own air was also and independently making the really blue sun into an apparently white one. We actually know, then, beyond conjecture, by a comparison of the sun's atmosphere, where it is thickest and where it is thinnest, that an apparently colorless atmosphere can have such an effect, and analogous observations which I have carried on for many years, but do not now detail, show that the atmosphere of our own planet, this seemingly clear air in which we exist like creatures at the bottom of the sea, does do so.
We look up through our own air as through something so limpid in its purity that it appears scarcely matter at all, and we are apt to forget the enormous mass of what seems of such lightness, but which really presses with nearly a ton to each square foot, so that the weight of all the buildings in this great city, for instance, is less than that of the air above them.
I hope to shortly describe the method of proof that it too has been acting like an optical sieve, holding back the blue; but it may naturally be asked, "Can our senses have so entirely deceived us that they give no hint of this truth, if it be one? is the appeal wholly to recondite scientific methods, and are there no indications, at least, which we may gather for ourselves?" I think there are, even to our unaided eyes, indications that the seemingly transparent air really acts as an orange medium, and keeps the blue light back in the upper sky.
If I hold this piece of glass before my eyes, it seems colorless and transparent, but it is proved not to be so by looking through it edgewise, when the light, by traversing a greater extent, brings out its true color, which is yellow. Every one knows this in every-day experience. We shall not get the color of the ocean by looking at it in a wine-glass, but by gazing through a great depth of it; and so it is with the air. If we look directly up, we look through where it is thinnest; but, if we look horizontally through it toward the horizon, through great thicknesses, as at sunrise or sunset, is it not true that this air, where we see its real color most plainly, makes the sun look very plainly yellow or orange?
We not only see here, in humid English skies, the "orange sunset waning slow," but most of us in these days of travel can perfectly testify that the clearest heavens the earth affords, the rosy tint on the snows of Mont Blanc, forerunning the dawn, or the warm glow of the sun as he sets in Egyptian skies, show this most clearly—show that the atmosphere holds back the blue rays by preference, and lets the orange through.
If, next, we ask, "What has become of the blue that it has stopped?" does not that very blue of the midday sky relate the rest of the story—that blue which Professor Tyndall has told us is due to the presence of innumerable fine particles in the air, which act selectively on the solar waves, diffusing the blue light toward us? I hope it will be understood that Professor Tyndall is in no way responsible for my own
