Makers of Electricity. James J. Walsh
truth even more. He tells us that he experimented with seventy diamonds in presence of many witnesses, employing a number of iron bars and pieces of wire, manipulating them with the greatest care while they floated on corks; and concludes his long and exhaustive research by plaintively saying: "Yet never was it granted me to see the effect mentioned by Porta."
Though it led to a negative result, this probing inquiry was a masterpiece of experimental work.
Gilbert incidentally regrets that the men of his time "are deplorably ignorant with respect to natural things," and the only way he sees to remedy this is to make them "quit the sort of learning that comes only from books and that rests only on vain arguments and conjectures," for he shrewdly remarks that "even men of acute intelligence without actual knowledge of facts and in the absence of experiment easily fall into error."
Acting on this intimate conviction, he labored for twenty years over the theories and experiments which he sets forth in his great work on the magnet. "There is naught in these books," he tells us, "that has not been investigated, and again and again done and repeated under our eyes." He begs any one that should feel disposed to challenge his results to repeat the experiments for himself "carefully, skilfully and deftly, but not heedlessly and bunglingly."
It has been said that we are indebted to Sir Francis Bacon, Queen Elizabeth's Chancellor, for the inductive method of studying the phenomena of nature. Bacon's merit lies in the fact that he not only minutely analyzed the method, pointing out its uses and abuses, but also that he showed it to be the only one by which we can attain an accurate knowledge of the physical world around us. His sententious eulogy went forth to the world of scholars invested with all the importance, authority and dignity which the high position and worldwide fame of the philosophic Chancellor could give it. But while Bacon thought and wrote in his study, Gilbert labored and toiled in his workshop. By his pen, Bacon made a profound impression on the philosophic mind of his age; by his researches, Gilbert explored two provinces of nature and added them to the domain of science. Bacon was a theorist, Gilbert an investigator. For twenty years he shunned the glare of society and the throbbing excitement of public life; he wrenched himself away from all but the strictest exigencies of his profession, in order to devote himself undistractedly to the pursuit of science. And all this forty years before the appearance of Bacon's Novum Organum, the very work which contains the philosopher's "large thoughts and lofty phrases" on the value of experiment as a means for the advancement of learning. During that long period Gilbert haunted Colchester, where he delved into the secrets of nature and prepared the materials for his great work on the magnet. The publication of this Latin treatise made him known in the universities at home and especially abroad: he was appreciated by all the great physicists and mathematicians of his age; by such men as Sir Kenelm Digby; by William Barlowe, a great "magneticall" man; by Kepler, the astronomer, who adopted and defended his views; by Galileo himself, who said: "I extremely admire and envy the author of De Magnete."
The science of magnetism owes more to Gilbert than to any other man, Peregrinus (1269) excepted. He repeated for himself the numerous and ingenious experiments of the medieval philosopher, and added much of his own which he discovered during the long period of a life devoted to the diligent exploration of this domain in the world of natural knowledge.
The ancients spoke of the lodestone as the Magnesian stone, from its being found in abundance in the vicinity of Magnesia, a city of Asia Minor. In his Latin treatise of 254 (small) folio pages, Gilbert uses the adjective form of the term, but never the noun "Magnetismus" itself. Our English term magnetism appears for the first time on page 2 of Archdeacon Barlowe's "Magneticall Advertisements," published in 1616; while the surprising compound, "electro-magnetismos," is the title of a chapter in Father Kircher's "Magnes, sive de Arte Magnetica," printed in the year 1641.
Gilbert showed that a great number of bodies could be electrified; but maintained that those only could exhibit magnetic properties which contain iron. He satisfies himself of this by rubbing with a lodestone such substances as wood, gold, silver, copper, zinc, lead, glass, etc., and then floating them on corks, quaintly adding that they show "no poles, because the energy of the lodestone has no entrance into their interior."
To-day we know that nickel and cobalt behave like iron, whilst antimony, bismuth, copper, silver and gold are susceptible of being influenced by powerful electro-magnets, showing what has been termed diamagnetic phenomena. Even liquids and gases, in Faraday's classical experiments, yielded to the influence of his great magnet; and Professor Dewar, in the same Royal Institution, exposed some of his liquid air and liquid oxygen to the influence of Faraday's electromagnet and found them to be strongly attracted, thus behaving like the paramagnetic bodies, iron, nickel and cobalt.
Gilbert observes in all his magnets two points, one near each end, in which the force, or, as he terms it, "the supreme attractional power," is concentrated. Like Peregrinus, he calls these points the poles of the magnet, and the line joining them its magnetic axis. With the aid of his steel versorium, he recognizes that similar poles are mutually hostile, whilst opposite poles seize and hold each other in friendly embrace. He also satisfies himself that the energy of magnets resides not only in their extremities, but that it permeates "their inmost parts, being entire in the whole and entire in each part." This is exactly what Peregrinus said in 1269 and what we say to-day; it is nothing else than the molecular theory proposed by Weber, extended by Ewing and universally accepted.
At any rate, Gilbert is quite certain that whatever magnetism may be, it is not, like electricity, a material, ponderable substance. He ascertained this by weighing in the most accurate scales of a goldsmith a rod of iron before and after it had been rubbed with the lodestone, and then observing that the weight is precisely the same in both cases, being "neither less nor more."
Without referring to the prior discovery of Norman, whom he calls "a skilled navigator and ingenious artificer," Gilbert satisfies himself that not only the magnet, but all the space surrounding it, possesses magnetic properties; for the magnet "sends its force abroad in all directions, according to its energy and quality." This region of influence Norman called a sphere of "vertue," and Gilbert an "orbis virtutis," which is the Latin equivalent; we call it a "magnetic field," or field of force, which is less expressive and less appropriate. With wonderful intuition, Gilbert sees this space filled with lines of magnetic virtue passing out radially from his spherical lodestone, which lines he calls "rays of magnetic force."
Clerk Maxwell was so fascinated with this beautiful concept that he made it the work of his life to study the field of force due to electrified bodies, to magnets and to conductors conveying currents; his powerful intellect visualized those lines and gave them accurate mathematical expression in the great treatise on electricity and magnetism which he gave to the world in 1873.
Gilbert observes that the lodestone may be spherical or oblong; "whatever the shape, imperfect or irregular, verticity is present; there are poles," and the lodestones "have the selfsame way of turning to the poles of the world." He knows that a compass-needle is not drawn bodily towards the pole, and does not hesitate in this instance to give credit to his countryman, Robert Norman, for having clearly stated this fact and aptly demonstrated it. Following Norman, he floats a needle in a vessel by means of a piece of cork, and notices that on whatever part of the surface of the water it may be placed, the needle settles down after a few swings invariably in the same direction. His words are: "It revolves on its iron center and is not borne towards the rim of the vessel."
Gilbert knew nothing about the mechanical couple that came into play, but he knew the fact; and, with the instinct of the philosopher, tested it in a variety of ways.
We explain the orientation of the compass-needle by saying that it is acted upon by a pair of equal and opposite forces due to the influence of the terrestrial magnetic poles on each end of the needle and by showing that such a couple can produce rotation, but not translation.
We find Gilbert working not only with steel needles and iron bars, but also with rings of iron. He strokes them with a natural magnet and feels certain that he has magnetized them. He assures us that "one of the poles will be at the point rubbed and the other will be at the opposite side." To show that the ring is really magnetized, he cuts it across, opens it out, and finds that the ends exhibit polar properties.