A FEW WORDS ABOUT LORD KELVIN

THI

HIS sketch is not intended to be a biographical notice and is written only with the object of calling attention

to one or two aspects of the personality of Lord Kelvin which are of peculiar interest to us here in Ireland. He lived so many years in Scotland that some may have overlooked the fact that he is an Irishman, and he is so great a scientist that others may have taken it more or less for granted that he is an atheist. Yet he has borne testimony both to his Irish descent and to his belief in God; and in these days, when so many second-rate teachers of science take it on themselves to question the fundamental truths of religion, it must be an encouragement to all believers to be reminded of the words in which this "prince of scientists" confessed the faith that was in him.

William Thomson was born in Belfast in 1824, the son of James Thomson, Professor of Mathematics in the Belfast Academical Institution, and afterwards in the University of Glasgow. He went to the University of Cambridge, where he took out his degrees with much distinction. When but twentytwo years of age he was appointed to the chair of Natural Philosophy in the University of Glasgow, a post he was destined to fill for the long term of fifty-three years-till 1899. During this long career the future Lord Kelvin enriched science by numerous discoveries and inventions in every branch of physics, but more especially in the domains of electricity and navigation. He is best known for his brilliant achievements in connection with submarine telegraphy, and it was owing to his researches that it became possible to establish successfully telegraphic communication between Europe and America. In connection with these services he was honoured with the title of "Sir William Thomson -a name which speedily became the foremost in scientific annals both at home and abroad. He received every mark of public recognition which it was in the power of learned bodies to bestow, and these marks of esteem culminated in the celebration of the golden jubilee of his occupation of the chair of Natural Philosophy in the Glasgow University.

The universal praise and congratulation lavished on him on that occasion reminds one of the crowning of Petrarch in Rome as first poet Laureate. The fête was an international expression of homage to the greatest scientist of the day. A graceful compliment was paid him by sending a congratulatory message from the hall in which the celebrations were taking place, which literally "put a girdle round the earth," though in less than "forty minutes." 4

In 1899, he was raised to the peerage, and took the title of Lord Kelvin from the river that flows near the University, the name of which was so long and intimately connected with his labours. Such a man is Lord Kelvin, and it is not strange that we are anxious to claim him as a countryman, especially as he himself has publicly asserted his nationality. These are his words addressed to a Birmingham audience in the course of a lecture on "The Six Gateways of Knowledge: "—

"The only census of the senses, so far as I am aware, that ever made them more than five was the Irishman's reckoning of seven senses. I presume the Irishman's seventh sense was common sense; and I believe that the possession of that virtue by my countrymen-I speak as an Irishman-I say, the large possession of that seventh sense which I believe Irishmen have, and the exercise of it, will do more to alleviate the woes of Ireland than even the removal of the 'melancholy ocean' which surrounds its shores."

Lord Kelvin may be said to have crowned his career by his clear and unhesitating declaration of belief in a Creator who rules all things, and of the impossibility of science alone, being ever able to explain the facts of nature. Surely, if any man was competent to make a statement on this matter, it is Lord Kelvin, whose insight into the secrets of science is so deep, and whose writings and investigations have extended over so large and varied a field of inquiry. And yet the outcome of his career of four score years is that science demands a God. These are his words, which were published with special prominence in the Nineteenth Century, by the special request of the editor. They were spoken at the conclusion of a lecture which had been given by another Professor in University College, London :

'I am in thorough sympathy with Professor Henslow in the fundamentals of his lecture; but I cannot admit that, with regard to the origin of life, science neither affirms nor denies creative power. It is not in dead matter that we live and move and have our being, but in the creating and directing power which science compels us to accept as an article of our belief. We cannot escape from that conclusion when we study the physics and dynamics of living and dead matter all round. Modern biologists are coming, I believe, once more to a firm acceptance of something beyond mere gravitational, chemical, and physical forces; and that unknown thing is a vital principle. We have an unknown object put before us in science. In thinking of that object we are all agnostics. We only know God in His works, but we are absolutely forced by science to believe with perfect confidence in a directive power-or an influence other than physical, or dynamical, or electrical forces.

"Cicero (by some, supposed to have been the editor of Lucretius) denied that men and plants and animals could come into being by a fortuitous concursus of atoms. There is nothing between absolute scientific belief in a Creative Power, and the theory of a fortuitous concursus of atoms. Just think of a number of atoms falling together of their own accord and making a crystal, a sprig of moss, a microbe, a living animal. Cicero's expression, 'fortuitous concourse of atoms,' is certainly not wholly inappropriate for the growth of a crystal. But modern scientific men are in agreement with him in condemning it as utterly absurd in respect to the coming into existence, or the growth, or the continuation of the molecular combinations presented in the bodies of living things. Here scientific thought is compelled to accept the idea of Creative Power. Forty years ago I asked Liebig, walking somewhere in the country, if he believed that the grass and the flowers that we saw around us grew by mere chemical forces. He answered, 'No, no more than I could believe that a book of botany describing them would grow by mere chemical forces.' Every action of the free will is a miracle to physical and chemical and mathematical science.

"I admire the healthy, breezy atmosphere of free thought throughout Professor Henslow's lecture. Do not be afraid of being free thinkers.' If you think strongly enough you

will be forced by science to believe in God, which is [the foundation of all religion. You will find science not antagonistic but helpful to religion."

Such is the opinion of Lord Kelvin, and it ought to be pondered over by those who are tempted to take seriously the gratuitous assertions of lesser men which have no foundation to rest on but the deceptive glitter of long words which, even to true scientists, have no meaning.

It is consoling to think that Lord Kelvin does not stand alone in his confession of faith, and a long list of quotations from the greatest amongst scientists could be added to that here given. It will be enough to mention the name of Newton, whose words I will cite as the conclusion of this sketch. They are from his Principia, one of the greatest works ever penned :—

"This most beautiful system of sun, stars, and comets could nowise come into existence without the design and ownership of a Being at once intelligent and powerful This Being governs all things, not as if He were the soul of the world, but as the Lord of everything, and on account of this His dominion He is styled 'the Lord God IIavтокpáтws (universal ruler).' Him we know only by His properties and His attributes, and by the most excellent and wise structure of things, and their final causes, and we admire Him for His perfections: we venerate Him and we worship Him for His Lordship.”

TRUTHFUL TOMMY.

"TOMMY dear," (in accents mild),
"Always speak the truth, my child.
Never, e'en for countless gold,

Should the smallest lie be told.

H. V. G.

"Now (look up, my darling, see,
Fix those wandering eyes on me,
Place in mine that little hand)
Prove how well you understand.

"If, for instance, by mistake,
Vase or cup you were to break,
And you thought that I should scold,
When the sad mishap was told;

If I asked you, and you knew
That I did not guess 'twas you
Who had done it in your play,
What, my treasure, would you say?"

Tommy thought a little space,
Then a smile o'erspread his face;
Came the answer blithe and pat-

'I should say it was the cat!"

Crushed and broken on the ground
Was the fairest lily found;
Grieved did maiden aunt descry
Tommy gravely standing by.

"Come, my child," she gently cried,

Stepping swiftly to his side;

Bending o'er him: "tell me true,

See the lily-was it you?"

"No, it wasn't," he replied,

Eyes of azure opening wide;
Mouth's soft corners drooping low

Into curve of direst woe.

Said the anxious lady: "Nay,
Did you do it? Only say.

None shall scold you, have no fear,
But the more I'll love you, dear."