Chapter 6

life, but, elevated to a higher point of view, it embraces the sphere of organic life, and the numerous gradations of its typical development. Animal and vegetable life. General diffusion of life in the sea and on the land; microscopic vital forms discovered in the polar ice no less than in the depths of the ocean within the tropics. Extension imparted to the horizon of life by Ehrenberg's discoveries. Estimation of the mass (volume) of animal and vegetable organisms -- p. 339-346. Geography of plants and animals. Migrations of organisms in the ovum, or by means of organs capable of spontaneous motion. Spheres of distribution depending on climatic relations. Regions of vegetation, and classification of the genera of animals. Isolated and social living plants and animals. The character of flora and fauna is not determined so much by the predominance of separate families, in certain parallels of latitude, as by the highly complicated relations of the association of many families, and the relative numerical value of their species. The forms of natural families which increase or decrease from the equator to the poles. Investigations into the numerical relation existing in different districts of the earth between each one of the large families to the whole mass of phanerogamia -- p. 346-351. The human race considered according to its physical gradations, and the geographical distribution of its simultaneously occurring types. Races and varieties. All races of men are forms of one single species. Unity of the human race. Languages considered as the intellectual creations of mankind, or as portions of the history of mental activity, manifest a character of nationality, although certain historical occurrences have been the means of diffusing idioms of the same family of languages among nations of wholly different descent -- p. 351-359.

In This material taken from pages 23 to 56

COSMOS: A Sketch of the Physical Description of the Universe, Vol. 1 by Alexander von Humboldt

Translated by E C Otte

from the 1858 Harper & Brothers edition of Cosmos, volume 1 --------------------------------------------------

p 23 INTRODUCTION. ----------------

REFLECTIONS ON THE DIFFERENT DEGREES OF ENJOYMENT PRESENTED TO US BY THE ASPECT OF NATURE AND THE STUDY OF HER LAWS.

In attempting, after a long absence from my native country, to develop the physical phenomena of the globe, and the simultaneous action of the forces that pervade the regions of space, I experience a two-fold cause of anxiety. The subject before me is so inexhaustible and so varied, that I fear either to fall into the superficiality of the encyclopedist, or to weary the mind of my reader by aphorisms consisting of mere generalities clothed in dry and dogmatical forms. Undue conciseness often checks the flow of expression, while diffuseness is alike detrimental to a clear and precise exposition of our ideas. Nature is a free domain, and the profound conceptions and enjoyments she awakens within us can only be vividly delineated by thought clothed in exalted forms of speech, worthy of bearing witness to the majesty and greatness of the creation.

In considering the study of physical phenomena, not merely in its bearings on the material wants of life, but in its general influence on the intellectual advancement of mankind, we find its noblest and most important result to be a knowledge of the chain of connection, by which all natural forces are linked together, and made mutually dependent upon each other; and it is the perception of these relations that exalts our views and ennobles our enjoyments. Such a result can, however, only be reaped as the fruit of observation and intellect, combined with the spirit of the age, in which are reflected all the varied phases of thought. He who can trace, through by-gone times, the stream of our knowledge to its primitive source, will learn from history how, for thousands of years, man has labored, amid the ever-recurring changes of form, to recognize the invariability of natural laws, and has thus, by the force of mind, gradually subdued a great portion of the physical world to his dominion. In interrogating the history of the past, we trace the mysterious course of ideas yielding the first glimmering perception of the same image of p 24 a Cosmos, or harmoniously ordered whole, which, dimly shadowed forth to the human mind in the primitive ages of the world, is now fully revealed to the maturer intellect of mankind as the result of long and laborious observation.

Each of these epochs of the contemplation of the external world -- the earliest dawn of thought and the advanced stage of civilization -- has its own source of enjoyment. In the former, this enjoyment, in accordance with the simplicity of the primitive ages, flowed from an intuitive feeling of the order that was proclaimed by the invariable and successive reappearance of the heavenly bodies, and by the progressive development of organized beings; while in the latter, this sense of enjoyment springs from a definite knowledge of the phenomena of nature. When man began to interrogate nature, and, not content with observing, learned to evoke phenomena under definite conditions; when once he sought to collect and record facts, in order that the fruit of his labors might aid investigation after his own brief existence had passed away, the 'philosophy of Nature' cast aside the vague and poetic garb in which she had been enveloped from her origin, and, having assumed a severer aspect, she now weighs the value of observations, and substitutes induction and reasoning for conjecture and assumption. The dogmas of former ages survive now only in the superstitions of the people and the prejudices of the ignorant, or are perpetuated in a few systems, which, conscious of their weakness, shroud themselves in a vail of mystery. We may also trace the same primitive intuitions in languages exuberant in figurative expressions; and a few of the best chosen symbols engendered by the happy inspiration of the earliest ages, having by degrees lost their vagueness through a better mode of interpretation, are still preserved among our scientific terms.

Nature considered 'rationally', that is to say, submitted to the process of thought, is a unity in diversity of phenomena; a harmony blending together all created things, however dissimilar in form and attributes; one great whole ([Greek words]) animated by the breath of life. The most important result of a rational inquiry into nature is, therefore, to establish the unity and harmony of this stupendous mass of force and matter, to determine with impartial justice what is due to the discoveries of the past and to those of the present, and to analyze the individual parts of natural phenomena without succumbing beneath the weight of the whole. Thus, and thus alone, is it permitted to man, while mindful of the high destiny p 25 of his race, to comprehend nature, to lift the vail that shrouds her phenomena, and as it were, submit the results of observation to the test of reason and of intellect.

In reflecting upon the different degrees of enjoyment presented to us in the contemplation of nature, we find that the first place must be assigned to a sensation, which is wholly independent of an intimate acquaintance with the physical phenomena presented to our view, or of the peculiar character of the region surrounding us. In the uniform plain bounded only by a distant horizon, where the lowly heather, the cistus, or waving grasses, deck the soil; on the ocean shore, where the waves, softly rippling over the beach, leave a track, green with the weeds of the sea; every where, the mind is penetrated by the same sense of the grandeur and vast expanse of nature, revealing to the soul, by a mysterious inspiration, the existence of laws that regulate the forces of the universe. Mere communion with nature, mere contact with the free air, exercise a soothing yet strengthening influence on the wearied spirit, calm the storm of passion, and soften the heart when shaken by sorrow to its inmost depths. Every where, in every region of the globe, in every stage of intellectual culture, the same sources of enjoyment are alike vouchsafed to man. The earnest and solemn thoughts awakened by a communion with nature intuitively arise from a presentiment of the order and harmony pervading the whole universe, and from the contrast we draw between the narrow limits of our own existence and the image of infinity revealed on every side, whether we look upward to the starry vault of heaven, scan the far-stretching plain before us, or seek to trace the dim horizon across the vast expanse of ocean.

The contemplation of the individual characteristics of the landscape, and of the conformation of the land in any definite region of the earth, gives rise to a different source of enjoyment, awakening impressions that are more vivid, better defined, and more congenial to certain phases of the mind, than those of which we have already spoken. At one time the heart is stirred by a sense of the grandeur of the face of nature, by the strife of the elements, or, as in Northern Asia by the aspect of the dreary barrenness of the far-stretching steppes; at another time, softer emotions are excited by the contemplation of rich harvests wrested by the hand of man from the wild fertility of nature, or by the sight of human habitations raised beside some wild and foaming torrent. Here I regard less the degree of intensity than the difference existing in the p 26 various sensations that derive their charm and permanence from the peculiar character of the scene.

If I might be allowed to abandon myself to the recollections of my own distant travels, I would instance, among the most striking scenes of nature, the calm sublimity of a tropical night, when the stars, not sparkling, as in our northern skies, shed their soft and planetary light over the gently-heaving ocean; or I would recall the deep valleys of the Cordilleras, where the tall and slender palms pierce the leafy vail around them, and waving on high their feathery and arrow-like branches for, as it were, "a forest above a forest;"* or I would describe the summit of the Peak of Teneriffe, when a horizontal layer of clouds, dazzling in whiteness, has separated the cone of cinders from the plain below, and suddenly the ascending current pierces the cloudy vail, so that the eye of the traveler may range from the brink of the crater, along the vine-clad slopes of Orotava, to the orange gardens and banana groves that skirt the shore. In scenes like these, it is not the peaceful charm uniformly spread over the face of nature that moves the heart, but rather the peculiar physiognomy and conformation of the land, the features of the landscape, the ever varying outline of the clouds, and their blending with the horizon of the sea, whether it lies spread before us like a smooth and shining mirror, or is dimly seen through the morning mist. All that the senses can but imperfectly comprehend, all that is most awful in such romantic scenes of nature, may become a source of enjoyment to man, by opening a wide field to the creative powers of his imagination. Impressions change with the varying movements of the mind, and we are led by a happy illusion to believe that we receive from the external world that with which we have ourselves invested it.

[footnote] *This expression is taken from a beautiful description of tropical forest scenery in 'Paul and Virginia', by Bernardia de Saint Pierre.

When far from our native country, after a long voyage, we tread for the first time the soil of a tropical land, we experience a certain feeling of surprise and gratification in recognizing, in the rocks that surround us, the same inclined schistose strata, and the same columnar basalt covered with cellular amygdaloids, that we had left in Europe, and whose identity of character, in latitudes so widely different, reminds us that the solidification of the earth's crust is altogether independent of climatic influences. But these rocky masses of schist and of basalt are covered with vegetation of a character with which we are unacquainted, and of a physiognomy wholly p 27 unknown to us; and it is then, amid the colossal and majestic forms of an exotic flora, that we feel how wonderfully the flexibility of our nature fits us to receive new impressions, linked together by a certain secret analogy. We so readily perceive the affinity existing among all the forms of organic life, that although the sight of a vegetation similar to that of our native country might at first be most welcome to the eye, as the sweet familiar sounds of our mother tongue are to the ear, we nevertheless, by degrees, and almost imperceptibly, become familiarized with a new home and a new climate. As a true citizen of the world, man every where habituates himself to that which surrounds him; yet fearful, as it were, of breaking the links of association that bind him to the home of his childhood, the colonist applies to some few plants in a far-distant clime the names he had been familiar with in his native land; and by the mysterious relations existing among all types of organization, the forms of exotic vegetation present themselves to his mind as nobler and more perfect developments of those he had loved in earlier days. Thus do the spontaneous impressions of the untutored mind lead, like the laborious deductions of cultivated intellect, to the same intimate persuasion, that one sole and indissoluble chain binds together all nature.

It may seem a rash attempt to endeavor to separate, into its different elements, the magic power exercised upon our minds by the physical world, since the character of the landscape, and of every imposing scene in nature, depends so materially upon the mutual relation of the ideas and sentiments simultaneously excited in the mind of the observer.

The powerful effect exercised by nature springs, as it were, from the connection and unity of the impressions and emotions produced; and we can only trace their different sources by analyzing the individuality of objects and the diversity of forces.

The richest and most varied elements for pursuing an analysis of this nature present themselves to the eyes of the traveler in the scenery of Southern Asia, in the Great Indian Archipelago, and more especially, too, in the New Continent, where the summits of the lofty Cordilleras penetrate the confines of the aerial ocean surrounding our globe, and where the same subterranean forces that once raised these mountain chains still shake them to their foundation and threaten their downfall.

Graphic delineations of nature, arranged according to systematic views, are not only suited to please the imagination, p 28 but may also, when properly considered, indicate the grades of the impressions of which I have spoken, from the uniformity of the sea-shore, or the barren steppes of Siberia, to the inexhaustible fertility of the torrid zone. If we were even to picture to ourselves Mount Pilatus placed on the Schreckhorn,* or the Schneekoppe of Silesia on Mont Blanc, we should p 29 not have attained to the height of that great Colossus of the Andes, the Chimborazo, whose height is twice that of Mont Aetna; and we must pile the Righi, or Mount Athos, on the summit of the Chimborazo, in order to form a just estimate of the elevation of the Dhawalagiri, the highest point of the Himalaya.

[footnote] *These comparisons are only approximative. The several elevations above the level of the sea are, in accurate numbers, as follows: The Schneekoppe or Riesenkoppe, in Silesia about 5270 feet, according to Hallaschka. The Righi, 5902 feet, taking the height of the Lake of Lucerne at 1426 feet, according to Eschman. (See 'Compte Rendu des Mesures Trigonometriques en Suisse', 1840, p. 230.) Mount Athos, 6775 feet, according to Captain Gaultier; Mount Pilatus, 7546 feet; Mount Aetna, 10,871 feet, according to Captain Smyth; or 10,874 feet, according to the barometrical measurement made by Sir John Herschel, and communicated to me in writing in 1825, and 10,899 feet, according to angles of altitude taken by Cacciatore at Palermo (calculated by assuming the terrestrial refraction to be 0.076); the Schreckhorn, 12,383 feet; the Jungfrau, 13,720 feet, according to Tralles; Mount Blanc, 15,775 feet, according to the different measurements considered by Roger ('Bibl. Univ.', May, 1828, 0. 24-53), 15,733 feet, according to the measurements taken from Mount Columbier by Carlini in 1821, and 15,748 feet, as measured by the Austrian engineers from Trelod and the Glacier d'Ambin.

[footnote continued] The actual height of the Swiss mountains fluctuates, according to Eschman's observations, as much as 25 English feet, owing to the varying thickness of the stratum of snow that covers the summits. Chimborazo is, according to my trigonometrical measurements, 21,421 feet (see Humboldt, 'Recueil d'Obs. Astr.', tome i., p. 73), and Dhawalagiri, 28,074 feet. As there is a difference of 445 feet between the determinations of Blake and Webb, the elevation assigned to the Dhawalagiri (or white mountain, from the Sanscrit 'dhawala', white, and 'giri', mountain) can not be received with the same confidence as that of the Jawahir, 25,749 feet, since the latter rests on a complete trigonomietrical measurement (see Herbert and Hodgson in the 'Asiat. Res.', vol. xiv., p. 189, and Suppl. to 'Encycl. Brit.', vol. iv., p. 643). I have shown elsewhere ('Ann. des Sciences Naturelles', Mars, 1825) that the height of the Dhawalagiri (28,074 feet) depends on several elements that have not been ascertained with certainty, as azimuths and latitudes (Humboldt, 'Asie Centrale', t. iii., p. 282). It has been believed, but without foundation, that in the Tartaric chain, north of Thibet, opposite to the chain of Kuen-lun, there are several snowy summits, whose elevation is about 30,000 English feet (almost twice that of Mont Blanc), or, at any rate, 29,000 feet (see Captain Alexander Gerard's and John Gerard's 'Journey to the Boorendo Pass', 1840, vol. i., p. 143 and 311). Chimborazo is spoken of in the text only as 'one' of the highest summits of the chain of the Andes; for in the year 1827, the learned and highly-gifted traveler, Pentland, in his memorable expedition to Upper Peru (Bolivia), measured the elevation of two mountains situated to the east of Lake Titicaca, viz., the Sorata, 25,200 feet, and the Illimani, 24,000 feet, both greatly exceeding the height of Chimborazo, which is only 21,421 feet, and being nearly equal in elevation to the Jawahir, which is the highest mountain in the Himalaya that has as yet been accurately measured. Thus Mont Blanc is 5646 feet below Chimborazo; Chimborazo, 3779 feet below the Sorata; the Sorata, 549 feet below the Jawahir, and probably about 2880 feet below the Dhawalagiri. According to a new measurement of the Illimani, by Pentland, in 1838, the elevation of this mountain is given at 23,868 feet, varying only 133 feet from the measurement taken in 1827. The elevations have been given in this note with minute exactness, as erroneous numbers have been introduced into many maps and tables recently published, owing to incorrect reductions of the measurements. [In the preceding note, taken from those appended to the Introduction in the French translation, rewritten by Humboldt himself, the measurements are given in meters, but these have been converted into English feet, for the greater convenience of the general reader.] -- 'Tr.'

But although the mountains of India greatly surpass the Cordilleras of South America by their astonishing elevation (which, after being long contested, has at last been confirmed by accurate measurements), they can not, from their geographical position, present the same inexhaustible variety of phenomena by which the latter are characterized. The impression produced by the grander aspects of nature dies not depend exclusively on height. The chain of the Himalaya is placed far beyond the limits of the torrid zone, and scarcely is a solitary palm-tree to be found in the beautiful valleys of Kumaoun and Garhwal.*

[Footnote] *The absence of palms and tree-ferns on the temperate slopes of the Himalaya is shown in Don's 'Flora Nepalensis', 1825, and in the remarkable series of lithographs of Wallich's 'Flora Indica', whose catalogue contains the enormous number of 7683 Himalaya species, almost all phanerogamic plants, which have as yet been but imperfectly classified. In Nepaul (lat. 26 1/2 degrees to 27 1/4 degrees) there has hitherto been observed only one species of palm, Chamaerops martiana, Wall. ('Plantae Asiat.', lib. iii., p. 5,211), which is found at the height of 5250 English feet above the level of the sea, in the shady valley of Bunipa. The magnificent tree-fern, Alsophila brunoniana, Wall. (of which a stem 48 feet long has been in the possession of the British Museum since 1831), does not grow in Nepaul, but is found on the mountains of Silhet, to the northwest of Calcutta, in lat. 24 degrees 50 minutes. The Nepaul fern, Paranema cyathoides, Don, formerly known as Sphaeroptera barbata, Wall. ('Plantae Asiat.', lib. i., p. 42, 48), is indeed, nearly related to Cyathea, a species of which I have seen in the South American Missions of Caripe, measuring 33 feet in height; this is not, however, properly speaking a tree.

On the southern slope of the ancient Paropamisus, in the latitudes of 28 degrees and 34 degrees, nature no longer displays the same abundance of tree-ferns and arborescent grasses, heliconias and orchideous plants, which in tropical p 30 regions are to be found even on the highest plateaux of the mountains. On the slope of the Himalaya, under the shade of the Deodora and the broad-leaved oak, peculiar to these Indian Alps, the rocks of granite and of mica schist are covered with vegetable forms almost similar to those which characterize Europe and Northern Asia. The species are not identical, but closely analogous in aspect and physiognomy, as, marsh parnassia, and the prickly species of Ribes.* The chain of the Himalaya is also wanting in the imposing phenomena of volcanoes, which in the Andes and in the Indian Archipelago often reveal to the inhabitants, under the most terrific forms, the existence of the forces pervading the interior of our planet.

[footnote] *Ribes nubicola, R. glaciale, R. grossularia. The species which compose the vegetation of the Himalaya are four pines, notwithstanding the assertion of the ancients regarding Eastern Asia (Strabo, lib. 11, p. 510, Cas.), twenty-five oaks, four birches, two chestnuts, seven maples, twelve willows, fourteen roses, three species of strawberry, seven species of Alpine roses ('rhododendra'), one of which attains a height of 20 feet, and many other northern genera. Large white apes, having black faces, inhabit the wild chestnut-tree of Kashmir, which grows to a height of 100 feet, in lat. 33 degrees (see Carl von Hugel's 'Kaschmir', 1840, 2d pt. 249). Among the Coniferae, we find the Pinus deodwara, or deodara (in Sanscrit, 'dewa-daru', the timber of the gods), which is nearly allied to Pinus cedrus. Near the limit of perpetual snow flourish the large and showy flowers of the Gentiana venusta, G. Moorcroftiana, Swertia purpurescens, S. speciosa, Parnassia armata, P. nubicola, Poenia Emode, Tulipa stellata; and besides varieties of European genera peculiar to these Indian mountains, true European species as Leontodon taraxacum, Prunella vulgaris, Galium aparine, and Thlaspi arvense. The heath mentioned by Saunders, in Turner's 'Travels', and which had been confounded with Calluna vulgaris, is an Andromeda, a fact of the greatest importance in the geography of Asiatic plants. If I have made use, in this work, of the unphilosophical expressions of European genera, 'European' special, 'growing wild in Asia', etc., it has been in consequence of the old botanical language, which, instead of the idea of a large dissemination, or, rather, of the coexistence of organic productions, has dogmatically substituted the false hypothesis of a migration, which, from predilection for Europe, is further assumed to have been from west to east.

Moreover, on the southern declivity of the Himalaya, where the ascending current deposits the exhalations rising from a vigorous Indian vegetation, the region of perpetual snow begins at an elevation of 11,000 or 12,000 feet above the level of the sea,* thus setting a limit to the development of organic p 31 life in a zone that is nearly 3000 feet lower than that to which it attains in the equinoctial region of the Cordilleras.

[footnote] *On the southern declivity of the Himalaya, the limit of perpetual snow is 12,978 feet above the level of the sea; on the northern declivity, or, rather, on the peaks which rise above the Thibet, or Tartarian plateau, this limit is at 16,625 feet from 30 1/2 degrees to 32 degrees of latitude, while at the equator, in the Andes of Quito, it is 15,790 feet. Such is the result I have deduced from the combination of numerous data furnished by Webb, Gerard, Herbert, and Moorcroft. (See my two memoirs on the mountains of India, in 1816 and 1820, in the 'Ann. de Chimie et de Physique', t. iii., p. 303; t. xiv., p. 6, 22, 50.) The greater elevation to which the limit of perpetual snow recedes on the Tartarian declivity is owing to the radiation of heat from the neighboring elevated plains, to the purity of the atmosphere, and to the infrequent formation of snow in an air which is both very cold and very dry. (Humboldt, 'Asie Centrale', t. iii., p. 281-326.) My opinion on the difference of height of the snow-line on the two sides of the Himalaya has the high authority of Colebrooke in its favor. He wrote to me in June, 1824, as follows: "I also find, from the data in my possession, that the elevation of the line of perpetual snow is 13,000 feet. On the southern declivity, and at latitude 31 degrees, Webb's measurements give me 13,500 feet, consequently 500 feet more than the height deduced from Captain Hodgson's observations. Gerard's measurements fully confirm your opinion that the line of snow is higher on the northern than on the southern side." It was not until the present year (1840) that we obtained the complete and collected journal of the brothers Gerard, published under the supervision of Mr. Lloyd. ('Narrative of a Journey from Cawnpoor to the Boorendo Pass, in the Himalaya, by Captain Alexander Gerard and John Gerard, edited by George Lloyd', vol. i., p. 292, 311, 320, 327 and 341.) Many interesting details regarding some localities may be found in the narrative of 'A Visit to the Shatool, for the Purpose of determining the Line of Perpetual Snow on the southern face of the Himalaya, in August', 1822. Unfortunately, however, these travelers always confound the elevation at which sporadic snow falls with the maximum of the height that the snow-line attains on the Thibetian plateau. Captain Gerard distinguishes between the summits that rise in the middle of the plateau, where he states the elevation of the snow-line to be between 18,000 and 19,000 feet, and the northern slopes of the chain of the Himalaya, which border on the defile of the Sutledge, and can radiate but little heat, owing to the deep ravines with which they are intersected. The elevation of the village of Tangno is given at only 9300 feet, while that of the plateau surrounding the sacred lake of Maqasa is 17,000 feet. Captain Gerard finds the snow-line 500 feet lower on the northern slopes, where the chain of the Himalaya is broken through, than toward the southern declivities facing Hindostan, and he there estimates the line of perpetual snow at 15,000 feet. The most striking differences are presented between the vegetation on the Thibetian plateau and that characteristic of the southern slopes of the Himalaya. On the latter the cultivation of grain is arrested at 9974 feet and even there the corn has often to be cut when the blades are still green. The extreme limit of forests of tall oaks and deodars is 11,960 feet; that of dwarf birches, 12,983 feet. On the plains, Captain Gerard found pastures up to the height of 17,000 feet; the cereals will grow at 14,100 feet, or even at 18,540 feet; birches with tall stems at 14,100 feet, and copse or brush wood applicable for fuel is found at an elevation of upward of 17,000 feet, that is to say, 1280 feet and above the lower limits of the snow-line at the equator, in the province of Quito. It is very desirable that the 'mean' elevation of the Thibetian plateau, which I have estimated at only about 8200 feet between the Himalaya and the Kuen-lun, and the difference in the height of the line of perpetual snow on the southern and on the northern slopes of the Himalaya, should be again investigated by travelers who are accustomed to judge of the general conformation of the land. Hitherto simple calculations have too often been confounded with actual measurements, and the elevations of isolated summits with that of the surrounding plateau. (Compare Carl Zimmerman's excellent Hypsometrical Remarks in his 'Geographischen Analyse der Karte von Inner Asien', 1841, s. 98.) Lord draws attention to the difference presented by the two faces of the Himalaya and those of the Alpine chain of Hindoo-Coosh, with respect to the limits of the snow-line. "The latter chain," he says, "has the table-land to the south, in consequence of which the snow-line is higher on the southern side, contrary to what we find to be the case with respect to the Himalaya, which is bounded on the south by sheltered plains, as Hindoo-Coosh is on the north." It must, however, be admitted that the hypsometrical data on which these statements are based require a critical revision with regard to several of their details; but still they suffice to establish the main fact, that the remarkable configuration of the land in Central Asia affords man all that is essential to the maintenance of life, as habitation, food, and fuel, at an elevation above the level of the sea which in almost all other parts of the globe is covered with perpetual ice. We must except the very dry districts of Bolivia, where snow is so rarely met with, and where Pentland (in 1838) fixed the snow-line at 15,667 feet, between 16 degrees and 17 3/4 degrees south latitude. The opinion that I had advanced regarding the difference in the snow-line on the two faces of the Himalaya has been most fully confirmed by the barometrical observations of Victor Jacquemont, who fell an early sacrifice to his noble and unwearied ardor. (See his 'Correspondance pendant son Voyage dans l'Inde', 1828 'a' 1832, liv. 23, p. 290, 296, 299.) "Perpetual snow," says Jacquemont, "descends lower on the southern than on the northern slopes of the Himalaya, and the limit constantly rises as we advance to the north of the chain bordering on India. On the Kionbrong, about 18,317 feet in elevation, according to Captain Gerard, I was still considerably below the limit of perpetual snow which I believe to be 19,690 feet in this part of Hindostan." (This estimate I consider much too high.)

[Footnote continues] The same traveler says, "To whatever height we rise on the southern declivity of the Himalaya, the climate retains the same character, and the same division of the seasons as in the plains of India; the summer solstice being every year marked by the same prevalence of rain which continues to fall without intermission until the autumnal equinox. But a new, a totally different climate begins at Kashmir, whose elevation I estimate to be 5350 feet, nearly equal to that of the cities of Mexico and Popayan" ('Correspond. de Jacquemont', t. ii., p. 58 et 74). The warm and humid air of the sea, as Leopold von Buch well observes, is carried by the monsoons across the plains of India to the skirts of the Himalaya which arrest its course, and hinder it from diverging to the Thibetian districts of Ladak and Lassa. Carl von Hugel estimates the elevation of the Valley of Kashmir above the level of the sea at 5818 feet, and bases his observation on the determination of the boiling point of water (see theil 11, s. 155, and 'Journal of Geog. Soc.', vol. vi., p. 215). In this valley, where the atmosphere is scarcely ever agitated by storms, and in 34 degrees 7 minutes lat., snow is found, several feet in thickness, from December to March.

p 32 But the countries bordering on the equator possess another advantage, to which sufficient attention has not hitherto been p 33 directed. This portion of the surface of the globe affords in the smallest space the greatest possible variety of impressions from the contemplation of nature. Among the colossal mountains of Cundinamarea, of Quito, and of Peru, furrowed by deep ravines, man is enabled to contemplate alike all the families of plants, and all the stars of the firmament. There, at a single glance, the eye surveys majestic palms, humid forests of bambusa, and the varied species of Musaceae, while above these forms of tropical vegetation appear oaks, medlars, the sweet-brier, and umbelliferous plants, as in our European homes. There as the traveler turns his eyes to the vault of heaven, a single glance embraces the constellation of the Southern Cross, the Magellanic clouds, and the guiding stars of the constellation of the Bear, as they circle round the arctic pole. There the depths of the earth and the vaults of heaven display all the richness of their forms and the variety of their phenomena. There the different climates are ranged the one above the other, stage by stage, like the vegetable zones, whose succession they limit; and there the observer may readily trace the laws that regulate the diminution of heat, as they stand indelibly inscribed on the rocky walls and abrupt declivities of the Cordilleras.

Not to weary the reader with the details of the phenomena which I long since endeavored graphically to represent,* I will here limit myself to the consideration of a few of the general results whose combination constitutes the 'physical delineation of the torrid zone.' That which, in the vagueness of our p 34 impressions, loses all distinctness of form, like some distant mountain shrouded from view by a vail of mist, is clearly revealed by the light of mind, which, by its scrutiny into the causes of phenomena, learns to resolve and analyze their different elements, assigning to each its individual character. Thus, in the sphere of natural investigation, as in poetry and painting, the delineation of that which appeals most strongly to the imagination, derives its collective interest from the vivid truthfulness with which the individual features are portrayed.

[footnote] *See, generally my 'Essai sur la Geographie des Plantes, et le Tableau physique des Regions Equinoxiales', 1807, p. 80-88. On the diurnal and nocturnal variations of temperature, see Plate 9 of my 'Atlas Geogr. et Phys. du Nouveau Continent'; and the Tables in my work, entitled 'De distributione Geographica Plantarum, secundum coeli tempriem, et altitudinem Montium', 1817, p. 90-116; the meteorological portion of my 'Asie Centrale', t. iii., p. 212, 224; and, finally, the more recent and far more exact exposition of the variations of temperature experienced in correspondence with the increase of altitude on the chain of the Andes, given in Boussingault's Memoir, 'Sur la profondeur a laquelle on trouve, sous les Tropiques, la couche de Temperature Invariable.' (Ann. de Chimie et de Physique, 1833, t. liii., p. 225-247.) This treatise contains the elevations of 128 points, included between the level of the sea and the declivity of the Antisana (17,900 feet), as well as the mean temperature of the atmosphere, which varies with the height between 81 degrees and 35 degrees F.

The regions of the torrid zone not only give rise to the most powerful impressions by their organic richness and their abundant fertility, but they likewise afford the inestimable advantage of revealing to man, by the uniformity of the variations of the atmosphere and the development of vital forces, and by the contrasts of climate and vegetation exhibited at the different elevations, the invariability of the laws that regulate the course of the heavenly bodies, reflected, as it were, in terrestrial phenomena. Let us dwell, then, for a few moments, on the proofs of this regularity, which is such that it may be submitted to numerical calculation and computation.

In the burning plains that rise but little above the level of the sea, reign the families of the banana, the cycas, and the palm, of which the number of species comprised in the flora of tropical regions has been so wonderfully increased in the present day by the zeal of botanical travelers. To these groups succeed, in the Alpine valleys, and the humid and shaded clefts on the slopes of the Cordilleras, the tree-ferns, whose thick cylindrical trunks and delicate lace-like foliage stand out in bold relief against the azure of the sky, and the cinchona, from which we derive the febrifuge bark. The medicinal strength of this bark is said to increase in proportion to the degree of moisture imparted to the foliage of the tree by the light mists which form the upper surface of the clouds resting over the plains. Every where around, the confines of the forest are encircled by broad bands of social plants, as the delicate aralia, the thibaudia, and the myrtle-leaved Andromeda, while the Alpine rose, the magnificent befaria, weaves a purple girdle round the spiry peaks. In the cold regions of the Paramos, which is continually exposed to the fury of storms and winds, we find that flowering shrubs and herbaceous plants, bearing large and variegated blossoms, have given place to monocotyledons, whose slender spikes constitute the sole covering of the soil. This is the zone of the p 35 grasses, one vast savannah extending over the immense mountain plateaux, and reflecting a yellow, almost golden tinge, to the slopes of the Cordilleras, on which graze the lama and the cattle domesticated by the European colonist. Where the naked trachyte rock pierces the grassy turf, and penetrates into those higher strata of air which are supposed to be less charged with carbonic acid, we meet only with plants of an inferior organization, as lichens, lecideas, and the brightly-colored, dust-like lepraria, scattered around in circular patches. Islets of fresh-fallen snow, varying in form and extent, arrest the last feeble traces of vegetable development, and to these succeeds the region of perpetual snow, whose elevation undergoes but little change, and may be easily determined. It is but rarely that the elastic forces at work within the interior of our globe have succeeded in breaking through the spiral domes, which, resplendent in the brightness of eternal snow, crown the summits of the Cordilleras; and even where these subterranean forces have opened a permanent communication with the atmosphere, through circular craters or long fissures, they rarely send forth currents of lava, but merely eject ignited scoriae, steam, sulphureted hydrogen gas, and jets of carbonic acid.

In the earliest stages of civilization, the grand and imposing spectacle presented to the minds of the inhabitants of the tropics could only awaken feelings of astonishment and awe. It might, perhaps, be supposed, as we have already said, that the periodical return of the same phenomena, and the uniform manner in which they arrange themselves in successive groups, would have enabled man more readily to attain to a knowledge of the laws of nature; but, as far as tradition and history guide us, we do not find that any application was made of the advantages presented by these favored regions. Recent researches have rendered it very doubtful whether the primitive seat of Hindoo civilization -- one of the most remarkable phases in the progress of mankind -- was actually within the tropics. Airyana Vaedjo, the ancient cradle of the Zend, was situated to the northwest of the upper Indus, and after the great religious schism, that is to say, after the separation of the Iranians from the Brahminical institution, the language that had previously been common to them and to the Hindoos assumed among the latter people (together with the literature, habits, and conditions of society) an individual form in the Magodha of Madhya Desa,* a district that is bounded by the great chain p 36 of Himalaya and the smaller range of the Vindhya.

[footnote] *See, on the Madhjadeca, properly so called, Lassen's excellent work, entitled 'Indische Alterthumskunde', bd. i., s. 92. The Chinese give the name of Mo-kie-thi to the southern Bahar, situated to the south of the Ganges (see 'Foe-Koue-Ki' by, 'Chy-Fa-Hian', 1836, p. 256). Djambu-dwipa is the name given to the whole of India; but the words also indicate one of the four Buddhist continents.

In less ancient times the Sanscrit language and civilization advanced toward the southeast, penetrating further within the torrid zone, as my brother Wilhelm von Humboldt has shown in his great work on the Kavi and other languages of analogous structure.*

[Footnote] *'Ueber die Kawi Sprache auf der Insel Java, nebst einer Einleitung uber die Verschiedenheit des menschlichen Sprachbaues und ihren Ein fluss auf die geistige Entwickelung des Menschengrshlecht's' von Wilhelm v. Humboldt, 1836, bd. i., s. 50519.

Notwithstanding the obstacles opposed in northern latitudes to the discovery of the laws of nature, owing to the excessive complication of phenomena, and the perpetual local variations and the distribution of organic forms, it is to the inhabitants of a small section of the temperate zone that the rest of mankind owe the earliest revelation of an intimate and rational acquaintance with the forces governing the physical world. Moreover, it is from the same zone (which is apparently more favorable to the progress of reason, the softening of manners, and the security of public liberty) that the germs of civilization have been carried to the regions of the tropics, as much by the migratory movement of races as by the establishment of colonies, differing widely in their institution from those of the Phoenicians or Greeks.

In speaking of the influence exercised by the succession of phenomena on the greater or lesser facility of recognizing the causes producing them, I have touched upon that important stage of our communion with the external world, when the enjoyment arising from a knowledge of the laws, and the mutual connection of phenomena, associates itself with the charm of a simple contemplation of nature. That which for a long time remains merely an object of vague intuition, by degrees acquires the certainty of positive truth; and man, as an immortal poet has said, in our own tongue -- Amid ceaseless change seeks the unchanging pole.*

[Footnote] *This verse occurs in a poem of Schiller, entitled 'Der Spaziergang' which first appeared in 1795, in the 'Horen.'

In order to trace to its primitive source the enjoyment derived from the exercise of thought, it is sufficient to cast a rapid glance on the earliest dawnings of the philosophy of nature, or of the ancient doctrine of the 'Cosmos.' We find even p 37 among the most savage nations (as my own travels enable me to attest) a certain vague, terror-stricken sense of the all-powerful unity of natural forces, and of the existence of an invisible, spiritual essence manifested in these forces, whether in unfolding the flower and maturing the fruit of the nutrient tree, in upheaving the soil of the forest, or in rending the clouds with the might of the storm. We may here trace the revelation of a bond of union, linking together the visible world and that higher spiritual world which escapes the grasp of the senses. The two become unconsciously blended together, developing in the mind of man, as a simple product of ideal conception and independently of the aid of observation, the first germ of a 'Philosophy of Nature.'

Among nations least advanced in civilization, the imagination revels in strange and fantastic creations, and, by its predilection for symbols, alike influences ideas and language. Instead of examining, men are led to conjecture, dogmatize, and interpret supposed facts that have never been observed. The inner world of thought and of feeling does not reflect the image of the external world in its primitive purity. That which in some regions of the earth manifested itself as the rudiments of natural philosophy, only to a small number of persons endowed with superior intelligence, appears in other regions, and among entire races of men, to be the result of mystic tendencies and instinctive intuitions. An intimate communion with nature, and the vivid and deep emotions thus awakened, are likewise the source from which have sprung the first impulses toward the worship and deification of the destroying and preserving forces of the universe. But by degrees, as man, after having passed through the different gradations of intellectual development, arrives at the free enjoyment of the regulating power of reflection, and learns by gradual progress, as it were, to separate the world of ideas from that of sensations, he no longer rests satisfied merely with a vague presentiment of the harmonious unity of natural forces; thought begins to fulfill its noble mission; and observation, aided by reason, endeavors to trace phenomena to the causes from which they spring.

The history of science teaches us the difficulties that have opposed the progress of this active spirit of inquiry. Inaccurate and imperfect observations have led, by false inductions, to the great number of physical views that have been perpetuated as popular prejudices among all classes of society. Thus by the side of a solid and scientific knowledge of natural phenomena there has been preserved a system of the pretended p 38 results of observation, which is so much the more difficult to shake, as it denies the validity of the facts by which it may be refuted. This empiricism, the melancholy heritage transmitted to us from former times, invariably contends for the truth of its axioms with the arrogance of a narrow-minded spirit. Physical philosophy, on the other hand, when based upon science, doubts because it seeks to investigate, distinguishes between that which is certain and that which is merely probable, and strives incessantly to perfect theory by extending the circle of observation.

This assemblage of imperfect dogmas, bequeathed by one age to another -- this physical philosophy, which is composed of popular prejudices -- is not only injurious because it perpetuates error with the obstinacy engendered by the evidence of ill-observed facts, but also because it hinders the mind from attaining to higher views of nature. Instead of seeking to discover the 'mean' or 'medium' point, around which oscillate, in apparent independence of forces, all the phenomena of the external world, this system delights in multiplying exceptions to the law, and seeks, amid phenomena and in organic forms for something beyond the marvel of a regular succession, and an internal and progressive development. Ever inclined to believe that the order of nature is disturbed, it refuses to recognize in the present any analogy with the past, and guided by its own varying hypotheses, seeks at hazard, either in the interior of the globe or in the regions of space, for the cause of these pretended perturbations.

It is the special object of the present work to combat those errors which derive their source from a vicious empiricism and from imperfect inductions. The higher enjoyments yielded by the study of nature depend upon the correctness and the depth of our views, and upon the extent of the subjects that may be comprehended in a single glance. Increased mental cultivation has given rise, in all classes of society, to an increased desire of embellishing life by augmenting the mass of ideas, and by multiplying means for their generalization; and this sentiment fully refutes the vague accusations advanced against the age in which we live, showing that other interests, besides the material wants of life, occupy the minds of men.

It is almost with reluctance that I am about to speak of a sentiment, which appears to arise from narrow-minded views, or from a certain weak and morbid sentimentality -- I allude to the 'fear' entertained by some persons, that nature may by degrees lose a portion of the charm and magic of her power, p 39 as we learn more and more how to unvail her secrets, comprehend the mechanism of the movements of the heavenly bodies, and estimate numerically the intensity of natural forces. It is true that, properly speaking, the forces of nature can only exercise a magical power over us as long as their action is shrouded in mystery and darkness, and does not admit of being classed among the conditions with which experience has made us acquainted. The effect of such a power is, therefore, to excite the imagination, but that, assuredly, is not the faculty of mind we would evoke to preside over the laborious and elaborate observations by which we strive to attain to a knowledge of the greatness and excellence of the laws of the universe.

The astronomer who, by the aid of the heliometer or a double-refracting prism,* determines the diameter of planetary bodies; who measures patiently year after year, the meridian altitude and the relative distances of stars, or who seeks a telescopic comet in a group of nebulae, does not feel his imagination more excited -- and this is the very guarantee of the precision of his labors -- than the botanist who counts the divisions of the calyx, or the number of stamens in a flower, or examines the connected or the separate teeth of the peristoma surrounding the capsule of a moss. Yet the multiplied angular measurements on the one hand, and the detail of organic relations on the other, alike aid in preparing the way for the attainment of higher views of the laws of the universe.

[Footnote] *Arago's ocular micrometer, a happy improvement upon Rochon's prismatic or double-refraction micrometer. See M. Mathieu's note in Delambre's 'Histoire de l'Astronomie au dix-huitieme Siecle', 1827.

We must not confound the disposition of mind in the observer at the time he is pursuing his labors, with the ulterior greatness of the views resulting from investigation and the exercise of thought. The physical philosopher measures with admirable sagacity the waves of light of unequal length which by interference mutually strengthen or destroy each other, even with respect to their chemical actions; the astronomer, armed with powerful telescopes, penetrates the regions of space, contemplates, on the extremest confines of our solar system, the satellites of Uranus, or decomposes faintly sparkling points into double stars differing in color. The botanist discovers the constancy of the gyratory motion of the chara in the greater number of vegetable cells, and recognizes in the genera and natural families of plants the intimate relations or organic forms. The vault of heaven, studded with nebulae p 40 and stars, and the rich vegetable mantle that covers the soil in the climate of palms, can not surely fail to produce on the minds of these laborious observers of nature an impression more imposing and more worthy of the majesty of creation than on those who are unaccustomed to investigate the great mutual relations of phenomena. I can not, therefore, agree with Burke when he says, "it is our ignorance of natural things that causes all our admiration and chiefly excites our passions."

While the illusion of the senses would make the stars stationary in the vault of heaven, Astronomy, by her aspiring labors, has assigned indefinite bounds to space; and if she have set limits to the great nebula to which our solar system belongs, it has only been to show us in those remote regions of our optic powers, islet on islet of scattered nebulae. The feeling of the sublime, so far as it arises from a contemplation of the distance of the stars, of their greatness and physical extent, reflects itself in the feeling of the infinite, which belongs to another sphere of ideas included in the domain of mind. The solemn and imposing impressions excited by this sentiment are owing to the combination of which we have spoken, and to the analogous character of the enjoyment and emotions awakened in us, whether we float on the surface of the great deep, stand on some lonely mountain summit enveloped in the half-transparent vapory vail of the atmosphere, or by the aid of powerful optical instruments scan the regions of space, and see the remote nebulous mass resolve itself into worlds of stars.

The mere accumulation of unconnected observations of details, devoid of generalization of ideas, may doubtlessly have tended to create and foster the deeply-rooted prejudice, that the study of the exact sciences must necessarily chill the feelings, and diminish the nobler enjoyments attendant upon a contemplation of nature. Those who still cherish such erroneous views in the present age, and amid the progress of public opinion, and the advancement of all branches of knowledge, fail in duly appreciating the value of every enlargement of the sphere of intellect, and the importance of the detail of isolated facts in leading us on to general results. The fear of sacrificing the free enjoyment of nature, under the influence of scientific reasoning, is often associated with an apprehension that every mind may not be capable of grasping the truths of the philosophy of nature. It is certainly true that in the midst of the universal fluctuation of phenomena and vital p 41 forces -- in that inextricable net-work of organisms by turns developed and destroyed -- each step that we make in the more intimate knowledge of nature leads us to the entrance of new labyrinths; but the excitement produced by a presentiment of discovery, the vague intuition of the mysteries to be unfolded, and the multiplicity of the paths before us, all tend to stimulate the exercise of thought in every stage of knowledge. The discovery of each separate law of nature leads to the establishment of some other more general law, or at least indicates to the intelligent observer its existence. Nature, as a celebrated physiologist* has defined it, and as the word was interpreted by the Greeks and Romans, is "that which is ever growing and ever unfolding itself in new forms."

[Footnote] *Carus, 'Von den Urtheilen des Knochen und Schalen Gerustes', 1828 6.

The series of organic types becomes extended or perfected in proportion as hitherto unknown regions are laid open to our view by the labors and researches of travelers and observers; as living organisms are compared with those which have disappeared in the great revolutions of our planet; and as microscopes are made more perfect, and are more extensively and efficiently employed. In the midst of this immense variety, and this periodic transformation of animal and vegetable productions, we see incessantly revealed the primordial mystery of all organic development, that same great problem of 'metamorphosis' which Göthe has treated with more than common sagacity, and to the solution of which man is urged by his desire of reducing vital forms to the smallest number of fundamental types. As men contemplate the riches of nature, and see the mass of observations incessantly increasing before them, they become impressed with the intimate conviction that the surface and the interior of the earth, the depths of the ocean, and the regions of air will still, when thousands and thousands of years have passed away, open to the scientific observer untrodden paths of discovery. The regret of Alexander can not be applied to the progress of observation and intelligence.*

[footnote] * Plut., in 'Vita Alex. Magni', cap. 7

General considerations, whether they treat of the agglomeration of matter in the heavenly bodies, or of the geographical distribution of terrestrial organisms, are not only in themselves more attractive than special studies, but they also afford superior advantages to those who are unable to devote much time to occupations of this nature. The different branches of the study of natural history are only accessible in certain positions of social life, and do not, at every season p 42 and in every climate, present like enjoyments. Thus, in the dreary regions of the north, man is deprived for a long period of the year of the spectacle presented by the activity of the productive forces of organic nature; and if the mind be directed to one sole class of objects, the most animated narratives of voyages in distant lands will fail to interest and attract us, if they do not touch upon the subjects to which we are most partial.

As the history of nations -- if it were always able to trace events to their true causes -- might solve the ever-recurring enigma of the oscillations experienced by the alternately progressive and retrograde movement of human society, so might also the physical description of the world, the science of the 'Cosmos', if it were grasped by a powerful intellect, and based upon a knowledge of all the results of discovery up to a given period, succeed in dispelling a portion of the contradictions which, at first sight, appear to arise from the complication or phenomena and the multitude of the perturbations simultaneously manifested.

The knowledge of the laws of nature, whether we can trace them in the alternate ebb and flow of the ocean, in the measured path of comets, or in the mutual attractions of multiple stars, alike increases our sense of the calm of nature, while the chimera so long cherished by the human mind in its early and intuitive contemplations, the belief in a "discord of the elements," seems gradually to vanish in proportion as science extends her empire. General views lead us habitually to consider each organism as a part of the entire creation, and to recognize in the plant or the animal not merely an isolated species, but a form linked in the chain of being to other forms either living or extinct. They aid us in comprehending the relations that exist between the most recent discoveries and those which have prepared the way for them. Although fixed to one point of space, we eagerly grasp at a knowledge of that which has been observed in different and far-distant regions. We delight in tracking the course of the bold mariner through seas of polar ice, or in following him to the summit of that volcano of the antarctic pole, whose fires may be seen from afar, even at mid-day. It is by an acquaintance with the results of distant voyages that we may learn to comprehend some of the marvels of terrestrial magnetism, and be thus led to appreciate the importance of the establishments of the numerous observatories which in the present day cover both hemispheres, and are designed to note p 43 the simultaneous occurrence of perturbations, and the frequency and duration of 'magnetic storms.'

Let me be permitted here to touch upon a few points connected with discoveries, whose importance can only be estimated by those who have devoted themselves to the study of the physical sciences generally. Examples chosen from among the phenomena to which special attention has been directed in recent times, will throw additional light upon the preceding considerations. Without a preliminary knowledge of the orbits of comets, we should be unable duly to appreciate the importance attached to the discovery of one of these bodies, whose elliptical orbit is included in the narrow limits of our solar system, and which has revealed the existence of an ethereal fluid, tending to diminish its centrifugal force and the period of its revolution.

The superficial half-knowledge, so characteristic of the present day, which leads to the introduction of vaguely comprehended scientific views into general conversation, also gives rise, under various forms, to the expression of alarm at the supposed danger of a collision between the celestial bodies, or of disturbance in the climatic relations of our globe. These phantoms of the imagination are so much the more injurious as they derive their source from dogmatic pretensions to true science. The history of the atmosphere, and of the annual variations of its temperature, extends already sufficiently far back to show the recurrence of slight disturbances in the mean temperature of any given place, and thus affords sufficient guarantee against the exaggerated apprehension of a general and progressive deterioration of the climates of Europe. Encke's comet, which is one of the three 'interior comets', completes its course in 1200 days, but from the form and position of its orbit it is as little dangerous to the earth as Halley's great comet, whose revolution is not completed in less than seventy-six years (and which appeared less brilliant in 1835 than it had done in 1759): the interior comet of Biela intersects the earth's orbit, it is true, but it can only approach our globe when its proximity to the sun coincides with our winter solstice.

The quantity of heat received by a planet, and whose unequal distribution determines the meteorological variations of its atmosphere, depends alike upon the light-engendering force of the sun; that is to say, upon the condition of its gaseous coverings, and upon the relative position of the planet and the central body.

p 44 There are variations, it is true, which, in obedience to the laws of universal gravitation, affect the form of the earth's orbit and the inclination of the ecliptic, that is, the angle which the axis of the earth makes with the plane of its orbit; but these periodical variations are so slow, and are restricted within such narrow limits, that their thermic effects would hardly be appreciable by our instruments in many thousands of years. The astronomical causes of a refrigeration of our globe, and of the diminution of moisture at its surface, and the nature and frequency of certain epidemics -- phenomena which are often discussed in the present day according to the benighted views of the Middle Ages -- ought to be considered as beyond the range of our experience in physics and chemistry.

Physical astronomy presents us with other phenomena, which can not be fully comprehended in all their vastness without a previous acquirement of general views regarding the forces that govern the universe. Such, for instance, are the innumerable double stars, or rather suns, which revolve round one common center of gravity, and thus reveal in distant worlds the existence of the Newtonian law; the larger or smaller number of spots upon the sun, that is to say, the openings formed through the luminous and opaque atmosphere surrounding the solid nucleus; and the regular appearance about the 13th of November and the 11th of August, of shooting stars, which probably form part of a belt of asteroids, intersecting the earth's orbit, and moving with planetary velocity.

Descending from the celestial regions to the earth, we would fain inquire into the relations that exist between the oscillations of the pendulum in air (the theory of which has been perfected by Bessel) and the density of our planet; and how the pendulum, acting the part of a plummet, can, to a certain extent, throw light upon the geological constitution of strata at great depths? By means of this instrument we are enabled to trace the striking analogy which exists between the formation of the granular rocks composing the lava currents ejected from active volcanoes, and those endogenous masses of granite, porphyry, and serpentine, which, issuing from the interior of the earth, have broken, as eruptive rocks, through the secondary strata, and modified them by contact, either in rendering them harder by the introduction of silex, or reducing them into dolomite, or, finally, by inducing within them the formation of crystals of the most varied composition. The elevation of sporadic islands, of p 45 domes of trachyte, and cones of basalt, by the elastic forces emanating from the fluid interior of our globe, has led one of the first geologists of the age, Leopold von Buch, to the theory of the elevation of continents, and of mountain chains generally. This action of subterranean forces in breaking through and elevating strata of sedimentary rocks, of which the coast of Chili, in consequence of a great earthquake, furnished a recent example, leads to the assumption that the pelagic shells found by M. Bonpland and myself on the ridge of the Andes, at an elevation of more than 15,000 English feet, may have been conveyed to so extraordinary a position, not by a rising of the ocean, but by the agency of volcanic forces capable of elevating into ridges the softened crust of the earth.

I apply the term 'volcanic', in the widest sense of the word, to every action exercised by the interior of a planet on its external crust. The surface of our globe, and that of the moon, manifest traces of this action, which in the former, at least, has varied during the course of ages. Those who are ignorant of the fact that the internal heat of the earth increases so rapidly with the increase of depth that granite is in a state of fusion about twenty or thirty geographical miles below the surface,* can not have a clear conception of the causes, and the simultaneous occurrence of volcanic eruptions at places widely removed from one another, or of the extent and intersection of 'circles of commotion' in earthquakes, or of the uniformity of temperature, and equality of chemical composition observed in thermal springs during a long course of years.

[Footnote] * The determinations usually given of the point of fusion are in general much too high for refracting substances. According to the very accurate researches of Mitscherlich, the melting point of granite can hardly exceed 2372 degrees F. [Dr. Mantell states in 'The Wonders of Geology', 1848, vol. i., p. 34, that this increase of temperature amounts to 1 degree of Fahrenheit for every fifty-four feet of vertical depth.] -- Tr.

The quantity of heat peculiar to a planet is, however, a matter of such importance -- being the result of its primitive condensation, and varying according to the nature and duration of the radiation -- that the study of this subject may throw some degree of light on the history of the atmosphere, and the distribution of the organic bodies imbedded in the solid crust of the earth. This study enables us to understand how a tropical temperature, independent of latitude (that is, of the distance from the poles), may have been produced by deep fissures remaining open, and exhaling heat from the interior p 46 of the globe, at a period when the earth's crust was still furrowed and rent, and only in a state of semi-solidification; and a primordial condition is thus revealed to us, in which the temperature of the atmosphere, and climates generally, were owing rather to a liberation of caloric and of different gaseous emanations (that is to say, rather to the energetic reaction of the interior on the exterior) than to the position of the earth with respect to the central body, the sun.

The cold regions of the earth contain, deposited in sedimentary strata, the products of tropical climates; thus, in the coal formations, we find the trunks of palms standing upright amid coniferae, tree ferns, goniatites, and fishes having rhomboidal osseous scales;* in the Jura limestone, colossal skeletons of crocodiles, plesiosauri, planulites, and stems of the cycadeae; in the chalk formations, small polythalmia and bryozoa, whose species still exist in our seas; in tripoli, or polishing slate, in the semi-opal and the farina-like opal or mountain meal, agglomerations of siliceous infusoria, which have been brought to light by the powerful microscope of Ehrenberg;** and, lastly, in transported soils, and in certain caves, the bones of elephants, hyenas, and lions.

[Footnote] *See the classical work on the fishes of the Old World by Agassiz, 'Rech. sur les Poissons Fossiles', 1834, vol. i., p. 38; vol. ii., p. 3, 28, 34, App., p. 6. The whole genus of Amblypterus, Ag., nearly allied to Palaeoniscus (called also Palaeothrissum), lies buried beneath the Jura formations in the old carboniferous strata. Scales which, in some fishes, as in the family of Lepidoides (order of Ganoides), are formed like teeth, and covered in certain parts with enamel, belong, after the Placoides, to the oldest forms of fossil fishes; their living representatives are still found in two genera, the 'Bichir' of the Nile and Senegal, and the 'Lepidosteus' of the Ohio.

[Footnote] **[The 'polishing slate' of Bilin is stated by M. Ehrenberg to form a 'series' of strata fourteen feet in thickness, entirely made up of the siliceous shells of 'Gaillonellae', of such extreme minuteness that a cubic inch of the stone contains forty-one thousand millions! The 'Bergmehl' ('mountain meal' or 'fossil farina') of San Fiora, in Tuscany, is one mass of animalculites. See the interesting work of G. A. Mantell, 'On the Medals of Creation', vol. i., p. 233.] -- Tr.

An intimate acquaintance with the physical phenomena of the universe leads us to regard the products of warm latitudes that are thus found in a fossil condition in northern regions not merely as incentives to barren curiosity, but as subjects awakening deep reflection, and opening new sources of study.

The number and the variety of the objects I have alluded to give rise to the question whether general considerations of physical phenomena can be made sufficiently clear to persons who have not acquired a detailed and special knowledge of p 47 descriptive natural history, geology, or mathematical astronomy? I think we ought to distinguish here between him whose task it is to collect the individual details of various observations, and study the mutual relations existing among them, and him to whom these relations are to be revealed, under the form of general results. The former should be acquainted with the specialities of phenomena, that he may arrive at a generalization of ideas as the result, at least in part, of his own observations, experiments, and calculations. It can not be denied, that where there is an absence of positive knowledge of physical phenomena, the general results which impart so great a charm to the study of nature can not all be made equally clear and intelligible to the reader, but still I venture to hope, that in the work which I am now preparing on the physical laws of the universe, the greater part of the facts advanced can be made manifest without the necessity of appealing to fundamental views and principles. The picture of nature thus drawn, notwithstanding the want of distinctness of some of its outlines, will not be the less able to enrich the intellect, enlarge the sphere of ideas, and nourish and vivify the imagination.

There is, perhaps, some truth in the accusation advanced against many German scientific works, that they lessen the value of general views by an accumulation of detail, and do not sufficiently distinguish between those great results which form, as it were, the beacon lights of science, and the long series of means by which they have been attained. This method of treating scientific subjects led the most illustrious of our poets* to exclaim with impatience, "The Germans have the art of making science inaccessible." An edifice can not produce a striking effect until the scaffolding is removed, that had of necessity been used during its erection.

[Footnote] *Gothe, in 'Die Aphorismen uber Naturwissenschaft', bd. I., s. 155 ('Werke kleine Ausgabe','von' 1833.)

Thus the uniformity of figure observed in the distribution of continental masses, which all terminate toward the south in a pyramidal form, and expand toward the north (a law that determines the nature of climates, the direction of currents in the ocean and the atmosphere, and the transition of certain types of tropical vegetation toward the southern temperate zone), may be clearly apprehended without any knowledge of the geodesical and astronomical operations by means of which these pyramidal forms of continents have been determined. In like manner, physical geography teaches us by how many leagues p 48 the equatorial axis exceeds the polar axis of the globe, and shows us the mean equality of the flattening of the two hemispheres, without entailing on us the necessity of giving the detail of the measurement of the degrees in the meridian, or the observations on the pendulum, which have led us to know that the true figure of our globe is not exactly that of a regular ellipsoid of revolution, and that this irregularity is reflected in the corresponding irregularity of the movements of the moon.

The views of comparative geography have been specially enlarged by that admirable work, 'Erdkunde im Verhältniss zur Natur und sur Geschichte', in which Carl Ritter so ably delineates the physiognomy of our globe, and shows the influence of its external configuration on the physical phenomena on its surface, on the migrations, laws, and manners of nations, and on all the principal historical events enacted upon the face of the earth.

France possesses an immortal work, 'L'Exposition du Système du Monde', in which the author has combined the results of the highest astronomical and mathematical labors, and presented them to his readers free from all processes of demonstration. The structure of the heavens is here reduced to the simple solution of a great problem in mechanics; yet Laplace's work has never yet been accused of incompleteness and want of profundity.

The distinction between dissimilar subjects, and the separation of the general from the special, are not only conducive to the attainment of perspicuity in the composition of a physical history of the universe, but are also the means by which a character of greater elevation may be imparted to the study of nature. By the suppression of all unnecessary detail, the great masses are better seen, and the reasoning faculty is enabled to grasp all that might otherwise escape the limited range of the senses.

The exposition of general results has, it must be owned, been singularly facilitated by the happy revolution experienced since the close of the last century, in the condition of all the special sciences, more particularly of geology, chemistry, and descriptive natural history. In proportion as laws admit of more general application, and as sciences mutually enrich each other, and by their extension become connected together in more numerous and more intimate relations, the development of general truths may be given with conciseness devoid of superficiality. On being first examined, all phenomena appear to be p 49 isolated, and it is only by the result of a multiplicity of observations, combined by reason, that we are able to trace the mutual relations existing between them. If, however, in the present age, which is so strongly characterized by a brilliant course of scientific discoveries, we perceive a want of connection in the phenomena of certain sciences, we may anticipate the revelation of new facts, whose importance will probably be commensurate with the attention directed to these branches of study. Expectations of this nature may be entertained with regard to meteorology, several parts of optics, and to radiating heat, and electro-magnetism, since the admirable discoveries of Melloni and Faraday. A fertile field is here opened to discovery, although the voltaic pile has already taught us the intimate connection existing between electric, magnetic, and chemical phenomena. Who will venture to affirm that we have any precise knowledge, in the present day, of that part of the atmosphere which is not oxygen, or that thousands of gaseous substances affecting our organs may not be mixed with the nitrogen, or, finally, that we have even discovered the whole number of the forces which pervade the universe?

It is not the purpose of this essay on the physical history of the world to reduce all sensible phenomena to a small number of abstract principles, based on reason only. The physical history of the universe, whose exposition I attempt to develop, does not pretend to rise to the perilous abstractions of a purely rational science of nature, and is simply a 'physical geography, combined with a description of the regions of space and the bodies occupying them.' Devoid of the profoundness of a purely speculative philosophy, my essay on the 'Cosmos' treats of the contemplation of the universe, and is based upon a rational empiricism, that is to say, upon the results of the facts registered by science, and tested by the operations of the intellect. It is within these limits alone that the work, which I now venture to undertake, appertains to the sphere of labor to which I have devoted myself throughout the course of my long scientific career. The path of inquiry is not unknown to me, although it may be pursued by others with greater success. The unity which I seek to attain in the development of the great phenomena of the universe, is analogous to that which historical composition is capable of acquiring. All points relating to the accidental individualities, and the essential variations of the actual, whether in the form and arrangement of natural objects in the struggle of man against the elements, or of nations against nations, do not admit of being p 50 based only on a 'rational foundation' -- that is to say, of being deduced from ideas alone.

It seems to me that a like degree of empiricism attaches to the Description of the Universe and to Civil History; but in reflecting upon physical phenomena and events, and tracing their causes by the process of reason, we become more and more convinced of the truth of the ancient doctrine, that the forces inherent in matter, and those which govern the moral necessity, and in accordance with movements occurring periodically after longer or shorter intervals.

It is this necessity, this occult but permanent connection, this periodical recurrence in the progressive development of forms, phenomena, and events, which constitute 'nature', obedient to the first impulse imparted to it. Physics, as the term signifies, is limited to the explanation of the phenomena of the material world by the properties of matter. The ultimate object of the experimental sciences is, therefore, to discover laws, and to trace their progressive generalization. All that exceeds this goes beyond the province of the physical description of the universe, and appertains to a range of higher speculative views.

Emmanuel Kant, one of the few philosophers who have escaped the imputation of impiety, has defined with rare sagacity the limits of physical explanations, in his celebrated essay 'On the Theory and Structure of the Heavens', published at Konigsberg in 1755.

The study of a science that promises to lead us through the vast range of creation may be compared to a journey in a far-distant land. Before we set forth, we consider, and often with distrust, our own strength, and that of the guide we have chosen. But the apprehensions which have originated in the abundance and the difficulties attached to the subjects we would embrace, recede from view as we remember that with the increase of observations in the present day there has also arisen a more intimate knowledge of the connection existing among all phenomena. It has not unfrequently happened, that the researches made at remote distances have often and unexpectedly thrown light upon subjects which had long resisted the attempts made to explain them within the narrow limits of our own sphere of observation. Organic forms that had long remained isolated, both in the animal and vegetable kingdom, have been connected by the discovery of intermediate links or stages of transition. The geography of beings endowed p 51 with life attains completeness as we see the species, genera, and entire families belonging to one hemisphere, reflected as it were, in analogous animal and vegetable forms in the opposite hemisphere. There are, so to speak, the 'equivalents' which mutually personate and replace one another in the great series of organisms. These connecting links and stages of transition may be traced, alternately, in a deficiency or an excess of development of certain parts, in the mode of junction of distinct organs, in the differences in the balance of forces, or in a resemblance to intermediate forms which are not permanent, but merely characteristic of certain phases of normal development. Passing from the consideration of beings endowed with life to that of inorganic bodies, we find many striking illustrations of the high state of advancement to which modern geology has attained. We thus see, according to the grand views of Elie de Beaumont, how chains of mountains dividing different climates and floras and different races of men, reveal to us their 'relative age', both by the character of the sedimentary strata they have uplifted, and by the directions which they follow over the long fissures and which the earth's crust is furrowed. Relations of superposition of trachyte and of syenitic porphyry, of diorite and of serpentine, which remain in the rich platinum districts of the Oural, and on the south-western declivity of the Siberian Alti, are elucidated by the observations that have been made on the plateaux of Mexico and Antioquia, and in the unhealthy ravines of Choco. The most important facts on which the physical history of the world has been based in modern times, have not been accumulated by chance. It has at length been fully acknowledged, and the conviction is characteristic of the age, that the narratives of distant travels, too long occupied in the mere recital of hazardous adventures, can only be made a source of instruction where the traveler is acquainted with the condition of the science he would enlarge, and is guided by reason in his researches.

It is by this tendency to generalization, which is only dangerous in its abuse, that a great portion of the physical knowledge already acquired may be made the common property of all classes of society; but, in order to render the instruction impaired by these means commensurate with the importance of the subject, it is desirable to deviate as widely as possible from the imperfect compilations designated, till the close of the eighteenth century, by the inappropriate term of 'popular p 52 knowledge.' I take pleasure in persuading myself that scientific subjects may be treated of in language at once dignified, grave, and animated, and that those who are restricted within the circumscribed limits of ordinary life, and have long remained strangers to an intimate communion with nature, may thus have opened to them one of the richest sources of enjoyment, by which the mind is invigorated by the acquisition of new ideas. Communion with nature awakens within us perceptive faculties that had long lain dormant; and we thus comprehend at a single glance the influence exercised by physical discoveries on the enlargement of the sphere of intellect, and perceive how a judicious application of mechanics, chemistry, and other sciences may be made conducive to national prosperity.

A more accurate knowledge of the connection of physical phenomena will also tend to remove the prevalent error that all branches of natural science are not equally important in relation to general cultivation and industrial progress. An arbitrary distinction is frequently made between the various degrees of importance appertaining to mathematical sciences, to the study of organized beings, the knowledge of electro-magnetism, and investigations of the general properties of matter in its different conditions of molecular aggregation; and it is not uncommon presumptuously to affix a supposed stigma upon researches of this nature, by terming them "purely theoretical," forgetting , although the fact has been long attested, that in the observation of a phenomenon, which at first sight appears to be wholly isolated, may be concealed the germ of a great discovery. When Aloysio Galvani first stimulated the nervous fiber by the accidental contact of two heterogeneous metals, his contemporaries could never have anticipated that the action of the voltaic pile would discover to us, in the alkalies, metals of a silvery luster, so light as to swim on water, and eminently inflammable; or that it would become a powerful instrument of chemical analysis, and at the same time a thermoscope and a magnet. When Hygens first observed, in 1678, the phenomenon of the polarization of light, exhibited in the difference between the two rays into which a pencil of light divides itself in passing through a doubly refracting crystal, it could not have been foreseen that, a century and a half later, the great philosopher Arago would, by his discovery of 'chromatic polarization', be led to discern, by means of a small fragment of Iceland spar, whether solar light emanates from a solid body or a gaseous covering, or p 53 whether comets transmit light directly or merely by reflection.*

[Footnote] *Arago's Discoveries in the year 1811. -- Delambro's 'Histoire de l'Ast.', p. 652. (Passage already quoted.)

An equal appreciation of all branches of the mathematical, physical, and natural sciences is a special requirement of the present age, in which the material wealth and the growing prosperity of nations are principally based upon a more enlightened employment of the products and forces of nature. The most superficial glance at the present condition of Europe shows that a diminution, or even a total annihilation of national prosperity, must be the award of those states who shrink with slothful indifference from the great struggle of rival nations in the career of the industrial arts. It is with nations as with nature, which, according to a happy expression of Göthe,* "knows no pause in progress and development, and attaches her curse on all inaction."

[Footnote] *Gothe, in 'Die Aphorismen uber Naturwissenschaft.' -- 'Werke', bd. 1., s. 4

The propagation of an earnest and sound knowledge of science can therefore alone avert the dangers of which I have spoken. Man can not act upon nature, or appropriate her forces to his own use, without comprehending their full extent, and having an intimate acquaintance with the laws of the physical world. Bacon has said that, in human societies, knowledge is power. Both must rise and sink together. But the knowledge that results from the free action of thought is at once the delight and the indestructible prerogative of man; and in forming part of the wealth of mankind, it not unfrequently serves as a substitute for the natural riches, which are but sparingly scattered over the earth. Those states which take no active part in the general industrial movement, in the choice and preparation of natural substances, or in the application of mechanics and chemistry, and among whom this activity is not appreciated by all classes of society, will infallibly see their prosperity diminish in proportion as neighboring countries become strengthened and invigorated under the genial influence of arts and sciences.

As in nobler spheres of thought and sentiment, in philosophy, poetry, and the fine arts, the object at which we aim ought to be an inward one -- an ennoblement of the intellect -- so ought we likewise in our pursuit of science, to strive after a knowledge of the laws and the principles of unity that pervade the vital forces of the universe; and it is by such a course that p 54 physical studies may be made subservient to the progress of industry, which is a conquest of mind over matter. By a happy connection of causes and effects, we often see the useful linked to the beautiful and the exalted. The improvement of agriculture in the hands of freemen, and on properties of a moderate extent -- the flourishing state of the mechanical arts freed from the trammels of municipal restrictions -- the increased impetus imparted to commerce by the multiplied means of the intellectual progress of mankind, and of the amelioration of political institutions, in which this progress is reflected. The picture presented by modern history ought to convince those who are tardy in awakening to the truth of the lesson it teaches.

Nor let it be feared that the marked predilection for the study of nature, and for industrial progress, which is so characteristic of the present age, should necessarily have a tendency to retard the noble exertions of the intellect in the domains of philosophy, classical history, and antiquity, or to deprive the arts by which life is embellished of the vivifying breath of imagination. Where all the germs of civilization are developed beneath the aegis of free institutions and wise legislation, there is no cause for apprehending that any one branch of knowledge should be cultivated to the prejudice of others. All afford the state precious fruits, whether they yield nourishment to man and constitute his physical wealth, or whether, more permanent in their nature, they transmit in the works of mind the glory of nations to remotest posterity. The Spartans, notwithstanding their Doric austerity, prayed the gods to grant them "the beautiful with the good."*

[Footnote] *Pseudo-Plato, -- 'Alcib.', xi., p. 184, ed. Steph.; Plut., 'Instituta Laconica', p. 253, ed. Hatten.

I will no longer dwell upon the considerations of the influence exercised by the mathematical and physical sciences on all that appertains to the material wants of social life, for the vast extent of the course on which I am entering forbids me to insist further upon the utility of these applications. Accustomed to distant excursions, I may, perhaps, have erred in describing the path before us as more smooth and pleasant than it really is, for such is wont to be the practice of those who delight in guiding others to the summits of lofty mountains: they praise the view even when great part of the distant plains lie hidden by clouds, knowing that this half-transparent vapory vail imparts to the scene a certain charm from p 55 the power exercised by the imagination over the domain of the senses. In like manner, from the height occupied by the physical history of the world, all parts of the horizon will not appear equally clear and well defined. This indistinctness will not, however, be wholly owing to the present imperfect state of some of the sciences, but in part, likewise, to the unskillfulness of the guide who has imprudently ventured to ascend these lofty summits.

The object of this introductory notice is not, however, solely to draw attention to the importance and greatness of the physical history of the universe, for in the present day these are too well understood to be contested, but likewise to prove how, without detriment to the stability of special studies, we may be enabled to generalize our ideas by concentrating them in one common focus, and thus arrive at a point of view from which all the organisms and forces of nature may be seen as one living active whole, animated by one sole impulse. "Nature," as Schelling remarks in his poetic discourse on art, "is not an inert mass; and to him who can comprehend her vast sublimity, she reveals herself as the creative force of the universe -- before all time, eternal, ever active, she calls to life all things, whether perishable or imperishable."

By uniting, under one point of view, both the phenomena of our own globe and those presented in the regions of space, we embrace the limits of the science of the 'Cosmos', and convert the physical history of the globe into the physical history of the universe, the one term being modeled upon that of the other. This science of the Cosmos is not, however, to be regarded as a mere encyclopedic aggregation of the most important and general results that have been collected together from special branches of knowledge. These results are nothing more than the materials for a vast edifice, and their combination can not constitute the physical history of the world, whose exalted part it is to show the simultaneous action and the connecting links of the forces which pervade the universe. The distribution of organic types in different climates and at different elevations -- that is to say, the geography of plants and animals -- differs as widely from botany and descriptive zoology as geology does from mineralogy, properly so called. The physical history of the universe must not, therefore, be confounded with the 'Encyclopedias of the Natural Sciences', as they have hitherto been compiled, and whose title is as vague as their limits are ill defined. In the work before us, partial facts will be considered only in relation to the whole. p 56 The higher the point of view, the greater is the necessity for a systematic mode of treating the subject in language at once animated and picturesque.

But thought and language have ever been most intimately allied. If language, by its originality of structure and its native richness, can, in its delineations, interpret thought with grace and clearness, and if, by its happy flexibility, it can paint with vivid truthfulness the objects of the external world, it reacts at the same time upon thought, and animates it, as it were, with the breath of life. It is this mutual reaction which makes words more than mere signs and forms of thought; and the beneficent influence of a language is most strikingly manifested on its native soil, where it has sprung spontaneously from the minds of the people, whose character it embodies. Proud of a country that seeks to concentrate her strength in intellectual unity, the writer recalls with delight the advantages he has enjoyed in being permitted to express his thoughts in his native language; and truly happy is he who, in attempting to give a lucid exposition of the great phenomena of the universe, is able to draw from the depths of a language, which, through the free exercise of thought, and by the effusions of creative fancy, has for centuries past exercised so powerful an influence over the destinies of man.

This material taken from pages 56 to 78

COSMOS: A Sketch of the Physical Description of the Universe, Vol. 1 by Alexander von Humboldt

Translated by E C Otte

from the 1858 Harper & Brothers edition of Cosmos, volume 1 --------------------------------------------------

p 56

LIMITS AND METHOD OF EXPOSITION OF THE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF THE UNIVERSE.

I HAVE endeavored, in the preceding part of my work, to explain and illustrate, by various examples, how the enjoyments presented by the aspect of nature, varying as they do in the sources from when they flow, may be multiplied and ennobled by an acquaintance with the connection of phenomena and the laws by which they are regulated. It remains, then, for me to examine the spirit of the method in which the exposition of the 'physical description of the universe' should be conducted, and to indicate the limits of this science in accordance with the views I have acquired in the course of my studies and travels in various parts of the earth. I trust I may flatter myself with a hope that a treatise of this nature will justify the title I have ventured to adopt for my work, and exonerate me from the reproach of a presumption that would be doubly reprehensible in a scientific discussion.

Before entering upon the delineation of the partial phenomena p 57 which are found to be distributed in various groups, I would consider a few general questions intimately connected together, and bearing upon the nature of our knowledge of the external world and its different relations, in all epochs of history and in all phases of intellectual advancement. Under this head will be comprised the following considerations:

1. The precise limits of the physical description of the universe, considered as a distinct science.

2. A brief enumeration of the totality of natural phenomena, presented under the form of a 'general delineation of nature.'

3. The influence of the external world on the imagination and feelings, which has acted in modern times as a powerful impulse toward the study of natural science, by giving animation to the description of distant regions and to the delineation of natural scenery, as far as it is characterized by vegetable physiognomy and by the cultivation of exotic plants, and their arrangement in well-contrasted groups.

4. The history of the contemplation of nature, or the progressive development of the idea of the Cosmos, considered with reference to the historical and geographical facts that have led to the discovery of the connection of phenomena.

The higher the point of view from which natural phenomena may be considered, the more necessary it is to circumscribe the science within its just limits, and to distinguish it from all other analogous or auxiliary studies.

Physical cosmography is founded on the contemplation of all created things -- all that exists in space, whether as substances or forces -- that is, all the material beings that constitute the universe. The science which I would attempt to define presents itself, therefore, to man, as the inhabitant of the earth, under a two-fold form -- as the earth itself and the regions of space. It is with a view of showing the actual character and the independence of the study of physical cosmography, and at the same time indicating the nature of its relations to 'general physics, descriptive natural history, geology, and comparative geography', that I will pause for a few moments to consider that portion of the science of the Cosmos which concerns the earth. As the history of philosophy does not consist of a mere material enumeration of the philosophical views entertained in different ages, neither should the physical description of the universe be a simple encyclopedic compilation of the sciences we have enumerated. The difficulty of defining the limits of intimately-connected studies has been increased, because for centuries it has been customary to designate various branches p 58 of empirical knowledge by terms which admit either of too wide or too limited a definition of the ideas which they were intended to convey, and are, besides, objectionable from having had a different signification in those classical languages of antiquity from thish chey have been borrowed. The terms physiology, physics, natural history, geology and geography arose, and were commonly used, long before clear ideas were entertained of the diversity of objects embraced by these sciences, and consequently of their reciprocal limitation. Such is the influence of long habit upon language, that by one of the nations of Europe most advanced in civilization the word "physic" is applied to medicine, while in a society of justly deserved universal reputation, technical chemistry, geology and astronomy (purely experimental sciences) are comprised under the head of "Philosophical Transactions."

An attempt has often been made, and almost always in vain, to substitute new and more appropriate terms for these ancient designations, which, notwithstanding their undoubted vagueness, are now generally understood. These changes have been proposed, for the most part, by those who have occupied themselves with the general classification of the various branches of knowledge, from the first appearance of the great encyclopedia ('Margarita Philosophica') of Gregory Reisch,* prior of the Chartreuse at Freiburg, toward the close of the fifteenth century, to Lord Bacon, and from Bacon to D'Alembert; and in recent times to an eminent physicist, Andre Marie Ampere.**

[footnote] *The 'Margarita Philosophica' of Gregory Reisch, prior of the Chartreuse at Freiburg, first appeared under the following title: Aepitome omnis Philosophiæ, alias Margarita Philosophica, tractans de omni generi scibili. The Heidelberg edition (1486), and that of Strasburg (1504), both bear this title, but the first part was suppressed in the Freiburg edition of the same year, as well as in the twelve subsequent editions, which succeeded one another, at short intervals, till 1535. This work exercised a great influence on the diffusion of mathematical and physical sciences toward the beginning of the sixteenth century, and Crasles, the learned author of 'L'Aperçu Historique des Methodes en Géometrica' (1837) has shown the great importance of Reisch's 'Encyclopedia' in the history of mathematics in the Middle Ages. I have had recourse to a passage in the 'Margarita Philosophica', found only in the edition of 1513, to elucidate the important question of the relations between the statements of the geographer of Saint-Die, Hylacomilus (Martin Waldseemuller), the first who gave the name of America to the New Continent, and those of Amerigo Vespucci, Rene, King of Jerusalem and Duke of Lorraine, as also those contained in the celebrated editions of Ptolemy of 1513 and 1522. See my 'Examen Critique de la Gegraphie du Nouveau Continent, et des Progres de l'Astronomie Nautique aux 15e et 16e Siecles', t. iv., p. 99-125.

[footnote] II Ampère, 'Essai sur la Phil. des Sciences', 1834, p. 25. Whewell, 'Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences', vol. ii., p. 277. Park, 'Pantology', p. 87.

p 59 The selection of an inappropriate Greek nomenclature has perhaps been even more prejudicial to the last of these attempts than the injudicious use of binary divisions and the excessive multiplication of groups.

The physical description of the world, considering the universe as an object of the external senses, does undoubtedly require the aid of general physics and of descriptive natural history, but thecontemplation of all created things, which are linked together, and form one 'whole', animated by internal forces, given to the science we are considering a peculiar character. Phyical science considers only the general properties of bodies; it is the product of abstraction -- a generalization of perceptible phenomena; and even in the work in which were laid the first foundations of general physics, in the eight books on physics of Aristotle,* all the phenomena of nature are considered as depending upon the primitive and vital action of one sole force, from which emaate all the movements of the universe.

[footnote] * All changes in the physical world may be reduced to motion. Aristot., 'Phys. Ausc.', iii., 1 and 4, p. 200, 201. Bekker, viii., 1, 8, and 9, p. 250, 262, 265. 'De Genere et Corr.', ii., 10, p. 336. Pseudo-Aristot., 'De Mundo.' cap. vi., p. 398.

The terrestrial portion of physical cosmography, for which I would willingly retain the expressive designation of 'physical geography', treats of the distribution of magnetism in our planet with relation to its intensity and direction, but does not enter into a consideration of the laws of attraction or repulsion of the poles, or the means of eliciting either permanent or transitory electro-magnetic currents. Physical geography depicts in broad outlines the even or irregular configuration of continents, the relations of superficial area, and the distribution of continental masses in the two hemispheres, a distribution which exercises a powerful influence on the diversity of climate and the meteorological modifications of the atmosphere; this science defines the character of mountain chains, which, having been elevated at different epochs, constitute distinct systems, whether they run in parallel lines or intersect one another; determines the mean height of continents above the level of the sea, the position of the center of gravity of their volume, and the relation of the highest summits of mountain chains to the mean elevation of their crests, or to their proximity with the sea-shore. It depicts the eruptive rocks as principles of movement, acting upon the sedimentary rocks by traversing, uplifting, and inclining them at various angles; it p 60 considers volcanoes either as isolated, or ranged in single or in double series, and extending their sphere of action to various distances, either by raising long and narrow lines of rocks, or by means of circles of commotion, which expand or diminish in diameter in the course of ages. This terrestrial portion of the science of the Cosmos describes the strife of the liquid element with the solid land; it indicates the features possessed in common by all great rivers in the upper and lower portion of their course, and in their mode of bifurcation when their basins are unclosed; and shows us rivers breaking through the highest mountain chains, or following for a long time a course parallel to them, either at their base, or at a considerable distance, where the elevation of the strata of the mountain system and the direction of their inclination correspond to the configuration of the table-land. It is only the general results of comparative orography and hydrography that belong to the science whose true limits I am desirous of determining, and not the special enumeration of the greatest elevations of our globe, of active volcanoes, of rivers, and the number of their tributaries, these details falliing rather within the domain of geography, properly so called. We would here only consider phenomena in their mutual connection, and in their relations to different zones of our planet, and to its physical constitution generally. The specialties both of inorganic and organized matter, classed according to analogy of form and composition, undoubtedly constitute a most interesting branch of study, but they appertain to a sphere of ideas having no affinity with the subject of this work.

The description of different countries certainly furnishes us with the most important materials for the composition of a physical geography; but the combination of these different descriptions, ranged in series, would as little give us a true image of the general conformation of the irregular surface of our globe, as a succession of all the floras of different regions would constitute that which I designate as a 'Geography of Plants.' It is by subjecting isolated observations to the process of thought, and by combining and comparing them, that we are enabled to discover the relations existing in common between the climatic distribution of beings and the individuality of organic forms (in the morphology or descriptive natural history of plants and animals); and it is by induction that we are led to comprehend numerical laws, the proportion of natural families to the whole number of species, and to designate the latitude or geographical position of the zones in whose p 61 plains each organic form attains the maximum of its development. Considerations of this nature, by their tendency to generalization, impress a nobler character on the physical description of the globe, and enable us to understand how the aspect of the scenery, that is to say, the impression produced upon the mind by the physiognomy of the vegetation, depends upon the local distribution, the number, and the luxuriance of growth of the vegetable forms predominating in the general mass. The catalogues of organized beings to which was formerly given the pompous title of 'Systems of Nature', present us with an admirably connected arrangement by analogies of structure, either in the perfected development of these beings, or in the different phases which, in accordance with the views of a spiral evolution, affect in vegetables the leaves, bracts, calyx, corolla and fructifying organs; and in animals, with more or less symmetrical regularity, the cellular and fibrous tissues, and their perfect or but obscurely developed articulations. But these pretended systems of nature, however ingenious their mode of classification may be, do not show us organic beings as they are distributed in groups throughout our planet, according to their different relations of latitude and elevation above the level of the sea, and to climatic influences, which are owing to general and often very remote causes. The ultimate aim of physical geography is, however, as we have already said, to recognise unity in the vast diversity of phenomena, and by the exercise of thought and the combination of observations, to discern the constancy of phenomena in the midst of apparent changes. In the exposition of the terrestrial portion of the Cosmos, it will occasionally be necessary to descend to very special facts; but this will only be in order to recall the connection existing between the actual distribution of organic beings over the globe, and the laws of the ideal classification by natural families, analogy of internal organization and progressive evolution.

It follows from these discussions on the limits of the various sciences, and more particularly from the distinction which must necessarily be made between descriptive botany (morphology of vegetables) and the geography of plants, that in the physical history of the globe, the innumerable multitude of organized bodies which embellish creation are considered rather according to 'zones of habitation' or 'stations', and to differently inflected 'isothermal bands', than with reference to the principles of gradation in the development of internal organism. Notwithstanding this, botany and zoology, which constitute p 62 the descriptive natural history of all organized beings, are the fruitful sources whence we draw the materials necessary to give a solid basis to the study of the mutual relations and connection of phenomena.

We will here subjoin one important observation by way of elucidating the connection of which we have spoken. The first general glance over the vegetation of a vast extent of a continent shows us forms the most dissimilar -- Graminae and Orchideae, Coniferae and oaks, in local approximation to one another; while natural families and genera, instead of being locally associated, are dispersed as if by chance. This dispersion is, however, only apparent. The physical description of the globe teaches us that vegetation every where presents numerically constant relations in the development of its forms and types; that in the same climates, the species which are wanting in one country are replaced in a neighboring one by other species of the same family; and that this 'law of substitution', which seems to depend upon some inherent mysteries of the organism, considered with reference to its origin, maintains in contiguous regions a numerical relation between the species of various great families and the general mass of the phanerogamic plants constituting the two floras. We thus revealed in the multiplicity of the distinct organizations by which these regions are occupied; and we also discover in each zone, and diversified according to the families of plants, a slow but continuous action on the aerial ocean, depending upon the influence of light -- the primary condition of all organic vitality -- on the solid and liquid surface of our planet. It might be said, in accordance with a beautiful expression of Lavoisier, that the ancient marvel of the myth of Prometheus was incessantly renewed before our eyes.

If we extend the course which we have proposed, following in the exposition of the physical description of the earth to the sidereal part of the science of the Cosmos, the delineation of the regions of space and the bodies by which they are occupied, we shall find our task simplified in no common degree. If, according to ancient but unphilosophical forms of nomenclature, we would distinguish between 'physics', that is to say, general considerations on the essence of matter, and the forces by which it is actuated, and 'chemistry', which treats of the nature of substances, their elementary composition, and those attractions that are not determined solely by the relations of mass, we must admit that the description of the earth comprises at p 63 once 'physical' and 'chemical' actions. In addition to gravitation, which must be considered as a primitive force in nature, we observe that attractions of another kind are at work around us, both in the interior of our planet and on its surface. These forces, to which we apply the term 'chemical affinity', act upon molecules in contact, or at infinitely minute distances from one another,* and which, being differently modified by electricity, heat, condensation in porous bodies, or by the contact of an intermediate substance, animate equally the inorganic world and animal and vegetable tissues.

[footnote] * On the question already discussed by Newton, regarding the difference existing between the attraction of masses and molecular attraction, see Laplace, 'Exposition du Systeme du Monde', p. 384, and supplement to book x. of the 'Mecanique Celeste', p. 3, 4; Kant, 'Metaph. Anfangegrunde der Naturwissenschaft, Säm. Werke', 1839, bd. v., s. 309 (Metaphysical Principles of the Natural Sciences); Pectet, 'Physique', 1838, vol. i., p. 59-63.

If we except the small asteroids, which appear to us under the forms of aerolites and shooting stars, the regions of space have hitherto presented to our direct observation physical phenomena alone; and in the case of these, we know only with certainty the effects depending upon the quantitative relations of matter of the distribution of masses. The phenomena of the regions of space may consequently be considered as influenced by simple dynamical laws -- the laws of motion.

The effects that may arise from the specific difference and the hererogeneous nature of matter have not hitherto entered into our calculations of the mechanism of the heavens. The only means by which the inhabitants of our planet can enter into relation with the matter contained within the regions of space, whether existing in scattered forms or united into large spheroids, is by the phenomena of light, the propagation of the force of gravitation or the attraction of masses. The existence of a periodical action of the sun and moon on the variations of terrestrial magnetism is even at the present day extremely problematical. We have no direct experimental knowledge regarding the properties and specific qualities of the masses circulating in space, or of the matter of which they are probably composed, if we except what may be derived from the fall of aerolites or meteoric stones, which, as we have already observed, enter within the limits of our terrestrial sphere. It will be sufficient here to remark, that the direction and the excessive velocity of projection (a velocity wholly planetary) manifested by these masses, render it more than probable that p 64 they are small celestial bodies, which, being attracted by our planet, are made to deviate from their original course, and thus reach the earth enveloped in vapors, and in a high state of actual incandescence. The familiar aspect of these asteroids, and the analogies which they present with the minerals composing the earth's crust, undoubtedly afford ample grounds for surprise,* but, in my opinion, the only conclusion to be drawn from these facts is that, in general, planets and other sidereal masses, which by the influence of a central body, have been agglomerated into rings of vapor, and subsequently into spheroids, being integrant parts of the same system, and having one common origin, may likewise be composed of substances chemically identical.

[footnote] I[The analysis of an aerolite which fell a few years since in Maryland, United States, and was examined by Professor Silliman, of New Haven, Connecticut, gave the following results: Oxyd of iron, 24; oxyd of nickel, 1.25; silica, with earthy matter, 3.46; sulphur, a trace - 28.71. Dr. Mantell's 'Wonders of Geology', 1848, vol. i., p. 51.] -- 'Tr.'

Again, experiments with the pendulum, particularly those prosecuted with such rare precision by Bessel, confirm the Newtonian axiom, that bodies the most heterogeneous in their nature (as water, gold, quartz, granular limestone, and different masses of aerolites) experience a perfectly similar degree of acceleration from the attraction of the earth. To the experiments of the pendulum may be added the proofs furnished by purely astronomical observations. The almost perfect identity of the mass of Jupiter, deduced from the influence exercised by this stupendous planet on its own satellites, on Enck's comet of short period, and on the small planets Vesta, Juno, Ceres, and Pallas, indicates with equal certainty that within the limits of actual observation attraction is determined solely by the quantity of matter.*

[footnote] *Poisson, 'Connaissances des Temps pour l'Anne' 1836, p. 64-66. Bessel, Poggendorf's 'Annalen', bd. xxv., s. 417. Encke, 'Abhandlungen der Berliner Academie' (Trans. of the Berlin Academy), 1826, s. 257. Mitscherlich, 'Lehrbuch der Chemie' (Manual of Chemistry), 1837 bd. i. s. 352.

This absence of any perceptible difference in the nature of matter, alike proved by direct observation and theoretical deductions, imparts a high degree of simplicity to the mechanism of the heavens. The immeasurable extent of the regions of space being subjected to laws of motion alone, the sidereal portion of the science of the Cosmos is based on the pure and abundant source of mathematical astronomy, as is the terrestrial portion on physics, chemistry, and organic morphology; but the domain of these three last-named sciences embraces p 65 the consideration of phenomena which are so complicated and have, up to the present time, been found so little susceptible of the application of rigorous method, that the physical science of the earth can not boast of the same certainty and simplicity in the exposition of facts and their mutual connection which characterize the celestial portion of the Cosmos. It is not improbable that the difference to which we allude may furnish an explanation of the cause which, in the earliest ages of intellectual culture among the Greeks, directed the natural philosophy of the Pythagoreans with more ardor to the heavenly bodies and the regions of space than to the earth and its productions, and how through Philolaus, and subsequently through the analogous views of Aristarchus of Samos, and of Seleucus of Erythrea, this science has been made more conducive to the attainment of a knowledge of the true system of the world than the natural philosophy of the Ionian school could ever be to the physical history of the earth. Giving but little attention to the properties and specific differences of matter filling space, the great Italian school, in its Doric gravity, turned by preference toward all that relates to measure, to the form of bodies, and to the number and distances of the planets,* while the Ionian physicists directed their attention to the qualities of matter, its true or supposed metamorphoses, and to relations of origin.

[footnote] *Compare Otfried Muller's 'Dorien', bd. i., s. 365.

It was reserved for the powerful genius of Aristotle, alike profoundly speculative and practical to sound with equal success the depths of abstraction and the inexhaustible resources of vital activity pervading the material world.

Several highly distinguished treatises on physical geography are prefaced by an introduction, whose purely astronomical sections are directed to the consideration of the earth in its planetary dependence, and as constituting a part of that great system which is animated by one central body, the sun. This course is diametrically opposed to the one which I propose following. In order adequately to estimate the dignity of the Cosmos, it is requisite that the sidereal portion, termed by Kant the 'natural history of the heavens', should not be made subordinate to the terrestrial. In the science of the Cosmos, according to the expression of Aristarchus of Samos, the pioneer of the Copernican system, the sun, with its satellites, was nothing more than one of the innumerable stars by which space is occupied. The physical history of the world must, therefore, begin with the description of the heavenly bodies, p 66 and with a geographical sketch of the universe, or, I would rather say, a true 'map of th world', such as was traced by the bold hand of the elder Herschel. If, notwithstanding the smallness of our planet, the most considerable space and the most attentive consideration be here afforded to that which exclusively concerns it, this arises solely from the disproportion in the extent of our knowledge of that which is accessible and of that which is closed to our observation. This subordination of the celestial to the terrestrial portion is met with in the great work of Bernard Varenius,* which appeared in the middle of the seventeenth century.

[Footnote] *'Geographia Generalis in qua affectiones generales telluris explicantur.' The oldest Elzevir edition bears date 1650, the second 1672, and the third 1681; these were published at Cambridge, under Newton's supervision. This excellent work by Varenius is, in the true sense of the words, a physical description of the earth. Since the work 'Historia Natural de las Indias', 1590, in which the Jesuit Joseph de Acosta sketched in so masterly a manner the delineation of the New Continent, questions relating to the physical history of the earth have never been considered with such admirable generality. Acosta is richer in original observations, while Varenius embraces a wider circle of ideas, since his sojourn in Holland, which was at that period the center of vast commercial relations, had brought him in contact with a great number of well-iinformed travelers. 'Generalis sive Universalis Geographia dictur quae tellurem in genere considerat atque affectiones explicat, non habita particularium regionum ratione.' The general description of the earth by Varenius ('Pars Absoluta', cap. i.-xxii.) may be considered as a treatise of comparative geography, if we adopt the term used by the author himself ('Geographia Comparativa', cap. xxxiii.-xl.), although this must be understood in a limited acceptation. We may cite the following among the most remarkable passages of this book: the enumeration of the systems of mountains; the examination of the relations existing between their directions and the general form of continents (p. 66, 76, ed. Cantab., 1681); a list of extinct volcanoes, and such as were still in a state of activity; the discussion of facts relative to the general distribution of islands and archipelagoes (p. 220); the depth of the ocean relatively to the height of neighboring coasts (p. 103); the uniformity of level observed in all open seas (p. 97); the dependence of currents on the prevailing winds; the unequal saltness of the sea; the configuration of shores (p. 139); the direction of the winds as the result of differences of temperature, etc. We may further instance the remarkable considerations of Varenius regarding the equinoctial current from east to west, to which he attributes the origin of the Gulf Stream, beginning at Cape St. Augustin, and issuing forth between Cuba and Florida (p. 140). Nothing can be more accurate than his description of the current which skirts the western coast of Africa, between Cape Verde and the island of Fernando Po in the Gulf of Guinea. Varenius explains the formation of sporadic islands by supposing them to be "the raised bottom of the sea:" 'magna spirituum inclusorum vi, sicut aliquando montes e terra protusos esse quidam scribunt' (p. 225). The edition published by Newton in 1681 ('auctior et emendatior' unfortunately contains no additions from this great authority; and there is not even mention made of the polar compression of the globe, although the experiments on the pendulum by Richer had been made nine years prior to the appearance of the Cambridge edition. Newton's 'Principia Mathematica Philosophie Naturalis' were not communicated in manuscript to the Royal Society until April, 1686. Much uncertainty seems to prevail regarding the birth-place of Varenius. Jaecher says it was England, while, according to 'La Biographie Universelle' (b.xlvii., p. 495), he is stated to have been born at Amsterdam; but it would appear, from the dedicatory address to the burgomaster of that city (see his 'Geographia Comparativa', that both suppositions are false. Varenius expressly says that he had sought refuge in Amsterdam, "because his native city had been burned and completely destroyed during a long war," words which appear to apply to the north of Germany, and to the devastations of the Thirty Years' War. In his dedication of another work, 'Descriptio regni Japoniae' (Amst., 1649), to the Senate of Hamburgh, Varenius says that he prosecuted his elementary mathematical studies in the gymnasium of that city. There is, therefore, every reason to believe that this admirable geographer was a native of Germany, and was probably born at Luneburg ('Witten. Mem. Theol.', 1685, p. 2142; Zedler, 'Universal Lexicon', vol. xlvi., 1745, p. 187).

p 67 He was the first to distinguish between 'general and special geography', the former of which he subdivides into an 'absolute', or, properly speaking, 'terrestrial' part, and a 'relative or planetary' portion, according to the mode of considering our planet either with reference to its surface in its different zones, or to its relations to the sun and moon. It redounds to the glory of Varenius that his work on 'General and Comparative Geography' should in so high a degree have arrested the attention of Newton. The imperfect state of many of the auxiliary sciences from which this writer was obliged to draw his materials prevented his work from corresponding to the greatness of the design, and it was reserved for the present age, and for my own country, to see the delineation of comparative geography, drawn in its full extent, and in all its relations with the history of man, by the skillful hand of Carl Ritter.*

[Footnote] *Carl Ritter's 'Erdkunde im Verhältniss zur Natur und zur Geschichte des Menschen, oder allgemeine vergleichende Geographie' (Geography in relation to Nature and the History of Man, or general Comparative Geography).

The enumeration of the most important results of the astronomical and physical sciences which in the history of the Cosmos radiate toward one common focus, may perhaps, to a certain degree, justify the designation I have given to my work, and, considered within the circumscribed limits I have proposed to myself, the undertaking may be esteemed less adventurous than the title. The introduction of new terms, especially with reference to the general results of a science which p 68 ought to be accessible to all, has always been greatly in opposition to my own practice; and whenever I have enlarged upon the established nomenclature, it has only been in the specialities of descriptive botany and zoology, where the introduction of hitherto unknown objects rendered new names necessary. The denominations of physical descriptions of the universe, or physical cosmography, which I use indiscriminantely, have been modeled upon those of 'physical descriptions of the earth', that is to say, 'physical geography', terms that have long been in common use. Descartes, whose genius was one of the most powerful manifested in any age, has left us a few fragments of a great work, which he intended publishing under the title of 'Monde', and for which he had prepared hiimself by special studies, including even that of human anatomy. The uncommon, but definite expression of the 'science of the Cosmos' recalls to the mind of the inhabitant of the earth that we are treating of a more widely-extended horizon -- of the assemblage of all things with which space is filled, from the remotest nebulae to the climatic distribution of those delicate tissues of vegetable matter which spread a variegated covering over the surface of our rocks.

The influence of narrow-minded views peculiar to the earlier ages of civilization led in all languages to a confusion of ideas in the synonymic use of the words 'earth' and 'world', while the common expressions 'voyages round the world', 'map of the world', and 'new world', afford further illustrations of the same confusion. The more noble and precisely-defined expressions of 'system of the world', 'the planetary world', and 'creation and age of the world', relate either to the totality of the substances by which space is filled, or to the origin of the whole universe.

It was natural that, in the midst of the extreme variability of phenomena presented by the surface of our globe, and the aerial ocean by which it is surrounded, man should have been impressed by the aspect of the vault of heaven, and the uniform and regular movements of the sun and planets. Thus the word Cosmos, which primitively, in the Homeric ages, indicated an idea of order and harmony, was subsequently adopted in scientific language, where it was gradually applied to the order observed in the movements of the heavenly bodies, to the whole universe, and then finally to the world in which this harmony was reflected to us. According to the assertion of Philolaus, whose fragmentary works have been so ably commented upon by Böckh, and conformably to the general testimony p 69 of antiquity, Pythagoras was the first who used the word Cosmos to designate the order that reigns in the universe, or entire world.*

[footnote] *[Greek word], in the most ancient, and at the same time most precise, definition of the word, signified 'ornament' (as an adornment for a man, a woman, or a horse); taken figuratively for [Greek word], it implied the order or adornment of a discourse. According to the testimony of all the ancients, it was Pythagoras who first used the word to designate the order in the universe, and the universe itself. Pythagoras left no writings; but ancient attestation to the truth of this assertion is to be found in several passages of the fragmentary works of Philolaus (Stob., 'Eclog.', p. 360 and 460, Heeren), p. 62, 90, in Bockh's German edition. I do not, according to the example of Nake, cite Timof Locris, since his authenticity is doubtful. Plutarch ('De plac. Phil.', ii., I) says, in the most express manner, that Pythatoras gave the name of Cosmos to the universe on account of the order which reigned throughout it; so likewise does Galen ('Hist. Phil.', p. 429). This word, together with its novel signification, passed from the schools of philosophy into the language of poets and prose writers. Plato designates the heavenly bodies by the name of 'Uranos', but the order pervading the regions of space he too terms the Cosmos, and in his 'Timus' (p. 30 a.) he says 'that the world is an animal endowed with a soul' [Greek words]. Compare Anaxag. Claz., ed. Schaubach, p. III, and Plut. ('De plac. Phil.', in Aristotle ('De Caelo', I, 9), 'Cosmos' signifies "the universe and the order pervading it," but it is likewise considered as divided in space into two parts -- the sublunary world, and the world above the moon. ('Meteor.', I., w, 1, and I., 3, 13, p. 339, 'a', and 340, 'b', Bekk.) The definition of Cosmos, which I have already cited is taken from Pseudo-Aristoteles 'de Mundo', cap. ii. (p. 391); the passage referred to is as follows: [Greek words]. Most of the passages occurring in Greek writers on the word 'Cosmos' may be found collected together in the controversy between Richard Bentley and Charles Boyle ('Opuscula Philologica', 1781, p. 347, 445; 'Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris', 1817, p. 254); on the historical existence of Zaleucus, legislator of Leucris, in Nake's excellent work, 'Sched. Crit.', 1812, p. 9, 15; and, finally in Theophilus Schmidt, 'ad Cleom. Cycl. Theor.', met. I., 1, p. ix., 1 and 99. Taken in a more limited sense, the word Cosmos is also used in the plural (Plut., 1, 5), either to designate the stars (Stob., 1, p. 514; Plut., 11, 13) or the innumerable systems scattered like islands through the immensity of space, and each composed of a sun and a moon. (Anax. Claz., 'Fragm.', p. 89, 93, 120; Brandis, 'Gesch. der Griechisch-Römischen Philosophie', b. i., s. 252 (History of the Greco-Roman Philosophy). Each of these groups forming thus a 'Cosmos', the universe, [Greek words], the word must be understood in a wider sense (Plut., ii., 1). It was not until long after the time of the Ptolemies that the word was applied to the earth. Bockh has made known inscriptions in praise of Trajan and Adrian ('Corpus Inscr. Graec.', I, n. 334 and 1036), in which [Greek word] occurs for [Greek word] in the same manner as we still use the term 'world' to signify the earth alone. We have already mentioned the singular division of the regions of space p 70 [Footnote continues] into three parts, the 'Olympus, Cosmos' and 'Ouranos' (Stob., i., p. 488; Philolaus, p. 95, 303); this division applies to the different regions surrounding that mysterious focus of the universe, the [Greek words] of the Pythagoreans. In the fragmentary passage in which this division is found, the term [Greek word] designates the innermost region, situated between the moon and earth; this is the domain of changing things. The middle region, where the planets circulate in an invariable and harmonious order, is, in accordance with the special conceptions entertained of the universe, exclusively termed 'Cosmos', while the word 'Olympus' is used to express the exterior or igneous region. Bopp, the profound philologist, has remarked that we may deduce, as Pott has done, 'Etymol. Forschungen', th.i., s. 39 and 252 ('Etymol. Researches'), the word [Greek word] from the Sanscrit root 'sud', 'purificari', by assuming two conditions; first that the Greek letter 'kappa' in [Greek word] comes from the palatial 'epsilon', which Bopp represents by 's' and Pott by 'ç' (in the same manner as [Greek word], 'decem, taihun' in Gothic, comes from the Indian word 'dasan'), and, next, that the Indian 'd'' corresponds, as a general rule, with the Greek 'theta' ('Vergleichende Grammatik' 99 -- Comparative Grammar), which shows the relation of [Greek word] (for [Greek word]) with the Sanscrit root 'sud', whence is also derived [Greek word]. Another Indian term for the world is 'gagat' (pronounced 'dschagat'), which is, properly speaking the present participle of the verb 'gagami' (I go), the root of which is 'ga.' In restricting ourselves to the circle of Hellenic etymologies, we find ('Etymol. M.', p. 532, 12) that [Greek word] is intimately associated with [Greek word] or rather with [Greek word], whence we have [Greek word] or [Greek word] Welcker ('Eine Kretische Col in Theben', s. 23 -- A Cretan Colony in Thebes) combines with this the name [Greek word] , as in Hesychius [Greek word] signifies a Cretan suit of arms. When the scientific language of Greece was introduced among the Romans, the word 'mundus', which at first had only the primary meaning of [Greek word] (female ornament), was applied to designate the entire universe. Ennius seems to have been the first who ventured upon this innovation. In one of the fragments of this poet, preserved by Macrobius, on the occasion of his quarrel with Virgil, we find the word used in its novel mode of acceptation: "Mundus caeli vastus constitit silentio" (Sat., vi., 2). Cicero also says, "Quem nos lucentem mundum vocamus" (Timæus, 'S.de univer.', cap. x.) The Sanscrit root 'mand' from which Pott derives the Latin 'mundus' ('Etym. Forsch.', th. i., s. 240), combines the double signification of shining and adorning. 'Loka' designates in Sanscrit the world and people in general, in the same manner as the French word 'monde', and is derived according to Bopp, from 'lok' (to see and shine); it is the same with the Slavonic root 'swjet', which means both 'light' and 'world.' (Grimm, 'Deutsche Gramm.', b. iii., s. 394 -- German Grammar.) The word 'welt', which the Germans make use of at the present day, and which was 'weralt' in old German, 'worold' in old Saxon, and 'weruld' in Anglo-Saxon, was, according to James Grimm's interpretation, a period of time, an age ('saeculum') rather than a term used for the world in space. The Etruscans figured to themselves 'mundus' as an inverted dome, symmetrically opposed to the celestial vault (Otfried Muller's 'Etrusken', th. ii., s. 96, etc.). Taken in a still more limited sense, the word appears to have signified among the Goths the terrestrial surface girded by seas ('marei, meri',) the 'merigard', literally, 'garden of seas.'

From the Italian school of philosophy, the expression passed, in this signification, into the language of those early poets p 71 of nature, Parmenides and Empedocles, and from thence into the works of prose writers. We will not here enter into a discussion of the manner in which, according to the Pythagorean views, Philolaus distinguishes between Olympus, Uranus, or the heavens, and Cosmos, or how the same word, used in a plural sense, could be applied to certain heavenly bodies (the planets) revolving round one central focus of the world, or to groups of stars. In this work I use the word Cosmos in conformity with the Hellenic usage of the term subsequently to the time of Pythagorus, and in accordance with the precise definition given of it in the treatise entitled 'De Mundo', which was long erroneously attributed to Aristotle. It is the assemblage of all things in heaven and earth, the universality of created things constituting the perceptible world. If scientific terms had not long been diverted from their true verbal signification, the present work ought rather to have borne the title of 'Cosmography', divided into 'Uranography' and 'Geography.' The Romans, in their feeble essays on philosophy, imitated the Greeks by applying to the universe the term 'mundus', which, in its primary meaning, indicated nothing more than ornament, and did not even imply order or regularity in the disposition of parts. It is probable that the introduction into the language of Latium of this technical term as an equivalent for Cosmos, in its double signification, is due to Ennius,* who was a follower of the Italian school, and the translator of the writings of Epicharmus and some of his pupils on the Pythagorean philosophy.

[footnote] *See, on Ennius, the ingenious researches of Leopold Krahner, in his 'Grundlinien zur Geschichte des Verfalls der Romischen Staats-Reigion', 1837, s. 41-45 (Outlines of the History of the Decay of the Established Religion among the Romans). In all probability, Ennius did not quote from writings of Epicharmus himself, but from poems composed in the name of that philosopher, and in accordance with his views.

We would first distinguish between the physical 'history' and the physical 'description' of the world. The former, conceived in the most general sense of the word, ought, if materials for writing it existed, to trace the variations experienced by the universe in the course of ages from the new stars which have suddenly appeared and disappeared in the vault of heaven, from nebulæ dissolving or condensing -- to the first stratum of cryptogamic vegetation on the still imperfectly cooled surface of the earth, or on a reef of coral uplifted from the depths of ocean. 'The physical description of the world' presents a picture of all that exists in space -- of the siimultaneous action of p 72 natural forces, together with the phenomena which they produce.

But if we would correctly comprehend nature, we must not entirely or absolutely separate the consideration of the present state of things from that of the successive phases through which they have passed. We can not form a just conception of their nature without looking back on the mode of their formation. It is not organic matter alone that is continually undergoing change, and being dissolved to form new combinations. The globe itself reveals at every phase of its existence the mystery of its former conditions.

We can not survey the crust of our planet without recognizing the traces of the prior existence and destruction of an organic world. The sedimentary rocks present a succession of organic forms, associated in groups, which have successively displaced and succeeded each other. The different super-imposed strata thus display to us the faunas and floras of different epochs. In this sense the description of nature is intimately connected with its history; and the geologist, who is guided by the connection existing among the facts observed, can not form a conception of the present without pursuing, through countless ages, the history of the past. In tracing the physical delineation of the globe, we behold the present and the past reciprocally incorporated, as it were, with one another; for the domain of nature is like that of languages, in which etymological research reveals a successive development, by showing us the primary condition of an idiom reflected in the forms of speech in use at the present day. The study of the material world renders this reflection of the past peculiarly manifest, by displaying in the process of formation rocks of eruption and sedimentary strata similar to those of former ages. If I may be allowed to borrow a striking illustration from the geological relations by which the physiognomy of a country is determined, I would say that domes of trachyte, cones of basalt, lava streams ('coules')of amygdaloid with elongated and parallel pores, and white deposits of pumice, intermixed with black scoriae, animate the scenery by the associations of the past which they awaken, acting upon the imagination of the enlightened observer like traditional records of an earlier world. Their form is their history.

The sense in which the Greeks and Romans originally employed the word 'history' proves that they too were intimately convinced that, to form a complete idea of the present state of the universe, it was necessary to consider it in its successive p 73 phases. It is not, however, in the definition given by Valerius Flaccus,* but in the zoological writings of Aristotle, that the word 'history' presents itself as an exposition of the results of experience and observation.

[Footnote] *Aul. Gell., 'Nect. Att.', v., 18.

The physical description of the word by Pliny the elder bears the title of 'Natural History', while in the letters of his nephew it is designated by the nobler term of 'History of Nature.' The earlier Greek historians did not separate the description of countries from the narrative of events of which they had been the theater. With these writers, physical geography and history were long intimately associated, and remained simply but elegantly blended until the period of the development of political interests, when the agitation in which the lives of men were passed caused the geographical portion to be banished from the history of nations, and raised into an independent science.

It remains to be considered whether by the operation of thought, we may hope to reduce the immense diversity of phenomena comprised by the Cosmos to the unity of a principle, and the evidence afforded by rational truths. In the present state of empirical knowledge, we can scarcely flatter ourselves with such a hope. Experimental sciences, based on the observation of the external world, can not aspire to completeness; the nature of things, and the imperfection of our organs, are alike opposed to it. We shall never succeed in exhausting the immeasurable riches of nature; and no generation of men will ever have cause to boast of having comprehended the total aggregation of phenomena. It is only by distributing them into groups that we have been able, in the case of a few, to discover the empire of certain natural laws, grand and simple as nature itself. The extent of this empire will no doubt increase in proportion as physical sciences are more perfectly developed. Striking proofs of this advancement have been made manifest in our own day, in the phenomena of electro-magnetism, the propagation of luminous waves and radiating heat. In the same manner, the fruitful doctrine of evolution shows us how, in organic development, all that is formed is sketched out beforehand, and how the tissues of vegetable and animal matter uniformly arise from the multiplication and transformation of cells.

The generalization of laws, which, being at first bounded by narrow limits, had been applied solely to isolated groups of phenomena, acquires in time more marked gradations, and gains in extent and certainty as long as the process of reasoning p 74 is applied strictly to analogous phenomena; but as soon as dynamical views prove insufficient where the specific properties and heterogeneous nature of matter come into play; it is to be feared that, by persisting in the pursuit of laws, we may find our course suddenly arrested by an impassible chasm. The principle of unity is lost sight of, and the guiding clew is rent asunder whenever any specific and peculiar kind of action manifests itself amid the active forces of nature. The law of equivalents and the numerical proportions of composition, so happily recognized by modern chemists, and proclaimed under the ancient form of atomic symbols, still remains isolated and independent of mathematicl laws of motion and gravitation.

Those productions of nature which are objects of direct observation may be logically distributed in classes, orders, and families. This form of distribution undoubtedly sheds some light on descriptive natural history, but the study of organized bodies, considered in their linear connection, although it may impart a greater degree of unity and simplicity to the distribution of groups, can not rise to the height of a classification based on one sole principle of composition and internal organization. As different gradations are presented by the laws of nature according to the extent of the horizon, or the limits of the phenomena to be considered, so there are likewise differently graduated phases in the investigation of the external world. Empiricism originates in isolated views, which are subsequently grouped according to their analogy or dissimilarity. To direct observation succeeds, although long afterward, the wish to prosecute experiments; that is to say, to evoke phenomena under different determined conditions. The rational experimentalist does not proceed at hazard, but acts under the guidance of hypotheses, founded on a half indistinct and more or less just intuition of the connection existing among natural objects or forces. That which has been conquered by observation or by means of experiments, leads, by analysis and induction, to the discovery of empirical laws. These are the phases in human intellect that have marked the different epochs in the life of nations, and by means of which that great mass of facts has been accumulated which constitutes at the present day the solid basis of the natural sciences.

Two forms of abstraction conjointly regulate our knowledge, namely, relations of 'quantity', comprising ideas of number and size, and relations of 'quality', embracing the consideration of the specific properties and the heterogeneous nature p 75 of matter. The former, as being more accessible to the exercise of thought, appertains to mathematics; the latter, from the apparent mysteries and greater difficulties, falls under the domain of the chemical sciences. In order to submit phenomena to calculation, recourse is had to a hypothetical construction of matter by a combination of molecules and atoms, whose number, form, position, and polarity determine, modify, or vary phenomena.

The mythical ideas long entertained of the imponderable substances and vital forces peculiar to each mode of organization, have complicated our views generally, and shed an uncertain light on the path we ought to pursue.

The most various forms of intuition have thus, age after age, aided in augmenting the prodigious mass of empirical knowledge, which, in our own day has been enlarged with ever-increasing rapidity. The investigating spirit of man strives from time to time, with varying success, to break through those ancient forms and symbols invented, to subject rebellious matter to rules of mechanical construction.

We are still very far from the time when it will be possible for us to reduce, by the operation of thought, all that we perceive by the senses, to the unity of a rational principle. It may even be doubted if such a victory could ever be achieved in the field of natural philosophy. The complication of phenomena, and of the vast extent of the Cosmos, would seem to oppose such a result; but even a partial solution of the problem -- the tendency toward a comprehension of the phenomena of the universe -- will not the less remain the eternal and sublime aim of every investigation of nature.

In conformity with the character of my former writings, as well as with the labors in which I have been engaged during my scientific career, in measurements, experiments, and the investigation of facts, I limit myself to the domain of empirical ideas.

The exposition of mutually connected facts does not exclude the classification of phenomena according to their rational connection, the generalization of many specialities in the great mass of observations, or the attempt to discover laws. Conceptions of the universe solely based upon reason, and the principles of speculative philosophy, would no doubt assign a still more exalted aim to the science of the Cosmos. I am far from blaming the efforts of others solely because their success has hitherto remained very doubtful. Contrary to the wishes and counsel of of those profound and powerful thinkers who p 76 have given new life to speculations which were already familiar to the ancients, systems of natural philosophy have in our own country for some time past turned aside the minds of men from the graver study of mathematical and physical sciences. The abuse of better powers, which has led many of our noble but ill-judging youth into the saturnalia of a purely ideal science of nature, has been signalized by the intoxication of pretended conquests, by a novel and fantastically symbolical phraseology, and by a predilection for the formulae of a scholastic rationalism, more contracted in its views than any known to the Middle Ages. I use the expression "abuse of better powers," because superior intellects devoted to philosophical pursuits and experimental sciences have remained strangers to these saturnalia. The results yielded by an earnest investigation in the path of experiment can not be at variance with a true philosophy of nature. If there be any contradiction, the fault must lie either in the unsoundness of speculation, or in the exaggerated pretensions of empiricism, which thinks that more is proved by experiment than is actually derivable from it.

External nature may be opposed to the intellectual world, as if the latter were not comprised within the limits of the former, or nature may be opposed to art when the latter is defined as a manifestation of the intellectual power of man; but these contrasts, which we find reflected in the most cultivated languages, must not lead us to separate the sphere of nature from that of mind, since such a separation would reduce the physical science of the world to a mere aggregation of empirical specialities. Science does not present itself to man until mind conquers matter in striving to subject the result of experimental investigation to rational combinations. Science is the labor of mind applied to nature, but the external world has no real existence for us beyond the image reflected within ourselves through the medium of the senses. As intelligence and forms of speech, thought and its verbal symbols, are united by secret and indissoluble links, so does the external world blend almost unconsciously to ourselves with our ideas and feelings. "External phenomena," says Hegel, in his 'Philosophy of History', "are in some degree translated in our inner representations." The objective world, conceived and reflected within us by thought, is subjected to the eternal and necessary conditions of our intellectual being. The activity of the mind exercises itself on the elements furnished to it by the perceptions of the senses. Thus, in the p 77 early ages of mankind, there manifests itself in the simple intuition of natural facts, and in the efforts made to comprehend them, the germ of the philosophy of nature. These ideal tendencies vary, and are more or less powerful, according to the individual characteristics and moral dispositions of nations, and to the degrees of their mental culture, whether attained amid scenes of nature that excite or chill the imagination.

History has preserved the record of the numerous attempts that have been made to form a rational conception of the whole world of phenomena, and to recognize in the universe the action of one sole active force by which matter is penetrated, transformed, and animated. These attempts are traced in classical antiquity in those treatises on the principles of things which emanated from the Ionian school, and in which all the phenomena of nature were subjected to hazardous speculations, based upon a small number of observations. By degrees, as the influence of great historical events has favored the development of every branch of science supported by observation, that ardor has cooled which formerly led men to seek the essential nature and connection of things by ideal construction and in purely rational principles. In recent times, the mathematical portion of natural philosophy has been most remarkably and admirably enlarged. The method and the instrument (analysis) have been simultaneously perfected. That which has been acquired by means so different -- by the ingenious application of atomic suppositions, by the more general and intimate study of phenomena, and by the improved construction of new apparatus -- is the common property of mankind, and shouldnot, in our opinion, now, more than in ancient times, be withdrawn from the free exercise of speculative thought.

It can not be denied that in this process of thought, the results of experience have had to contend with many disadvantages; we must not, therefore, be surprised if, in the perpetual vicissitude of theoretical views, as is ingeniously expressed by the author of 'Giordano Bruno', "most men see nothing in philosophy but a succession of passing meteors, while even the grander forms in which she has revealed herself share the fate of comets, bodies that do not rank in popular opinion among the eternal and permanent works of nature, p 78 but are regarded as mere fugitive apparitions of igncor vapor."

[Footnote] *Schelling's Bruno, 'eber das Gottliche und Naturaliche Princip. der Dinge', 181 (Bruno, on the 'Divine and Natural Principle of Things')

We would here remark that the abuse of thought, and the false track it too often pursues, ought not to sanction an opinion derogatory to the intellect, which would imply that the domain of mind is essentially a world of vague fantastic illusions, and that the treasures accumulated by laborious observations in philosophy are powers hostile to its own empire. It does not become the spirit which characterizes the present age distrustfully to reject every generalization of views and every attempt to examine into the nature of things by the process of reason and induction. It would be a denial of the dignity of human nature and the relative importance of the faculties with which we are endowed, were we to condemn at one time austere reason engaged in investigating causes and their natural connections, and at another that exercise of the imagination which prompts and excites discoveries by its creative powers.

This material taken from pages 79 to 111

COSMOS: A Sketch of the Physical Description of the Universe, Vol. 1 by Alexander von Humboldt

Translated by E C Otte

from the 1858 Harper & Brothers edition of Cosmos, volume 1 --------------------------------------------------

p 79

COSMOS.

DELINEATION OF NATURE. GENERAL REVIEW OF NATURAL PHENOMENA.

WHEN the human mind first attempts to subject to its control the world of physical phenomena, and strives by meditative contemplation to penetrate the rich luxuriance of living nature, and the mingled web of free and restricted natural forces, man feels himself raised to a height from whence, as he embraces the vast horizon, individual things blend together in varied groups, and appear as if shrouded in a vapory vail. These figurative expressions are used in order to illustrate the point of view from whence we would consider the universe both in its celestial and terrestrial sphere. I am not insensible of the boldness of such an undertaking. Among all the forms of exposition to which these pages are devoted, there is none more difficult than the general delineation of nature, which we purpose sketching, since we must not allow ourselves to be overpowered by a sense of the stupendous richness and variety of the forms presented to us, but must dwell only on the consideration of masses either possessing actual magnitude, or borrowing its semblance from the associations awakened within the subjective sphere of ideas. It is by a separation and classification of phenomena by an intuitive insight into the play of obscure forces, and by animated expressions, in which the perceptible spectacle is reflected with vivid truthfulness, that we may hope to comprehend and describe the 'universal all' [Greek words] in a manner worthy of the dignity of the word 'Cosmos' in its signification of 'universe, order of the world', and 'adornment' of this universal order. May the immeasurable diversity of phenomena which crowd into the picture of nature in no way detract from that harmonious impression of rest and unity which is the ultimate object of every literary or purely artistical composition.

Beginning with the depths of space and the regions of remotest nebulae, we will gradually descend through the starry zone to which our solar system belongs, to our own terrestrial spheroid, circled by air and ocean, there to direct our attention p 80 to its form, temperature, and magnetic tension, and to consider the fullness of organic life unfolding itself upon its surface beneath the vivifying influence of light. In this manner a picture of the world may, with a few strokes, be made to include the realms of infinity no less than the minute microscopic animal and vegetable organisms which exist in standing waters and on the weather-beaten surface of our rocks. All that can be perceived by the senses, and all that has been accumulated up to the present day by an attentive and variously directed study of nature, constitute the materials from which this representation is to be drawn, whose character is an evidence of its fidelity and truth. But the descriptive picture of nature which we purpose drawing must not enter too fully into detail, since a minute enumeration of all vital forms, natural objects, and processes is not requisite to the completeness of the undertaking. The delineator of nature must resist the tendency toward endless division, in order to avoid the dangers presented by the very abundance of our empirical knowledge. A considerable portion of the qualitative properties of matter -- or, to speak more in accordance with the language of natural philosophy, of the qualitative expression of forces -- is doubtlessly still unknown to us, and the attempt perfectly to represent unity in diversity must therefore necessarily prove unsuccessful. Thus, besides the pleasure derived and tinged with a shade of sadness, an unsatisfied longing for something beyond the present -- a striving toward regions yet unknown and unopened. Such a sense of longing binds still faster the links which, in accordance with the supreme laws of our being, connect the material with the ideal world, and animates the mysterious relation existing between that which the mind receives from without, and that which it reflects from its own depths to the external world. If, then, nature (understanding by the term all natural objects and phenomena) be illimitable in extent and contents, it likewise presents itself to the human intellect as a problem which can not be grasped, and whose solution is impossible, since it requires a knowledge of the combined action of all natural forces. Such an acknowledgement is due where the actual state and prospective development of phenomena constitute the sole objects of direct investigation, which does not venture to depart from the strict rules of induction. But, although the incessant effort to embrace nature in its universality may remain unsatisfied, the history of the contemplation of the universe (which p 81 will be considered in another part of this work) will teach us how, in the course of ages, mankind has gradually attained to a partial insight into the relative dependence of phenomena. My duty is to depict the results of our knowledge in all their bearings with reference to the present. In all that is subject to motion and change in space, the ultimate aim, the very expression of physical laws, depend upon 'mean numerical values', which show us the constant amid change, and the stable amid apparent fluctuations of phenomena. Thus the progress of modern physical science is especially characterized by the attainment and the rectification of the mean values of certain quantities by means of the processes of weighing and measuring; and it may be said, that the only remaining and widely-diffused hieroglyphic characters still in our writing -- 'numbers' -- appear to us again, as powers of the Cosmos, although in a wider sense than that applied to them by the Italian School.

The earnest investigator delights in the simplicity of numerical relations, indicating the dimensions of the celestial regions, the magnitudes and periodical disturbances of the heavenly bodies, the triple elements of terrestrial magnetism, the mean pressure of the atmosphere, and the quantity of heat which the sun imparts in each year, and in every season of the year, to all points of the solid and liquid surface of our planet. These sources of enjoyment do not, however, satisfy the poet of Nature, or the mind of the inquiring many. To both of these the present state of science appears as a blank, now that she answers doubtingly, or wholly rejects as unanswerable, questions to which former ages deemed they could furnish satisfactory replies. In her severer aspect, and clothed with less luxuriance, she shows herself deprived of that seductive charm with which a dogmatizing and symbolizing physical philosophy knew how to deceive the understanding and give the rein to imagination. Long before the discovery of the New World, it was believed that new lands in the Far West might be seen from the shores of the Canaries and the Azores. These illusive images were owing, not to any extraordinary refraction of the rays of light, but produced by an eager longing for the distant and the unattained. The philosophy of the Greeks, the physical views of the Middle Ages, and even those of a more recent period, have been eminently imbued with the charm springing from similar illusive phantoms of the imagination. At the limits of circumscribed knowledge, as from some lofty island shore, the eye delights to penetrate p 82 to distant regions. The belief in the uncommon and the wonderful lends a definite outline to every manifestation of ideal creation; and the realm of fancy -- a fairy-land of cosmological, geognostical, and magnetic visions -- becomes thus involuntarily blended with the domain of reality.

Nature, in the manifold signification of the word -- whether considered as the universality of all that is and ever will be -- as the inner moving force of all phenomena, or as their mysterious prototype -- reveals itself to the simple mind and feelings of man as something earthly, and closely allied to himself. It is only within the animated circles of organic structure that we feel ourselves peculiarly at home. Thus, wherever the earth unfolds her fruits and flowers, and gives food to countless tribes of animals, there the image of nature impresses itself most vividly upon our senses. The impression thus produced upon our minds limits itself almost exclusively to the reflection of the earthly. The starry vault and the wide expanse of the heavens belong to a picture of the universe, in which the magnitude of masses, the number of congregated suns and faintly glimmering nebulae, although they excite our wonder and astonishment, manifest themselves to us in apparent isolation, and as utterly devoid of all evidence of their being the scenes of organic life. Thus, even in the earliest physical views of mankind, heaven and earth have been separated and opposed to one another as an upper and lower portion of space. If, then, a picture of nature were to correspond to the requirements of contemplation by the senses, it ought to begin with a delineation of our native earth. It should depict, first, the terrestrial planet as to its size and form; its increasing density and heat at increasing depths in its superimposed solid and liquid strate; the separation of sea and land, and the vital forms animating both, developed in the cellular tissues of plants and animals; the atmospheric ocean, with its waves and currents, through which pierce the forest-crowned summits of our mountain chains. After this delineation of purely telluric relations, the eye would rise to the celestial regions, and the Earth would then, as the well-known seat of organic development, be considered as a planet, occupying a place in the series of those heavenly bodies which circle round one of the innumerable host of self-luminous stars. This succession of ideas indicates the course pursued in the earliest stages of perceptive contemplation, and reminds us of the ancient conception of the "sea-girt disk of earth," supporting the vault of heaven. It begins to exercise in action p 83 at the spot where it originated, and passes from the consideration of the known to the unknown, of the near to the distant. It corresponds with the method pursued in our elementary works on astronomy (and which is so admirable in a mathematical point of view), of proceeding from the apparent to the real movements of the heavenly bodies.

Another course of ideas must, however, be pursued in a work which proposes merely to give an exposition of what is known -- of what may in the present state of our knowledge be regarded as certain, or as merely probable in a greater or lesser degree -- and does not enter into a consideration of the proofs on which such results have been based. Here, therefore, we do not proceed from the subjective point of view of human interests. The terrestrial must be treated only as grand and free, uninfluenced by motives of proximity, social sympathy, or relative utility. A physical cosmography -- a picture of the universe -- does not begin, therefore, with the picture of the universe -- does not begin, therefore, with the terrestrial, but with that which fills the regions of space. But as the sphere of contemplation contracts in dimension our perception of the richness of individual parts, the fullness of physical phenomena, and of the heterogeneous properties of matter becomes enlarged. From the regions in which we recognize ony the dominion of the laws of attraction, we descend to our own planet, and to the intricate play of terrestrial forces. The method here described for the delineation of nature is opposed to that which mst be pursued in establishing conclusive results. The one enumerates what the other demonstrates.

Man learns to know the external world through the organs of the senses. Phenomena of light proclaim the existence of matter in remotest space, and the eye is thus made the medium through which we may contemplate the universe. The discovery of telescopic vision more than two centuries ago, has transmitted to latest generations a power whose limits are as yet unattained.

The first and most general consideration of the Cosmos is that of the 'contents of space' -- the distribution of matter, or of creation, as we are wont to designate the assemblage of all that is and ever will be developed. We see matter either agglomerated into rotating, revolving spheres of different density and size, or scattered through space in the form of self-luminous vapor. If we consider first the cosmical vapor dispersed in definite nebulous spots, its state of aggregation will p 84 appear constantly to vary, sometimes appearing separated into round or elliptical disks, single or in pairs, occasionally connected by a thread of light; while, at another time, these nebulae occur in forms of larger dimensions, and are either elongated, or variously branched or fan-shaped or appear like well-defined rings, including a dark interior. It is conjectured that these bodies are undergoing variously developed formative processes, as the cosmical vapor becomes condensed in conformity with the laws of attraction, either round one or more of the nuclei. Between two and three thousand of such unresolvable nebulae, in which the most powerful telescopes have hitherto been unable to distinguish the presence of stars, have been counted, and their positions determined.

The genetic evolution -- that perpetual state of development which seems to affect this portion of the regions of space -- has led philosophical observers to the discovery of the analogy existing among organic phenomena. As in our forests we see the same kind of tree in all the various stages of its growth, and are thus enabled to form an idea of progressive, vital development, so do we also in the great garden of the universe, recognise the most different phases of sidereal formation. The process of condensation, which formed a part of the doctrines of Anaximenes and of the Ionian School, appears to be going on before our eyes. This subject of investigation and conjecture is especially attractive to the imagination, for in the study of the animated circles of nature, and of the action of all the moving forces of the universe, the charm that exercises the most powerful influence on the mind is derived less from a knowledge of that which 'is' than from a perception of that which 'will be', even though the latter be nothing more than a new condition of a known material existence; for of actual creation, of origin, the beginning of existence from non-existence, we have no experience, and can therefore form no conception.

A comparison of the various causes influencing the development manifested by the greater or less degree of condensation in the interior of nebulae, no less than a successive course of direct observations, have led to the belief that changes of form have been recognized first in Andromeda, next in the constallation Argo, and in the isolated filamentous portion of the nebula in Orion. But want of uniformity in the power of the instruments employed, different conditions of our atmosphere, and other optical relations, render a part of the results invalid as historical evidence.

p 85 'Nebulous stars' must not be confounded either with irregularly-shaped nebulous spots, properly so called, whose separate parts have an unequal degree of brightness (and which may, perhaps, become concentrated into stars as their circumference contracts), nor with the so-called planetary nebulae, whose circular or slightly oval disks manifest in all their parts a perfectly uniform degree of faint light. 'Nebulous stars' are not merely accidental bodies projected upon a nebulous ground, but are a part of the nebulous matter constituting one mass with the body which it surrounds. The not unfrequently considerable magnitude of their apparent diameter, and the remote distance from which they are revealed to us, show that both the planetary nebulae and the nebulous stars must be of enormous dimensions. New and ingenious considerations of the different influence exercised by distance* on the intensity of light of a disk of appreciable diameter, and of a single self-luminous point, render it not improbable that the planetary nebulae are very remote nebulous stars, in which the difference between the central body and the surrounding nebulous covering can no longer be detected by our telescopic instruments.

[footnote] * The optical considerations relative to the difference presented by a single luminous point, and by a disk subtending an appreciable angle, in which the intensity of light is constant at every distance, are explained in Arago's 'Analyse des Travaux de Sir William Herschel' ('Annuaire du Bureau des Long.', 1842, p. 410-412, and 441).

The magnificent zones of the southern heavens, between 50 degrees and 80 degrees, are especially rich in nebulous stars, and in compressed unresolvable nebua e. The larger of the two Magellanic clouds, which circle round the starless, desert pole of the south, appears, according to the most recent researches,* as "a collection of clusters of stars, composed of globular clusters and nebulae of different magnitude, and of large nebulous spots

p 86 not resolvable, which, producing a general brightness in the field of view, form, as it were, the back-ground of the picture."

[footnote] *The two Magellanic clouds, Nubecula major and Nubecula minor, are very remarkable objects. The larger of the two is an accumulated mass of stars, and consists of clusters of stars of irregular form, either conical masses or nebulae of different magnitudes and degrees of condensation. This is interspersed with nebulous spots, not resolvable into stars, but which are probably 'star dust', appearing only as a general radiance upon the telescopic field of a twenty-feet reflector, and forming a luminous ground on which other objects of striking and indescribable form are scattered. In no other portion of the heavens are so many nebulous and stellar masses thronged together in an equally small space. Nubecula minor is much less beautiful, has more unresolvable nebulous light, while the stellar masses are fewer and fainter in intensity. -- (From a letter of Sir John Herschel, Feldhuysen, Cape of Good Hope, 13th June, 1836.)

The appearance of these clouds, of the brightly-beaming constellation Argo, of the Milky Way between Scorpio, the Centaur, and the Southern Cross, the picturesque beauty, if one may so speak, of the whole expanse of the southern celestial hemisphere, has left upon my mind an ineffaceable impression. The zodiacal light, which rises in a pyramidal form, and constantly contributes, by its mild radiance, to the external beauty of the tropical nights, is either a vast nebulous ring, rotating between the Earth and Mars, or, less probably, the exterior stratum of the solar atmosphere. Besides these luminous clouds and nebulae of definite form, exact and corresponding observations indicate the existence and the general distribution of an apparently non-luminous, infinitely-divided matter, which posssesses a force of resistance and manifests its presence in Encke's, and perhaps also in Biela's comet, by diminishing their eccentricity and shortening their period of revolution. Of this impending, ethereal, and cosmical matter, it may be supposed that it is in motion; that it gravitates, notwithstanding its original tenuity; that it is condensed in the vicinity of the great mass of the Sun; and, finally, that it may, for myriads of ages, have been augmented by the vapor emanating from the tails of comets.

If we now pass from the consideration of the vaporous matter of the immeasurable regions of space [(Greek)*] -- whether scattered without definite form and limits, it exists as a cosmical other, or is condensed into nebulous spots, and becomes comprised among the solid agglomerated bodies of the universe -- we approach a class of phenomena exclusively designated by the form of stars, or as the sidereal world.

[footnote] *I should have made use, in the place of garden of the universe, of the beautiful expression [Greek], borrowed by Hesychius from an unknown poet, if [Greek] had not rather signified in general an inclosed space. The connection with the German 'garten' and the English 'garden', 'gards' in Gothic (derived according to Jacob Grimm, from 'gairdan', 'to gird'), is, however, evident, as is likewise the affinity with the Slavonic 'grad', 'gorod', and as Pott remarks, in his 'Etymol. Forschungen', th. i., s. 144 (Etymol. Researches), with the Latin 'chors', whence we have the Spanish 'corte', the French 'cour', and the English word 'court', together with the Ossetic 'khart'. To these may be further added the Scandinavian 'gard',** 'gard', a place inclosed, as a court, or a country seat, and the Persian 'gerd', 'gird', a district, a circle, a princely country seat, a castle or city, as we find the term applied to the names of places in Firdusi's Schahnameh, as 'Siyawakschgird', 'Darabgird', etc.

** (This word is written 'gaard' in the Danish) -- Tr.

p 87 Here, too, we find differences existing in the solidity or density of the spheroidally agglomerated matter. Our own solar system presents all stages of 'mean' density (or of the relation of 'volume' to 'mass'.) On comparing the planets from Mercury to Mars with the Sun and with Jupiter, and these two last named with the yet inferior density of Saturn, we arrive, by a descending scale -- to draw our illustration from the terrestrial substances -- at the respective densities of antimony, honey, water, and pine wood. In comets, which actually constitute the most considerable portion of our solar system with respect to the number of individual forms, the concentrated part, usually termed the 'head', or 'nucleus', transmits sidereal light unimpaired. The mass of a comet probably in no case equals the five thousandth part of that of the earth, so dissimilar are the formative processes manifested in the original and perhaps still progressive agglomerations of matter. In proceeding from general to special considerations, it was particularly desirable to draw attention to this diversity, not merely as a possible, but as an actually proved fact.

The purely speculative conclusions arrived at by Wright, Kant, and Lambert, concerning the general structural arrangement of the universe, and of the distribution of matter in space, have been confirmed by Sir William Herschel, on the more certain path of observation and measurement. That great and enthusiastic, although cautious observer, was the first to sound the depths of heaven in order to determine the limits and form of the starry stratum which we inhabit, and he, too, was the first who ventured to throw the light of investigation upon the relations existing between the position and distance of remote nebulae and our own portion of the sidereal universe. William Herschel, as is well expressed in the elegant inscription on his monument at Upton, broke through the inclosures of heaven ('caelorum perrupit claustra'), and, like another Columbus, penetrated into an unknown ocean, from which he beheld coasts and groups of islands, whose true position it remains for future ages to determine.

Considerations regarding the different intensity of light in stars, and their relative number, that is to say, their numerical frequency on telescopic fields of equal magnitude, have led to the assumption of unequal distances and distribution in space in the strata which they compose. Such assumptions, in as far as they may lead us to draw the limits of the individual portions of the universe, can not offer the same degree of mathematical certainty as that which may be attained in all that p 88 relates to our solar system, whether we consider the rotation of double stars with unequal velocity round one common center of gravity, or the apparent or true movements of all the heavenly bodies. If we take up the physical description of the universe from the remotest nebulae, we may be inclined to compare it with the mythical portions of history. The one begins in the obscurity of antiquity, the other in that of inaccessible space; and at the point where reality seems to flee before us, imagination becomes doubly incited to draw from its own fullness, and give definite outline and permanence to the changing forms of objects.

If we compare the regions of the universe with one of the island-studded seas of our own planet, we may imagine matter to be distributed in groups, either as unresolvable nebulae of different ages, condensed around one or more nuclei, or as already agglomerated into clusters of stars, or isolated spheroidal bodies. The cluster of stars, to which our cosmical island belongs, forms a lens-shaped, flattened stratum, detached on every side, whose major axis is estimated at seven or eight hundred, and its minor one at a hundred and fifty times the distance of Sirius. It would appear, on the supposition that the parallax of Sirius is not greater than that accurately determined for the brightest star in the Centaur (0".9128), that light traverses one distance of Sirius in three years, while it also follows, from Bessel's earlier excellent Memoir* on the parallax of the remarkable star 61 Cygni (0".3483), (whose considerable motion might lead to the inference of great proximity), that a period of nine years and a quarter is required for the transmission of light from this star to our planet.

[footnote] *See Maclear's "Results from 1839 to 1840," in the 'Trans. of the Astronomical Soc.', vol. xii., p. 370, on 'a' Centauri, the probable mean error being 0".0649. For 61 Cygni, see Bessel, in Schumacher's 'Jahrbuch', 1839, s. 47, and Schumacher's 'Astron. Nachr.', bd. xviii., s. 401, 402, probable mean error, 0".0141. With reference to the relative distances of stars of different magnitudes, how those of the third magnitude may probably be three times more remote, and the manner in which we represent to ourselves the material arrangement of the starry strata, I have found the following remarkable passage in Kepler's 'Epitome Astronomiae Copernicanae', 1618, t. i., lib. 1, p. 34-39: "Sol hic noster nil aliud est quam una ex fixis, nobis major et clarior visa, quia propior quam fixa. Pone terram stare ad latus, una semi-diametro via e lactea e, tunc ha ec via lactea apparebit circulus parvus, vel ellipsis parva, tota declinans ad latus alterum; eritque simul uno intuitu conspicua, quae nunc no potest nisi dimidia conspici quovis momento. Itaque fix arum spha era non tantum orbe stellarum, sed etiam circulo lactis versus not deorsum est terminata."

Our starry stratum is a disk of inconsiderable thickness, divided a p 89 third of its length into two branches; it is supposed that we are near this division, and nearer to the region of Sirius than to the constellation Aquila, almost in the middle of the stratum in the line of its thickness or minor axis.

This position of our solar system, and the form of the whole discoidal stratum, have been inferred from sidereal scales, that is to say, from that method of counting the stars to which I have already alluded, and which is based upon the equidistant subdivision of the telescopic field of view. The relative depth of the stratum in all directions is measured by the greater or smaller number of stars appearing in each division. These divisions give the length of the ray of vision in the same manner as we measure the depth to which the plummet has been thrown, before it reaches the bottom, although in the case of a starry stratum there can not, correctly speaking, be any idea of depth, but merely of outer limits. In the direction of the longer axis, where the stars lie behind one another, the more remote ones appear closely crowded together, united, as it were, by a milky-white radiance or luminous vapor, and are perspectively grouped, encircling as in a zone, the visible vault of heaven. This narrow and branched girdle, studded with a radiant light, and here and there interrupted by dark spots, deviates only by a few degrees from forming a perfect large circle round the concave sphere of heaven, owing to our being near the center of the large starry cluster, and almost on the plane of the Milky Way. If our planetary system were far 'outside' this cluster, the Milky Way would appear to telescopic vision as a ring, and at a still greater distance as a resolvable discoidal nebula.

Among the many self-luminous moving suns, erroneously called 'fixed stars', which constitute our cosmical island, our own sun is the only one known by direct observation to be a 'central body' in its relations to spherical agglomerations of matter directly depending upon and revolving round it, either in the form of planets, comets, or aerolite asteroids. As far as we have hitherto been able to investigate 'multiple' stars (double stars or suns), these bodies are not subject, with respect to relative motion and illumination, to the same planetary dependence that characterizes our own solar system. Two or more self-luminous bodies, whose planets and moon, if such exist, have hitherto escaped our telescopic powers of vision, certainly revolve around one common center of gravity; but this is in a portion of space which is probably occupied merely by unagglomerated matter or cosmical vapor, while in our system p 90 the center of gravity is often comprised within the innermost limits of a 'visible' central body. If, therefore, we regard the Sun and the Earth, or the Earth and the Moon, as double-stars, and the whole of our planetary solar system as a multiple cluster of stars, the analogy thus suggested must be limited to the universality of the laws of attraction in different systems, being alike applicable to the independent processes of light and to the method of illumination.

For the generalization of cosmical views, corresponding with the plan we have proposed to follow in giving a delineation of nature or of the universe, the solar system to which the Earth belongs may be considered in a two-fold relation: first, with respect to the different classes of individually agglomerated matter, and the relative size, conformation, density, and distance of the heavenly bodies of this system; and secondly, with reference to other portions of our starry cluster, and of the changes of position of its central body, the Sun.

The solar system, that is to say, the variously-formed matter circling round the Sun, consists, according to the present state of our knowledge of 'eleven primary planets',* eighteen satellites p 91 or secondary planets, and myriads of comets, three of which, known as the "planetary comets," do not pass beyond the narrow limits of the orbits described by the principal planets.

[footnote] * (Since the publication of Baron Humboldt's work in 1845, several other planets have been discovered, making the number of those belonging to our planetary system 'sixteen' instead of 'eleven'. Of these, Astrea, Hebe, Flora, and Iris are members of the remarkable group of asteroids between Mars and Jupiter. Astrea and Hebe were discovered by Hencke at Driesen, the one in 1846 and the other in 1847; Flora and Iris were both discovered in 1847 by Mr. Hind, at the South Villa Observatory, Regent's Park. It would appear from the latest determinations of their elements, that the small planets have the following order with respect to mean distance from the Sun: Flora, Iris, Vesta, Hebe, Astrea, Juno, Ceres, Pallas. Of these, Flora has the shortest period (about 3 1/4 years). The planet Neptune, which, after having been predicted by several astronomers, was actually observed on the 25th of September, 1846, is situated on the confines of our planetary system beyond Uranus. The discovery of this planet is not only highly interesting from the importance attached to it as a question of science, but also from the evidence it affords of the care and unremitting labor evinced by modern astronomers in the investigation and comparison of the older calculations, and the ingenious application of the results thus obtained to the observation of new facts. The merit of having paved the way for the discovery of the planet Neptune is due to M. Bouvard, who, in his persevering and assiduous efforts to deduce the entire orbit of Uranus from observations made during the forty years that succeeded the discovery of that planet in 1781, found the results yielded by theory to be at variance with fact, in a degree that had no parallel in the history of astronomy. This startling discrepancy, which seemed only to gain additional weight from every attempt made by M. Bouvard to correct his calculations, led Leverrier, after a careful modification of the tables of Bouvard, to establish the proposition that there was "a formal incompatibility between the observed motions of Uranus and the hypothesis that he was acted on 'only' by the Sun and known planets, according to the law of universal gravitation." Pursuing this idea, Leverrier arrived at the conclusion that the disturbing cause must be a 'planet', and finally, after an amount of labor that seems perfectly overwhelming, he, on the 31st of August, 1846, laid before the French Institute a paper, in which he indicated the exact spot in the heavens where this new planetary body would be found, giving the following data for its various elements: mean distance from the Sun, 36.154 times that of the Earth; period of revolution, 217.387 years; mean long., Jan. 1st, 1847, 318 degrees 47'; mass, 1/9300th; heliocentric long., Jan 1st1847, 326 degrees 32'. Essential difficulties still intervened, however, and as the remoteness of the planet rendered it improbable that its disk would be discernible by any telescopic instrument, no other means remained for detecting the suspected body but its planetary motion, which could only be ascertained by mapping, after every observation, the quarter of the heavens scanned, and by a comparison of the various maps. Fortunately for the verification of Leverrier's predictions, Dr. Bremiker had just completed a map of the precise region in which it was expected the new planet would apper, this being one of a series of maps made for the Academy of Berlin, of the small stars along the entire zodiac. By means of this valuable assistance, Dr. Galle, of the Berlin Observatory, was led, on the 25th of September, 1846, by the discovery of a star of the eighth magnitude, not recorded in Dr. Bremiker's map, to make the first observation of the planet predicted by Leverrier. By a singular coincidence, Mr. Adams, of Cambridge, had predicted the appearance of the planet simultaneously with M. Leverrier; but by the concurrence of several circumstances much to be regretted, the world at large were not made acquainted with Mr. Adams's valuable discovery until subsequently to the period at which Leverrier published his observations. As the data of Leverrier and Adams stand at present, there is a discrepancy between the predicted and the true distance, and in some other elements of the planet; it remains therefore, for these or future astronomers to reconcile theory with fact, or perhaps, as in the case of Uranus, to make the new planet the means of leading to yet greater discoveries. It would appear from the most recent observations, that the mass of Neptune, instead of being, as at first stated, 1/9300th, is only about 1/23000th that of the Sun, while its periodic time is now given with a greater probability at 166 years, and its mean distance from the Sun nearly 30. The planet appears to have a ring, but as yet no accurate observations have been made regarding its system of satellites. See 'Trans. Astron. Soc.', and 'The Planet Neptune', 1848, by J. P. Nicholl.) -- Tr.

We may, with no incondsiderable degree of probability, include within the domain of our Sun, in the immediate sphere of its central force, a rotating ring of vaporous matter, lying probably between the orbits of Venus and Mars, but certainly beyond that of the Earth,* which appears to us in p 92 a pyramidal form, and is known as the 'Zodiacal Light'; and a host of very small asteroids, whose orbits either intersect, or very nearly approach, that of our earth, and which present us with the phenomena of aerolites and falling or shooting stars.

[footnote] * "If there should be molecules in the zones diffused by the atmosphere of the Sun of too volatile a nature either to combine with one another or with the planets, we must suppose that they would, in circling round that luminary, present all the appearances of zodiacal light, without opposing any appreciable resistance to the different bodies composing the planetary system, either owing to their extreme rarity, or to the similarity existing between their motion and that of the planets with which they come in contact." -- Laplace, 'Expos. du Syst. du Monde' (ed. 5), p. 415.

When we consider the complication of variously-formed bodies which revolve round the Sun in orbits of such dissimilar eccentricity--although we may not be disposed, with the immortal author of the 'Mecanique Celeste', to regard the largr number of comets as nebulous stars, passing from one central system to another,* we yet can not fail to acknowledge that the planetary system, especially so called (that is, the group of heavenly bodies which, together with their satellites, revolve with but slightly eccentric orbits round the Sun), constitutes but a small portion of the whole system with respect to individual numbers, if not to mass.

[footnote] *Laplace, 'Exp. du Syst. du Monde', p. 396, 414.

It has been proposed to consider the telescopic planets, Vesta, Juno, Ceres, and Pallas, with their more closely intersecting, inclined, and eccentric orbits, as a zone of separation, or as a middle group in space; and if this view be adopted, we shall discover that the interior planetary group (consisting of Mercury, Venus, the Earth, and Mars) presents several very striking contrasts* when compared with the exterior group, comprising Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus.

[footnote] *Littrow, 'Astronomie', 1825, bd.xi., 107. Mädler, 'Astron.', 1841, § 212. Laplace, 'Exp. du Syst. du Monde', p. 210.

The planets nearest the Sun, and consequently included in the inner group, are of more moderate size, denser, rotate more slowly and with nearly equal velocity (their periods of revolution being almost all about 24 hours), are less compressed at the poles, and with the exception of one, are without satellites. The exterior planets, which are further removed from the Sun, are very considerably larger, have a density five times less, more than twice as great a velocity in the period of their rotation round their axes, are more compressed at the poles, and if six satellites may be ascribed to Uranus, have a quantitative preponderance in the number of their attendant moons, which is as seventeen to one.

p 93 Such general considerations regarding certain characteristic properties appertaining to whole groups, can not, however, be applied with equal justice to the individual planets of every group, nor to the relations between the distances of the revolving planets from the central body, and their absolute size, density, period or rotation, eccentricity, and the inclination of their orbits and the axes. We know as yet of no inherent necessity, no mechanical natural law, similar to the one which teaches us that the squares of the periodic times are proportional to the cubes of the major axes, by which the above-named six elements of the planetary bodies and the form of their orbit are made dependent either on one another, or on their mean distance from the Sun. Mars is smaller than the Earth and Venus, although further removed from the Sun than these last-named planets, approaching most nearly in size to Mercury, the nearest planet to the Sun. Saturn is smaller than Jupiter, and yet much larger than Uranus. The zone of the telescopic planets, which have so inconsiderable a volume, immediately procede Jupiter (the greatest in size of any of the planetary bodies), if we consider them with regard to distance from the Sun; and yet the disks of these small asteroids, which scarcely admit of measurement, have an areal surface not much more than half that of France, Madagascar, or Borneo. However striking may be the extremely small density of all the colossal planets, which are furthest removed from the Sun, we are yet unable in this respect to recognize any regular succession.*

[footnote] *See Kepler, on the increasing density and volume of the planets in proportion with their increase of distance from the Sun, which is described as the densest of all the heavenly bodies; in the 'Epitome Astran. Copern. in' vii. 'libros digesta', 1618-1622, p. 420. Leibnitz also inclined to the opinions of Kepler and Otto von Guericke, that the planets increase in volume in proportion to their increase of distance from the Sun. See his letter to the Magdeburg Burgomaster (Mayence, 1671), in Leibnitz, 'Deutschen Schriften, herausg. von Guhrauer', th. i., 264.

Uranus appears to be denser than Saturn, even if we adopt the smaller mass, 1/24605, assumed by Lamont; and, notwithstanding the inconsiderable difference of density observed in the innermost planetary group,* we find both Venus and Mars less dense than the Earth, which lies between them.

[footnote] *On the arrangement of masses, see Encke, in Schum., 'Astr. Nachr', 1843 Nr. 488, 114.

The time of rotation certainly diminishes with increasing solar distance, but yet it is greater in Mars than in the Earth, and in Saturn than in Jupiter. The elliptic p 94 orbits of Juno, Pallas, and Mercury have the greatest degree of eccentricity, and Mars and Venus, which immediately follow each other, have the least. Mercury and Venus exhibit the same contrasts that may be observed in the four smaller planets, or asteroids, whose paths are so closely interwoven.

The eccentriciities of Juno and Pallas are very nearly identical, and reach three times as great as those of Ceres and Vesta. The same may be said of the inclination of the orbits of the planets toward the plane of projection of the ecliptic, or in the position of their axes of rotation with relation to their orbits, a position on which the relations of climate, seasons of the year, and length of the days depend more than on eccentricity. Those planets that have the most elongated elliptic orbits, as Juno, Pallas, and Mercury, have also, although not to the same degree their orbits most strongly inclined toward the ecliptic. Pallas has a comet-like inclination nearly twenty-six times greater than that of Jupiter, while in the little planet Vesta, which is so near Pallas, the angle of inclination scarcely by six times exceeds that of Jupiter. An equally irregular succession is observed in the position of the axes of the few planets (four or five) whose planes of rotation we know with any degree of certainty. It would appear from the position of the satellites of Uranus, two of which, the second and fourth, have been recently observed with certainty, that the axis of this, the outermost of all the planets is scarcely inclined as much as 11 degrees toward the plane of its orbit, while Saturn is placed between this planet, whose axis almost coincides with the plane of its orbit, and Jupiter, whose axis of rotation is nearly perpendicular to it.

In this enumeration of the forms which compose the world in space, we have delineated them as possessing an actual existence, and not as objects of intellectual contemplation, or as mere links of a mental and causal chain of connection. The planetary system, in its relations of absolute size and relative position of the axes, density, time of rotation, and different degrees of eccentricity of the orbits, does not appear to offer to our apprehension any stronger evidence of a natural necessity than the proportion observed in the distribution of land and water on the Earth, the configuration of continents, or the height of mountain chains. In these respects we can discover no common law in the regions of space or in the inequalities of the earth's crust. They are 'facts' in nature that have arisen from the conflict of manifold forces acting under unknown p 95 conditions, although man considers as 'accidental' whatever he is unable to explain in the planetary formation on purely genetic principles. If the planets have been formed out of separate rings of vaporous matter revolving round the Sun, we may conjecture that the different thickness, unequal density, temperature, and electro-magnetic tension of these rings may have given occasion to the most various agglomerations of matter, in the same manner as the amount of tangential velocity and small variations in its direction have produced so great a differencein the forms and inclinations of the elliptic orbits. Attractions of mass and laws of gravitation have no doubt exercised an influence here, no less than in the geognostic relations of the elevations of continents; but we are unable from the present forms to draw any conclusions regarding the series of conditions through which they have passed. Even the so-called law of the distances of the planets from the Sun, the law of progression (which led Kepler to conjecture the existence of a planet supplying the link that was wanting in the chain of connection between Mars and Jupiter), has been found numerically inexact for the distances between Mercury, Venus, and the Earth, and a variance with the conception of a series, owing to the necessity for a supposition in the case of the first member.

The hitherto disscovered principal planets that revolve round our Sun are attended certainly by fourteen, and probably by eighteen secondary planets (moons or satellites). The principal planets are, therefore, themselves the central bodies of subordinate systems. We seem to recognize in the fabric of the universe the same process of arrangement so frequently exhibited in the development of organic life, where we find in the manifold combinations of groups of plants or animals the same typical form repeated in the 'subordinate classes'. The secondary planets or satellites are more frequent in the external region of the planetary system, lying beyond the intersecting orbits of the smaller planets or asteroids; in the inner region none of the planets are attended by satellites, with the exception of the Earth, whose moon is relatively of great magnitude, since its diameter is equal to a fourth of that of the Earth, while the diameter of the largest of all known secondary planets -- the sixth satellite of Saturn -- is probably about one seventeenth, and the largest of Jupiter's moons, the third, only about one twenty-sixth part that of the primary planet or central body. The planets which are attended by the largest number of satellites are most remote from the Sun, p 96 and are at the same time the largest, most compressed at the poles, and the least dense. According to the most recent measurements of Mädler, Uranus has a greater planetary compression than any other of the planets, viz., 1/9.92d. In our Earth and her moon, whose mean distance from one another amounts to 207,200 miles, we find that the differences of mass* and diameter between the two are much less considerable than are usually observed to exist between the principal planets and their attendant satellites, or between bodies of different orders in the solar system.

[footnote] *If, according to Burckhardt's determination, the Moon's radius be 0.2725 and its volume 1/49.00th, its density will be 0.5596, or nearly five ninths. Compare, also, Wilh. Beer and H. Madler, 'der Mond', 2, 10, and Madler, 'Ast.', 157. The material contents of the Moon are, according to Hansen, nearly 1/34th (and ädler 1/40.6th) that of the Earth, and its mass equal to 1/87.73d that of the Earth. In the largest of Jupiter's moons, the third, the relations of volume to the central body are 1/15370th, and of mass 1/11300th. On the polar flattening of Uranus, see Schum, 'Astron. Nachr.', 1844, No. 493.

While the density of the Moon is five ninths less than that of the Earth, it would appear, if we may sufficiently depend upon the determinations of their magnitudes and masses, that the second of Jupiter's moons is actually denser than that great planet itself. Among the fourteen satellites that have been investigated with any degree of certainty, the system of the seven satellites of Saturn presents an instance of the greatest possible contrast, both in absolute magnitude and in distance from the central body. The sixth of these satellites is probably not much smaller than Mars, while our moon has a diameter which does not amount to more than half that of the latter planet. With respect to volume, the two outer, the sixth and seventh of Saturn's satellites, approach the nearest to the third and brightest of Jupiter's moons. The two innermost of these satellites belong perhaps, together with the remote moons of Uranus to the smallest cosmical bodies of our solar system, being only made visible under favorable circumstances by the most powerful instruments. They were first discovered by the forty-foot telescope of William Herschel in 1789, and were seen again by John Herschel at the Cape of Good Hope, by Vico at Rome, and by Lamont at Munich. Determinations of the 'true' diameter of satellites, made by the measurement of the apparent size of their small disks, are subjected to many optical difficulties; but numerical astronomy, whose task it is to predetermine by calculation the motions of the heavenly bodies as they will appear when viewed from the Earth, is directed almost p 97 exclusively to motion and mass, and but little to volume. The absolute distance of a satellite from its central body is greatest in the case of the outermost or seventh satellite of Saturn, its distance from the body round which it revolves amounting to more than two millions of miles, or ten times as great a distance as that of our moon from the Earth. In the case of Jupiter we find that the outermost or fourth attendant moon is only 1,040,000 miles from that planet, while the distance between Uranus and its sixth satellite (if the latter really exist) amounts to as much as 1,360,000 miles. If we compare, in each of these subordinate systems, the volume of the satellite, we discover the existence of entirely new numerical relations. The distances of the outermost satellites of Uranus, Saturn, and Jupiter are when expressed in semi-diameters of the main planets, as 91, 64, and 27. The outermost satellite of Saturn appears, therefore, to be removed only about one fifteenth further from the center of that planet than our moon is from the Earth. The first or innermost of Saturn's satellites is nearer to its central body than any other of the secondary planets, and presents, moreover, the only instance of a period of revolution of less than twenty-four hours. Its distance from the center of Saturn may, according to Mädler and Wilhelm Beer, be expressed as 2.47 semi-diameters of that planet, or as 80,088 miles. Its distance from the surface of the main planet is therefore 47,480 miles, and from the outer-most edge of the ring only 4916 miles. The traveler may form to himself an estimate of the smallness of this amount by remembering the statement of an enterprising navigator, Captain Beechey, that he had in three years passed over 72,800 miles. If, instead of absolute distances, we take the semi-diameters of the principal planets, we shall find that even the first or nearest of the moons of Jupiter (which is 26,000 miles further removed from the center of that planet than our moon is from that of the Earth) is only six semi-diameters of Jupiter from its center, while our moon is removed from us fully 60 1/3d semi-diameters of the Earth.

In the subordinate systems of satellites, we find that the same laws of gravitation which regulate the revolutions of the principal planets round the Sun likewise govern the mutual relations existing between these planets among one another and with reference to their attendant satellites. The twelve moons of Saturn, Jupiter, and the Earth all most like the primary planets from west to east, and in elliptic orbits, deviating p 98 but little from circles. It is only in the case of one moon, and perhaps in that of the first and innermost of the satellites of Saturn (0.068), that we discover an eccentricity greater than that of Jupiter; according to the very exact observations of Bessel, the eccentricity of the sixth of Saturn's satellites (0.029) exceeds that of the Earth. On the extremest limits of the planetary system, where, at a distance nineteen times greater than that of our Earth, the centripetal force of the Sun is greatly diminished, the satellites of Uranus (which most striking contrasts from the facts observed with regard to other secondary planets. Instead, as in all other satellites, of having their orbits but slightly inclined toward the ecliptic and (not excepting even Saturn's ring, which may be regarded as a fusion of agglomerated satellites) moving from west to east, the satellites of Uranus are almost perpendicular to the ecliptic, and move retrogressively from east to west, as Sir John Herschel has proved by observations continued during many years. If the primary and secondary planets have been formed by the condensation of rotating rings of solar and planetary atmospheric vapor, there must have existed singular causes of retardation or impediment in the vaporous rings revolving round Uranus, by which, under the relations with which we are unacquainted, the revolution of the second and fourth of its satellites was made to assume a direction opposite to that of the rotation of the central planet.

It seems highly probable that the period of rotation of 'all' secondary planets is equal to that of their revolution round the main planet, and therefore that they always present to the latter the same side. Inequalities, occasioned by sight variations in the revolution, give rise to fluctuations of from 6 degrees to 8 degrees, or to an apparent libration in longitude as well as in latitude. Thus, in the case of our moon, we sometimes observe more than the half of its surface, the eastern and northern edges being more visible at one time, and the western or southern at another. By means of this libration* we are enabled to see the annular mountain Malapert (which occasionally conceals the Moon's south pole), the arctic landscape round the crater of Gioja, and the large gray plane near Endymion which exceeds in superficial extent the 'Mare Vaporum'.

[footnote] *Beer and Madler, op. cit., 185, s.208, and § 347, s. 332; and ix their 'Phys. Kenntniss der himml. Korper', s. 4 und 69, Tab. 1 (Physical History of the Heavenly Bodies).

Three sevenths of the Moon's surface are entirely p 99 concealed from our observation, and must always remain so, unless new and unexpected disturbing causes come into play. These cosmical relations involuntarily remind us of nearly similar conditions in the intellectual world, where, in the domain of deep research into the mysteries and the primeval creative forces of nature, there are regions similarly turned away from us, and apparently unattainable, of which only a narrow margin has revealed itself, for thousands of years, to the human mind, appearing, from time to time, either glimmering in true or delusive light. We have hitherto considered the primary planets, their satellites, and the concentric rings which belong to one, at least, of the outermost planets, as products of tangential force, and as closely connected together by mutual attraction; it therefore now only remains for us to speak of the unnumbered host of 'comets' which constitute a portion of the cosmical bodies revolving in independent orbits round the Sun. If we assume an equable distribution of their orbits, and the limits of their perihelia, or greatest proximities to the Sun, and the possibility of their remaining invisible to the inhabitants of the Earth, and base our estimates on the rules of the calculus of probabilities, we shall obtain as the result an amount of myriads perfectly astonishing. Kepler, with his usual animation of expression, said that there were more comets in the regions of space than fishes in the depths of the ocean. As yet, however, there are scarcely one hundred and fifty whose paths have been calculated, if we may assume at six or seven hundred the number of comets whose appearance and passage through known constellations have been ascertained by more or less precise observations. While the so-called classical nations of the West, the Greeks and Romans, although they may occasionally have indicated the position in which a comet first appeared, never afford any information regarding its apparent path, the copious literature of the Chinese (who observed nature carefully, and recorded with accuracy what they saw) contains circumstantial notices of the constellations through which each comet was observed to pass. These notices go back to more than five hundred years before the Christian era, and many of them are still found to be of value in astronomical observations.*

[footnote] *The first comets of whose orbits we have any knowledge, and which were calculated from Chinese observations, are those of 240 (under Gordian II.), 539 (under Justinian), 565, 568, 574, 837, 1337, and 1385. See John Russell Hind, in Schum., 'Astron. Nachr.', 1843, No. 498. While the comet of 837 (which, according to Du Sejour, continued during twenty-four hours within a distance of 2,000,000 miles from the Earth) terrified Louis I. of France to that degree that he busied himself in building churches and founding monastic establishments, in the hope of appeasing the evils threatened by its appearance, the Chinese astronomers made observations on the path of this cosmical body, whose tail extended over a space of 60 degrees, appearing sometimes single and sometimes multiple. The first comet that has been calculated solely from European observations was that of 1456, known as Halley's comet, from the belief long, but erroneously, entertained that the period when it was first observed by that astronomer was its first and only well-attested appearance. See Arago, in the 'Annuaire', 1836, p. 204, and Langier, 'Comptes Rendus des Seances de l'Acad.', 1843, t. xvi., 1006.

p 100 Although comets have a smaller mass than any other cosmical bodies -- being, according to our present knowledge, probably not equal to 1/5000th part of the Earth's mass -- yet they occupy the largest space, as their tails in several instances extend over many millions of miles. The cone of luminous vapor which radiates from them has been found, in some cases (as in 1680 and 1811), to equal the length of the Earth's distance from the Sun, forming a line that intersects both the orbits of Venus and Mercury. It is even probable that the vapor of the tails of comets mingled with our atmosphere in the years 1819 and 1823.

Comets exhibit such diversities of form, which appear rather to appertain to the individual than the class, that a description of one of these "wandering light-clouds," as they were already called by Xenophanes and Theon of Alexandria, contemporaries of Pappus, can only be applied with caution to another. The faintest telescopic comets are generally devoid of visible tails, and resemble Herschel's nebulous stars. They appear like circular nebulae of faintly-glimmering vapor, with the light concentrted toward the middle. This is the most simple type; but it can not, however, be regarded as rudimentary, since it might equally be the type of an older cosmical body, exhausted by exhalation. In the larger comets we may distinguish both the so-called "head" or "nucleus," and the single or multiple tail, which is characteristically denominated by the Chinese astronomers "the brush" ('sui'). The nucleus generally presents no definite outline, although, in a few rare cases, it appears like a star of the first or second magnitude, and has even been seen in bright sunshine;* as, p 101 for instance, in the large comets of 1402, 1532, 1577, 1744, and 1843.

[footnote] *Arago, 'Annuaire', 1832, p. 209, 211. The phenomenon of the tail of a comet being visible in bright sunshine, which is recorded of the comet of 1402, occurred again in the case of the large comet of 1843, whose nucleus and tail were seen in North America on the 28th of February (according to the testimony of J. G. Clarke, of Portland, state of Maine), between 1 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon.(a) The distance of the very dense nucleus from the sun's light admitted of being measured with much exactness. The nucleus and tail appeared like a very pure white cloud, a darker space intervening between the tail and the nucleus. ('Amer. Journ. of Science', vol. xiv., No. 1, p. 229.)

[footnote] (a) [The translator was at New Bedford, Massachusetts, U.S., on the 28th February, 1843, and distinctly saw the comet, between 1 and 2 in the afternoon. The sky at the time was intensely blue, and the sun shining with a dazzling brightness unknown in European climates.] -- Tr

This latter circumstance indicates, in particular individuals, a denser mass, capable of reflecting light with greater intensity. Even in Herschel's large telescope, only two comets, that discovered in Sicily in 1807, and the splendid one of 1811, exhibited well-defined disks;* the one at an angle of 1 second, and the other at 0.77 seconds, whence the true diameters are assumed to be 536 and 428 miles.

[footnote] *'Phil. Trans.' for 1808, Part ii., p. 155, and for 1812, Part i., p. 118. The diameters found by Herschel for the nuclei were 538 and 428 English miles. For the magnitudes of the comets of 1798 and 1805, see Arago, 'Annuaire', 1832, p. 203.

The diameters of the less well-defined nuclei of the comets of 1798 and 1805 did not appear to exceed 24 or 28 miles.

In several comets that have been investigated with great care, especially in the above-named one of 1811, which continued visible for so long a period, the nucleus and its nebulous envelope were entirely separated from the tail by a darker space. The intensity of light in the nucleus of comets does not augment toward the center in any uniform degree, brightly shining zones being in many cases separated by concentric nebulous envelopes. The tails sometimes appear single, sometimes, although more rarely, double; and in the comets of 1807 and 1843 the branches were of different lengths; in one instance (1744) the tail had six branches, the whole forming an angle of 60 degrees. The tails have been sometimes straight, sometimes curved, either toward both sides, or toward the side appearing to us as the exterior (as in 1811), or convex toward the direction in which the comet is moving (as in that of 1618); and sometimes the tail has even appeared like a flame in motion. The tails are always turned away from the sun, so that their line of prolongation passes through its center; a fact which, according to Edward Biot, was noticed by the Chinese astronomers as early as 837, but was first generally made known in Europe by Fracastoro and Peter Apian in the sixteenth century. These emanations may be regarded as conoidal envelopes of greater of less thickness, p 102 and, considered in this manner, they furnish a simple explanation of many of the remarkable optical phenomena already spoken of.

Comets are not only characteristically different in form, some being entirely without a visible tail, while others have a tail of immense length (as in the instance of the comet of 1618, whose tail measured 104 degrees), but we also see the same comets undergoing successive and rapidly-changing processes of configuration. These variations of form have been most accurately and admirably described in the comet of 1744, by Hensius, at St. Petersburg, and in Halley's comet, on its last reappearance in 1835, by Bessel, at Konigsberg. A more or less well-defined tuft of rays emanated from that part of the nucleus which was turned toward the Sun; and the rays being bent backward, formed a part of the tail. The nucleus of Halley's comet; with its emanations, presented the appearance of a burning rocket, the end of which was turned sideways by the force of the wind. The rays issuing from the head were seen by Arago and myself, at the Observatory at Paris, to assume very different forms on successive nights.*

[footnote] *Arago, 'Des Changements physiques de la Comete de Halley du 15-23 Oct., 1835. 'Annuaire', 1836, p. 218, 221. The ordinary direction of the emanations was noticed even in Nero's time. "Comae radios solis effugiunt." -- Seneca, 'Nat. Quaest.', vii., 20.

The great Konigsberg astronomer concluded from many measurements, and from theoretical considerations, "that the cone of light issuing from the comet deviated considerably both to the right and the left of the true direction of the Sun, but that it always returned to that direction, and passed over to the opposite side, so that both the cone of light and the body of the comet from whence it emanated experienced a rotatory, or, rather, a vibratory motion in the plane of the orbit." He finds that "the attractive force exercised by the Sun on heavy bodies is inadequate to explain such vibrations, and is of opinion that they indicate a polar force, which turns one semi-diameter of the comet toward the Sun, and strives to turn the opposite side away from that luminary. The magnetic polarity possessed by the Earth may present some analogy to this, and, should the Sun have an opposite polarity, an influence might be manifested, resulting in the precession of the equinoxes." This is not the place to enter more fully upon the grounds on which explanations of this subject have been based; but observations so remarkable,* and views of so exalted p 103 a character, regarding the most wonderful class of the cosmical bodies belonging to our solar system, ought not to be entirely passed over in this sketch of a general picture of nature.

[footnote] *Bessel, in Schumacher, 'Astr. Nachr.', 1836, No. 300-302, s. 188, 192, 197, 200, 202, und 230. Also in Schumacher, 'Jahrb.', 1837, s. 149, 168. William Herschel, in his observations on the beautiful comet of 1811, believed that he had discovered evidences of the rotation of the nucleus and tail ('Phil. Trans.' for 1812, Part i., p. 140). Dunlop, at Paramatta thought the same with reference to the third comet of 1825.

Although, as a rule, the tails of comets increase in magnitude and brilliancy in the vicinity of the sun, and are directed away from that central body, yet the comet of 1823 offered the remarkable example of two tails, one of which was turned toward the sun, and the other away from it, forming with each other an angle of 160 degrees. Modifications of polarity and the unequal manner of its distribution, and of the direction in which it is conducted, may in this rare instance have occasioned a double, unchecked, continuous emanation of nebulous matter.*

[footnote] *Bessel, in 'Astr. Nachr.', 1836, No. 302, s. 231. Schum, 'Jahrb.', 1837 s. 175. See, also Lehmann, 'Ueber Cometenschweife' (On the Tails of Comets), in Bode, 'Astron. Jahrb. fur' 1826, s. 168.

Aristotle, in his 'Natural Philosophy', makes these emanations the means of bringing the phenomena of comets into a singular connection with the existence of the Milky Way. According to his views, the innumerable quantity of stars which compose this starry zone give out a self-luminous, incandescent matter. The nebulous belt which separates the different portions of the vault of heaven was therefore regarded by the Stagirite as a large comet, the substance of which was incessantly being renewed.*

[footnote] *Aristot., 'Meteor.', i., 8, 11-14, und 19-21 (ed. Ideler, t. i., p. 32-34). Biese, 'Phil. des Aristoteles', bd. ii., s. 86. Since Aristotle exercised so great an influence throughout the whole of the Middle Ages, it is very much to be regretted that he was so averse to those grander views of the elder Pythagoreans, which inculcated ideas so nearly approximating to truth respecting the structure of the universe. He asserts that comets are transitory meteors belonging to our atmosphere in the very book in which he cites the opinion of the Pythagorean school, according to which these cosmical bodies are supposed to be planets having long periods of revolution. (Aristot., i., 6, 2.) This Pythagorean doctrine, which, according to the testimony of Apollonius Myndius, was still more ancient, having originated with the Chaldeans, passed over to the Romans, who in this instance, as was their usual practice, were merely the copiers of others. The Myndian philosopher describes the path of comets as directed toward the upper and remote regions of heaven. Hence Seneca says, in his 'Nat. Quaest.', vii., 17: "Cometes non est species falsa, sed proprium sidus sicut solis et lunae: altiora mundi secat et tunc demum apparet quum in imum cursum sui venit;" and again (at vii., 27), "Cometes aternos esse et sortis ejusdem, cujus caetera (sidera), etiamsi faciem illis non habent similem." Pliny (ii., 25) also refers to Apollonius Myndius, when he says, "Sunt qui et haec sidera perpetua esse credant suoque ambitu ire, sed non nisi relicta a sole cerni."

p 104 The occulation of the fixed stars by the nucleus of a comet, or by its innermost vaporous envelopes, might throw some light on the physical character of these wonderful bodies; but we are unfortunately deficient in observations by which we may be assured* that the occulation was perfectly central; for, as it has already been observed, the parts of the envelope contiguous to the nucleus are alternately composed of layers of dense or very attenuated vapor.

[footnote] *Olbers, in 'Astr. Nachr.', 1828, s. 157, 184. Arago, 'De la Constitution physique des Cometes; Annuaire de' 1832, p. 203, 208. The ancients were struck by the phenomenon that it was possible to see through comets as through a flame. The earliest evidence to be met with of stars having been seen through comets is that of Democritus (Aristot., 'Meteor.', i., 6, 11), and the statement leads Aristotle to make the not unimportant remark, that he himself had observed the occulation of one of the stars of Gemini by Jupiter. Seneca only speaks decidedly of the transparence of the tail of comets. "We may see," says he, "stars through a comet as through a cloud ('Nat. Quaest.', vii., 18); but we can ony see through the rays of the tail, and not through the body of the comet itself: 'non in ea parte qua sidus ipsum est spissi et solidi ignis, sed qua rarus splendor occurrit et in crines dispergitur. Per intervalla ignium, non er ipsos, vides" (vii., 26). The last remark is unnecessary, since, as Galileo observed in the 'Saggiatore (Lettera a Monsignor Cesarini', 1619), we can certainly see through a flame when it is not of too great a thickness'.

On the other hand the carefully conducted measurements of Bessel prove, beyond all doubt, that on the 29th of September, 1835, the light of a star of the tenth magnitude, which was then at a distance of 7".78 from the central point of the head of Halley's comet, passed through very dense nebulous matter, without experiencing any deflection during its passage.*

[footnote] *Bessel, in the 'Astron. Nachr.', 1836, No. 301, s. 204, 206. Struve, in 'Recueil des Mem. de l'Acad. de St. Peterab.', 1836, p. 140, 143, and 'Astr. Nachr.', 1836, No. 303, s. 238, writes as follows: "At Dorpat the star was in conjunction only 2".2 from the brightest point of the comet. The star remained continually visible, and its light was not perceptibly diminished, while the nucleus of the comet seemed to be almost extinguished before the radiance of the small star of the ninth or tenth magnitude."

If such an absence of refracting power must be ascribed to the nucleus of a comet, we can scarcely regard the matter composing comets as a gaseous fluid. The question here arises whether this absence of refracting power may not be owing to the extreme tenuity of the fluid; or does the comet consist of separated particles, constituting a cosmical stratum of clouds, which, like the clouds of our atmosphere, that exercise no influence on the p 105 zenith distance of the stars, does not affect the ray of light passing through it? In the passage of a comet over a star, a more or less considerable diminution of light has often been observed; but this has been justly ascribed to the brightness of the ground from which the star seems to stand forth during the passage of the comet.

The most important and decisive observations that we possess on the nature and the light of comets are due to Arago's polarization experiments. His polariscope instructs us regarding the physical constitution of the Sun and comets, indicating whether a ray that reaches us from a distance of many millions of miles transmits light directly or by reflection; and if the former, whther the source of light is a solid, a liquid, or a gaseous body. His apparatus was used at the Paris Observatory in examining the light of Capella and that of the great comet of 1819. The latter showed polarized, and therefore reflected light, while the fixed star, as was to be expected, appeared to be a self-luminous sun.*

[footnote] *On the 3d of July, 1819, Arago made the first attempt to analyze the light of comets by polarization, on the evening of the sudden appearance of the great comet. I was present at the Paris Observatory, and was fully convinced, as were also Matthieu and the late Bouvard of the dissimilarity in the intensity of the light seen in the polariscope, when the instrument received cometary light. When it received light from Capella, which was near the comet, and at an equal altitude, the images were of equal intensity. On the reappearance of Halley's comet in 1835, the instrument was altered so as to give, according to Arago's chromatic polarization, two images of complementary colors (green and red). ('Annales de Chimie', t. xiii., p. 108; 'Annuaire', 1832, p. 216.) "We must conclude from these observations," says Arago, "that the cometary light was not entirely composed of rays having the properties of direct light, there being light which was reflected specularly or polarized, that is, coming from the sun. It can not be stated with absolute certainty that comets shine only with borrowed light, for bodies, in becoming self-luminous, do not, on that account, lose the power of reflecting foreign light."

The existance of polarized cometary light announced itself not only by the inequality of the images, but was proved with greater certainty on the reappearance of Halley's comet, in the year 1835, by the more striking contrast of the complementary colors, deduced from the laws of chromatic polarization discovered by Arago in 1811. These beautiful experiments still leave it undecided whether, in addition to this reflected solar light, comets may not have light of their own. Even in the case of the planets, as, for instance, in Venus, an evolution of independent light seems very probable.

The variable intensity of light in comets can not always be p 106 explained by the position of their orbits and their distance from the Sun. It would seem to indicate, in some individuals, the existence of an inherent process of condensation, and an increased or diminished capacity of reflecting borrowed light. In the comet of 1618, and in that which has a period of three years, it was observed first by Hevelius that the nucleus of the comet diminished at its perihelion and enlarged at its aphelion, a fact which, after remaining long unheeded, was again noticed by the talented astronomer Valz at Nismes. The regularity of the change of volume, according to the different degrees of distance from the Sun, appears very striking. The physical explanation of the phenomenon can not, however, be sought in the condensed layers of cosmical vapor occurring in the vicinity of the Sun, since it is difficult to imagine the nebulous envelope of the nucleus of the comet to be vesicular and impervious to the other.*

[footnote] *Arago, in the 'Annuaire', 1832, p. 217-220. Sir John Herschel, 'Astron.', 488.

The dissimilar eccentricity of the orbits of comets has, in recent times (1819), in the most brilliant manner enriched our knowledge of the solar system. Encke has discovered the existence of a comet of so short a period of revolution that it remains entirely within the limits of our planetary system, attaining its aphelion between the orbits of the smaller planets and that of Jupiter. Its eccentricity must be assumed at 0.845, that of Juno (which has the greatest eccentricity of any of the planets) being 0.255. Encke's comet has several times, although with difficulty, been observed by the naked eye, as in Europe in 1819, and according to Rumker, in New Holland in 1822. Its period of revolution is about 3 1/3d years; but, from a careful comparison of the epochs of its return to its perihelion, the remarkable fact has been discovered that these periods have diminished in the most regular manner between the years 1786 and 1838, the diminution amounting, in the course of 52 years, to about 1 3/10th days. The attempt to bring into unison the results of observation and calculation in the investigation of all the planetary disturbances, with the view of explaining this phenomenon, has led to the adoption of the very probable hypothesis that there exists dispersed in space a vaporous substance capable of acting as a resisting medium. This matter diminished the tangential force, and with it the major axis of the comet's orbit. The value of the constant of the resistance appears to be somewhat different before and after the perihelion; and this may, perhaps, be ascribed p 107 to the altered form of the small nebulous star in the vicinity of the Sun, and to the action of the unequal density of the strata of cosmical ether.*

[footnote] *Encke, in the 'Astronomiche Nachrichten', 1843, No. 489, s. 130-132.

These facts, and the investigations to which they have led, belong to the most interesting results of modern astronomy. Encke's comet has been the means of leading astronomers to a more exact investigation of Jupiter's mass (a most important point with reference to the calculation of perturbations); and, more recently, the course of this comet has obtained for us the first determination, although only an approximative one, of a smaller mass for Mercury.

The discovery of Encke's comet, which had a period of only 3 1/3d years, was speedily followed, in 1826, by that of another, Biela's comet, whose period of revolution is 6 3/4th years, and which is likewise planetary, having its aphelion beyond the orbit of Jupiter, but within that of Saturn. It has a fainter light than Encke's comet, and, like the latter, its motion is direct, while Halley's comet moves in a course opposite to that pursued by the planets. Biela's comet presents the first certain example of the orbit of a comet intersecting that of the Earth. This position, with reference to our planet, may therefore be productive of danger, if we can associate an idea of danger with so extraordinary a natural phenomenon, whose history presents no parallel, and the results of which we are consequently unable correctly to estimate. Small masses endowed with enormous velocity may certainly exercise a considerable power; but Laplace has shown that the mass of the comet of 1770 is probably not equal to 1/5000th that of the Earth, or about 1/2000th that of the Moon.*

[footnote] *Laplace, 'Expos. du Syst. du Monde', p. 216, 237.

We must not confound the passage of Biela's comet through the Earth's orbit with its proximity to, or collision with our globe. When this passage took place, on the 29th of October, 1832, it required a full month before the Earth would reach the point of intersection of the two orbits. These two comets of short periods of revolution also intersect each other, and it has been justly observed,* that amid the many perturbations experienced by such small bodies from the largr planets, there is a 'possibility' -- supposing a meeting of these comets to occur in October -- that the inhabitants of the Earth may witness the extraordinary spectacle of an encounter between two cosmical bodies, and possibly of their reciprocal penetration and amalgamation, or of their destruction by means of exhausting emanations.

[footnote] *Littrow, 'Beschreibende Astron.', 1835, s. 274. On the inner comet recently discovered by M. Faye, at the Observatory of Paris, and whose eccentricity is 0.551, its distance at its perihelion 1.690, and its distance at its aphelion 5.832, see Schumacher, 'Astron. Nachr.', 1844, No. 495. Regarding the supposed identity of the comet of 1766 with the third comet of 1819, see 'Astr. Nachr.', 1833, No. 239; and on the identity of the comet of 1743 and the fourth comet of 1819, see No. 237 or the last mentioned work.

Events of this nature, resulting either from deflection occasioned by disturbing masses or primevally intersecting orbits, must have been of frequent occurrence in the course of millions of years in the immeasurable regions of ethereal space; but they must be regarded as isolated occurrences, exercising no more general or alternative effects on cosmical relations than the breaking forth or extinction of a volcano within the limited sphere of our Earth.

A third interior comet, having likewise a short period of revolution was discovered by Faye on the 22d of November, 1843, at the Observatory at Paris. Its elliptic path, which approaches much more nearly to a circle than that of any other known comet, is included within the orbits of Mars and Saturn. This comet, therefore, which, according to Goldschmidt, passes beyond the orbit of Jupiter, is one of the few whose perihelia are beyond Mars. Its period of revolution is 7 29/100 years, and it is not improbable that the form of its present orbit may be owing to its great approximation to Jupiter at the close of the year 1839.

If we consider the comets in their inclosed elliptic orbits as members of our solar system, and with respect to the length of their major axes, the amount of their eccentricity, and their periods of revolution, we shall probably find that the three planetary comets of Encke, Biela, and Faye are most nearly approached in these respects, first, by the comet discovered in 1766 by Messier, and which is regarded by Clausen as identical with the third comet of 1819; and next, by the fourth comet of the last-mentioned year, discovered by Blaupain, but considered by Clausen as identical with that of the year 1743, and whose orbit appears, like that of Lexell's comet, to have suffered great variations from the proximity and attraction of Jupiter. The two last-named comets would likewise seem to have a period of revolution not exceeding five or six years, and their aphelia are in the vicinity of Jupiter's orbit. Among the comets that have a period of revolution of from seventy to p 109 seventy-six years, the first in point of importance with respect to theoretical and physical astronomy is Halley's comet, whose last appearance, in 1835, was much less brilliant than was to be expected from preceding ones; next we would notice Olbers's comet, discovered on the 6th of March, 1815; and, lastly, the comet discovered by Pons in the year 1812, and whose elliptic orbit has been determined by Encke. The two latter comets were invisible to the naked eye. We now know with certainty of nine returns of Halley's large comet, it having recently been proved by Laugier's calculations*, that in the Chinese table of comets, first made known to us by Edward Biot, the comet of 1378 is identical with Halley's; its periods of revolution have varied in the interval between 1378 and 1835 from 74.91 to 77.58 years, the mean being 76.1.

[footnote] *Laugier, in the 'Comptes Rendus des Seances de l'Academie', 1843, t. xvi., p. 1006.

A host of other comets may be contrasted with the cosmical bodies of which we have spoken, requiring several thousand years to perform their orbits, which it is difficult to determine with any degree of certainty. The beautiful comet of 1811 requires, according to Argelander, a period of 3065 years for its revolution, and the colossal one of 1680 as much as 8800 years, according to Encke's calculation. These bodies respectively recede, therefore, 21 and 44 times further than Uranus from the Sun, that is to say, 33,600 and 70,400 millions of miles. At this enormous distance the attractive force of the Sun is still manifested; but while the velocity of the comet of 1680 at its perihelion is 212 miles in a second, that is, thirteen times greater than that of the Earth, it scarcely moves ten feet in the second when at its aphelion. This velocity is only three times greater than that of water in our most sluggish European rivers, and equal only to half that which I have observed in the Cassiquiare, a branch of the Orinoco. It is highly probable that, among the innumerable host of uncalculated or undiscovered comets, there are many whose major axes greatly exceed that of the comet of 1680. In order to form some idea by numbers, I do not say of the sphere of attraction, but of the distance in space of a fixed star, or other sun, from the aphelion of the comet of 1680 (the furthest receding cosmical body with which we are acquainted in our solar system), it must be remembered that, according to the most recent determinations of parallaxes, the nearest fixed star is full 250 times further removed from our sun than the comet in its aphelion. The comet's distance is only 44 p 110 times that of Uranus, while 'a' Centauri is 11,000 and 61 Cygni 31,000 times that of Uranus, according to Bessel's determinations.

Having considered the greatest distances of comets from the central body, it now remains for us to notice instances of the greatest proximity hitherto measured. Lexell and Burckhardt's comet of 1770, so celebrated on account of the disturbances it experienced from Jupiter, has approached the Earth within a smaller distance than any other comet. On the 28th of June, 1770, its distance from the Earth was ony six times than of the Moon. The same comet passed twice, viz., in 1769 and 1779, through the system of Jupiter's four satellites without producing the slightest notable change in the well-known orbits of these bodies. The great comet of 1680 approached at its perihelion eight or nine times nearer to the surface of the Sun than Lexell's comet did to that of our Earth, being on the 17th of December a sixth part of the Sun's diameter, or seven tenths of the distance of the Moon from that luminary. Perihelia occurring beyond the orbit of Mars can seldom be observed by the inhabitants of the Earth, owing to the faintness of the light of distant comets; and among those already calculated the comet of 1729 is the only one which has its perihelion between the orbits of Pallas and Jupiter; it was even observed beyond the latter.

Since scientific knowledge, although frequently blended with vague and superficial views, has been more extensively diffused through wider circles of social life, apprehensions of the possible evils threatened by comets have acquired more weight as their direction has become more definite. The certainty that there are within the known planetary orbits comets which revisit our regions of space at short intervals -- that great disturbances have been produced by Jupiter and Saturn in their orbits, by which such as were apparently harmless have been converted into dangerous bodies -- the intersection of the Earth's orbit by Biela's comet -- the cosmical vapor, which, acting as a resisting and impeding medium, tends to contract all orbits -- the individual difference of comets, which would seem to indicate considerable decreasing gradations in the quantity of the mass of the nucleus, are all considerations more than equivalent, both as to number and variety, to the vague fears entertained in early ages of the general conflagration of the world by 'flaming swords', and stars with 'fiery streaming hair'. As the consolatory considerations which may be derived from the calculus of probabilities address themselves to reason and to p 111 meditative understanding only, and not to the imagination or to a desponding condition of mind, modern science has been accused, and not entirely without reason, of not attempting to allay apprehensions which it has been the very means of exciting. It is an inherent attribute of the human mind to experience fear, and not hope or joy, at the aspect of that which is unexpected and extraordinary.*

[footnote] *Fries, 'Vorlesungen uber die Sternkunde', 1833, s. 262-267 (Lectures on the Science of Astronomy). An infelicitously chosen instance of the good omen of a comet may be found in Seneca, 'Nat. Quest.', vii., 17 and 21. The philosopher thus writes of the comet: "Quem nos Neronis principatu latissimo vidimus et qui cometis detraxit infamiam."

The strange form of a large comet, its faint nebulous light, and its sudden appearance in the vault of heaven, have in all regions been almost invariably regarded by the people at large as some new and formidable agent inimical to the existing state of things. The sudden occurrence and short duration of the phenomenon lead to the belief of some equally rapid reflection of its agency in terrestrial matters, whose varied nature renders it easy to find events that may be regarded as the fulfillment of the evil foretold by the appearance of these mysterious cosmical bodies. In our own day, however, the public mind has taken another and more cheerful, although singular, turn with regard to comets; and in the German vineyards in the beautiful valleys of the Rhine and Moselle, a belief has arisen, ascribing to these once ill-omened bodies a beneficial influence on the ripening of the vine. The evidence yielded by experience, of which there is no lack in these days, when comets may so frequently be observed, has not been able to shake the common belief in the meteorological myth of the existence of wandering stars capable of radiating heat.

This material taken from pages 111- 147

COSMOS: A Sketch of the Physical Description of the Universe, Vol. 1 by Alexander von Humboldt

Translated by E C Otte

from the 1858 Harper & Brothers edition of Cosmos, volume 1 --------------------------------------------------

From comets I would pass to the consideration of a far more enigmatical class of agglomerated matter -- the smallest of all asteroids, to which we apply the name 'aërolites', or 'meteoric stones',* when they reach our atmosphere in a fragmentary condition.

[footnote] * (Much valuable information may be obtained regarding the origin and composition of aërolites or meteoric stones in Memoirs on the subject, by Baumbeer and other writers, in the numbers of Poggendorf's 'Annalen', from 1845 to the present time.) -- Tr.

If I should seem to dwell on the specific enumeration of these bodies, and of comets, longer than the general nature of this work might warrant, I have not done so undesignedly. The diversity existing in the individual characteristics of comets has already been noticed. The imperfect knowledge we possess of their physical character renders it p 112 diifficult in a work like the present, to give the proper degree of circumstantiality to the phenomena, which, although of frequent recurrence, have been observed with such various degrees of accuracy, or to separate the necessary from the accidental. It is only with respect to measurements and computations that the astronomy of comets has made any marked advancement, and, consequently, a scientific consideration of these bodies must be limited to a specification of the differences of physiognomy and conformation in the nucleus and tail, the instances of great approximation to other cosmical bodies, and of the extremes in the length of their orbits and in their periods of revolution. A faithful delineation of these phenomena, as well as of those which we proceed to consider, can only be given by sketching individual features with the animated circumstantiality of reality.

Shooting stars, fire-balls, and meteoric stones are, with great probability, regarded as small bodies moving with planetary velocity, and revolving in obedience to the laws of general gravity in conic sections round the Sun. When these masses meet the Earth in their course, and are attracted by it, they enter within the limits of our atmosphere in a luminous condition, and frequently let fall more or less strongly heated stony fragments, covered with a shining black crust. When we enter into a careful investigation of the facts observed at those epochs when showers of shooting stars fell periodically in Cumana in 1799, and in North America during the years 1833 and 1834, we shall find that 'fire-balls' can not be considered separately from shooting stars. Both these phenomena are frequently not only simultaneous and blended together, but they likewise are often found to merge into one another, the one phenomenon gradually assuming the character of the other alike with respect to the size of their disks, the emanation of sparks, and the velocities of their motion. Although exploding smoking luminous fire-balls are sometimes seen, even in the brightness of tropical daylight,* equaling in size the apparent p 113 diameter of the Moon, innumerable quantities of shooting stars have, on the other hand, been observed to fall in forms of such extremely small dimensions that they appear only as moving points or 'phosphorescent lines.'**

[footnote] *A friend of mine, much accustomed to exact trigonometrical measurements, was in the year 1788 at Popayan, a city which is 2 degrees 26' north latitude, lying at an elevation of 5583 feet above the level of the sea, and at noon, when the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky, saw his room lighted up by a fire-ball. He had his back to the window at the time, and on turning round, perceived that great part of the path traversed by the fire-ball was still illuminated by the brightest radiance. Different nations have had the most various terms to express these phenomena: The Germans use the word 'Sternschnuppe', literally 'star snuff' -- an expression well suited to the physical views of the vulgar in former times, according to which, the lights in the firmament were said to undergo a process of 'snuffing' or cleaning; and other nations generally adopt a term expressive of a 'shot' or 'fall' of stars, as the Swedish 'stjernifall', the Italian 'stella cadente', and the English 'star shoot.' In the woody district of the Orinoco, on the dreary banks of the Cassiquiare, I heard the natives in the Mission of Vasiva use terms still more inelegant than the German 'star snuff.' ('Relation Historique du Voy. aux Régions Equinox.', t. ii., p. 513.) These same tribes term the pearly drops of dew which cover the beautiful leaves of the heliconia 'star spit.' In the Lithuanian mythology, the imagination of the people has embodied its ideas of the nature and signification of falling stars under nobler and more graceful symbols. The Parcæ, 'Werpeja', weave in heaven for the new-born child its thread of fate, attaching each separate thread to a star. When death approaches the person, the thread is rent, and the star wanes and sinks to the earth. Jacob Grimm, 'Deutsche Mythologie', 1843, s. 685.

[footnote] ** According to the testimony of Professor Denison Olmsted, of Yale College, New Haven, Connecticut. (See Poggend., 'Annalen der Physik', bd. xxx., s. 194.) Kepler, who excluded fire-balls and shooting stars from the domain of astronomy, because they were, according to his views, "meteors arising from the exhalations of the earth, and blending with the higher ether," expresses himself, however, generally with much caution. He says: "Stellæ cadentes sunt materia viscida inflammata. Earum aliquæ inter cadendum absumuntur, aliquæ verè in terram cadunt, pondere suo tractæ. Nec est dissimile vero, quasdam conglobatas esse ex materia fæculentâ, in ipsam auram ætheream immixta: exque aëtheris regione, tractu rectilineo, per aërem trajicere, ceu minutos competas, occultâ causa motus utrorumque." -- Kepler, 'Epit. Astron. Copernicanæ', t. i., p. 80.

It still remains undertermined whether the many luminous bodies that shoot across the sky may not vary in their nature. On my return from the equinoctial zones, I was impressed with an idea that in the torrid regions of the tropics I had more frequently than in our colder latitudes seen shooting stars fall as if from a height of twelve or fifteen thousand feet; that they were of brighter colors, and left a more brilliant line of light in their track; but this impression was no doubt owing to the greater transparency of the tropical atmosphere*, which enables the eye to penetrate further into distance.

[footnote] *'Relation Historique', t. i., p. 80, 213, 527. If in falling stars, as in comets, we distinguish between the head or nucleus and the tail, we shall find that the greater transparency of the atmosphere in tropical climates is evinced in the greater length and brilliancy of the tail which may be observed in those latitudes. The phenomenon is therefore not necessarily more frequent there, because it is oftener seen and continues longer visible. The influence exercised on shooting stars by the character of the atmosphere is shown occasionally even in our temperate zone, and at very small distances apart. Wartmann relates that on the occasion of a November phenomenon at two places lying very near each other, Geneva and Aux Planchettes, the number of the meteors counted were as 1 to 7. (Wartmann, 'Mém. sur les Etoiles filantes', p. 17.) The tail of a shooting star (or its 'train'), on the subject of which Brandes has made so many exact and delicate observations, is in no way to be ascribed to the continuance of the impression produced by light on the retina. It sometimes continues visible a whole minute, and in some rare instances longer than the light of the nucleus of the shooting star; in which case the luminous track remains motionless. (Gilb., 'Ann.', bd. xiv., s. 251.) This circumstance further indicates the analogy between large shooting stars and fire-balls. Admiral Krusenstern saw, in his voyage round the world, the train of a fire-ball shine for an hour after the lluminous body itself had disappeared, and scarcely move throughout the whole time. ('Reise', th. i., s. 58.) Sir Alexander Burnes gives a charming description of the transparency of the clear atmosphere of Bokhara, which was once so favorable to the pursuit of astronomical observations. Bokhara is situated in 39 degrees 48' north latitude, and at an elevation of 1280 feet above the level of the sea. "There is a constant serenity in its atmosphere, and an admirable clearness in the sky. At night, the stars have uncommon luster, and the Milky Way shines gloriously in the firmament. There is also a never-ceasing display of the most brilliant meteors, which dart like rockets in the sky; ten or twelve of them are sometimes seen in an hour, assuming every color -- fiery red, blue, pale, and faint. It is a noble country for astronomical science, and great must have been the advantage enjoyed by the famed observatory of Samarkand." (Burnes, 'Travels into Bokhara', vol. ii. (1834), p. 158.) A mere traveler must not be reproached for calling ten or twelve shooting stars in an hour "many," since it is only recently that we have learned, from careful observations on this subject in Europe, that eight is the mean number which may be seen in an hour in the field of vision of one individual (Quetelet, 'Corresp. Mathém.', Novem., 1837, p. 447); this number is, however, limited to five or six by that diligent observer, Olbers. (Schum., 'Jahrb.', 1838, s. 325.)

p 114 Sir Alexander Burnes likewise extols as a consequence of the purity of the atmosphere in Bokhara the enchanting and constantly-recurring spectacle of variously-colored shooting stars.

The connection of meteoric stones with the grander phenomenon of fire-balls -- the former being known to be projected from the latter with such force as to penetrate from ten to fifteen feet into the earth -- has been proved, among many other instances, in the falls of azzzuerolites at Barbotan, in the Department des Landes (24th July, 1790), at Siena (16th June, 1794), at Weston, in Connecticut, U. S. (14th December, 1807), and at Juvenas in the Department of Ardèche (14th June, 1821). Meteoric stones are in some instances thrown from dark clouds suddenly formed in a clear sky, and fall with a noise resembling thunder. Whole districts have thus occasionally been covered with thousands of fragmentary masses, of uniform character but unequal magnitudes, that p 115 have been hurled from one of these moving clouds. In less frequent cases, as in that which occurred on the 16th of September, 1843, at Kleinwenden, near Mühilhausen, a large aërolite fell with a thundering crash while the sky was clear and cloudless. The intimate affinity between fire-balls and shooting stars is further proved by the fact that fire-balls, from which meteoric stones have been thrown have occasionally been found, as at Angers, on the 9th of June, 1822, having a diameter scarcely equal to that of the small fire-works called Roman candles.

The formative power, and the nature of the physical and chemical processes involved in these phenomena are questions all equally shrouded in mystery, and we are as yet ignorant whether the particles composing the dense mass of meteoric stones are originally, as in comets, separated from one another when they become luminous to our sight, or whether in the case of smaller shooting stars, any compace substance actually falls, or, finally, whether a meteor is composed only of a smoke-like dust, containing iron and nickel; while we are wholly ignorant of what takes place within the dark cloud from which a noise like thunder is often heard for many minutes before the stones fall.*

[footnote] *On 'méteoric dust', see Arago, in the 'Annuaire' for 1832, p. 254. I haave very recently endeavored to show, in another work ('Asie Centrale', t. i., p. 408). how the Scythian saga of the sacred gold, which fell burning from heaven, and remained in the possession of the Golden Horde of the Paralatæ (Herod., iv., 5-7), probably originated in the vague recollection of the fall of an aërolite. The ancients had also some strange fictions (Dio Cassius, lxxv., 1259) or silver which had fallen from heaven, and with which it had been attempted, under the Emperor Severus, to cover bronze coins; metallic iron was however, known to exist in meteoric stones. (Plin., ii., 56.) The frequently-recurring expression 'lapidibus pluit' must not always be understood to refer to falls of aërolites. In Liv., xxv., 7, it probably refers to pumice ('rapilli') ejected from the volcano, Mount Albanus (Monte Cavo), which was not wholly extinguished at the time. (See Heyne, 'Opuscula Acad.', t. iii., p. 261; and my 'Relation Hist.', t. i., p. 394.) The contest of Hercules with the Ligyans, on the road from the Caucasus to the Hesperides, belongs to a different sphere of ideas, being an attempt to explain mythically the origin of the round quartz blocks in the Ligyan field of stones at the mouth of the Rhone, which Aristotle supposes to have been ejected from a fissure during an earthquake, and Posidonius to have been caused by the force of the waves of an inland piece of water. In the fragments that we still possess of the play of Æschylus, the 'Prometheus Delivered', every thing proceeds, however, in part of the narration, as in a fall of aërolites, for Jupiter draws together a cloud, and causes the "district around to be covered by a shower of round stones". Posidonius even ventured to deride the geognostic myth of the blocks and stones. The Lygian field of stones was, however, very naturally and well described by the ancients. The district is now known as 'La Crau.' (See Guerin, 'Mesures Barométriques dans les Alpes, et Météorologie d'Avignon', 1829, chap. xii., p. 115.)

p 116 We can ascertain by measurement the enormous, wonderful, and wholly planetary velocity of shooting stars, fire-valls and meteoric stones, and we can gain a knowledge of what is the general and uniform character of the phenomenon, but not of the genetically cosmical process and the results of the metamorphoses. If meteoric stones while revolving in space are already consolidated into dense masses,* less dense, however, p 117 than the mean density of the earth, they must be very small nuclei, which surrounded by inflammable vapor or gas, form the innermost part of fire-balls, from the height and apparent diameter of which we may, in the case of the largest, estimate that the actual diameter varies from 500 to about 2800 feet.

[footnote] *The specific weight of aërolites varies from 1.9 (Alais) to 4.3 (Tabor). Their general density may be set down as 3, water being 1. As to what has been said in the text of the actual diameters of fire-balls, we must remark, that the numbers have been taken from the few measurements that can be relied upon as correct. These give for the fire-ball of Weston, Connecticut (14th December, 1807), only 500; for that observed by Le Roi (10th July, 1771) about 1000 and for that estimated by Sir Charles Blagden (18th January, 1783) 2600 feet in diameter. Brandes ('Unterhaltungen' bd.i., s. 42) ascribes a diameter varying from 80 to 120 feet to shooting stars, and a luminous train extending from 12 to 16 miles. There are, however, ample optical causes for supposing that the apparent diameter of fire-balls and shooting stars has been very much overrated. The volume of the largest fire-ball yet observed can not be compared with that of Ceres, estimating generally so exact and admirable treatise, 'On the Connection of the Physical Sciences', 1835, p. 411.) With the view of elucidating what has been stated in the text regarding the large zërolite that fell into the bed of the River Narni, but has not again been found, I will give the passage made known by Pertz, from the 'Chronicon Benedicti, Monachi Sancti Andreæ in Mont Soracte', a MS. belonging to the tenth century, and preserved in the Chigi Library at Rome. The Barbarous Latin of that age has been left unchanged. "Anno 921, temporibus domini Johannis Decimi pape, in anno pontificatus illius 7 visa sunt signa. Nam juxta urben Romam lapides plurimi de cælo cadere visi sunt. In civilate quæ vocatur Narnia tam diri ac tetri, ut nihil aliud credatur, quam de infernalibus locis deducti essent. Nam ita ex illis lapidibus unus omnium maximum est, ut decidens in flumen Narnus, ad mensuram unius cubiti super aquas fluminus usque hodie videretur. Nam et ignitæita ut pene terra contingeret. AliAnno 921, temporibus domini Johannis Decimi pape, in anno pontificatus illius 7 visa sunt signa. Nam juxta urben Romam lapides plurimi de cælo cadere visi sunt. In civilate quæ vocatur Narnia tam diri ac tetri, ut nihil aliud credatur, quam de infernalibus locis deducti essent. Nam ita ex illis lapidibus unus omnium maximum est, ut decidens in flumen Narnus, ad mensuram unius cubiti super aquas fluminus usque hodie videretur. Nam et ignitæ ita ut pene terra contingeret. Ali cadentes," etc. (Pertz, 'Monum. Germ. Hist. Scriptores', t. iii., p. 715.) On the aërolites of gos Potamus, which fell, according to the Parian Chroniccle, in the 78 1 Olympiad, see Böckh, 'Corp. Inscr. Graec', t. ii., p. 302, 320, 340; also Aristot., 'Meteor.', i., 7 (Ideler's 'Comm.', t. i., p. 404-407); Stob., 'Eel. Phys.', i., 25, p. 508 (Heeren); Plut., 'Lys.', c. 12; Diog. Laert., ii., 10; and see, also, subsequent notes in this work. According to a Mongolisn tradition, a black fragment of a rock, forty feet in height, fell from heaven on a plain near the source of the Great Yellow River in Western China. (Abel Rémusat, in Lamétherie, 'Jour. de Phys.', 1819, Mai p. 264.)

The largest meteoric masses as yet known are those of Otumpa, in Chaco, and of Bahia, in Brazil, described by Rubi de Celis as being from 7 to 7 1/2 feet in length. The meteoric stone of gos Potamos, celebrated in antiquity, and even mentioned in the Chronicle of the Parian Marbles, which fell about the year in which Socrates was born, has been described as of the size of two mill-stones, and equal in weight to a full wagon load. Notwithstanding the failure that has attended the efforts of the African traveler, Brown, I do not wholly relinquish the hope that, even after the lapse of 2312 years, this Thracian meteoric mass, which it would be so difficult to destroy, may be found, since the region in which it fell is now bcome so easy of access to European travelers. The huge aërolite which in the beginning of the tenth century fell into the river at Narni, projected between three and four feet above the surface of the water, as we learn from a document lately discovered by Pertz. It must be remarked that these meteoric bodies, whether in ancient or modern times can only be regarded as the principal fragments of masses that have been broken up by the explosion either of a fire-ball of a dark cloud.

On considering the enormous velocity with which, as has been mathematically proved, meteoric stones reach the earth from the extremest confines of the atmosphere, and the lengthened course traversed by fire-balls through the denser strata of the air, it seems more than improbable that these metalliferous stony masses, containing perfectly-formed crystals of olivine, labradorite, and pyroxene, should in so short a period of time has been converted from a vaporous condition to a solid nucleus. Moreover, that which falls from meteoric masses, even where the internal composition is chemically different, exhibits almost always the peculiar character of a fragment, being of a prismatic or truncated pyramidal form, with broad, somewhat curved faces, and rounded angles. But whence comes this form, which was first recognized by Schreiber as characteristic of the 'severed' part of a rotating planetary body? Here, as in the sphere of organic life, all that appertains to the history of development remains hidden in obscurity. Meteoric masses become luminous and kindle at heights which p 118 must be regarded as almost devoid of air, of occupied by an atmosphere that does not even contain 1/100000th part of oxygen. The recent investigations of Biot on the important phenomenon of twilight* have considerably lowered the lines which had, perhaps with some degree of temerity, been usually termed the boundaries of the atmosphere; but processes of light may be evolved independently of the presence of oxygen, and Poisson conjectured that aëroliteswere ignited far beyond the range of our atmosphere. Numerical calculation and geometrical measurement are the only means by which as in the case of the larger bodies of our solar system, we are enabled to impart a firm and safe basis to our investigations of meteoric stones.

[footnote] *Biot, 'Traité d'Astronomie Physique' (3ème éd.), 1841, t. i., p. 149, 177, 238, 312. My lamented friend Poisson endeavored, in a singular manner, to solve the difficulty attending an assumption of the spontaneous ignition of meteoric stones at an elevation where the density of the atmosphere is almost null. These are his words: "It is difficult to attribute, as is uaually done, the incandescence of aërolites to friction against the molecules of the atmosphere at an elevation above the earth where the density of the air is almost null. May we not suppose that the electric fluid, in a neutral condition, forms a kind of atmosphere, extending far beyond the mass of our atmosphere, yet subject to terrestrial attraction, although physically imponderable, and consequently following our globe in its motion? According to this hypothesis, the bodies of which we have been speaking would, on entering this imponderable atmosphere, decompose the neutral fluid by their unequal action on the two electricities, and they would thus be heated, and in a state of incandescence, by becoming electrified." (Poisson, 'Rech. sur la Probabilité des Jugements', 1837, p. 6.)

Although Halley pronounced the great fire-ball of 1686, whose motion was opposite to that of the earth in its orbit,* to be a cosmical body, Chadni, in 1794, first recognized, with ready acuteness of mind, the connection between fire-balls and the stones projected from the atmosphere, and the motions of the former bodies in space.**

[footnote] *'Philos. Transact.', vol. xxix., p. 161-163.

[footnote] **The first edition of Chlandni's important treatise, 'Ueber den Ursprung der von Pallas gefundenen und anderen Eisenmassen' (On the Origin of the masses of Iron found by Pallas, and other similar masses), appeared two months prior to the shower of stones at Siena, and two years before Lichtenberg stated, in the 'Güttingen Taschenbuch', that "stones reach our atmosphere from the remoter regions of space.' Comp., also, Olbers's letter to Benzenberg, 18th Nov., 1837, in Benzenberg's 'Treatise on Shooting Stars', p. 186.

A brilliant confirmation of the cosmical origin of these phenomena has been afforded by Denison Olmsted, at New Haven, Connecticut, who has shown on the concurrent authority of all eye-witnesses, that during the celebrated fall of shooting stars on the night between the 12th p 119 and 13th of November, 1833, the fire-balls and shooting stars all emerged from one and the same quarter of the heavens, namely, in the vicinity of the star 'gamma' in the constellation Leo, and did not deviate from this point, although the star changed its apparent height and azimuth during the time of the observation. Such an independence of the Earth's rotation shows that the luminous body must have reached our atmosphere from 'without.' According to Encke's computation* of the whole p 120 number of observations made in the United States of North America, between the thirty-fifth and the forty-second degrees of latitude, it would appear that all these meteors came from the same point of space in the direction in which the Earth was moving at the time.

[footnote] *Encke, in Poggend., 'Annalen', bd. xxxiii. (1834), s. 213. Arago, in the 'Annuaire' for 1836, p. 291. Two letters which I wrote to Benzenberg, May 19 and October 22, 1837, on the conjectural precession of the nodes in the orbit of periodical falls of shooting stars. (Benzenberg's 'Sternsch.', s. 207 and 209.) Olbers subsequently adopted this opinion of the gradual retardation of the November phenomenon. ('Astron. Nachr.', 1838, No. 372, s. 180.) If I may venture to combine two of the falls of shooting stars mentioned by the Arabian writers with the epochs found by Boguslawski for the fourteenth century, I obtain the following more or less accordant elements of the movements of the nodes: In Oct., 902, on the night in which King Ibrahim ben Ahmed died, there fell a heavy shower of shooting stars, "like a fiery rain;" and this year was, therefore, called the year of stars. (Conde, 'Hist. de la Domin.' de los Arabes', p. 346.) On the 19th of Oct., 1202, the stars were in motion all night. "They fell like locusts." ('Comptes Rendus', 1837, t. i., p. 294; and Fræhn, in the 'Bull. de l'Académie de St. Pétersbourg', t. iii., p. 308.) On the 21st Oct., O.S., 1366, "'die sequente post festum XI. millia Virginum ab hora matutina usque ad horam primam visæ sunt quasi stellæ de cælo cadere continuo, et in tanta multitudine, quod nemo narrare suf ficit.'" This remarkable notice, of which we shall speak more fully in the subsequent part of this work, was found by the younger Von Boguslawski, in Benesse (de Horowic) de Weitmil or Weithmül, 'Chronicon Ecclesiæ Pragensis', p. 389. This chronicle may also be found in the second part of 'Scriptores rerum Bohemicarum', by Pelzel and Dobrowsky, 1784. (Schum., 'Astr. Nachr.', Dec., 1839.) On the night between the 9th and 10th of November, 1787, many falling stars were observed at Manheim, Southern Germany, by Hemmer (Kämtz, 'Meteor.', th. iii., s. 237.) After midnight, on the 12th of November, 1799, occurred the extraordinary fall of stars at Cumana, which Bonpland and myself have described, and which was observed over a great part of the earth. ('Relat. Hist.', t. i., p. 519-527.) Between the 12th and 13th of November, 1822, shooting stars, intermingled with fire-balls, were seen in large numbers by Kloden, at Potsdam. (Gilbert's 'Ann.', bd. lxxii., s. 291.) On the 13th of November, 1831, at 4 o'clock in the morning, a great shower of falling stars was seen by Captain Bérard, on the Spanish coast, near Carthagena del Levante. ('Annuaire', 1836, p. 297.) In the night between the 12th and 13th of November, 1833, occurred the phenomenon so admirably described by Professor Olmsted, in North America. In the night of the 13-14th of November, 1834, a similar fall of shooting stars was seen in North America, although the numbers were not quite so considerable. (Poggend., 'Annalen', bd. xxxiv., s. 129.) On the 13th of November, 1835, a barn was set on fire by the fall of a sporadic fire-ball, at Belley, in the Department de l'Ain. ('Annuaire', 1836, p. 296.) In the year 1838, the stream showed itself most decidedly on the night of the 13-14th of November. ('Astron. Nachr.', 1838, No. 372.)

On the recurrence of falls of shooting stars in North America, in the month of November of the years 1834 and 1837, and in the analogous falls observed at Bremen in 1838, a like general parallelism of the orbits, and the same direction of the meteors from the constellation Leo, were again noticed. It has been supposed that a greater parallelism was observable in the direction of periodic falls of shooting stars than in those of sporadic occurrence; and it has further been remarked, that in the periodically-recurring falls in the month of August, as, for instance, in the year 1839, the meteors came principally from one point between Perseus and Taurus, toward the latter of which constellations in the Earth was then moving. This peculiarity of the phenomenon, manifested in the retrograde direction of the orbits in November and August, should be thoroughly investigated by accurate observations, in order that it may either be fully confirmed or refuted.

The heights of shooting stars, that is to say, the heights of the points at which they begin and cease to be visible, vary exceedingly, fluctuating between 16 and 140 miles. This important result, and the enormous velocity of these problematical asteroids, were first ascertained by Benzenberg and Brandes, by simultaneous observations and determinations of parallax at the extremities of a base line of 49,020 feet in length.*

[footnote] *I am well aware that, among the 62 shooting stars simultaneously observed in Silesia, in 1823, at the suggestion of Professor Brandes some appeared to have an elevation of 183 to 240, or even 400 miles. (Brandes, 'Unterhaltungen für Freunde der Astronomie und Physik', heft i., s. 48. Instructive Narratives for the Lovers of Astronomy and Physics.) But Olbers considered that all determinations for elevations beyond 120 miles must be doubtful, owing to the smallness of the parallax.

The relative velocity of motion is from 18 to 36 miles in a second, and consequently equal to planetary velocity. This planetary velocity,* as well as the direction of the orbits p 121 of fire-balls and shooting stars, which has frequently been observed to be opposite to that of the Earth, may be considered as conclusive arguments against the hypothesis that aërolites derive their origin from the so-called active 'lunar volcanoes.'

[footnote] *The planetary velocity of translation, the movement in the orbit, is in Mercury 26.4, in Venus 19.2, and in the Earth 16.4 miles in a second.

Numerical views regarding a greater or lesser volcanic force on a small cosmical body, not surrounded by any atmosphere, must, from their nature, be wholly arbitrary. We may imagine the reaction of the interior of a planet on its crust ten or even a hundred times greater than that of our present terrestrial volcanoes; the direction of masses projected from a satellite revolving from west to east might appear retrogressive, owing to the Earth in its orbit subsequently reaching that point of space at which these bodies fall. If we examine the whole sphere of relations which I have touched upon in this work, in order to escape the charge of having made unproved assertions, we shall find that the hypothesis of the selenic origin of meteoric stones* depends upon a number of conditions p 122 whose accidental coincidence could alone convert a possible into an actual fact.

[footnote] *Chladni states that an Italian physicist, Paolo Maria Terzago, on the occasion of the fall of an aërolite at Milan in 1660, by which a Franciscan monk was killed, was the first who surmised that aërolites were of selenic origin. He says, in a memoir entitled 'Musæum Septalianum, Manfredi Septalæ, Patricii Mediolanensis, industrioso labore constructum' (Tortona, 1664, p. 44), "Labant philosophorum mentes sub horum lapidum ponderibus; ni dicire velimus, lunan terram alteram, sine mundum esse, ex cujus montibus divisa frustra in inferiorem nostrum hunc orben dela bantur." Without any previous knowledge of this conjecture, Olbers was led, in the year 1795 (after the celebrated fall at Siena on the 16th of June, 1794), into an investigation of the amount of the initial tangential force that would be requisite to bring to the Earth masses projected from the Moon. This ballistic problem occupied, during ten or twelve years, the attention of the geometricians Laplace, Biot, Brandes, and Poisson. The opinion which was then so prevalent, but which has since been abandoned, of the existence of active volcanoes in the Moon, where air and water are absent, led to a confusion in the minds of the generality of persons between mathematical possibilities and physical probabilities. Olbers, Brandes, and Chladni thought "that the velocity of 16 to 32 miles, with which fire-balls and shooting stars entered our atmosphere," furnished a refutation to the view of their selenic origin. According to Olbers, it would require to reach the Earth, setting aside the resistance of the air, an initial velocity of 8292 feet in the second; according to Laplace, 7862; to Biot, 8282; and to Poisson, 7595. Laplace states that this velocity is only five or six times as great as that of a cannon ball; but Olbers has shown "that, with such an initial velocity as 7500 or 8000 feet in a second, meteoric stones would arrive at the surface of our earth with a velocity of only 35,000 feet (or 1.53 German geographical mile). But the measured velocity of meteoric stones averages five such miles, or upward of 114,000 feet to a second; and, consequently, the original velocity of projection from the Moon must be almost 110,000 feet, and therefore fourteen times greater than Laplace asserted." (Olbers, in Schum, 'Jahrb.', 1837, p. 52-58; and in Gehler, 'Neues Physik.' 'Wörterbuche', bd. vi., abth.3, s. 2199-2136.) If we could assume volcanic forces to be still active on the Moon's surface, the absence of atmospheric resistance would certainly give to their projectile force an advantage over that of our terrestrial volcanoes; but even in respect to the measure of the latter force (the projectile force of our own volcanoes), we have no observations on which any reliance can be placed, and it has probably been exceedingly overrated. Dr. Peters, who accurately observed and measured the phenomena presented by Ætna, found that the greatest velocity of any of the stones projected from the crater was only 1250 feet to a second. Observations on the Peak of Teneriffe, in 1798, gave 3000 feet. Although Laplace, at the end of his work ('Expos. du Syst. du Monde', ed. de 1824, p. 399), cautiously observes, regarding aërolites, "that in all probability they come from the depths of space," yet we see from another passage (chap. vi., p. 233) 6that, being probably unacquainted with the extraordinary planetary velocity of meteoric stones, he inclines to the hypothesis of their lunar origin, always, however, assuming that the stones projjected from the Moon "become satellites of our Earth, describing around it more or less eccentric orbits, and thus not reaching its atmosphere until several or even many revolutions have been accomplished." As an Italian at Tortona had the fancy that aërolites came from the Moon, so some of the Greek philosophers thought they came from the Sun. This was the opinion of Diogenes Laertius (ii., 9) regarding the origin of the mass that fell at "gos Potamos (see note, p. 116). Pliny, whose labors in recording the opinions and statements of preceding writers are astonishing, repeats the theory, and derides it the more freely, because he, with earlier writers (Diog. Laert., 3 and 5, p. 99, Hübner), accuses Anaxagoras of having predicted the fall of aërolites from the Sun: "Celebrant Græci Anaxagoram Clazomenium Olympiadis septuagesimæ octavæ secundo anno prædixisse cælestium litterarum scientia quibus diebus saxum casurum esse e sole, idque factum interdia in Thraciæ parte ad gos flumen. Quod si quis prædictum credat, simul fateatur necesse est, majoris miraculi divinitatem Anaxagoræ fuisse, solvique rerum naturæ intellectum, et confundi omnia, si aut ipse Sol lapis esse aut unquam lapidem in eo fuisse credatur; decidere tamen crebro non erit dubium." The fall of a moderate-sized stone, which is preserved in the Gymnasium at Abydos, is also reported to have been foretold by Anaxagoras. The fall of aërolites in bright sunshine, and when the Moon's disk was invisible, probably led to the idea of sun-stones. Moreover, according to one of the physical dogmas of Anaxagoras, which brought on him the persecution of the theologians (even as they have attacked the geologists of our own times), the Sun was regarded as "a molten fiery mass" ([Greed words]). In accordance with these views of Anaxagoras, we find Euripides, in 'Phaëton', terming the Sun "a golden mass;" that is to say, a fire-colored, brightly-shining matter, but not leading to the inference that aërolites are golden sun-stones. (See note to page 115.) Compare Valckenaer, 'Diatribe in Eurip. perd. Dram. Reliquias', 1767, p. 30. Diog. Laert., ii., 40. Hence, among the Greek philosophers, we find four hypotheses regarding the origin of falling stars: a telluric origin from ascending exhalations; masses of stone raised by hurricane (see Aristot., 'Meteor., lib. i., cap. iv., 2-13, and cap. vii., 9); a solar origin; and, lastly, an origin in the regions of space, as heavenly bodies which had long remained invisible. Respecting this last opinion, which is that of Diogenes of Apollonia, and entirely accords with that of the present day, see pages 124 and 125. It is worthy of remark, that in Syria, as I have been assured by a learned Orientalist, now resident at Smyrna, Andrea de Nericat, who instructed me in Persian, there is a popular belief that aërolites chiefly fall on clear moonlight nights. The ancients, on the contrary, especially looked for their fall during lunar eclipses. (See Pliny, xxxvii., 10, p. 164. Solinus, c. 37. Salm., 'Exere.', p. 531; and the passages collected by Ukert, in his 'Geogr. der Griechen und Römer', th. ii., 1, s. 131, note 14.) On the improbability that meteoric masses are formed from metal-dissolving gases, which, according to Fusinieri, may exist in the highest strata of our atmosphere, and previously diffused through an almost boundless space, may suddenly assume a solid condition, and on the penetration and misceability of gases, see my ' Relat. Hist.', t. i., p. 525.

p 122 The view of the original existence of p 123 small planetary masses in space is simpler, and at the same time, more analogous with those entertained concerning the formation of other portions of the solar system.

It is very probable that a large number of these cosmical bodies traverse space undestroyed by the vicinity of our atmosphere, and revolve round the Sun without experiencing any alteration but a slight increase in the eccentricity of their orbits, occasioned by the attraction of the Earth's mass. We may, consequently, suppose the possibility of these bodied remaining invisible to us during many years and frequent revolutions. The supposed phenomenon of ascending shooting stars and fire-balls, which Chladni has unsuccessfully endeavored to explain on the hypothesis of the 'reflection' of strongly compressed air, appears at first sight as the consequence of some unknown tngential force propelling bodies from the earth; but Bessel has shown by theoretical deductions, confirmed by Feldt's carefully-conducted calculations, that, owing to the absence of any proofs of the simultaneous occurrence of the observed disappearances, the assumptiopn of an ascent of shooting stars was rendered wholly improbable, and inadmissible as a result of observation.*

[footnote] *Bessel, in Schum., 'Astr. Nachr.', 1839, No 389 und 381, s. 222 und 346. At the conclusion of the Memoir there is a comparison of the Sun's longitudes with the epochs of the November phenomenon, from the period of the first observations in Cumana in 1799,

The opinion advanced by Olbers that the explosion of shooting stars and ignited fire-balls not moving in straight lines may impel meteors upward in the manner of rockets, and influence the direction of their orbits, must be made the subject of future researches.

Shooting stars fall either seprately and in inconsiderable numbers, that is, sporadically, or in swarms of many thousands. p 124 The latter, which are compared by Arabian authors to swarms of locusts, are periodic in their occurrence, and move in streams, generally in a parallel direction. Among periodic falls, the most celebrated are that known as the November phenomenon, occurring from about the 12th to the 14th of November, and that of the festival of St. Lawrence (the 10th of August), whose "fiery tears" were noticed in former times in a church calendar of England, no less than in old traditionary legends, as a meteorological event of constant recurrence.*

[footnote] *Dr. Thomas Forster ('The Pocket Encyclopedia of Natural Phenomena' 1827, p. 17) states that a manuscript is preserved in the library of Christ's College, Cambridge,** written in the tenth century by a monk, and entitled 'Ephemerides Rerum Naturalium', in which the natural phenomena for each day of the year are inscribed as, for instance, the first flowering of plants, the arrival of birds, etc.; the 10th of August is distinguished by the word "meteorodes." It was this indication, and the tradition of the fiery tears of St. Lawrence, that chiefly induced Dr. Forster to undertake his extremely zealous investigation of the August phenomena. (Quetelet, 'Correspond. Mathém.', Série III., t. i., 1837, p. 433.)

[further footnote] **[No such manuscript is at present known to exist in the library of that college. For this information I am indebted to the inquiries of Mr. Cory, of Pembroke College, the learned editor of 'Hieroglyphics of Horapollo Nilous', Greek and English, 1840.] -- Tr.

Notwithstanding the great quantity of shooting stars and fire-balls of the most various dimensions, which, according to Klöden, were seen to fall at Potsdam on the night between the 12th and 13th of November, 1822, and on the same night of the year in 1832 throughout the whole of Europe, from Portsmouth to Orenburg on the Ural River, and even in the southern hemisphere, as in the Isle of France, no attention was directed to the 'periodicity' of the phenomenon, and no idea seems to have been entertained of the connection existing between the fall of shooting stars and the recurrence of certain days, until the prodigious swarm of shooting stars which occurred in North America between the 12th and 13th of November, 1833, and was observed by Olmsted and Palmer. The stars fell on this occasion, like flakes of snow, and it was calculated that at least 240,000 had fallen during a period of nine hours. Palmer, of New Haven, Connecticut, was led, in consequence of this splendid phenomenon, to the recollection of the fall of meteoric stones in 1799, first described by Ellicot and myself,* and which, by p 125 a comparison of the facts I had adduced, showed that the phenomenon had been simultaneously seen in the New Continent, from the equator to New Herrnhut in Greenland (65 degrees 14' north latitude), and between 46 degrees and 82 degrees longitude.

[footnote] *Humb., 'Rel. Hist.', t. i., p. 519-527. Ellicot in the 'Transactions of the American Society', 1804, vol. vi., . 29. Arago makes the following observations in reference to the November phenomena: "We thus become more and more confirmed in the belief that there exists a zone composed of millions of small bodies, whose orbits cut the plane of the ecliptic at about the point which out Earth annually occupies between the 11th and 13th of November. It is a new planetary world beginning to be revealed to us." ('Annuaire', 1836, p. 296.)

The identity of the epochs was recognized with astonishment. The stream which had been seen from Jamaica to Boston (40 degrees 21' north latitude) to traverse the whole vault of heaven on the 12th and 13th of November, 1833, was again observed in the United States in 1834, on the night between the 13th and 14th of November, although on this latter occasion it showed itself with somewhat less intensity. In Europe the periodicity of the phenomenon has since been manifested with great regularity.

Another and a like regularly recurring phenomenon is that noticed in the month of August, the meteoric stream of St. Lawrence, appearing between the 9th and 14th of August. Muschenbrock,* as early as in the middle of the last century, drew attention to the frequency of meteors in the month of August' but their certain periodic return about the time of St. Lawrence's day was first shown by Quetelet, Olbers, and Benzenberg.

[footnote] *Compare Muschenbroek, 'Introd. ad Phil. Nat.', 1762, t. ii., p. 1061; Howard, 'On the Climate of London', vol. ii., p. 23, observations of the year 1806; seven years, therefore aftr the earliest observations of Brandes (Benzenberg, 'über Sternschnuppen', s. 240-244); the August observations of Thomas Forster, in Quetelet, op. cit., p. 438-453; those of Adolph Erman, Boguslawski, and Kreil, in Schum., 'Jahrb.', 1838, s. 317-330. Regarding the point of origin in Perseus, on the 10th of August, 1839, see the accurate measurements of Bessel and Erman (Schum., 'Astr. Nachr.', No. 385 und 428); but on the 10th of August, 1837, the path does not apper to have been retrograde; see Arago in 'Comptes Rendus', 1837, t. ii., p. 183.

We shall, no doubt, in time, discover other periodically appearing streams,* probably about the 22d to the p. 126 25th of April, between the 6th and 12th of December, and, to judge by the number of true falls of aërolites enumerated by Capocci, also between the 27th and 29th of November, of about the 17th of July.

[footnote] *On the 25th of April, 1095, "innumerable eyes in France saw stars falling from heaven as thickly as hail" ('ut grando, nisi lucerent, pro densitate putaretur'; Baldr., p. 88), and this occurrence was regarded by the Council of Clermont as indicative of the great movement in Christendom. (Wilken, 'Gesch. der Kreuzzüge', bd. i., s. 75.) On the 25th of April, 1800, a great fall of stars was observed in Virginia and Massachusetts; it was "a fire of rockets that lasted two hours." Arago was the first to call attention to the "trainée d'asteroïdes," as a recurring phenomenon. ('Annuaire', 1836, p. 297.) The falls of aërolites in the beginning of the month of December are also deserving of notice. In reference to their periodic recurrence as a meteoric stream, we may mention the early observation of Brandes on the night of the 6th and 7th of December, 1798 (when he counted 2000 falling stars), and very probably the enormous fall of aërolites that occurred at the Rio Assu, near the village of Macao, in the Brazils, on the 11th of December, 1836. (Brandes, 'Unterhalt. für Freunde der Physik', 1825, heft i., s. 65, and 'Comptes Rendus', t. v., p. 211.) Capocci, in the interval between 1809 and 1839, a space of thirty years, has discovered twelve authenticated cases of aërolites occurring between the 27th and 29th of November, besides others on the 13th of November, the 10th of August, and the 17th of July. ('Comptes Rendus', t. xi., p. 357.) It is singular that in the portion of the Earth's path corresponding with the months of January and February, and probably also with March, no 'periodic' streams of falling stars of aërolites have as yet been noticed; although when in the South Sea in the year 1803, I observed on the 15th of March a remarkably large number of falling stars, and they were seen to fall as in a swarm in the city of Quito, shortly before the terrible earthquake of Riobamba on the 4th of February, 1797. From the phenomena hitherto observed, the following epochs seem especially worthy of remark: 22d to the 25th of April. 17th of July (17th to the 26th of July?). (Quet., 'Corr.', 1837, p. 435.) 10th of August. 12th to the 14th of November. 27th to the 29th of November. 6th to the 12th of December. When we consider that the regions of space must be occupied by myriads of comets, we are led by analogy, notwithstanding the differences existing between isolated comets and rings filled with asteroids, to regard the frequency of these meteoric streams with less astonishment than the first consideration of the phenomenon would be likely to excite.

Although the phenomena hitherto observed appear to have been independent of the distance from the pole, the temperature of the air, and other climatic relations, there is, however, one perhaps accidentally coincident phenomenon which must not be wholly disregarded. The Northern Light, the Aurora Borealis, was unusually brilliant on the occurrence of the Borealis, was unusually brilliant on the occurrence of the splendid fall of meteors of the 12th and 13th November, 1833, described by Olmsted. It was also observed at Bremen in 1838, where the periodic meteoric fall was, however, less remarkable than at Richmond, near London. I have mentioned in another work the singular fact observed by Admiral Wrangel, and frequently confirmed to me by himself,* that when he p 127 was on the Siberian coast of the Polar Sea, he observed, during an Aurora Borealis, certain portions of the vault of heaven which were not illuminated, light up and continue luminous whenever a shooting star passed over them.

[footnote] *Ferd. v. Wrangle, 'Reise längs der Nordküste von Sibirien in den Jahren', 1820-1824, th. ii., s. 259. Regarding the recurrence of the denser swarm of the November stream after an interval of thirty-three years, see Olbers, in 'Jahrb.', 1837, s. 280. I was informed in Cumana that shortly before the fearful earthquake of 1766, and consequently thirty-three years (the same interval) before the great fall of stars on the 11th and 12th of November, 1799, a similar fiery manifestation had been observed in the heavens. But it was on the 21st of October, 1766, and not in the beginning of November, that the earthquake occurred. Possibly some traveler in Quito may yet be able to ascertain the day on which the volcano of Cayambe, which is situated there, was for the space of an hour enveloped in falling stars, so that the inhabitants endeavored to appease heaven by religious processions. ('Relat. Hist.', t. i., chap. iv., p 307; chap. x., p. 520 and 527.)

The different meteoric streams, each of which is composed of myriads of small cosmical bodies, probably intersect our Earth's orbit in the same manner as Biela's comet. According to this hypothesis, we may represent to ourselves these asteroid-meteors as composing a closed ring or zone, within which they all pursue one common orbit. The s aller planets between Mars and Jupiter present us if we except Pallas with an analogous relation in their constantly intersecting orbits. As yet, however, we have no certain knowledge as to whether changes in the periods at which the stream becomes visible, or the 'retardations' of the phenomena of which I have already spoken, indicate a regular precession of oscillation of the nodes -- that is to say, of the points of intersection of the Earth's orbit and of that of the ring; or whether this ring or zone attains so considerable a degree of breadth from the irregular grouping and distances apart of the small bodies, that it requires several days for the Earth to traverse it. The system of Saturn's satellites shows us likewise a group of immense width, composed of most intimately-connected cosmical bodies. In this system, the orbit of the outermost (the seventh) satellite has such a vast diameter, that the Earth, in her revolution round the Sun, requires three days to traverse an extent of space equal to this diameter. If, therefore, in one of these rings, which we regard as the orbit of a periodical stream, the asteroids should be so irregularly distributed as to consist of but few groups sufficiently dense to give rise to these phenomena, we may easily understand why we so seldom witness such glorious spectacles as those exhibited in the November months of 1799 and 1833. The acute mind of Olbers led him almost to predict that the next appearance of the phenomenon of shooting stars and fire-balls intermixed, falling like flakes of snow, would not recur until between the 12th and 14th of November, 1867.

p 128 The stream of the November asteroids has occasionally only been visible in a small section of the Earth. Thus, for instance, a very splendid 'meteoric shower' was seen in England in the year 1837, while a most attentive and skillful observer at Braunsberg, in Prussia only saw on the same night, which was there uninterruptedly clear, a few sporadic shooting stars fall between seven o'clock in the evening and sunrise the next morning. Bessel* concluded from this "that a dense group of the bodies composing the great ring may have reached that part of the Earth in which England is situated, while the more eastern districts of the Earth might be passing at the time through a part of the meteoric ring proportionally less densely studded with bodies."

[footnote] *From a letter to myself, dated Jan. 24th, 1838. The enormous swarm of falling stars in November, 1799, was almost exclusively seen in America, where it was witnessed from New Herrnhut in Greenland to the equator. The swarms of 1831 and 1832 were visible only in Europe, and those of 1833 and 1834 only in the United States of North America.

If the hypothesis of a regular progression or oscillation of the nodes should acquire greater weight, special interest will be attached to the investigation of older observations. The Chinese annals, in which great falls of shooting stars, as well as the phenomena of comets, are recorded, go back beyond the age of Tyrtæs, or the second Messenian war. They give a description of two streams in the month of March, one of which is 687 years anterior to the Christian era. Edward Biot has observed that among the fifty-two phenomena which he has collected from the Chinese annals, those that were of most frequent recurrence are recorded at periods nearly corresponding with the 20th and 22d of July, O.S., and might consequently be identical with the stream of St. Lawrence's day, taking into account that it has advanced since the epochs* indicated.

[footnote] *Lettre de M. Edouard Biot à M. Quetelet, sur les anciennes apparitions d'Etoiles Filantes en Chine, in the 'Bull. de l'Académie de Bruxelles', 1843, t. x., No. 7, p. 8. On the notice from the 'Chronicon Ecclesiæ Pragensis', see the younger Boguslawski, in Poggend., 'Annalen', bd. xlviii., s. 612.

If the fall of shooting stars of the 21st of October, 1366, O.S. (a notice of which was found by the younger Von Boguslawski, in Benessius de Horowic's 'Chronicon Ecclesiæ Pragensis'), be identical with our November phenomenon, although the occurrence in the fourteenth century was seen in broad daylight, we find by the precession in 477 years that this system of meteors, or, rather, its common center of gravity, must describe p 129 a retrograde orbit round the Sun. It also follows, from the views thus developed, that the non-appearance, during certain years, in any portion of the Earth, of the two streams hitherto observed in November and about the time of St. Lawrence's day, must be ascribed either to an interruption in the meteoric ring, that is to say, to intervals occurring between the asteroid groups, or, according to Poisson to the action of the larger planets* on the form and position of this annulus.

[footnote] *"It appears that an apparently inexhaustible number of bodies, too small to be observed, are moving in the regions of space, either around the Sun or the planets, or perhaps even around their satellites. It is supposed that when these bodies come in contact with our atmosphere, the difference between their velocity and that of our planet is so great, that the friction which they experience from their contact with the air heats them to incandescence, and sometimes causes their explosion. If the group of falling stars form an annulus around the Sun, its velocity of circulation may be very different from that of our Earth; and the displacements it may experience in space, in consequence of the actions of the various planets, may render the phenomenon of its intersecting the planes of the ecliptic possible at some epochs, and altogether impossible at others." -- Poisson, 'Recherches sur la Probabilité des Jugements', p. 306, 307.

The solid masses which are observed by night to fall to the earth from fire-balls, and by day generally when the sky is clear, from a cark small cloud, are accompanied by much candescence. They undeniably exhibit a great degree of general identity with respect to their external form, the character of their crust, and the chemical composition of their principal constituents. These characteristics of identity have been observed at all the different epochs and in the most various parts of the earth in which these meteoric stones have been found. This striking and early-observed analogy of physiognomy in the denser meteoric masses is, however, met by many exceptions regarding individual points. What differences, for instance, do we not find between the malleable masses of for instance, do we not find between the malleable masses of iron of Hradeschina in the district of Agram, those from the shores of the Sisim in the government of Jeniseisk, rendered so celebrated by Pallas, or those which I brought from Mexico,* all of which contain 96 per cent. of iron, from the aërolites of Siena, in which the iron scarcely amounts to 2 per cent., or the earthy aërolite of Alais (in the Department du Gard), which broke up in water, or, lastly, from those of Jonzac and Javenas, which contained no metallic iron, but presented a p 130 mixture of oryctognostically distinct crystalline compoonents!

[footnote] *Humboldt, 'Essai Politique sur la Nouv. Espagne' (2de édit.), t. iii. p. 310.

These differences have led mineralogists to separate these cosmical masses into two classes, namely, those containing nickelliferous meteoric iron, and those consisting of fine or coarsely-granular meteoric dust. The crust or rind of aërolites is peculiarly characteristic of these bodies, being only a few tenths of a line in thickness, often glossy and pitch-like, and occasionally veined.*

[footnote] *The peculiar color of their crust was observed even as early as in the time of Pliny (ii., 56 and 58): "colore adusto." The phrase "lateribus pluisse" seems also to refer to the burned outer surface of aërolites.

There is only one instance on record, as far as I am aware (the aërolite of Chantonnay, in La Vendée), in which the rind was absent, and this meteor, like that of Juvenas, presented likewise the peculiarity of having pores and vesicular cavities. In all other cases the black crust is divided from the inner light-gray mass by as sharply-defined a line of separation as is the black leaden-colored investment of the white granit blocks* which I brought from the cataracts of the Orinoco, and which are also associated with many other cataracts, as, for instance, those of the Nile and of the Congo River.

[footnote] * Humb., 'Rel. Hist.', t. ii., chap xx., p. 299-302.

The greatest heat employed in our porcelain ovens would be insufficient to produce any thing similar to the crust of meteoric stones, whose interior remains wholly unchanged. Here and there, facts have been observed which would seem to indicate a fusion together of the meteoric fragments; but, in general, the character of the aggregate mass, the absence of compression by the fall, and the inconsiderable degree of heat possessed by these bodies when they reach the earth, are all opposed to the hypothesis of the interior being in a state of fusion during their short passage from the boundary of the atmosphere to our Earth.

The chemical elements of which these meteoric masses consist, and on which Berzelius has thrown so much light, are the same as those distributed throughout the earth's crust, and are fifteen in number, namely, iron, nickel, cobalt, manganese, chromium, copper, arsenic, zinc, potash, soda, sulphur, phosphorus, and carbon, constituting altogether nearly one third of all the known simple bodies. Notwithstanding this similarity with the primary elements into which inorganic bodies are chemically reducible, the aspect of aërolites, owing to the mode in which their constituent parts are compounded, presents, generally, some features foreign to our telluric rocks and minerals. The pure native iron, which is almost always p 131 found incorporated with aërolites, imparts to them a peculiar, but not consequently, a 'selenic' character; for in other regions of space, and in other cosmical bodies besides our Moon, water may be wholly absent, and processes of oxydation of rare occurence.

Cosmical gelatinous vesicles, similar to the organic 'nostoc' (masses which have been supposed since the Middle Ages to be connected with shooting stars), and those pyrites of Sterlitamak, west of the Uralian Mountains, which are said to have constituted the interior of hailstones,* must both be classed among the mythical fables of meteorology.

[footnote] *Gustav Rose, 'Reise nach dem Ural', bd. II., s. 202.

Some few aërolites, as those composed of a finely granular tissue of olivine, augite, and labradorite blended together* (as the meteoric stone found at Juvenas, in the Department de l'Ardèche, which resembled dolorite), are the only ones, as Gustav Rose has remarked, which have a more familiar aspect.

[footnote] *Gustav Rose, in Poggend., 'Ann.', 1825, bd. iv., x. 173-192. Rammelsberg, 'Erstes Suppl. zum chem. Handwörterbuche der Mineralogie', 1843, s. 102. "It is," says the clear-minded observer Olbers, "a remarkable but hitherto unregarded fact, that while shells are found in secondary and tertiary formations, no 'fossil meteoric stones' have as yet been discovered. May we conclude from this circumstance that previous to the present and last modification of the earth's surface no meteoric stones fell on it, although at the present time it appears probable, from the researches of Schreibers, that 700 fall annually?" (Olbers, in Schum., 'Jahrb.', 1838, s. 329.) Problematical nickelliferous masses of native iron have been found in Northern Asia (at the gold-washing establishment at Petropawlowsk, eighty miles southeast of Kusnezk), imbedded thirty-one feet in the ground, and more recently in the Western Carpathians (the mountain chain of Magura, at Szlanicz), both of which are remarkably like meteoric stones. Compart Erman, 'Archiv für wissenschaftliche Kunde von Russland', bd. i., s. 315, and Haidinger, 'Bericht über Szlaniczer Schürfe in Ungarn.'

These bodiescontain, for instance, crystalline substances, perfectly similar to those of our earth's crust; and in the Siberian mass of meteoric iron investigated by Pallas, the olivine only differs from common olivine by the absence of nickel, which is replaced by the oxyd of tin.*

[footnote] *Berzelius, 'Jahresber.', bd. xv., s. 217 und 231. Rammelsberg, 'Handwörterb., abth. ii., s. 25-28.

As meteoric olivine, like our basalt, contains from 47 to 49 per cent. of magnesia, constituting, according to Berzelius, almost the half of the earthy components of meteoric stones, we can not be surprised at the great quantity of silicate of magnesia found in these cosmical bodies. If the zërolite of Juvenas contain separable crystals of augite and labradorite, the numerical relation of the constituents p 132 render it at least probable that the meteoric masses of Chateau-Renard may be a compound of diorite, consisting of hornblende and albite, and those of Blansko and Chantonnay compounds of hornblende and labradorite. The proofs of the telluric and atmospheric origin of aUerolites, which it is attempted to base upon the oryctognostic analogies presented by these bodies, do not appear to me to possess any great weight.

Recalling to mind the remarkable interview between Newton and Conduit at Kensington,* I would ask why the elementary substances that compose one group of cosmical bodies, or one planetary system, may not, in a great measure, be identical?

[footnote] * "Sir Isaac Newton said he took all the planets to be composed of the same matter with the Earth, viz., earth, water, and stone, but variously connected." -- Turner, 'Collections for the History of Grantham, containing authentic Memoirs of Sir Isaac Newton', p. 172.

Why should we not adopt this view, since we may conjecture that these planetary bodies, like all the larger or smaller agglomerated masses revolving round the sun, have been thrown off from the once far more expanded solar atmosphere, and been formed from vaporous rintgs describing their orbits round the central body? We are not, it appears to me, more justified in applying the term telluric to the nickel and iron, the olivine and pyroxene (augite), found in meteoric stones, than in indicating the German plants which I found beyond the Obi as European species of the flora of Northern Asia. If the elementary substances composing a group of cosmical bodies of different magnitudes be identical, why should they not likewise, in obeying the laws of mutual attraction, blend together under definite relations of mixture, composing the white glittring snow and ice in the polar zones of the planet Mars, or constituting in the smaller cosmical masses mineral bodies inclosing crystals of olivine, augite, and labradorite? Even in the domain of pure conjecture we should not suffer ourselves to be led away by unphilosophical and arbitrary views devoid of the support of inductive reasoning.

Remarkable obscurations of the sun's disk, during which the stars have been seen at mid-day (as, for instance, in the obscuration of 1547, which continued for three days, and occurred about the time of the eventful battle of Mühlberg), can not be explained as arising from volcanic ashes or mists, and were regarded by Kepler as owing either to a 'materia cometica', or to a black cloud formed by the sooty exhalations of the solar body. The shorter obscurations of 1090 and 1203, which continued, the one only three, and the other six p 133 hours, were supposed by Chladni and Schnurrer to be occasioned by the passage of meteoric masses before the sun's disk. Since the period that streams of meteoric shooting stars were first considered with reference to the direction of their orbit as a closed ring, the epochs of these mysterious celestial phenomena have been observed to present a remarkable connection with the regular recurrence of swarms of shooting stars Adolph Erman has evinced great acuteness of mind in his accurate investigation of the facts hitherto observed on this subject, and his researches have enabled him to discover the connection of the sun's conjunction with the August asteroids on the 7th of February, and with the November asteroids on the 12th of May, the latter period corresponding with the days of St. Mamert (May 11th), St. Pancras (May 12th), and St. Servatius (May 13th), which according to popular belief, were accounted "cold days."*

[footnote] Adolph Erman, in Poggend., 'Annalen', 1839, bd. xlviii., s. 582-601. Biot had previously thrown doubt regarding the probability of the November stream reappearing in the beginning of May ('Comptes Rendus', 1836, t. ii., p. 670). Mädler has examined the mean depression of temperature on the three ill-named days of May by Berlin observations for eighty-six years ('Verhandl. des Vereins zur Bedförd, des Gartenbaues', 1834, s. 377), and found a retrogression of temperature amounting to 2.2 degrees Fahr. from the 11th to the 13th of May, a period at which nearly the most rapid advance of heat takes place. It is much to be desired that this phenomenon of depressed temperature, which some have felt inclined to attribute to the melting of the ice in the northeast of Europe, should be also investigated in very remote spots, as in America, or in the southern hemisphere. (Comp. 'Bull. de l'Acad. Imp. de St. Pétersbourg', 1843, t. i., No. 4.)

The Greek natural philosophers, who were but little disposed to pursue observations, but evinced inexhaustible fergility of imagination in giving the most various interpretation of half-perceived facts, have, however, left some hypotheses regarding shooting stars and meteoric stones which strikingly accord with the views now almost universally admitted of the cosmical process of these phenomena. "Falling stars," says Plutarch, in his life of Lysander,* are, according to the opinion of some physicists, not eruptions of the ethereal fire extinguished in the air immediately after its ignition, nor yet an inflammatory combustion of the air, which is dissolved in large quantities in the upper regions of space, but these meteors are rather a fall of celestial bodies, which, in consequence of a certain intermission in the rotatory force, and by the impulse of some irregular movements, have been hurled down not only to the inhabited portions of the Earth, but also beyond it into the great ocean, where we can not find them."

[footnote] *Plut., 'Vitæ par, in Lysandro', cap. 22. The statement of Damachos (Daïmachos), that for seventy days continuously there was a fiery cloud seen in the sky, emitting sparks like falling stars, and which then, sinking nearer to the earth, let fall the stone of Ægos Potamos, "which, however, was only a small part of it," is extremely improbable, since the direction and velocity of the fire-cloud would in that case of necessity have to remain for so many days the same as those of the earth; and this, in the fire-ball of the 19th of July, 1686, described by Halley ('Trans.', vol. xxix., p. 163), lasted only a few minutes. It is not altogether certain whether Daïmachos, the writer, [Greek words], was the same person as Daïmachos of Platæa, who was sent by Selencus to India to the son of Androcottos, and who ws charged by Strabo with being "a speaker of lies" (p. 70, Casaub.). From another passage of Plutarch ('Compar. Solonis c. Cop.', cap. 5) we should almost believe that he was. At all events, we have here only the evidence of a very late author, who wrote a century and a half after the fall of aërolites occurred in Thrace, and whose authenticity is also doubted by Plutarch.

Diogenes of Apollonia* expresses himself still more explicitly.

[footnote] *Stob., ed. Heeren, i., 25, p. 508; Plut., 'de plac. Philos.', ii., 13.

According to his views, "Stars that are 'invisible', and, consequently, have no name, move in space together with those that are visible. These invisible stars frequently fall burning at Ægos Potamos." The Apollonian, who held all other stellar bodies, when luminous, to be of a pumice-like nature, probably grounded his opinions regarding shooting stars and meteoric masses on the doctrine of Anaxagoras the Clazomenian, who regarded all the bodies in the universe "as fragments of rocks, which the fiery ether, in the force of its gyratory motion, had torn from the Earth and converted into stars." In the Ionian school, therefore, according to the testimony transmitted to us in the views of Diogenes of Apollonia, aërolites and stars were ranged in one and the same class; both, when considered with reference to their primary origin, being equally telluric, this being understood only so far as the Earth was then regarded as a central body,* p 135 forming all things around it in the same manner was we, according to our present views, suppose the planets of our system to have originated in the expanded atmosphere of another central body, the Sun.

[footnote] *The remarkable passage in Plut., 'de plac. Philos.', ii., 13, runs thus: "Anaxagoras teaches that the surrounding ether is a fiety substance, which, by the power of its rotation, tears rocks from the earth, inflames them, and converts them into stars." Applying an ancient fable to illustrate a physical dogma, the Clazomenian appears to have ascribed the fall of the Nemæan Lion to the Peloponnesus from the Moon to such a rotatory or centrifugal force. (Ælian., xii., 7; Plut., 'de Facie in Orge Lunæ' c. 24; Schol. ex Cod. Paris., in 'Apoll. Argon.', lib. i., p. 498, ed. Schaef., t. ii., p. 40; Meineke, 'Annal. Alex.', 1843, p. 85.) Here, instead of stones from the Moon, we have an animal from the Moon! According to an acute remark of Böckh, the ancient mythology of the Nemæan lunar lion has an astronomical origin, and is symbolically connected in chronology with the cycle of intercalation of the lunar year, with the moon-worship at Nemæa, and the games by which it was accompanied.

These views must not, therefore, be confounded with what is commonly termed the telluric or atmospheric origin of meteoric stones, nor yet with the singular opinion of Aristotle, which supposed the enormous mass of Ægos Potamos to have been raised by a hurricane. That rrogant spirit of incredulity, which rejects facts without attempting to investigate them, is in some cases almost more injurious than an unquestioning credulity. Both are alike detrimental to the force of investigation. Notwithstanding that for more than two thousand years the annals of different nations had recorded falls of meteoric stones, many of which had been attested beyond all doubt by the evidence of irreproachable eye-witnesses -- notwithstanding the important part enacted by the Bætylia in the meteor-worship of the ancients -- notwithstanding the fact of the companions of Cortez having see an aërolite at Cholula which had fallen on the neighboring pyramid -- notwithstanding that califs and Mongolian chiefs had caused swords to be forged from recently-fallen meteoric stones -- nay, notwithstanding that several persons had been struck dead by stones falling from heaven, as for instance, a monk at Crema on the 4th of September, 1511, another monk at Milan in 1650, and two Swedish sailors on board ship in 1674, yet this great cosmical phenomenon remained almost wholly unheeded, and its intimate connection drawn to the subject by Chladni, who had already gained immortal renown by his discovery of the sound-figures. He who is penetrated with a sense of this mysterious connection, and whose mind is open to deep impressions of nature, will feel himself moved by the deepest and most solemn emotion at the sight of every star that shoots across the vault of heaven, no less than at the glorious spectacle of meteoric swarms in the November phenomenon or on St. Lawrence's day. Here motion is suddenly revealed in the midst of nocturnal rest. The still radiance of the vault of heaven is for a moment animated with life and movement. In the mild radiance left on the track of the shooting star, imagination pictures the lengthened path of the meteor through the vault of heaven, p 136 while, every where around, the luminous asteroids proclaim the existence of one common material universe.

If we compare the volume of the innermost of Saturn's satellites, or that of Ceres, with the immense volume of the Sun, all relations of magnitude vanish from our minds. The extinction of suddenly resplendent stars in Cassiopeia, Cygnus, and Serpentarius have already led to the assumption of other and non-luminous cosmical bodies. We now know that the meteoric asteroids, spherically agglomerated into small masses, revolve round the Sun, intersect, like comets, the orbits of the luminous larger planets, and become ignited either in the vicinity of our atmosphere or in its upper strata.

The only media by which we are brought in connection with other planetary bodies, and with all portions of the universe beyond our atmosphere, are light and heat (the latter of which can scarcely be separated from the former),* and those mysterious powers of attraction exercised by remote masses, according to the quantity of their constituents, upon our globe, the ocean, and the strata of our atmosphere.

[footnote' *The following remarkable passage on the radiation of heat from the fixed stars, and on their low combustion and vitality -- one of Kepler's many aspirations -- occurs in the 'Paralipom. in Vitell. Astron. parsOpticqa', 1604, Propos. xxxii., p. 25: "Luciis proprium est calor, sydera omnia calefaciunt. De syderum luce claritatis ratio testatur, calorem universorum in minori esse proportione ad calorem unius solis, quam ut ab homine, cujus est certa caloris mensura, utrque simul percipi et judicari possit. De cincindularum lucula tenuissima negare non potes, quin cum calore sit. Vivunt enim et moventur, hoc auten non sine calefactione perficitur. Sic neque putrescentium lignorum lux sui calore destituitur; nam ipsa puetredo quidam lentus ignis est. Inest et stirpibus suus calor." (Compare Kepler, 'Epit. Astron. Copernicanæ', 1618, t. i., lib. i., p. 35.)

Another and different kind of cosmical, or, rather, material mode of contact is, however, opened to us, if we admit falling stars and meteoric stones to be planetary asteroids. They not only act upon us merely from a distance by the excitement of luminous or calorific vibrations, or in obedience to the laws of mutual attraction, but they acquire an actual material existence for us, reaching our atmosphere from the remoter regions of universal space, and remaining on the earth itself. Meteoric stones are the only means by which we can be brought in possible contact with that which is foreign to our own planet. Accustomed to gain our knowledge of what is not telluric solely through measurement, calculations, and the deductions of reason, we experience a sentiment of astonishment at finding that we may examine, weigh, and analyze bodies that appertain p 137 to the outer world. This awakens, by the power of the imagination, a meditative, spiritual train of thought, where the untutored mind perceives only scintillations of light in the firmament, and sees in the blackened stone that falls from the exploded cloud nothing beyond the rough product of a powerful natural force.

Although the asteroid-swarms, on which we have been led, from special predilection, to dwell somewhat at length, approximate to a certain degree, in their inconsiderable mass and the diversity of their orbits, to comets, they present this essential difference from the latter bodies, that our knowledge of their existence is almost entirely limited to the moment of their destruction, that is, to the period when, drawn within the sphere of the Earth's attraction they become luminous and ignite.

In order to complete our view of all that we have learned to consider as appertaining to our solar system, which now, since the discovery of the small planets, of the interior comets of short revolutions, and of the meteoric asteroids, is so rich and complicated in its form, it remains for us to speak of the ring of Zodiacal light, to which we have already alluded. Those who have lived for many years in the zone of palms must retain a pleasing impression of the mild radiance with which the zodiacal light, shooting pyramidally upward, illumines a part of the uniform length of tropical nights. I have seen it shine with an intensity of light equal to the milky way in Sagittarius, and that not only in the rare and dry atmosphere of the summits of the Andes, at an elevation of from thirteen to fifteen thousand feet, but even on the boundless grassy plains, the Illanos of Venezuela, and on the sea-shore, beneath the ever-clear sky of Cumana. This phenomenon was often rendered especially beautiful by the passage of light, fleecy clouds, which stood out in picturesque and bold relief from the luminous back-ground. A notice of this aërial spectacle is contained in a passage in my journal, while I was on the voyage from Lima to the western coasts of Mexico: "For three or four nights (between 10ºdegrees and 14ºdegrees north latitude) the zodiacal light has appeared in greater splendor than I have ever observed it. The transparency of the atmosphere must be remarkably great in this part of the Southern Ocean, to judge by the radiance of the stars and nebulous spots. From the 14th to the 19th of March a regular interval of three quarters of an hour occurred between the disappearance of the sun's disk in the ocean and the first manifestation of the zodiacal p 138 light, although the night was already perfectly dark. an hour after sunset it was seen in great briliancy between Aldebaran and the Pleiades; and on the 18th of March it attained an altitude of 39ºdegrees5'minutes. Narrow elongated clouds are scattered over the beautiful deep azure of the distant horizon, flitting past the zodiacal light as before a golden curtain. Above these, other clouds are from time to time reflecting the most brightly variegated colors. It seems a second sunset. On this side of the vault of heaven the lightness of the night appears to increase almost as much as at the first quarter of the moon. Toward 10 o'clock the zodiacal light generally becomes very faint in this part of the Southern Ocean, and at midnight I have scarcely been able to trace a vestige of it. On the 16th of March, when most strongly luminous a faint reflection was visible in the east." In our gloomy so-called "temperate" northern zone, the zodiacal light is only distinctly visible in the beginning of Spring, after the evening twilight, in the western part of the sky, and at the close of Autumn, before the dawn of day, above the eastern horizon.

It is difficult to understand how so striking a natural phenomenon should have failed to attract the attention of physicists and astronomers until the middle of the seventeenth century, or how it could have escaped the observation of the Atabian natural philosophers in ancient Bactria, on the euphrates, and in the south of Spain. Almost equal surprise is excited by the tardiness of observation of the nebulous spots in Andromeda and Orion, first described by Simon Marius and Huygens. The earliest explicit descriptions of the zodiacal light occurs in Childrey's 'Britannia Baconica',* in the year 1661. p 139

[footnote] *"There is another thing which I recommend to the observation of mathematical men, which is that in February, and for a little before and a little after that month (as I have observed several years together), about six in the evening, when the twilight hath almost deserted the horizon, you shall see a plainly discernible way of the twilight striking up toward the Pleiades, and seeming almost to touch them. It is so observed any clear night, but it is best illac nocte. There is no such way to be observed at any other time of the year (that I can perceive), nor any other way at that time to be perceived darting up elsewhere; and I believe it hath been, and will be constantly visible at that time of the year; but what the cause of it in nature should be, I can not yet imagine, but leave it to future inquiry." (Childrey, 'Britannia Baconica', 1661, p. 183.) This is the first view and a simple description of the phenomenon. (Cassini, 'Découverte de la Lumi dfd éleste qui paroît dans le Zodiaque', in the 'Mém. de l'Acad.', t. viii., 1730, p 276. Mairan, 'TraitéPhys de l'Aurore Boréale', 1754, 0. 16.) In this remarkable work by Childrey there are to be found (p. 91) very clear accounts of the epochs of maxima and minima diurnal and annual temperatures, and of the retardation of the extremes of the effects in meteorological processes. It is, however, to be regretted that our Baconian-philosophy-loving author, who was Lord Henry Somerset's chaplain, fell into the same error as Bernardin de St. Pierre, and regarded the Earth as elongated at the poles (see p. 148). At the first he believes that the Earth was spherical, but supposes that the uninterrupted and increasing addition of layers of ice at both poles has changed its figure; and that as the ice is formed from water, the quantity of that liquid is every where diminishing.

The first observation of the phenomenon may have been made two or three years prior to this period; but, notwithstanding, the merit of having (in the spring of 1683) been the first to investigate the phenomenon in all its relations in space is incontestably due to Dominicus Cassini. The light which he saw at Bologna in 1668, and which was observed at the same time in Persia by the celebrated traveler Chardin (the court astrologers of Ispahan called this light, which had never before been observed, 'nyzek', a small lance), was not the zodiacal light, as has often been asserted,* but the p 140 enormous tail of a comet, whose head was concealed in the vapory mist of the horizon, and which, from its length and appearance, presented much similarity to the great comet of 1843.

[footnote] *Dominicus Cassini ('Mém. de l'Acad.', t. viii., 1730, p. 188), and Mairan ('Aurore Bor.', p. 16), have even maintained that the phenomenon observed in Persia in 1668 was the zodiacal light. Delambre ('Hist. de l'Astron. Moderne', t. ii., p. 742), in very decided trms ascribes the discovery of this light to the celebrated traveler Chardin; but in the 'Couronnement de Soliman', and in several passages of the narrative of his travels (éd. de Langlès. t. iv., p. 326; t. x., p. 97), he only applies the term niazouk (nyzek), or "petite lance," to "the great and famous comet which appeared over nearly the whole world in 1668, and whose head was so hidden in the wewst that it could not be perceived in the horizon of Ispahan" ('Atlas du Voyage de Chardin', Tab. iv.; from the observations at Schiraz). The head or nucleus of the comet was, however, visible in the Brazils and in India (Pingré, 'Cométogr.', t. ii., p. 22). Regarding the conjectured identity of the last great comet of March, 1843, with this, which Cassini mistook for the zodiacal light, see Schum., 'Astr. Nachr.', 1843, No. 476 and 480. In Persian, the term "nizehi âteschîn"(fiery spears or lances) is also applied to the rays of the rising or setting sun, in the same way as "nayâzik," according to Freytag's Arabic Lexicon, signifies "stellæ cadentes." The comparison of comets to lances and swords was, however, in the Middle Ages, very common in all languages. The great comet of 1500, which was visible from April to June, was always termed by the Italian writers of that time 'il Signor Astone' (see my 'Examen Critique de l'Hist. de la Géographie', t. v., p. 80). All the hypotheses that have been advanced to show that Descartes (Cassini, p. 230; Mairan, p. 16), and even Kepler (Delambre, t. i., p. 601), were acquainted with the zodiacal light, appear to me altogether untenable. Descartes ('Principes', iii., art. 136, 137) is very obscure in his remarks on comets, observing that their tails are formed "by oblique rays, which, falling on different parts of the planetary orbs, strike the eye laterally by extraordinary refraction," and that they might be seen morning and evening, "like a long beam," when the Sun is between the comet and the Earth. This passage no more refers to the zodiacal light than those in which Kepler ('Epit. Astron. Copernicanæ', t. i., p. 57, and t. ii., p. 893) speaks of the existence of a solar atmosphere (limbus circa solem, coma lucida), which, in eclipses of the Sun, prevents it "from being quite night:" and even more uncertain, or indeed erroneous, is the assumption that the "trabes quas [Greek word] vocant" (Plin., ii., 26 and 27) had reference to the tongue-shaped rising zodiacal light, as Cassini (p. 231, art. xxxi.) and Mairan (p. 15) have maintained. Every where among the ancients the trabes are associated with the bolides (ardores et faces) and other fiery meteors, and even with long-barbed comets. (Regarding [Greek words] . see Schäfer, 'Schol. Par. ad Apoll. Rhod.', 1813, t. ii., p. 206; Pseudo-Aristot., 'de Mundo, 2, 9; 'Comment. Alex. Joh. Philop. et Olymp. in Aristot. Meteor.', lib. i., cap. vii., 3, p. 195, Ideler; Seneca, 'Nat. Quæst.', i., 1.)

We may conjecture, with much probability, that the remarkable light on the elevated plains of Mexico, seen for forty nights consecutively i8n 1509, and observed in the eastern horizon rising pyramidally from the earth, was the zodiacal light. I found a notice of this phenomenon in an ancient Aztec MS., the 'CodexTelleriano-Remensis',* preserved in the Royal Library at Paris.

[footnote] *Humboldt, 'Monumens des Peuples Indigènes de l'Amérique', t. ii., p. 301. The rare manuscript which belonged to the Archbishop of Rheims, Le Tellier, contains various kinds of extracts from an Aztec ritual, an astrological calendar, and historical annals, extending from 1197 to 1549, and embracing a notice of different natural phenomena, epochs of earthquakes and comets (as, for instance, those of 1490 and 1529), and of (which are important in relation to Mexican chronology) solar eclipses. In Camargo's manuscript 'Historia de Tlascala', the light rising in the east almost to the zenith is, singularly enough, described as "sparkling, and as if sown with stars." The description of this phenomenon, which lasted forty days, can not in any way apply to volcanic eruptions of Popcatepetl, which lies very near, in the southeastery direction. (Prescott, 'History of the Conquest of Mesico', vol. i., p. 284.) Later commentators have confounded this phenomenon, which Montezuma regarded as a warning of his misfortunes, with the "estrella que humeava" (literally, 'which spring forth'; Mexican 'choloa, to leap or spring forth'). With respect to the connection of this vapor with the star Citlal Choloha (Venus) and with "the mountain of the star" (Citialtepetl, the volcano of Orizaba), see my 'Monumens', t. ii., p. 303.

This phenomenon, whose primordial antiquity can scarcely be doubted, and which was first noticed in Europe by Childrey and Dominicus Cassini, is not the luminous solar atmosphere itself, since this can not, in accordance with mechanical laws, be more compressed than in the relation of 2 to 3, and consequently can not be diffused beyond 9/20ths of Mercury's heliocentric distance. These same laws teach us that the altitude of the extreme boundaries of the atmosphere of a cosmical p 141 body above its equator, that is to say, the point at which gravity and centrifugal force are in equilibrium, must be the same as the altitude at which a satellite would rotate round the central body simultaneously with the diurnal revolution of the latter.*

[footnote] *Laplace, 'Expos. du Syst. du Monde', p. 270; 'Mécanique Céleste', t. ii., p. 169 and 171; Schubert, 'Astr.', bd. iii., § 206.

This limitation of the solar atmosphere in its present concentrated condition is especially remarkable when we compare the central body of our system with the nucleus of other nebulous stars. Herschel has discovered several, in which the radius of the nebulous matter surrounding the star appeared at an angle of 150". On the assumption that the parallax is not fully equal to 1", we find that the outermost nebulous layer of such a star must be 150 times further from the central body than our Earth is from the Sun. If, therefore, the nebulous star were to occupy the place of our Sun, its atmosphere would not only include the orbit of Uranus, but even extend eight times beyond it.•

[footnote] *Arago, in the 'Annuaire', 1842, p. 408. Compare Sir John Herschel's considerations on the volume and faintness of light of planetary nebulæ, in Mary Somerville's 'Connection of the Physical Sciences', 1835, p. 108. The opinion that the Sun is a nebulous star, whose atmosphere presents the phenomenon of zodiacal light, did not originate with Dominicus Cassini, but was first promulgated by Mairan in 1730 ('Traité de l'Aurore Bor.', p. 47 and 263; Arago, in the 'Annuaire', 1842, p. 412). It is a renewal of Kepler's views.

Considering the narrow limitation of the Sun's atmosphere, which we have just described, we may with much probability regard the existence of a very compressed annulus of nebulous matter,* revolving freely in space between the orbits of Venus and Mars, as the material cause of the zodiacal light.

[footnote] *Cominicus Cassini was the first to assume, as did subsequently Laplace, Schubert, and Poisson, the hypothesis of a separate ring to explain the form of the zodiacal light. He says distinctly, "If the orbits of Mercury and Venus were visible (throughout their whole extent), we should invariably observe them with the same figure and in the same position with regard to the Sun, and at the same time of the year with the zodiacal light." ('Mém. de l'Acad.', t. viii., 1730, p. 218, and Biot, in the 'Comptes Rendus', 1836, t. iii., p. 666.) Cassini believed that the nebulous ring of zodiacal light consisted of innumerable small planetary bodies revolving round the Sun. He even went so far as to believe that the fall of fire-balls might be connected with the passage of the Earth through the zodiacal nebulous ring. Olmsted, and especially Biot (op. cit., p. 673), have attempted to establish its connection with the November phenomenon -- a connection which Olbers doubts. (Schum., 'Jahrb.', 1837, s. 281.) Regarding the question whether the place of the zodiacal light perfectly coincides with that of the Sun's equator, see Houzeau, in Schum., 'Astr. Nachr.', 1843, No. 492, s. 190.

As p 142 yet we certainly know nothing definite regarding its actual material dimensions; its augmentation* by emanations from the tails of myriads of comets that come within the Sun's vicinity; the singular changes affecting its expansion, since it sometimes does not apper to extend beyond our Earth's orbit; or, lastly, regarding its conjectural intimate connection with the more condensed cosmical vapor in the vicinity of the Sun.

[footnote] *Sir John Herschel, 'Astron.', § 487.

The nebulous particles composing this ring, and revolving round the sun in accordance with planetary laws, may either be self-luminous or receive light from that luminary. Even in the case of a terrestrial mist (and this fact is very remarkable), which occurred at the time of the new moon at midnight in 1743, the phosphorescence was so intense that objects could be distinctly recognized at a distance of more than 600 feet.

I have occasionally been astonished in the tropical climates of south america, to observe the variable intensity of the zodiacal light. As i passed the nights, during many months, in the open air, on the shores of rivers and on ilanos, i enjoyed ample opportunities of carefully examining this phenomenon. When the zodiacal light had been most intense, i have observed that it would be perceptibly weakened for a few minutes, until it again suddenly shone forth in full brilliancy. In some few instances i have thought that i could perceive -- not exactly a reddish coloration, nor the lower portion darkened in an arc-like form, nor even a scintillation, as mairan affirms he has observed -- but a kind of flickering and wavering of the light.*

[footnote] *Arago, in the 'Annuaire', 1832, p. 246. Several physical facts appear to indicate that, in a mechanical separation of matter into its smallest particles, if the mass be very small in relation to the surface, the electrical tension may increase sufficiently for the production of light and heat. Experiments with a large concave mirror have not hitherto given any positive evidence of the presence of radiant heat in the zodiacal light. (Lettre de M. Matthiessen à M. Arago, in the 'Comptes Rendus', t. xvi., 1843, Avril, p. 687.)

Must we suppose that changes are actually in progress in the nebulous ring? or is it not more probable that, although I could not, by my meteorological instruments, detect any change of heat or moisture near the ground, and small stars of the fifth and sixth magnitudes appeared to shine with equally undiminished intensity of light, processes of condensation may be going on in the uppermost strata of the air, by means of which the transparency, or rather, the reflection of light, may be modified in some peculiar and unknown manner? p 143 An assumption of the existence of such meteorological causes on the confines of our atmosphere is strengthened by the "sudden flash and pulsation of light," which, according to the acute observations of Olbers, vibrated for several seconds through the tail of a comet, which appeared during the continuance of the pulsations of light to be lengthened by several degrees, and then again contracted.*

[footnote] *"What you tell me of the changes of light in the zodiacal light, and of the causes to which you ascribe such changes within the tropics, is of the greatr interest to me, since I have been for a long time past particularly attentive, every spring, to this phenomenon in our northern latitudes. I, too, have always believed that the zodiacal light rotated; but I assumed (contrary to Poisson's opinion, which you have communicated to me) that it completely extended to the Sun, with considerably augmenting brightness. The light circle which, in total solar eclipses, is seen surrounding the darkened Sun, I have regarded as the brightest portion of the zodiacal light. I have convinced my self that this light is very different in different years, often for several successive years being very bright and diffused, while in othr years it is scarcely perceptible. I tyhink that I find the first trace of an allusion to the zodiacal light in a letter from Rothmann to Tycho, in which he mentions that in the spring he has observed the twilight did not close until the sun was 24ºdegrees below the horizon. Rothmann must certainly have confounded the disappearance of the setting zodiacal light in the vapors of the western horizon with the actual cessation of twilight. I have failed to observe the pulsations of the light, probably on account of the faintness with which it appears in these countries. You are, however, certainly right in ascribing those rapid variations in the light of the heavenly bodies, which you have perceived in tropical climates, to our own atmosphere, and especially to its higher regions. This is especially in the clearest weather, that these tails exhibit pulsations, commencing from the head, as being the lowest part, and vibrating in one or two seconds through the entire tail, which thus appears rapidly to become some degrees longer, but again as rapidly contracts. That these undulations, which were formerly noticed with attention by Robert Hooke, and in more recent times by Schröter and Chladni, 'do not actually occur in the tails of the comets', but are produced by our atmosphere, is obvious when we recollect that the individual parts of those tails (which are many millions of miles in length) lie 'at very different distances' from us, and that the light from their extreme points can only reach us at intervals of time which differ several minutes from one another. Whether what you saw on the Orinoco, not at intervals of seconds, but of minutes, were actual coruscations of the zodiacal light, or whether they belonged exclusively to the upper strata of our atmosphere, I will not attempt to decide; neither can I explain the remarkable 'lightness of whole nights', nor the anomalous augmentation and prolongation of the twilight in the year 1831, particularly if, as has been remarked, the lightest part of these singular twilights did not coincide with the Sun's place below the horizon." (From a lettr written by Dr. Olbers to myself, and dated Bremen, Marth 26th, 1833.)

As, however, the separate particles of a comet's tail, measuring millions of miles, p 144 are very unequally distant from earth, it is not possible, according to the laws of the velocity and transmission of light, that we should be able, in so short a period of time, to perceive any actual changes in a cosmical body of such vast extent. There considerations in no way exclude the realith of the changes that have been observed in the emanations from the more condensed envelopes around the nucleus of a comet, nor that of the sudden irradiation of the zodiacal light, from internal molecular motion, nor of the increased or diminished reflection of light in the cosmical vapor of the luminous ring, but should simply be the means of drawing our attention to the differences existing between that which appertains to the air of heaven (the realms of universal space) and that which belongs to the strata of our terrestrial atmosphere. It is not possible, as well-attested facts prove, perfectly to explain the operations at work in the much-contested upper boundaries of our atmosphere. The extraordinary lightness of whole nights in the year 1831, during which small print might be read at midnight in the latitudes of Italy and the north of Germany is a fact directly at variance with all that we know, according to the most recent and acute researches on the crepuscular theory, and of the height of the atmosphere.*

[footnote] *Biot, 'Traité d'Astron. Physique', 3ème éd., 1841, t. i., p. 171, 238 and 312.

The phenomena of light depend upon conditions still less understood, and their variability at twilight, as well as in the zodiacal light, excite our astonishment.

We have hitherto considered that which belongs to our solare system -- that world of material forms governed by the Sun -- which includes the primary and secondary planets, comets of short and long periods of revolution, meteoric asteroids, which move thronged together in streams, either sporadically or in closed rings, and finally a luminous nebulous ring, that revolves round the Sun in the vicinity of the Earth, and for which, owing to its position, we may retain the name of zodiacal light. Every where the law of periodicity governs the motions of these bodies, however different may be the amount of tangential velocity, or the quantity of their agglomerated material parts; the meteoric asteroids which enter our atmosphere from the external regions of universal space are alone arrested in the course of their planetary revolution, and retained within the sphere of a larger planet. In the solar system, whose boundaries determine the attractive force of the central body, comets are made to revolve in their elliptical p 145 orbits at a distance 44 times greater than that of Uranus; may, in those comets whose nucleus appears to us, from its inconsiderable mass, like a mere passing cosmical cloud, the Sun exercises its attractive force on the outermost parts of the emanations radiating from the tail over a space of many millions of miles. Central forces, therefore, at once constitute and maintain the system.

Our Sun may be considered as at rest when compared to all the large and small, dense and almost vaporous cosmical bodies tht appertain to and revolve around it; but it actually rotates around the common center of gravity of the whole system, which occasionally falls within itself, that is to say, remains within the material circumference of the Sun, whatever changes may be assumed by the position of the planets. A very different phenomenon is that presented by the translatory motion of the Sun, that is, the progressive motion of the center of gravity of the whole solar system in universal space. Its velocity is such* that, according to Bessel, the relative motion of the Sun, and that of 61 Cygni, is not less in one day than 3,336,000 geographical miles.

[footnote] *Bessel, in Schum., 'Jahrb. für' 1839, s. 51; probably four millions of miles daily, in a relative velocity of at the least 3,336,000 miles, or more than couble the velocity of revolution of the Earth in her orbit round the Sun.

This change of the entire solar system would remain unknown to us, if the admirable exactness of our astronomical instruments of measurement, and the advancement recently made in the art of observing, did not cause our advance toward remote stars to be perceptible, like an approximation to the objects of a distant shore in apparent motion. The proper motion of the star 61 Cygni, for instance, is so considerable, that it has amounted to a whole degree in the course of 700 years.

The amount or quantity of these alterations in the fixed stars (that is to say, the changes in the relative position of self-luminous stars toward each other), can be determined with a greater degree of certainty than we are able to attach to the genetic explanation of the phenomenon. After taking into consideration what is due to the precession of the equinoxes, and the nutation of the earth's axis produced by the action of the Sun and Moon on the spheroidal figure of our globe, and what may be ascribed to the transmission of light, that is to say, to its aberration, and to the parallax formed by the diametrically opposite position of the Earth in its course round the Sun, we still find that there is a residual portion p 146 of the annual motion of the fixed stars due to the translation of the whole solar system in universal space, and to the true proper motion of the stars. The difficult problem of numerically separating these two elements, the true and the apparent motion, has been effected by the careful study of the direction of the motion of certain individual stars, and by the consideration of the fact that, if all the stars were in a state of absolute rest, they would appear perspectively to recede from the point in space toward which the Sun was directing its course. But the ultimate result of this investigation, confirmed by the calculus of probabilities, is, that our solar system and the stars both change their places in space. According to the admirable researches of d'Argelander at Abo, who has extended and more perfectly developed the work begun by William Herschel and Prevost, the Sun moves in the direction of the constellation Hercules, and probably, from the combination of the observations made of 537 stars, toward a point lying (at the equinox of 1792.5) at 257ºdegrees 49.'7 R.A., and 28ºdegrees 49.'7 N.D. It is extremely difficult, in investigations of this nature, to separate the absolute from the relative motion, and to determine what is aloone owing to the solar system.*

[footnote] *Regarding the motion of the solar system, according to Bradley, Tobias Mayer, Lambert, Lalande, and William Herschel, see Arago in the 'Annuaire', 1842, p. 388-399' Argelander, in Schum., 'Astron. Nachr ., No. 363, 364, 398, and in the treatise 'Von der eigenen Bewegung des Sonnensystems' (On the proper Motion of the Solar System), 1837, s. 43, respecting Perseus as the central body of the whole stellar stratum, likewise Otho Struve, in the 'Bull. de l'Acad. de St. Pétersb.', 1842, t. x., No. 9, p. 137-139. The last-named astronomer has found, by a mo4re recent combination, 261ºdegrees 23' R.A.+37ºdegrees 36' Decl. for the direction of the Sun's motion; and, taking the mean of his own results with that of Argelander, we have, by a combination of 797 stars, the formula 259ºdegrees 9' R.A.+34ºdegrees 36' Decl.

If we consider the proper, and not the perspective motions of the stars, we shall find many that appear to be distributed in groups, having an opposite direction; and facts hitherto observed do not, at any rate, render it a necessary assumption that all parts of our starry stratum, or the whole of the stellar islands filling space, should move round one large unknown luminous or non-luminous central body. The tendency of the human mind to investigate ultimate and highest causes certainly inclines the intellectual activity, no less than the imagination of mankind, to adopt such an hypothesis. Even the Stagirite proclaimed that "every thing which is moved must be referable to a motor, and that there would be no end to p 147 the concatenation of causes if there were not one primordial immovable morot."*

[footnote] *Aristot., 'de Cælo', iii., 2, p. 301, Bekker: 'Phys.', viii., t, p. 256.

This material taken from pages 147-203

COSMOS: A Sketch of the Physical Description of the Universe, Vol. 1 by Alexander von Humboldt

Translated by E C Otte

from the 1858 Harper & Brothers edition of Cosmos, volume 1 --------------------------------------------------

The manifold translatory changes of the stars, not those produced by the parallaxes at which they are seen from the changing position of the spectator, but the true changes constantly going on in the regions of space, afford us incontrovertible evidence of the 'dominion of the laws of attraction' in the remotest regions of space, beyond the limits of our solar system. The existence of these laws is revealed to us by many phenomena, as, for instance, by the motion of double stars, and by the amount of retarded or accelerated motion in different parts of their elliptic orbits. Human inquiry need no longer pursue this subject in the domain of vague conjecture, or amid the undefined analogies of the ideal world; for even here the progress made in the method of astronomical observations and calculations has enabled astronomy to take up its position on a firm basis. It is not only the discovery of the astounding numbers of double and multiple stars revolving round a center of gravity lying 'without' their system (2800 such systems having been discovered up to 1837), but rather the extension of our knowledge regarding the fundamental forces of the whole material world, and the proofs we have obtained of the universal empire of the laws of attraction, that must be ranked among the most brilliant discoveries of the age. The periods of revolution of colored stars present the greatest differences; thus, in some instances, the period extends to 43 years, as in πpi of Corona, and in others to several thousands,, as in 66 of Cetus, 38 of Gemini, and 100 of Pisces. Since Herschel's measurements in 1782, the satellite of the nearest star in the triple system of [Greek letter] of Cancer has completed more than one entire revolution. By a skillful combination of the altered distances and angles of position,* the elements of these orbits may be found, conclusions drawn regarding the absolute distance of the double stars from the Earth, and comparisons made between their mass and that of the Sun.

[footnote] *Savary, in the 'Connaissance des Tems', 1830, p. 56 and 163. Encke, 'Berl. Jahrb.', 1832, s. 253, etc. Arago, in the 'Annuaire' 1834, p. 260, 295. John Herschel, in the 'Memoirs of the Astronom. Soc.', vol. v., p. 171.

Whether, however, here and in our solar system, quantity of matter is the only standard of the amount of attractive force, or whether 'specific' forces of attraction proportionate to the mass may not at the same time come into operation, as Bessel was the first to conjecture, are questions p 148 whose practical solution must be left to future ages.*

[footnote] * Bessel, 'Untersuchung. des Theils der planetarischen Storungen, welche aus der Bewegung der Sonne entstchen' (An Investigation of the portion of the Planetary Disturbances depending on the motion of the Sun) in 'Abh. der Berl. Akad. der Wissensch.', 1824 (Mathem. Classe), s. 2-6. The question has been raised by John Tobias Mayer, in 'Comment. Soc. Reg. Gotting.', 1804-1808, vol. xvi., p. 31-68.

When we compare our Sun with the other fixed stars, that is, with other self-luminous Suns in the lenticular starry stratum of which our system forms a part, we find, at least in the case of some, that channels are opened to us, which may lead, at all events, to an 'approximate' and limited knowledge of their relative distances, volumes, and masses, and of the velocities of their translatory motion. If we assume the distance of Uranus from the Sun to be nineteen times that of the Earth, that is to say, nineteen times as great as that of the Sun from the Earth, the central body of our planetary system will be 11,900 times the distance of Uranus from the star 'a' in the constellation Centaur, almost 31,300 from 61 Cygni, and 41,600 from Vega in the constellation Lyra. The comparison of the volume of the Sun with that of the fixed stars of the first magnitude is dependent upon the apparent diameter of the latter bodies -- an extremely undertain optical element. If even we assume, with Herschel, that the apparent diameter of Arcturus is only a tenth part of a second, it still follows that the true diameter of this star is eleven times greater than that of the Sun.*

[footnote] *'Philos. Trans.' for 1803, p. 225. Arago, in the 'Annuaire', 1842, p. 375. In order to obtain a clearer idea of the distances ascribed in a rather earlier part of the text to the fixed stars, let us assume that the Earth is a distance of one foot from the Sun; Uranus is then 19 feet, and Vega Lyrae is 158 geographical miles from it.

The distance of the star 61 Cygni, made known by Bessel, has led approximately to a knowledge of the quantity of matter contained in this body as a double star. Notwithstanding that, since Bradley's observations, the portion of the apparent orbit traversed by this star is not sufficiently great to admit of our arriving with perfect exactness at the true orbit nd the major axis of this star, it has been conjectured with much probability by the great Konigsberg astronomer,* "that the mass of this double star can not be very considerably larger or smaller than half of the mass of the Sun."

[footnote] *Bessel, in Schum., 'Jahrb.', 1839, s. 53.

This result is from actual measurement. The analogies deduced from the relatively larger mass of those planets in our solar system that are attended by satellites, and from the fact that Struve has discovered six times more double stars among p 194 the brighter than among the telescopic fixed stars, have led other astronomers to conjecture that the average mass of the larger number of the binary stars exceeds the mass of the Sun.*

[footnote] *Mädler, 'Astron.', s. 476; also in Schum, 'Jahrb.', 1839, s. 95.

We are, however, far from having arrived at general results regarding this subject. Our Sun, according to Argenlander, belongs, with reference to proper motion in space, to the class of rapidly-moving fixed stars.

The aspect of the starry heavens, the relative position of stars and nebullae, the distribution of their luminous masses, the picturesque beauty, if I may so express myself, of the whole firmament, depend in the course of ages conjointly upon the proper motion of the stars and nebulae, the translation of our solar system in space, the appearance of new stars, and the disappearance or sudden diminution in the intensity of the light of others, and lastly and specially, on the changes which the Earth's axis experiences from the attraction of the Sun and Moon. The beautiful stars in the constellation of the Centaur and the Southern Cross will at some future time be visible in our northern latitudes, while other stars, as Sirius and the stars in the Belt of Orion, will in their turn disappear below the horizon. The places of the North Pole will successively be indicated by the stars ß beta and a alpha Cephei, and ∂ delta Cygni, until after a period of 12,000 years, Vega in Lyra will shine forth as the brightest of all possible pole stars. These data give us some idea of the extent of the motions which, divided into infinitely small portions of time, proceed without intermission in the great chronometer of the universe. If for a moment we could yield to the power of fancy, and imagine the acuteness of our visual organs to be made equal with the extremest bounds of telescopic vision, and bring together that which is now divided by long periods of time, the apparent rest that reigns in space would suddenly disappear. We should see the countless host of fixed stars moving in thronged groups in different directions; nebulae wandering through space, and becoming condensed and dissolved like cosmical clouds; the vail of the Milky Way separated and broken up in many parts, and 'motion' ruling supreme in every portion of the vault of heave, even as on the Earth's surface, where we see it unfolded in the germ, the leaf, and the blossom, the organisms of the vegetable world. The celebrated Spanish botanist Cavanilles was the first who entertained the idea of "seeing grass grow," and he directed the horizontal micrometer threads of a powerfully magnifying glass at one time to p 150 the apex of the shoot of a bambusa, and at another on the rapidly-growing stem of an American aloe ('Agave Americana', precisely as the astronomer places his cross of net-work against a culminating star. In the collective life of physical nature, in the organic as in the sidereal world, all things that have been, that are, and will be, are alike dependent on motion.

The breaking up of the Milky Way, of which I have just spoken, requires special notice. William Herschel, our safe and admirable guide to this portion of the regions of space, has discovered by his star-guagings that the telescopic breadth of the Milky Way extends from six to seven degrees beyond what is indicated by our astronomical maps and by the extent of the sidereal radiance visible to the naked eye.*

[footnote] *Sir William Herschel, in the 'Philos. Transact.' for 1817, Part ii p. 438.

The two brilliant nodes in which the branches of the zone unite, in the region of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, and in the vicinity of Scorpio and Sagittarius, appear to exercise a powerful attraction on the contiguous stars; in the most brilliant part, however between beta and [Greek symbol] Cygni, one half of the 330,000 stars that have been discovered in a breadth of 5 degrees are directed toward one side, and the remainder to the other. It is in this part that Herschel supposes the layer to be broken up.*

[footnote] *Arago, in the 'Annuaire', 1842, p. 569

The number of telescopic stars in the Milky Way uninterrupted by any nebulae is estimated at 18 millions. In order, I will not say, to realize the greatness of this number, but, at any rate, to compare it with something analogous, I will call attention to the fact that there are not in the whole heavens more than about 8000 stars between the first and the sixth magnitudes, visible to the naked eye. The barren astonishment excited by numbers and dimensions in space, when not considered with reference to applications engaging the mental and perceptive powers of man, is awakened in both extremes of the universe, in the celestial bodies as in the minutest animalcules.*

[footnote] *Sir John Herschel, in a letter from Feldhuysen, dated Jan. 13th, 1836. Nicholl, 'Architecture of the Heavens', 1838, p. 22. (See, also, some separate notices by Sir William Herschel on the starless space which separates us by a great distance from the Milky Way, in the 'Philos. Transact.' for 1817, Part ii., p. 328.)

A cubic inch of the polishing slate of Bilin contains, according to Ehrenberg, 40,000 millions of the silicious shells of Galionellae.

The stellar Milky Way, in the region of which, according to Argelander's admirable observations, the brightest stars of the firmament appear to be congregated, is almost at right angles p 151 with another Milky Way, composed of nebulae. The former constitutes, according to Sir John Herschel's views, an annulus, that is to say, an independent zone, somewhat remote from our lenticular-shaped starry stratum, and similar to Saturn's ring. Our planetary system lies in an eccentric direction, nearer to the region of the Cross than to the diametrically opposite point, Cassiopeia.*

[footnote] *Sir John Herschel, 'Astronom.', 624; likewise in his 'Observations on Nebulae and Clusters of Stars' ('Phil. Transact.', 1833,