Much of the very recent work in physical science has distinct leanings towards metaphysics. It is scarcely to be wondered at, when the experimental data obtained appear to question tenets which devotees have become accustomed to regard as immutable. Facts are stubborn, however. When they cause the giving away of the least portion of the boundaries of our cherished systems, the imagination is unchained. The discovery and development of our knowledge of the wonderful phenomena of radio-activity, about which much that is true and more that is false have appeared in reputable journals of a not remote date, ensample the groping of our restlessness. These marvels, according to those who have worked with them most and whose opinions deserve the first consideration, spontaneously and continuously give out energy appreciable to the senses.
Where does this energy come from? Where does it go? One mudsill of science is the law of the conservation of energy. This division of science has a host of investigators busy with the problem of sustaining this fundamental. The harvest, which is not all grain but contains some tares, indicates that substances, which we have been pleased to regard as elemental constituents of nature, undergo voluntary alterations. Some appear to be breaking down into simpler matter, while others are building up. This virtually carries us back to the days of the alchemist.
It is a long story, which may not be related here, the deep-seated belief of most chemists in the unity, hence transmutation, of the elements. It is a far cry to its accomplishment, however. We need not go back to the time of the black-art for other examples of efforts to transform one element into another. Victor Meyer sought to build up thallium shortly after Crookes found it. Winkler dissipated Fittica’s transformation of phosphorus to arsenic. So chemists will be busy asking questions of Ramsay’s formation of a body like lead, through the agency of penetrating rays of radium.
Another foundation stone of science is the law of the conservation of matter. J. J. Thompson, from experimental work, explains certain observations by the existence of substances called electrons, a thousand times smaller than hydrogen, which we have regarded the lightest chemical element. The electrons appear to carry an electric charge. One farther step is then taken by the Cambridge professor, who says these corpuscles are electricity. They are attenuated matter. Electricity is a form of energy. We need no law for the conservation of the matter. Ostwald has taught that when one struck his shin on a chair in the dark, it was not the solid wood, but the force involved which produced the sensation. One would not have been conscious of the existence of the obstacle, but for the energy. Matter is energy.
Here one is on the boundary lines of experimental science and dealing with a metaphysical problem. It must not be forgotten, however, that two hundred years ago any suggestion of the Röntgen rays could well have been placed in a similar category.
Whether the explanations be accepted or not, it may be noted that Lodge has already illustrated, by beautiful lecture experiments, the possibility of a practical utilization of the facts of some of the observations. Fog is easily dissipated through the agency of electricity. The application of the principle on a gigantic scale, to a city like London, may yet be realized.
There are in the world, as is well known, numerous organisms belonging to the vegetable kingdom that do not resemble at all any of those things we are accustomed to look upon as plants. These bacteria are extremely small. They are from .00002 to .00004 inch in diameter. They are studied, not by ordinary vision, but by means of microscopes and by microscopes of only the very best kinds. They are, also, studied by their effects. They propagate very rapidly. Starting with one organism they may grow, within twenty-four hours, to 281,470,000,000 individuals. This rapidity of growth does not actually take place in nature; it is checked through natural conditions, or through excretions of the organism inhibiting such propagation.
We hear a great deal as to the production of virulent diseases through the agency of bacteria; but, while there are evil bacteria, there are, also, bacteria that are good. In short, we may understand, that all good bacteria are not dead bacteria. These bacteria exist in very large numbers in the soil. The upper portion of rich garden soil may contain, on an average, from one to five millions per cubic centimetre. This number may be very much greater, depending upon the amount of decomposed matter that is present and the favorable conditions for their propagation.
We are accustomed to think of bacteria as living only on the richest food and being the cause solely of putrefaction. This is not true. There are bacteria that live on the bare rocks and get their sustenance from those rocks and the surrounding air. Under these conditions they actually store up food material. They are really miracle workers. They render the soil fertile and the farmer is largely dependent upon them for the growth of his crops. They reduce mineral substance to the powdered form, assist in storing up organic matter for the soil and thus render it suitable for the growth of higher plants.
Under the influence of sunlight the green portions of plants, by absorbing carbon dioxide from the air and water from the soil, produce starch, which is one of the important foods for animals. This is not the work of bacteria, yet some of these organisms are capable of accomplishing similar work in the dark. It has been suggested that they derive their energy directly from the oxidizing processes that they set up. This is one of the problems of the soil bacteriologist.