If rays of every possible refrangibility are allowed to fall upon the lens, as is the case when the source of light is not shielded by any coloured glass, there will be formed an indefinite number of pairs of cones, the apices of which will lie along the straight line joining H and F. It is clear that all these cones cannot possibly intersect in a single plane, and consequently no position can be found where the edge of the projected image is perfectly free from colour, though at a certain distance from the lens, where the brightest constituents of the light—namely, the yellow and green—are approximately focussed, the coloured border is least conspicuous, and is of a purple tint, due to the mixture of the red and violet rays.

For these reasons a single glass lens cannot, except with homogeneous light, be made to give a perfectly distinct image of a luminous point, nor of an illuminated object, the surface of which may be regarded as an assemblage of points. Such a lens, therefore, is never employed when good definition is required. The confusion resulting from the unequal refrangibility of the differently coloured rays is said to be due to the chromatic aberration of the lens.

In connection with this matter, the history of physical optics contains an interesting little episode. It occurred to Sir Isaac Newton that although a single lens could never be free from chromatic aberration, yet it might be possible to arrange a so-called achromatic combination of lenses in such a manner as to overcome the defect and bring all the rays issuing from a point, whatever their refrangibility, to one focus. Experiments which he undertook for the purpose of testing the matter led him to form the conclusion that such a result could never be attained, the amount of colour dispersion in all substances being, as he stated, always exactly proportional to that of refraction. For this reason he confidently announced that it was useless to attempt the construction of a really good refracting telescope, and so great was the authority attaching to his name that for many years all efforts in that direction were abandoned.

Nevertheless from time to time certain philosophers ventured to surmise that Newton might perhaps have been mistaken, and the curious thing is that they all based their scepticism upon what they considered the self-evident fact of the achromatism of the eye. The system of lenses in the eye, they argued, being unquestionably achromatic, why should not an equally effective combination be constructed artificially?

At length, more than eighty years after Newton had made and published his fundamental experiments, it occurred to a working optician, John Dollond, that it might be worth while to repeat them, and upon doing so he at once found that Newton was wrong in his facts, the results as recorded by him being in direct opposition to the truth. With proper respect for the memory of a great man it is usual to speak of Newton’s observation as a “hasty” one, but if in these days a junior science student were to be guilty of a similar lapse, his conduct would not impossibly be stigmatised as grossly careless.

Having established Newton’s error, Dollond found little difficulty in constructing achromatic lenses of very satisfactory quality; telescopes of his manufacture long enjoyed the highest reputation, and the best optical instruments of the present day are the direct offspring of his invention.

Those who entertained the opinion that Newton’s conclusion was erroneous were therefore in the right, but it is remarkable that the reason upon which that opinion rested was altogether invalid, for, as I have said, the lenses of the eye are by no means achromatic. Of the many ways in which this can be demonstrated, the following is one of the most impressive.

Let a long and narrow spectrum of the electric light be projected upon a white screen, the prisms and lenses being carefully arranged in such a manner as to ensure that the upper and lower edges of the spectrum are clearly defined and strictly parallel. To an observer standing close to the screen, the spectrum will present the appearance of a bright parti-coloured rectangle. But viewed from a distance of a few feet the spectrum will not seem to be rectangular, its upper and lower edges no longer appearing to be parallel, but to diverge, fan-like, towards the blue and violet, as shown in [Fig. 13]. This is because the violet and some of the blue rays proceeding from an object at a little distance cannot by any effort be focussed upon the retina. They are too much refracted, and the mechanism by which the eye is adjusted is incompetent to diminish the convexity of the lenses sufficiently to enable them to project a clear image. Every point is expanded into a luminous circle, which is the larger the more refrangible the rays, and it is the extension of these diffusion circles beyond the proper boundaries of the image that gives the appearance of increased breadth.

It is a simple matter to counteract the effects of undue convexity by means of a concave lens. If a normal-eyed person, to whom the violet end of the spectrum when seen from a distance appears blurred and widened, will look at it through suitable glasses adapted for short sight, he will at once see it clearly defined and of its proper width.