The Forms of Water in Clouds and Rivers, Ice and Glaciers (§§ 9–11, 32, 67) The Forms of Water: Snow-Stars, Ice-Flowers and a Winter on the Mer de Glace John Tyndall (1820–1893) 1872 Cold Library · Open Stacks · S-006201 · https://coldlibrary.com/s/006201 Rights: Published in 1872; John Tyndall died in 1893. Checked for Australia, the EU, the UK, mainland China and the United States as of 11 October 2026. Guidance, not legal advice. Source: Project Gutenberg, https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/63803/pg63803.txt (retrieved 2026-10-11) Generated 2026-10-14 from https://coldlibrary.com/en/open-stacks/tyndall-forms-of-water-snow-and-ice ---- § 9. Architecture of Snow 85. We now resemble persons who have climbed a difficult peak, and thereby earned the enjoyment of a wide prospect. Having made ourselves masters of the conditions necessary to the production of mountain snow, we are able to take a comprehensive and intelligent view of the phenomena of glaciers. 86. A few words are still necessary as to the formation of snow. The molecules and atoms of all substances, when allowed free play, build themselves into definite and, for the most part, beautiful forms called crystals. Iron, copper, gold, silver, lead, sulphur, when melted and permitted to cool gradually, all show this crystallizing power. The metal bismuth shows it in a particularly striking manner, and when properly fused and solidified, self-built crystals of great size and beauty are formed of this metal. 87. If you dissolve saltpetre in water, and allow the solution to evaporate slowly, you may obtain large crystals, for no portion of the salt is converted into vapour. The water of our atmosphere is fresh though it is derived from the salt sea. Sugar dissolved in water, and permitted to evaporate, yields crystals of sugar-candy. Alum readily crystallizes in the same way. Flints dissolved, as they sometimes are in nature, and permitted to crystallize, yield the prisms and pyramids of rock crystal. Chalk dissolved and crystallized yields Iceland spar. The diamond is crystallized carbon. All our precious stones, the ruby, sapphire, beryl, topaz, emerald, are all examples of this crystallizing power. 88. You have heard of the force of gravitation, and you know that it consists of an attraction of every particle of matter for every other particle. You know that planets and moons are held in their orbits by this attraction. But gravitation is a very simple affair compared to the force, or rather forces, of crystallization. For here the ultimate particles of matter, inconceivably small as they are, show themselves possessed of attractive and repellent poles, by the mutual action of which the shape and structure of the crystal are determined. In the solid condition the attracting poles are rigidly locked together; but if sufficient heat be applied the bond of union is dissolved, and in the state of fusion the poles are pushed so far asunder as to be practically out of each other's range. The natural tendency of the molecules to build themselves together is thus neutralized. 89. This is the case with water, which as a liquid is to all appearance formless. When sufficiently cooled the molecules are brought within the play of the crystallizing force, and they then arrange themselves in forms of indescribable beauty. When snow is produced in calm air, the icy particles build themselves into beautiful stellar shapes, each star possessing six rays. There is no deviation from this type, though in other respects the appearances of the snow-stars are infinitely various. In the polar regions these exquisite forms were observed by Dr. Scoresby, who gave numerous drawings of them. I have observed them in mid-winter filling the air, and loading the slopes of the Alps. But in England they are also to be seen, and no words of mine could convey so vivid an impression of their beauty as the annexed drawings of a few of them, executed at Greenwich by Mr. Glaisher. 90. It is worth pausing to think what wonderful work is going on in the atmosphere during the formation and descent of every snow-shower: what building power is brought into play! and how imperfect seem the productions of human minds and hands when compared with those formed by the blind forces of nature! 91. But who ventures to call the forces of nature blind? In reality, when we speak thus we are describing our own condition. The blindness is ours; and what we really ought to say, and to confess, is that our powers are absolutely unable to comprehend either the origin or the end of the operations of nature. 92. But while we thus acknowledge our limits, there is also reason for wonder at the extent to which science has mastered the system of nature. From age to age, and from generation to generation, fact has been added to fact, and law to law, the true method and order of the Universe being thereby more and more revealed. In doing this science has encountered and overthrown various forms of superstition and deceit, of credulity and imposture. But the world continually produces weak persons and wicked persons; and as long as they continue to exist side by side, as they do in this our day, very debasing beliefs will also continue to infest the world. § 10. Atomic Poles 93. "What did I mean when, a few moments ago (88), I spoke of attracting and repellent poles?" Let me try to answer this question. You know that astronomers and geographers speak of the earth's poles, and you have also heard of magnetic poles, the poles of a magnet being the points at which the attraction and repulsion of the magnet are as it were concentrated. 94. Every magnet possesses two such poles; and if iron filings be scattered over a magnet, each particle becomes also endowed with two poles. Suppose such particles devoid of weight and floating in our atmosphere, what must occur when they come near each other? Manifestly the repellent poles will retreat from each other, while the attractive poles will approach and finally lock themselves together. And supposing the particles, instead of a single pair, to possess several pairs of poles arranged at definite points over their surfaces; you can then picture them, in obedience to their mutual attractions and repulsions, building themselves together to form masses of definite shape and structure. 95. Imagine the molecules of water in calm cold air to be gifted with poles of this description, which compel the particles to lay themselves together in a definite order, and you have before your mind's eye the unseen architecture which finally produces the visible and beautiful crystals of the snow. Thus our first notions and conceptions of poles are obtained from the sight of our eyes in looking at the effects of magnetism; and we then transfer these notions and conceptions to particles which no eye has ever seen. The power by which we thus picture to ourselves effects beyond the range of the senses is what philosophers call the Imagination, and in the effort of the mind to seize upon the unseen architecture of crystals, we have an example of the "scientific use" of this faculty. Without imagination we might have *critical* power, but not *creative* power in science. § 11. Architecture of Lake Ice 96. We have thus made ourselves acquainted with the beautiful snow-flowers self-constructed by the molecules of water in calm cold air. Do the molecules show this architectural power when ordinary water is frozen? What, for example, is the structure of the ice over which we skate in winter? Quite as wonderful as the flowers of the snow. The observation is rare, if not new, but I have seen in water slowly freezing six-rayed ice-stars formed, and floating free on the surface. A six-rayed star, moreover, is typical of the construction of all our lake ice. It is built up of such forms wonderfully interlaced. 97. Take a slab of lake ice and place it in the path of a concentrated sunbeam. Watch the track of the beam through the ice. Part of the beam is stopped, part of it goes through; the former produces internal liquefaction, the latter has no effect whatever upon the ice. But the liquefaction is not uniformly diffused. From separate spots of the ice little shining points are seen to sparkle forth. Every one of those points is surrounded by a beautiful liquid flower with six petals. 98. Ice and water are so optically alike that unless the light fall properly upon these flowers you cannot see them. But what is the central spot? A vacuum. Ice swims on water because, bulk for bulk, it is lighter than water; so that when ice is melted it shrinks in size. Can the liquid flowers then occupy the whole space of the ice melted? Plainly no. A little empty space is formed with the flowers, and this space, or rather its surface, shines in the sun with the lustre of burnished silver. 99. In all cases the flowers are formed parallel to the surface of freezing. They are formed when the sun shines upon the ice of every lake; sometimes in myriads, and so small as to require a magnifying glass to see them. They are always attainable, but their beauty is often marred by internal defects of the ice. Even one portion of the same piece of ice may show them exquisitely, while a second portion shows them imperfectly. 100. Annexed is a very imperfect sketch of these beautiful figures. 101. Here we have a reversal of the process of crystallization. The searching solar beam is delicate enough to take the molecules down without deranging the order of their architecture. Try the experiment for yourself with a pocket-lens on a sunny day. You will not find the flowers confused; they all lie parallel to the surface of freezing. In this exquisite way every bit of the ice over which our skaters glide in winter is put together. 102. I said in (97) that a portion of the sunbeam was stopped by the ice and liquefied it. What is this portion? The dark heat of the sun. The great body of the light waves and even a portion of the dark ones, pass through the ice without losing any of their heating power. When properly concentrated on combustible bodies, even after having passed through the ice, their burning power becomes manifest. 103. And the ice itself may be employed to concentrate them. With an ice-lens in the polar regions Dr. Scoresby has often concentrated the sun's rays so as to make them burn wood, fire gunpowder, and melt lead; thus proving that the heating power is retained by the rays, even after they have passed through so cold a substance. 104. By rendering the rays of the electric lamp parallel, and then sending them through a lens of ice, we obtain all the effects which Dr. Scoresby obtained with the rays of the sun. § 32. Winter on the Mer de Glace 225. The winter chosen is an inclement one. There is snow in London, snow in Paris, snow in Geneva; snow near Chamouni so deep that the road fences are entirely effaced. On Christmas night—nearly at mid-night—1859, your deputy reaches Chamouni. 226. The snow fell heavily on December 26; but on the 27th, during a lull in the storm, we turn out. There are with me four good guides and a porter. They tie planks to their feet to prevent them from sinking in the snow; I neglect this precaution and sink often to the waist. Four or five times during our ascent the slope cracks with an explosive sound, and the snow threatens to come down in avalanches. The freshly-fallen snow was in that particular condition which causes its granules to adhere, and hence every flake falling on the trees had been retained there. The laden pines presented beautiful and often fantastic forms. 227. After five hours and a half of arduous work the Montanvert was attained. We unlocked the forsaken auberge, round which the snow was reared in buttresses. I have already spoken of the complex play of crystallising forces. The frost-figures on the window-panes of the auberge were wonderful: mimic shrubs and ferns wrought by the building power while hampered by the adhesion between the glass and the film in which it worked. The appearance of the glacier was very impressive; all sounds were stilled. The cascades which in summer fill the air with their music were silent, hanging from the ledges of the rocks in fluted columns of ice. The surface of the glacier was obviously higher than it had been in summer; suggesting the thought that while the winter cold maintained the lower end of the glacier jammed between its boundaries, the upper portions still moved downwards and thickened the ice. The peak of the Aiguille du Dru shook out a cloud-banner, the origin and nature of which have been already explained (84). (See *Frontispiece*.) 228. On the morning of the 28th this banner was strikingly large and grand, and reddened by the light of the rising sun, it glowed like a flame. Roses of cloud also clustered round the crests of the Grande Jorasse and hung upon the pinnacles of Charmoz. Four men, well roped together, descended to the glacier. I had trained one of them in 1857, and he was now to fix the stakes. The storm had so distributed the snow as to leave alternate lengths of the glacier bare and thickly covered. Where much snow lay great caution was required, for hidden crevasses were underneath. The men sounded with their staffs at every step. Once while looking at the party through my telescope the leader suddenly disappeared; the roof of a crevasse had given way beneath him; but the other three men promptly gathered round and lifted him out of the fissure. The true line was soon picked up by the theodolite; one by one the stakes were fixed until a series of eleven of them stood across the glacier. 229. To get higher up the valley was impracticable; the snow was too deep, and the aspect of the weather too threatening; so the theodolite was planted amid the pines a little way below the Montanvert, whence through a vista I could see across the glacier. The men were wrapped at intervals by whirling snow-wreaths which quite hid them, and we had to take advantage of the lulls in the wind. Fitfully it came up the valley, darkening the air, catching the snow upon the glacier, and tossing it throughout its entire length into high and violently agitated clouds, separated from each other by cloudless spaces corresponding to the naked portions of the ice. In the midst of this turmoil the men continued to work. Bravely and steadfastly stake after stake was set, until at length a series of ten of them was fixed across the glacier. 230. Many of the stakes were fixed in the snow. They were four feet in length, and were driven in to a depth of about three feet. But that night, while listening to the wild onset of the storm, I thought it possible that the stakes and the snow which held them might be carried bodily away before the morning. The wind, however, lulled. We rose with the dawn, but the air was thick with descending snow. It was all composed of those exquisite six-petaled flowers, or six-rayed stars, which have been already figured and described (§ 9). The weather brightening, the theodolite was planted at the end of the first line. The men descended, and, trained by their previous experience, rapidly executed the measurements. The first line was completed before 11 A. M. Again the snow began to fall, filling all the air. Spangles innumerable were showered upon the heights. Contrary to expectation, the men could be seen and directed through the shower. 231. To reach the position occupied by the theodolite at the end of our second line, I had to wade breast-deep through snow which seemed as dry and soft as flour. The toil of the men upon the glacier in breaking through the snow was prodigious. But they did not flinch, and after a time the leader stood behind the farthest stake, and cried, *Nous avons fini*. I was surprised to hear him so distinctly, for falling snow had been thought very deadening to sound. The work was finished, and I struck my theodolite with a feeling of a general who had won a small battle. 232. We put the house in order, packed up, and shot by glissade down the steep slopes of *La Filia* to the vault of the Arveiron. We found the river feeble, but not dried up. Many weeks must have elapsed since any water had been sent down from the surface of the glacier. But at the setting in of winter the fissures were in a great measure charged with water; and the Arveiron of to-day was probably due to the gradual *drainage* of the glacier. There was now no danger of entering the vault, for the ice seemed as firm as marble. In the cavern we were bathed by blue light. The strange beauty of the place suggested magic, and put me in mind of stories about fairy caves which I had read when a boy. At the source of the Arveiron our winter visit to the Mer de Glace ends; next morning your deputy was on his way to London. § 67. Conclusion 491. Here, my friend, our labours close. It has been a true pleasure to me to have you at my side so long. In the sweat of our brows we have often reached the heights where our work lay, but you have been steadfast and industrious throughout, using in all possible cases your own muscles instead of relying upon mine. Here and there I have stretched an arm and helped you to a ledge, but the work of climbing has been almost exclusively your own. It is thus that I should like to teach you all things; showing you the way to profitable exertion, but leaving the exertion to you—more anxious to bring out your manliness in the presence of difficulty than to make your way smooth by toning difficulties down. 492. Steadfast, prudent, without terror, though not at all times without awe, I have found you on rock and ice, and you have shown the still rarer quality of steadfastness in intellectual effort. As here set forth, our task seems plain enough, but you and I know how often we have had to wrangle resolutely with the facts to bring out their meaning. The work, however, is now done, and you are master of a fragment of that sure and certain knowledge which is founded on the faithful study of nature. Is it not worth the price paid for it? Or rather, was not the paying of the price—the healthful, if sometimes hard, exercise of mind and body, upon alp and glacier—a portion of our delight? 493. Here then we part. And should we not meet again, the memory of these days will still unite us. Give me your hand. Good bye.