The mercurial gauge for measuring the pressure or tension of the vapour already mentioned remained attached to the apparatus. When one-tenth of an inch of the vapour of boracic ether was admitted into the exhausted tube, the barometer stood at 30 inches: hence the tension of the vapour within the tube was the 1/300th part of an atmosphere. Dynamically heated by dry air the radiation of the vapour produced a deflection of 56°. Again the tube was exhausted to 0·2 of an inch and the quantity of vapour was thereby reduced to 1/150th of its first amount; the needle was allowed to come to zero, and the residue of the vapour produced a deflection of 42°. The pump was again worked till a vacuum of 0·2 of an inch was obtained, this residue containing of course the 1/150th of the quantity of ether present in the tube; and on dynamically heating the residue, its radiation produced a deflection of 20°.
Thus it is evident that the tension of the ether in these experiments was continually diminished by the 0·2 of an inch, consequently its quantity was continually diminished by its 1/150th part, accompanied by a corresponding decrease in the deflections of the needle. The final result of this process showed that the radiation of an amount of vapour in the tube possessing a tension of less than the thousand millionth of an atmosphere is perfectly measurable. The temperature imparted to this infinitesimal quantity of matter did not exceed 0·75 of a centesimal degree. The molecules which constituted this intensely attenuated vapour, though inconceivable, had as true an existence as the suns which constitute the star-dust of the nebulæ. ‘A platinum wire raised to whiteness in a vacuum by an electric current, becomes comparatively cold in a second after the current has been interrupted; yet that wire, while ignited, was the repository of an immense amount of mechanical force. What has become of this? It has been conveyed away by a substance so attenuated that its very existence must for ever remain an hypothesis. But here is matter that we can weigh, measure, taste, and smell; that we can reduce to a tenuity which, though expressible by numbers, defeats the imagination to conceive of it. Still we see it competent to arrest and originate quantities of force which on comparison with its own mass are almost infinite, a small fraction of this force causing the double needle of the galvanometer to swing through considerable arcs. When we find ponderable matter producing these effects, we have less difficulty in investing the luminiferous ether with those mechanical properties which have long excited the interest and wonder of all who have reflected upon the circumstances involved in the undulatory theory of light.’