
It is exceedingly light—so light, indeed, that it floats like a cork, even in fresh water. Now, as chalk is very much heavier than water, we may naturally ask ourselves how this lightness is obtained. If the upper surface be examined, it will be seen to be traversed by a vast number of wavy lines, something like the markings of “watered” silk. These show the lines of demarcation between the multitudinous rows of pillars of which the whole structure is formed.
If the “bone” be sharply snapped in the middle, and the particles of white dust blown away, a wonderful structure presents itself, which can be partially discerned by the naked eye, though a microscope is required to bring out its full beauties.
Even with an ordinary pocket lens we can make out some of its wonders. The object looks like a vast collection of basaltic columns, except that the pillars are white instead of black, and they are arranged in rows with the most perfect accuracy, just as if the place of each had been laid down with rule and compass. They are scarcely thicker than ordinary hairs, but they are beautifully perfect, and rise in tier after tier as if they were parts of a many-storied building. As a definite space exists between the pillars, the reader will understand why the whole structure should be so much lighter than water. In order, however, to see these wonderful pillars in perfection, a very thin section should be taken, and viewed with polarised light.
Another excellent example of Pillars and Flooring is to be found in the nests of various Wasps, including that of the Hornet.