Consider gravely what that number means, and what we are to infer from it. What force is there in space between my eye and that light? What forces are there in space between our eyes and the sun and our eyes and the remotest visible star! There is matter and there is motion, but what magnitude of force may there be? I move through this "luminiferous ether" as if it were nothing. But were there vibrations with such frequency in a medium of steel or brass, they would be measured by millions and millions and millions of tons action on a square inch of matter. There are no such forces in our air. Comets make a disturbance in the air, and perhaps the luminiferous ether is split up by the motion of a comet through it. So when we explain the nature of electricity, we explain it by a motion of the luminiferous ether. We cannot say that it is electricity. What can this luminiferous ether be? It is something that the planets move through with the greatest ease. It permeates our air; it is nearly in the same condition, so far as our means of judging are concerned, in our air and in the interplanetary space. The air disturbs it but little; you may reduce the air by air pumps to the hundred thousandth of its density, and you make little effect in the transmission of light through it. The luminiferous ether is an elastic solid. The nearest analogy I can give you is this jelly which you see.[6] The nearest analogy to the waves of light is the motion, which you can imagine, of this elastic jelly, with a ball of wood floating in the middle of it. Look there, when with my hand I vibrate the little red ball up and down, or when I turn it quickly round the vertical diameter, alternately in opposite directions; that is the nearest representation I can give you of the vibrations of luminiferous ether. [6] Exhibiting a large bowl of clear jelly with a small red wooden ball embedded in the surface near the center. Another illustration is Scottish shoemaker's wax or Burgundy pitch, but I know Scottish shoemaker's wax better. It is heavier than water, and absolutely answers my purpose. I take a large slab of the wax, place it in a glass jar filled with water, place a number of corks on the lower side and bullets on the upper side. It is brittle like the Trinidad or Burgundy pitch which I have in my hand. You can see how hard it is, but if left to itself it flows like a fluid. The shoemaker's wax breaks with a brittle fracture, but it is viscous, and gradually yields.