The shell of the hedge-sparrow and the shell cast up by the sea have another quality in common besides their beauty. They have both been fabricated from the same material. Lime is of course the substance from which the bird, by some subtle art of physiology, forms those exquisite walls by which the vital part of the egg is protected. The soft organism that once dwelt in the cowrie was endowed with some power by which it extracted from the waters of the ocean the lime with which it gradually built an inimitable shell. Is it an exaggeration to say that this particular element calcium, this element so excessively abundant and so rarely seen, seems to enjoy some peculiar distinction by association with exquisite grace and beauty? The white marble wrought to an unparalleled loveliness by the genius of a Phidias or a Canova is but a form of lime. So is the ivory on which the Japanese artist works with such delicacy and refinement. Whether as coral in a Pacific island, as a pearl in a necklace or as a stone in the Parthenon, lime seems often privileged to form the material basis of beauty in nature and beauty in art.
Though lime in its different forms, in the rocks of the earth or the waters of the ocean, is one of the most ordinary substances met with on our globe, yet calcium, the essential element which goes to the composition of lime, is, as we have already said, not by any means a familiar body, and not many of us, I imagine, can ever have seen it. Chemistry teaches that lime is the result of a union in definite proportions between oxygen gas and the very shy metal, calcium. This metal is never found in nature unless in such intimate chemical union with some other element like oxygen or chlorine, that its characteristic features are altogether obscured, and would indeed never be suspected from the mere appearance of the results of the union. To see the metal calcium you must visit a chemical laboratory where, by electrical decomposition or other ingenious process, this elusive element can be induced to part temporarily from its union with the oxygen or other body for which it has so eager an affinity, and to which it returns with such alacrity. Though calcium is certainly a metal, it is very unlike the more familiar metals such as gold or silver, copper or iron. A coin might conceivably be formed out of calcium, but it would have no stability like the coins of the well-known metals. Calcium has such an unconquerable desire to unite with oxygen that the unstable metal will speedily grasp from the surrounding air the vital element. Unless special precautions are taken to withhold from the calcium the air, or other source from whence it could obtain oxygen, the union will most certainly take place, and the calcium will resume the stable form of lime. Thus it happens that though this earth contains incalculable billions of tons of calcium in its various combinations, yet calcium itself is almost unknown except to the chemist.
It is plain that calcium plays a part of tremendous significance on this earth. I do not say that it is the most important of all the elements. It would indeed seem impossible to assign that distinction to any particular element. Many are, of course, of vital importance, though there are, no doubt, certain of the rarer elements with which this earth could perhaps dispense without being to any appreciable extent different from what it is at present. I do not know that we should be specially inconvenienced or feel any appreciable want unsatisfied, if, let us say, the element lanthanum were to be struck out of existence; and there are perhaps certain other rare bodies among the known eighty elements, about which the same remark might be made.
Fig. 42.—The H. and K. Lines in the Photographic Solar
Spectrum (Higgs).
But without calcium there would neither be fertile soil for plants nor bones for animals, and consequently a world, inhabited in the same manner as our present globe, would be clearly impossible. There may be lowly organisms on this earth to which calcium is of no appreciable consequence, and it is of course conceivable that a world of living types could be constructed without the aid of that particular element which is to us so indispensable. But a world without calcium would be radically different from that world which we know, so that we are disposed to feel special interest in the important modern discovery that this same element, calcium, is abundantly distributed throughout the universe. The boldest and most striking features in the photograph of the solar spectrum are those due to calcium (Figs. 42 and 44).
In the solar spectrum are two very broad, very dark, and very conspicuous lines, known as H and K. In every photograph of that portion of the solar spectrum which, lying beyond the extreme violet, is invisible to our eyes, though intensely active on the photographic plate, these lines stand forth so boldly as to arrest the attention more than any other features of the spectrum. It had been known that these lines were due to calcium, but there were certain difficulties connected with their interpretation. Some recent beautiful researches by Sir William and Lady Huggins have cleared away all doubt. It is now certain that the presence of these lines in the spectrum demonstrates that that remarkable element which is the essential feature of lime on this earth is also found in the sun. We have also to note that these same lines have been detected in the photographic spectra of many other bodies in widely different regions of space. Thus we establish the interesting result that this particular element which plays a part so remarkable on our earth is not restricted to our globe, but is diffused far and wide throughout the universe.
Perhaps the most astonishing discovery made in modern times about the sun is connected with the wonderful element, helium. So long ago as 1868 Sir Norman Lockyer discovered, during an eclipse, that the light of the sun contained evidence of the presence in that orb of some element which was then totally unknown to chemists. This new body was not unnaturally named the sun-element, or helium. But more than a quarter of a century had to elapse before any chemist could enjoy the opportunity of experimenting directly upon helium. No labour could prepare the smallest particle of this substance, no money could purchase it, for at that time no specimen of the element was known to exist nearer than the sun, ninety-three million miles distant. But in 1895 an astonishing discovery was made by Professor Ramsay. He was examining a rare piece of mineral from Norway. From this mineral, clevite, the Professor extracted a little gas which was to him and to all other chemists quite unknown. But on applying the spectroscope to examine the character of the light which this gas emitted when submitted to the electric current, it yielded, to their amazement, the characteristic light of helium. Thus was the sun-element at last shown to be a terrestrial body, though no doubt a rare one. The circumstances that I have mentioned make helium for ever famous among the constituents of the universe. It will never be forgotten that though from henceforth it may be regarded as a terrestrial body, yet it was first discovered, not in the earth beneath our feet, but in the far-distant sun.
In a previous picture (Fig. [14]) we showed a photograph of a part of the sun’s surface; this striking view displays those glowing clouds from which the sun dispenses its light and heat. These clouds form a comparatively thin stratum around the sun, the interior of which is very much darker. The layer of clouds is so thin that it may perhaps be likened to the delicate skin of a peach in comparison with the luscious interior. It is in these dazzling white clouds that we find the source of the sun’s brightness. Were those clouds removed, though the sun’s diameter would not be appreciably reduced, yet its unparalleled lustre would be at once lessened. We use the expression “clouds” in speaking of these objects, for clouds they certainly are, in the sense of being aggregates of innumerable myriads of minute beads of some substance; but those solar clouds are very unlike the clouds of our own sky, in so far as the material of which they are made is concerned. The solar clouds are not little beads of water; they are little beads of white-hot material so dazzlingly bright as to radiate forth the characteristic brilliance and splendour of the sun. The solar clouds drift to and fro; they are occasionally the sport of terrific hurricanes; they are sometimes driven away from limited areas, and in their absence we see merely the black interior of the solar globe, which we call a sun-spot. Now comes the important question as to the material present in these clouds which confers on the sun its ability to radiate forth such abundant light and heat.
The profound truth already stated, that the solar elements are the same as the terrestrial elements, greatly simplifies the search for that particular element which forms those solar clouds. As the sun is made of substances already known to us by terrestrial chemistry, and as there are no chemical compounds to embarrass us, the choice of the possible constituents of those solar clouds becomes narrowed to the list of elements experimented on in our laboratories.