Probably all liquids are elastic, though considerable force is required to compress them. Water suffers a condensation of nearly 0·0000496 for every atmosphere of pressure, and is consequently capable of conveying sound even more rapidly than air, the velocity in the former being 4708 feet in a second. A person under water hears sounds made in air feebly, but those produced in water very distinctly. According to the experiments of M. Colladon, the sound of a bell was conveyed under water through the Lake of Geneva to the distance of about nine miles. He also perceived that the progress of sound through water is greatly impeded by the interposition of any object, such as a projecting wall; consequently sound under water resembles light in having a distinct shadow. It has much less in air, being transmitted all round buildings or other obstacles, so as to be heard in every direction, though often with a considerable diminution of intensity, as when a carriage turns the corner of a street.
The velocity of sound in passing through solids is in proportion to their hardness, and is much greater than in air or water. A sound which takes some time in travelling through the air passes almost instantaneously along a wire six hundred feet long; consequently it is heard twice—first as communicated by the wire, and afterwards through the medium of the air. The facility with which the vibrations of sound are transmitted along the grain of a log of wood is well known. Indeed they pass through iron, glass, and some kinds of wood, at the rate of 18,530 feet in a second. The velocity of sound is obstructed by a variety of circumstances, such as falling snow, fog, rain, or any other cause which disturbs the homogeneity of the medium through which it has to pass. M. de Humboldt says that it is on account of the greater homogeneity of the atmosphere during the night that sounds are then better heard than during the day, when its density is perpetually changing from partial variations of temperature. His attention was called to this subject on the plain surrounding the Mission of the Apures by the rushing noise of the great cataracts of the Orinoco, which seemed to be three times as loud by night as by day. This he illustrated by experiment. A tall glass half full of champagne cannot be made to ring as long as the effervescence lasts. In order to produce a musical note, the glass together with the liquid it contains must vibrate in unison as a system, which it cannot do in consequence of the fixed air rising through the wine and disturbing its homogeneity, because, the vibrations of the gas being much slower than those of the liquid, the velocity of the sound is perpetually interrupted. For the same reason the transmission of sound as well as light is impeded in passing through an atmosphere of variable density. Sir John Herschel, in his admirable Treatise on Sound, thus explains the phenomenon:—“It is obvious,” he says, “that sound as well as light must be obstructed, stifled, and dissipated from its original direction by the mixture of air of different temperatures, and consequently elasticities; and thus the same cause which produces that extreme transparency of the air at night, which astronomers alone fully appreciate, renders it also more favourable to sound. There is no doubt, however, that the universal and dead silence generally prevalent at night renders our auditory nerves sensible to impressions which would otherwise escape notice. The analogy between sound and light is perfect in this as in so many other respects. In the general light of day the stars disappear. In the continual hum of voices, which is always going on by day, and which reach us from all quarters, and never leave the ear time to attain complete tranquillity, those feeble sounds which catch our attention at night make no impression. The ear, like the eye, requires long and perfect repose to attain its utmost sensibility.”