Suppose the pieces forming the ring—it may be only two, if you choose—are as small as the molecules we have described, the same thing would be true of them. Each molecular ring would have its magnetic attractions satisfied and would not attract other molecules outside of its own little circle. When the iron is in the neutral state it will not as a mass attract another piece of iron, because the millions of little natural magnets of which it is made up have their attractive force all turned in upon themselves.
Now, if we make a helix, or coil, of insulated wire and put a piece of iron into it, and pass a current of electricity through the helix, the iron becomes a magnet. Why? Because the electric current has the power to break up these molecular magnetic rings and turn all their like poles in one direction, so that their attractions are no longer satisfied among themselves, and with a combined effort they reach outside and attract any piece of iron that is within reach. In this state we say it is magnetized. Most people think that we have put something into the iron, but we have not; we have only developed and made active its inherent power. It must be kept in mind that it takes power to develop this magnetic power from its state of neutrality and that something is never made from nothing. When this power is developed it will do work in falling back to its natural state. The power is natural to the molecules of the metal. It is only being exerted in a new direction. The millions of little natural magnets have been forced to combine their attractions into one whole and exert it on something outside of themselves. They are under a strain in this condition, like a bent bow, and there is a tendency to fly back to the natural position, and if it is soft iron and not steel, they will fly back as soon as the power that wrenched them apart and is holding them apart is taken away. This power is the electric current. Now break the current, and the little natural magnets, that have been so ruthlessly torn from their home circle attachments, fly back to them again with the speed of lightning, and the iron rod as a whole is no longer a magnet. The power to become so under the electrical strain is in it still—only latent.
The kind of magnet that we have been describing is called an electromagnet. It is a magnet only so long as the electric current is passing around it. There is another kind of magnet called a permanent magnet that will remain a magnet after the current is taken away. The permanent magnet is made of steel and hardened; then its poles are placed, to the poles of a powerful magnet, either electro or permanent, when its molecular rings are wrenched apart and arranged in a polarized position as heretofore described. Now take it away from the magnet and it will be found to retain its magnetism. The molecules tend to fly back the same as those of the soft iron, but they cannot because hardened steel is so much finer grained than soft iron, and the molecules are so close together that they are held in position by a friction that is called its coercive force. The soft iron is comparatively free from this coercive force, because its molecules are free to move on each other, so that when they are wrenched out of their natural position they fly back by their own attractions as soon as the force holding them apart is taken away. The molecules of hardened steel are unable to fly back, although they tend to do it just as much as in the iron, and so it is called a permanent magnet. Its molecules also are under a strain, like a bent bow. (The form of such a magnet is usually that of a horse-shoe, or U.)
Let us use a homely illustration that may help us to understand. Let ten boys represent the molecules in a piece of iron. Let them pair off into five pairs and each one clasp his mate in his arms; each one, say, is exerting a force of ten pounds, and it would require a force of twenty pounds to pull any one of the pairs apart. The five pairs are exerting a force of one hundred pounds, but this force is not felt outside of themselves. Now let them unclasp themselves and take hold of a rope that is tied to a post, and all pull with the same force that they were using, to wit, ten pounds each, and all pull in the same direction, and they would put a strain of one hundred pounds upon the post, the same power that they were exerting upon themselves before they combined their efforts on something outside of themselves. So with the magnet. So long as the force of each molecule is wholly spent upon its neighbor there is nothing left for exterior use. But as soon as they all line up and pull conjointly in the same direction their combined force is felt outside. The analogy may not be perfect, but it will help you to get a mental picture of what takes place in iron when it is magnetized.
We have now described the magnet and the inherent power residing in the molecular structure of iron. It is this magic power slumbering in its molecules and the ability of the electric current to arouse them to action at will and to hold them in action and at will let them fly back to their normal position, that gives to electricity and magnetism—twin sisters in nature's household—their great value as the servants of man. There would be no virtue in winding up a weight if it could not run down and do work in its fall. Simply bending a bow would never send the arrow flying over its course; it must be released as well. The magnet could not accomplish the great work it does if we could only charge it and not have the ability to discharge it. Without this ability the electric motor would not revolve, the electric light would not burn, the click of the telegraph would not be heard, the telephone would not talk, nor would the telautograph write.
I have said that the permanent magnet would hold its charge after once having been magnetized. This is true only in a sense and under favorable conditions. If made of the best of steel for the purpose and hardened and tempered in just the right way, it will hold its charge if it is given something to do. If a piece of iron is placed across its poles it also becomes a magnet and its molecules turn and work in harmony with those of the mother magnet. These magnetic lines of force reach around in a circuit. Even before the iron, or "keeper," as it is called, is put across its poles there are lines of force reaching around through the air or ether from one pole to another. (For a description of Ether see Chap. V.) This is called the "field" of the magnet, and when the iron is placed in this field the lines of force pass through it in a closed circuit, and if the "keeper" is large enough to take care of all the lines of force in the field the magnet will not attract other bodies, because its attraction is satisfied, like its prototype in the molecular ring described above.
We speak of lines of force, not that force is necessarily exerted in a bundle of lines but as a convenient way of telling the strength of a magnetic field. The practical limit of the magnetization of soft iron (called saturation) is 18,000 lines to the square centimeter. As long as we give our magnet something to do, up to the measure of its capacity, it will keep up its power. We may make other magnets with it, thousands, yea, millions of them, and it not only does not lose its power but may be even stronger for having done this work. If, however, we hang it up without its "keeper," and give it nothing to do, it gradually returns to its natural condition in the home circle of molecular rings. Little by little the coercive force is overcome by the constant tendency of the molecule to go back to its natural position among its fellows.
The magnet furnishes many beautiful lessons, as indeed do all the natural phenomena. Every man has within him a latent power that needs only to be aroused and directed in the right way to make his influence felt upon his fellows. Like the magnet, the man who uses his power to help his fellows up to the measure of his limitations not only has been a benefactor to his race, but is himself a stronger and better man for having done so. But, again, like the magnet, if he allows these God-given powers to lie still and rust for want of legitimate use he gradually loses the power he had and becomes simply a moving thing without influence or use in a world in which he vegetates. But let us leave philosophy and go back to science.
One of the striking exhibitions of magnetism is found in the earth. The earth itself is a great magnet; and there is good reason for believing that it is an electromagnet of great power. The magnetic poles of the earth are not exactly coincident with the geographical poles, and they are not constant. There is a gradual deviation going on, but as it follows a certain