History of measurements

Length Length is the most compulsory measure in bland life, and units of length in most countries still simulate humanitys initial facile methods. The in. is a thumb. The feet speaks for itself. The back yard relates closely to a tellurian pace, yet additionally derives from dual cubits (the magnitude of the forearm). The mile is in begin the Roman mille passus a thousand paces, approximating to a mile given the Romans conclude a gait as dual steps, bringing the hiker back to the same foot. With measurements such as these, it is easy to insist how distant widely separated the subsequent encampment is and to work out either an intent will get by a doorway. For the formidable measuring problems of civilized world contemplating land to register skill rights, or offered a commodity by length a some-more correct section is required. The resolution is a rod or bar, of an expect length, kept in a executive open place. From this standard alternative matching rods can be copied and distributed by the community. In Egypt and Mesopotamia these standards have been kept in temples. The elementary section of length in both civilizations is the cubit, formed upon a forearm totalled from bend to tip of center finger. When a length such as this is standardized, it is customarily the kings dimension which is initial taken as the norm.

Weight
For measurements of weight, the tellurian physique provides no such easy approximations as for length. But inlet stairs in. Grains of wheat have been pretty customary in size. Weight can be voiced with a small grade of correctness in conditions of a series of grains a magnitude still used by jewellers. As with measurements of length, a pile of metal can be kept

in the temples as an executive customary for a given series of grains. Copies of this can be expel and weighed in the change for undiluted accuracy. But it is simpler to mistreat a patron about weight, and metal can all as good simply be private to crush the scales. An inspectorate of weights and measures is from the begin a unsentimental necessity, and has remained so.

Volume Among the requirements of traders or tax collectors, a reliable standard of volume is the hardest to achieve. Nature provides some very rough averages, such as goatskins. Baskets, sacks or pottery jars can be made to approximately consistent sizes, sufficient perhaps for many everyday transactions. But where the exact amount of any commodity needs to be known, weight is the measure more likely to be relied upon than volume.

Time

Time, a central theme in modern life, has for most of human history been thought of in very imprecise terms. The day and the week are easily recognized and recorded - though an accurate calendar for the year is hard to achieve. The forenoon is easily distinguishable from the afternoon, provided the sun is shining, and the position of the sun in the landscape can reveal roughly how much of the day has passed. By contrast the smaller parcels of time - hours, minutes and seconds - have until recent centuries been both unmeasurable and unneeded.

Sundial and water clock: from the 2nd millennium BC

The movement of the sun through the sky makes possible a simple estimate of time, from the length and position of a shadow cast by a vertical stick. (It also makes possible more elaborate calculations, as in the attempt of Erathosthenes to measure the world see Erathosthenes and the camels). If marks are made where the sun's shadow falls, the time of day can be recorded in a consistent manner. The result is the sundial. An Egyptian example survives from about 800 BC, but the principle is certainly familiar to astronomers very much earlier. However it is difficult to measure time precisely on a sundial, because the sun's path throug the sky changes with the seasons. Early attempts at precision in timekeeping rely on a different principle.

The water clock, known from a Greek word as the clepsydra, attempts to measure time by the amount of water which drips from a tank. This would be a reliable form of clock if the flow of water could be perfectly controlled. In practice it cannot. The clepsydra has an honourable history from perhaps 1400 BC in Egypt, through Greece and Rome and the Arab civlizations and China, and even up to the 16th century in Europe. But it is more of a toy than a timepiece. The hourglass, using sand on the same principle, has an even longer career. It is a standard feature on 18thcentury pulpits in Britain, ensuring a sermon of sufficient length. In a reduced form it can still be found timing an egg.

The hour: 14th century AD Until the arrival of clockwork, in the 14th century AD, an hour is a variable concept. It is a practical division of the day into 12 segments (12 being the most convenient number for dividing into fractions, since it is divisible by 2, 3 and 4). For the same reason 60, divisble by 2, 3, 4 and 5, has been a larger framework of measurement ever since Babylonian times.

The traditional concept of the hour, as one twelfth of the time between dawn and dusk, is useful in terms of everyday timekeeping. Approximate appointments are easily made, at times which are easily sensed. Noon is always the sixth hour. Half way through the afternoon is the ninth hour - famous to Christians as the time of the death of Jesus on the Cross.

The trouble with the traditional hour is that it differs in length from day to day. And a daytime hour is different from one in the night (also divided into twelve equal hours). A clock cannot reflect this variation, but it can offer something more useful. It can provide every day something which occurs naturally only twice a year, at the spring and autumn equinox, when the 12 hours of day and the 12 hours of night are the same length. In the 14th century, coinciding with the first practical clocks, the meaning of an hour gradually changes. It becomes a specific amount of time, one twenty-fourth of a full solar cycle from dawn to dawn. And the day is now thought of as 24 hours, though it still features on clock faces as two twelves.

Minutes and seconds: 14th - 16th century AD Even the first clocks can measure periods less than an hour, but soon striking the quarter-hours seems insufficient. With the arrival of dials for the faces of clocks, in the 14th century, something like a minute is required. The Middle Ages, by a tortuous route from Babylon, inherit a scale of scientific measurement based on 60. In medieval Latin the unit of one sixtieth is pars minuta prima ('first very small part'), and a sixtieth of that is pars minute secunda ('second very small part'). Thus, on a principle 3000 years old, minutes and seconds find their way into time. Minutes are mentioned from the 14th century, but clocks are not precise enough for anyone to bother about seconds until two centuries later.

Barometer and atmospheric pressure: AD 1643-

1646 Like many significant discoveries, the principle of the barometer is observed by accident. Evangelista Torricelli, assistant to Galileo at the end of his life, is interested in why it is more difficult to pump water from a well in which the water lies far below ground level. He suspects that the reason may be the weight of the extra column of air above the water, and he devises a way of testing this theory. He fills a glass tube with mercury. Submerging it in a bath of mercury, and raising the sealed end to a vertical position, he finds that the mercury slips a little way down the tube. He reasons that the weight of air on the mercury in the bath is supporting the weight of the column of mercury in the tube.

If this is true, then the space in the glass tube above the mercury column must be a vacuum. This plunges him into instant controversy with traditionalists, wedded to the ancient theory - going as far back as Aristotle - that 'nature abhors a vacuum'. But it also encourages von Guericke, in the next decade, to develop the vacuum pump. The concept of variable atmospheric pressure occurs to Torricelli when he notices, in 1643, that the height of his column of mercury sometimes varies slightly from its normal level, which is 760 mm above the mercury level in the bath. Observation suggests that these variations relate closely to changes in the weather. The barometer is born.

With the concept thus established that air has weight, Torricelli is able to predict that there must be less atmospheric pressure at higher altitudes. It is not hard to imagine an experiment which would test this, but the fame for proving the point in 1646 attaches to Blaise Pascal - though it is not even he who carries out the research. Having a weak constitution, Pascal persuades his more robust brother-in-law to carry a barometer to different levels of the 4000-foot Puy de Dme, near Clermont,

and to take readings. The brother-in-law descends from the mountain with the welcome news that the readings were indeed different. Atmospheric pressure varies with altitude.

Mercury thermometer: AD 1714-1742 Gabriel Daniel Fahrenheit, a German glass-blower and instrument-maker working in Holland, is interested in improving the design of thermometer which has been in use for half a century. Known as the Florentine thermometer, because developed in the 1650s in Florence's Accademia del Cimento, this pioneering instrument depends on the expansion and contraction of alcohol within a glass tube. Alcohol expands rapidly with a rise in temperature, but not at an entirely regular speed of expansion. This makes accurate readings difficult, as also does the sheer technical problem of blowing glass tubes with very narrow and entirely consistent bores.

By 1714 Fahrenheit has made great progress on the technical front, creating two separate alcohol thermometers which agree precisely in their reading of temperature. In that year he hears of the researches of a French physicist, Guillaume Amontons, into the thermal properties of mercury. Mercury expands less than alcohol (about seven times less for the same rise in temperature), but it does so in a more regular manner. Fahrenheit sees the advantage of this regularity, and he has the glass-making skills to accomodate the smaller rate of expansion. He constructs the first mercury thermometer, of a kind which subsequently becomes standard.

There remains the problem of how to calibrate the thermometer to show degrees of temperature. The only practical method is to choose two temperatures which can be independently established, mark them on the thermometer and divide the intervening length of tube into a number of equal degrees.

In 1701 Newton has proposed the freezing point of water for the bottom of the scale and the temperature of the human body for the top end. Fahrenheit, accustomed to Holland's cold winters, wants to include temperatures below the freezing point of water. He therefore accepts blood temperature for the top of his scale but adopts the freezing point of salt water for the lower extreme.

Measurement is conventionally done in multiples of 2, 3 and 4, so Fahrenheit splits his scale into 12 sections, each of them divided into 8 equal parts. This gives him a total of 96 degrees, zero being the freezing point of brine and 96 (in his somewhat inaccurate reading) the average temperature of human blood. With his thermometer calibrated on these two points, Fahrenheit can take a reading for the freezing point (32) and boiling point (212) of water. A more logical Swede, Anders Celsius, proposes in 1742 an early example of decimilization. His centigrade scale takes the freezing and boiling temperatures of water as 0 and 100. In English-speaking countries this less complicated system takes more than two centuries to prevail.

Chronometer: AD 1714-1766 Two centuries of ocean travel, since the first European voyages of discovery, have made it increasingly important for ships' captains - whether on naval or merchant business - to be able to calculate their position accurately in any of the world's seas. With the help of the simple and ancientastrolabe, the stars will reveal latitude. But on a revolving planet, longitude is harder. You need to know what time it is, before you can discover what place it is. The importance of this is made evident when the British government, in 1714, sets up a Board of Longitude and offers a massive 20,000 prize to any inventor who can produce a clock capable of keeping accurate time at sea.

The terms are demanding. To win the prize a chronometer (a solemnly scientific term for a clock, first used in a document of this year) must be sufficiently accurate to calculate longitude within thirty nautical miles at the end of a journey to the West Indies. This means that in rough seas, damp salty conditions and sudden changes of temperature the instrument must lose or gain not more than three seconds a day - a level of accuracy unmatched at this time by the best clocks in the calmest London drawing rooms. The challenge appeals to John Harrison, at the time of the announcement a 21-year-old Lincolnshire carpenter with an interest in clocks. It is nearly sixty years before he wins the money. Luckily he lives long enough to collect it.

By 1735 Harrison has built the first chronometer which he believes approaches the necessary standard. Over the next quarter-century he replaces it with three improved models before formally undergoing the government's test. His innovations include bearings which reduce friction, weighted balances interconnected by coiled springs to minimize the effects of movement, and the use of two metals in the balance spring to cope with expansion and contraction caused by changes of temperature. Harrison's first 'sea clock', in 1735, weighs 72 pounds and is 3 feet in all dimensions. His fourth, in 1759, is more like a watch - circular and 5 inches in diameter. It is this machine which undergoes the sea trials.

Harrison is now sixty-seven, so his son takes the chronometer on its test journey to Jamaica in 1761. It is five seconds slow at the end of the voyage. The government argues that this may be a fluke and offers Harrison only 2500. After further trials, and the successful building of a Harrison chronometer by another craftsman (at the huge cost of 450), the inventor is finally paid the full prize money in 1773.

He has proved in 1761 what is possible, but his chronometer is an elaborate and expensive way of achieving the purpose. It is in France, where a large prize is also on offer from the Acadmie des Sciences, that the practical chronometer of the future is developed.

The French trial, open to all comers, takes place in 1766 on a voyage from Le Havre in a specially commissioned yacht, theAurore. The only chronometer ready for the test is designed by Pierre Le Roy. At the end of forty-six days, his machine is accurate to within eight seconds. Le Roy's timepiece is larger than Harrison's final model, but it is very much easier to construct. It provides the pattern of the future. With further modifications from various sources over the next two decades, the marine chronometer in its lasting form emerges before the end of the 18th century. Using it in combination with the sextant, explorers travelling the world's oceans can now bring back accurate information of immense value to the makers of maps and charts.