“In these few examples we indicate roughly but sufficiently the intimate connexion of the physical sciences, and the necessity which is imposed on the student in the present day to know all if he would understand one. It has been said that he who has seen but one work of ancient art has seen none, while he who has seen all has seen but one. We may say the same of science. To know one is to know none, and to know all is to know but one.”
Sun-force.
Daily the conviction deepens among those who have studied the matter, that with a few exceptions all the physical powers which man wields as movers or transformers of matter are modifications of Sun-force. It was bestowed upon antediluvian plants, and they locked it up for a season in the woody tissue which it enabled them to weave, and afterwards time changed that into coal; and the steam-engine which we complacently call ours, and claim patents for, burns that coal into lever-force and steam-hammer power, and is in truth a sun-engine. And the plants of our own day receive as liberally from the sun, and condense his force into the charcoal which we extract from them, and expend in smelting metallic ores. With the smelted metals we make voltaic batteries, and magnets, and telegraph wires; and call the modified, sun-force electricity and magnetism, and say it is ours, and ask if we may not do what we like with our own.
And again, the plants we cultivate concentrate Sun-force in grass, hay, oats, wheat, and other fibres and grains, which seem only suitable to feed cattle and beasts of burden with. But by and by a Spanish bull-fighter is transfixed by this force, through the horns of a bull, and dies unaware of his classical fate, pierced to the heart by an arrow from Apollo the Sun-god’s bow. On English commons prizes are run for, by steeds which are truly coursers of the sun, for his force is swelling in their muscles and throbbing in their veins, and horse-power is but another name for sun-power. Nor is it otherwise with their riders; for they too have been fed upon light, and made strong with fruits and flesh which have been nourished by the sun. His heat warms their blood, his light shines in their eyes; they cannot deal a blow which is not a coup-de-soleil, a veritable sun-stroke; nor express a thought without help from him.
In grave earnestness, let me remind you, that as force cannot be annihilated any more than matter, but can only be changed in its mode of manifestation, so it appears beyond doubt that the force generated by the sun, and conveyed by his rays in the guise of heat, light, and chemical power, to the earth, is not extinguished there, but only changes its form. It apparently disappears when it falls upon plants, which never grow without it; but we cannot doubt that it is working in a new shape in their organs and tissues, and reappears in the heat and light which they give out when they are burned. This heat, which is sun-heat at second hand, we again seem to lose when we use plants as fuel in our boiler-furnaces; but it has only disguised itself, without loss of power, in the elasticity of the steam, and will again seem lost, when it is translated into the momentum of the heavy piston, and the whirling power of a million of wheels.
The second-hand heat of the sun appears equally lost when vegetable fuel is expended in reducing metals; but oxidize these metals in a galvanic battery, and it will reappear as chemical force, as electricity, as magnetism, as heat the most intense; and, in the electro-carbon light, will return almost to the condition of sunshine again.—Prof. George Wilson.
“The Seeds of Invention.”
Sir William Armstrong maintains, as a half-truth, that Invention is the fruit of the circumstances that call for it almost more than of the mind from which it springs. In a sense it is true, as Sir William Armstrong says, that “the seeds of invention exist, as it were, in the air, ready to germinate whenever suitable conditions arise;” but it depends not the less on the genius of individual inventors to determine whether the germination shall happen in one century or the next. The history of the locomotive is itself the strongest argument against relying too much on these floating seeds of invention and favouring circumstances, and taking too little account of inventors. If the Killingworth brakesman had died in his youth, it is scarcely too much to say that we should probably not yet be travelling by steam. We owe it to George Stephenson’s keen insight and resolute temper that the locomotive was forced upon an unbelieving world, no one can say how long before circumstances would otherwise have called it into existence. The seed had been floating, it is true, and had been in a manner detected centuries before; but it remained without life, not because the occasion had not called it forth, but because the right man had not arisen.
The Object of Patents.
The recklessness with which Patents are issued, and the dishonesty on the part of the State in selling the same article to two or more persons, and then coolly leaving them to litigation for the possession of it, cannot be too strongly reprehended. The common sense of the question is summed up by Dr. Percy, in these words: “I cordially subscribe,” says the Doctor, “to the opinions expressed by Mr. Grove, Q.C.—namely, that the real object of Patent Law was ‘to reward not trivial inventions, which stop the way to greater improvements, but substantial boons to the public; not changes such as any experimentalist makes a score a day in his laboratory, but substantial practical discoveries, developed into an available form.’”