LAST year we spent pleasant hours conversing together, as it were, about many interesting subjects. Month after month we noted the varied and interesting changes in spring, summer, autumn, and winter, and each season gave us many beautiful lessons. The land was the sphere of most of our talks. But if the dry land has its wonders, the world of waters is not less wonderful, and this year, if the Lord will, month after month, I would like us to chat together about the many, many strange and interesting matters connected with water.
The youngest of my readers has seen a tiny stream trickling down some hill side; and perhaps in trying to find where it came from, you have traced it to a little bubbling spring, or fountain; and then you have followed its downward course, as it rippled along its pretty stony bed, leaping over pebbles here, and there losing itself amidst the forget-me-nots, and violets, and bluebells, as it wanders through some rich meadow; and soon you found it dropping into another stream, perhaps not much larger than itself. On you have gone, and first on this side, and then on that, one after another, similar little streams have dropped into it, until it has become quite a brook. And now, if it be a hilly country, it begins to dash and roll and foam, here, as in the picture before you, leaping over large rocks and stones, there gliding deeply and slowly through some dark deep ravine, till it reaches a low expanding valley, where it is lost by joining some broad, deep, flowing river. Such a river, as the great Mississippi, in America, or the famous Nile, in Africa, or the most wonderful of all rivers, the Amazon, in South America, might run on for thousands of miles, ever deepening and widening, as river after river comes tumbling into it. And in this way the tiny stream becomes a mighty river, and great and powerful steamers, laden with thousands of tons of merchandise, and hundreds, or it may be, even thousands of men and women crowd their decks; and still on rolls this mighty river, till it has become so wide you could scarce see from one bank to the other; and at last it also is lost in the mighty ocean of waters.
In our small English Island of course we have no such long rivers as in America and Africa. The Thames, our longest and most important river, is only 240 miles in length. The next longest is the Severn, only 210 miles long.
But, says one, where does all this water come from? I saw the tiny fountain bubbling up near the top of a hill, but how did it get there?
The answer is easy. The rain fell on the hill-top, the earth swallowed it up, ant it found its way through the earth and crevices of rocks, till it came trickling out of the fountain. But where did the rain come from?
The clouds.
Why don't the clouds soon get empty?
That is an important question, and lies at the very foundation of our subject. Fountains produce the streams; streams make the rivers; rivers always find their way to the ocean; and so you might be led to say, fountains, streams, and rivers produce the seas and the oceans. No, dear young friends, it is the very opposite. Seas and oceans are the parents of not only fountains, streams, and rivers, but of the very clouds from which descend the rains that water the earth and fill all the rivers that flow to the sea.
Does this seem a wonder to you? are you ready to exclaim, How can that be, I never saw water go upwards; it always finds the lowest place, and I should have thought that all the seas and great oceans were filled by the mighty rivers pouring such vast volumes of water into them. Though you do not see the water ascend, yet it is not the less true, that every drop of water first finds its way from the ocean, and from the moisture on the surface of the earth.
Let me explain this to you. You all know that around the earth there is what we call the atmosphere. This is composed of certain gases which we breathe, and without which, neither mans animal, nor plant could live. But besides the gases, the atmosphere contains a vast mass of invisible vapor held in it, much in the same manner as water is held in a sponge. This atmosphere extends for many miles—about forty, all round the earth, and there is constantly going on a process by which immense bodies of water are carried up above the earth. This is called evaporation, and by its means infinitely small particles of vapor constantly ascend. Heat and electricity (though what that is no one can tell) are the agents by which all this is produced. So wonderful is the effect of this evaporation, that it is difficult for me to make you understand it. It goes on not only from great bodies of water, but also from the land, from vegetation and trees. Nearly the whole of this process is quite invisible; yet scientific men have been able to make instruments by which it can be accurately measured. In England not less than thirty-two inches of water over the whole surface of the island are elevated every year into the air. But in some parts of the world where it is very hot, the evaporation is much greater, over nine feet of water being annually lifted up into the atmosphere. Now, water one inch deep over England alone would weigh over four thousand million tons; but this means a body of water which neither you nor any, one else can comprehend.
Instead of the great rivers supplying the ocean, if it could all be suddenly dried up, and all the rivers were to continue flowing as now, it would take forty thousand years before the ocean filled up. When I come to tell you about the quantity of water in the mighty ocean, you will be surprised to find what a great portion of the surface of the earth is covered with it. So great is the body of water, that if the earth were one level surface, the water would cover the whole, and be 600 feet deep in every part.
But this wonderful process of evaporation is not altogether invisible. You have all seen a beautiful white cloud of vapor over a sheet of water or a river. This is water ascending so densely that it becomes visible. The other day, I walked through Greenwich Park after a night of severe frost, and no sight could be more beautiful. Every blade of grass, and every twig on the grand old trees was covered with sparkling diamonds, white as virgin snow. This again was evaporation. As the vapor formed in infinite particles, and before it could wing its way aloft, it was frozen into all those brilliant gems. When you look aloft and admire the white fleecy clouds skimming so beautifully along, these are but water drawn up by heat; and when you see the black thunderclouds come rolling on, and then deluging the earth with tremendous rains, you see again the effect of evaporation; every drop of that rain had been previously drawn up from the earth.
All this is according to the Word of God. "He calleth for the waters of the sea and poureth them out upon the face of the earth." And again, "All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come thither they return again." In this process we have indeed perpetual motion, vapor ever ascending from the earth and returning thither again.
I need not tell you what a blessing this wonder full process of evaporation is to the whole world. Were it to cease but for a short time, universal desolation and death would follow. In hot countries long droughts are not uncommon. In 1827 there was such a time in Buenos Ayres, when all the brooks dried up, all vegetation failed, and over one million head of cattle died. The dust blew about in such clouds, as to cover all land-marks, and none could tell where their estates began or ended. During such a dry time in Africa, wild beasts, especially elephants, have in a body invaded the towns to get possession of the wells, and regular battles have been fought between them and the people. At such a time, wild horses in immense multitudes will travel many miles in search of a river, and when reached thousands of those who arrive first are overwhelmed and crushed to death by those that follow.
What so common or so precious as bread and water? Without water the world would become at once one universal scene of desolation. Without bread we must all perish. But have you, dear young friends, drunk of the "living water?" eaten of that bread which came down from heaven? Let me ask you to read the first Psalm and Jer. 7:7, 87Then will I cause you to dwell in this place, in the land that I gave to your fathers, for ever and ever. 8Behold, ye trust in lying words, that cannot profit. (Jeremiah 7:7‑8), where you will see what a precious thing this living water is.
Having told you thus much about the evaporation of water, if the Lord will, next chapter I will tell you some interesting facts about springs and rivers.