The rapidity of these impulses, supposing the powers of the physical forces were for a moment suspended, would be sufficient to scatter the mass of our planet over space as a mere star-dust.
Limiting, as much as possible, the view which opens upon the mind as we contemplate the adjustments by which this great machine, our system, is preserved in all its order and beauty, let us forget the great movement of the whole through space, and endeavour to consider the effect of those motions which are directly related to the earth, as a member of one small group of worlds.
We cannot for a moment doubt, although we have not any experimental proof of the fact, that the proper motions of the earth materially influence the conditions of the matter of which it is formed. Every pair of atoms is, like a balance, delicately suspended, under the constant struggle which arises from the tendency to fly asunder, induced by one order of forces—centrifugal force—and the efforts of others, gravitation and cohesion, to chain them together. The spring is brought to the highest state of tension—one tremor more, and it would be destroyed.
We cannot, by any comparison with the labours of the most skilful human artisan, convey an idea of the exquisite perfection of planetary mechanics, even so far as they have been discovered by the labours of science; and we must admit that our insight into the vast machinery has been very limited.
All we know is the fact that this planet moves in a certain order, and at a fixed rate, and that the speed is of itself sufficient to rend the hardest rocks; yet the delicate down which rests so lightly upon the flower is undisturbed. It is, therefore, evident that matter is endued with powers, by which mass is bound to mass, and atom to atom; these powers are not the results of any of the motions which we have examined, but, acting in antagonism to them, they sustain our globe in its present form.
Are there other motions to which these powers can be referred? We know of none. That absolute rest may not exist among the particles of matter is probable. Electrical action, chemical power, crystalline aggregation, the expansive force of heat, and many other known agencies, are in constant operation to prevent it. It must, however, be remembered, that each and every atom constituting a mass may be so suspended between the balanced forces, that it may be regarded as relatively at rest.
Theory imagines Motion as producing Force—a body is moved, and its mere mechanical change of place is regarded as generating heat; and hence the refinements of modern science have advanced to the conclusion that motion and heat are convertible. Admitting that the material atoms of which this world is formed are never in a state of quiescence, yet we cannot suppose any gross ponderable particle as capable of moving itself; but once set in motion, it may become the secondary cause of motion in other particles.[10] The difficulties of the case would appear to have been as follows:—Are heat, light, electricity, &c., material bodies? If they are material bodies—and heat, for example, is the cause of motion—must not the calorific matter move itself—or if it be not self-moving, by what is it moved? If heat is material, and the primary cause of motion, then matter must have an innate power of moving; it can convert itself into active force, or be at once a cause and an effect, which can scarcely be regarded as a logical deduction.
We move a particle of matter, and heat is manifested; the force being continued, light, electricity, and chemical action result; all, as appears from a limited view of the phenomena, arising out of the mechanical force applied to the particle first moved.[11] This mechanical force, it must be remembered, is external to the body moved, and is, in all probability, set up by the movement of a muscle, acted upon by nerves, under the influence of a will.
The series of phenomena we have supposed to arise admit of an explanation free of the hypothesis of motion, and we avoid the dangerous ground of metaphysical speculation, and the subtleties of that logic which rests upon the immateriality of all creation. This explanation, it is freely admitted, is incomplete: we cannot distinctly correlate each feature of the phenomena, combine link to link, and thus form a perfect chain; but it is sufficiently clear to exhibit what we do know, and leave the unknown free for unbiassed investigation.
Each particle, each atom of that which conveys to our senses the only ideas we have of natural objects—ponderable matter—is involved in, or interpenetrated by, those principles which we call heat and electricity, with probably many others which are unknown to us; and although these principles or powers are, according to some law, bound in statical equilibrium to inert matter, they are freely developed by an external excitement, and the disturbance of any one of them, upsetting the equilibrium, leaves the other power equally free to be brought under the cognizance of human sense by their effects.