Part 11
This relates to but one era only of our earth's past. That era was preceded by others which are usually considered to have lasted much longer. The earth, according to the nebular theory of Laplace, was once a mighty ring surrounding the sun, and had to contract into globe form, a process requiring many millions of years. When first formed into a globe she was vaporous, and had to contract--forming the moon in so doing--until she became a mass, first of liquid, then of plastic half solid matter, glowing with fire and covered with tracts of fluent heat. Here was another stage of her past existence, requiring probably many hundreds of millions of years. Jupiter and Saturn had to pass through similar stages of development, and required many times as many years for each of them. Is it then reasonable to suppose that they have arrived at the same stage of development as our earth, or indeed as each other.
Supposing for a moment that we were fully assured that Jupiter and Saturn had separate existence, hundreds of millions of years before our earth had been separated from the great glowing mass of vapour formerly constituting the solar system, and that having this enormous start, so to speak, they need not necessarily be regarded as now very greatly in arrear as respects development, or might even be in advance of the earth, it is altogether improbable that either of them, and far more improbable that both of them, are passing through precisely the same stage of development. If we knew only of two ships, that one had to travel from New York to London, and another from Canton to Liverpool, some time during the year, and that the one which had to make the longer journey was likely to start several weeks before the other, would it not be rather unsafe to conclude, when the former had entered the mouth of the Thames, that in all probability the other was sailing up the Mersey? Yet something like this, or in reality much wilder than this, is the reasoning which permits the student of science to believe, independently of the evidence, or altogether against all evidence, that Jupiter and Saturn are necessarily passing through the very stage of planetary existence through which the one planet we know much about is passing.
It seems to me that the student of science should be prepared to widen his conceptions of time even as he has been compelled to widen his conceptions of space. As he knows that the planets are not, as was once supposed, mere attendants upon our earth and belonging to her special domain in space, so should he understand that neither do the other planets appertain of necessity to the domain of time in which our earth's existence has been cast, or only do so in the same sense that like her they occupy a certain domain in space, not her domain, but the sun's. Their history in time, like hers, doubtless belongs to the history of the solar system, but the duration of that system enormously surpasses the duration of the earth as a planet, and immeasurably surpasses the duration of that particular stage of life through which she is now passing.
Prepared thus to view the other planets independently of preconceived ideas as to their resemblance to our own earth, we shall not find much occasion to hesitate, I think, in accepting the conclusion that Jupiter is a very much younger planet.
We have seen already that the enormous mass of Jupiter, surpassing that of our earth 340 times, is suggestive of the enormous duration of every stage of his existence, and therefore of his present extreme youth. His bulk yet more enormously exceeds that of our earth, as, according to the best measurements, no less than 1230 globes, as large as our earth, might be formed out of the mighty volume of the prince of planets. In this superiority of bulk, nearly four times greater than his vast superiority of mass, we find the first direct evidence from observation in favour of the theory that Jupiter is still intensely hot. How can a mass so vast, possessing an attractive power in its own substance so great that, under similar conditions, it should be compressed to a far greater degree than our earth, and be, therefore, considerably more dense, come to be considerably rarer? We no longer believe that there is any great diversity of material throughout the solar system. We cannot suppose, as Whewell once invited us to do, that Jupiter consists wholly or almost wholly of water. Nor can we imagine that any material much lighter than ordinary rocks constitutes the chief portion of his bulk. We are, to all intents and purposes, forced to believe that the contractive effect due to his mighty attractive energy is counteracted by some other force. Nor can we hesitate, since this is admitted, to look for the resisting force in the expansive effects due to heat. We know that in the case of the sun, where a much mightier contractive power is at work, a much more intense heat so resists it that the sun has a mean density no greater than Jupiter's. We have every reason, then, which bulk and mass can supply, to believe that Jupiter is far hotter than the earth--that in fact, as the sun, exceeding Jupiter more than 1000 times in volume, is many times hotter than he is, so Jupiter, exceeding our earth 1200 times in volume, is very much hotter than the earth.
But when we consider the aspect of Jupiter we find that similar reasoning applies to his atmosphere. The telescope shows Jupiter as an orb continually varying in aspect, so as to assure us that we do not see his real surface. The variable envelope we do see presents, further, all the appearance of being laden with enormously deep clouds. The figure (24) shows the planet as seen by Herr Lohse on February 5, 1872, and serves to illustrate the rounded clouds often seen in Jupiter's equatorial zone, as though floating in the deep atmosphere there. Although rounded clouds such as these are not constantly present, they are very often seen; their appearance, even on a few occasions only, would suffice for the argument I now propose to draw from them. It is impossible to regard them as _flat_ round clouds. Manifestly they are globular. Now they may not be quite as deep as they are long, or even broad, but supposing them only half as deep as they are broad, that would correspond to much more than a third of the diameter of our earth, shown in the same picture. The atmosphere in which they float would necessarily be deeper still, but that depth alone would be about 3,000 miles. Now an atmosphere 3,000 miles deep under the tremendous attraction of Jupiter's mass would be compressed near its base to a density many times exceeding that of the densest solids _if_ (which of course is impossible) it could remain in the gaseous form with such density. The fact, then, that an atmosphere, certainly gaseous, exists around Jupiter to this enormous depth at least, proves to demonstration that there must be some power resisting its attractive energy; and again, we have little choice but to admit that that power is no other than the planet's intense heat.
As we extend our scrutiny into the evidence from direct observation, we find still other proofs independent of those just considered. One proof alone, be it remembered, is all that is required, but it will be found that there are many.
* * * * *
We have found reasons for believing that the planet Jupiter is expanded by heat in such sort that the contractive or condensing power of his own mighty attractive energy is overcome. We know certainly that, regarding the planet we see as a whole, its globe is of very small density. We have every reason to believe that it is made of the same materials, speaking generally, as our earth. We know that its mass as a whole possesses many times the gravitating power of our earth's mass. It is highly probable, therefore, that the condition of its substance is very different from that of our earth's substance. And as we know of no cause save heat which could keep the planet in this state, it is altogether probable that the planet is extremely hot. The argument, be it noticed, is independent of that based on the probability that Jupiter, owing to his enormous mass, has not cooled nearly so much as our earth has.
We then noticed another very powerful argument, similar in kind, but also quite independent, derived from the aspect of the planet. Jupiter's appearance indicates clearly that he has a deep cloud-laden atmosphere, and we know that such an atmosphere, if of the same temperature as our earth's, would be compressed enormously, whereas the observed mobility of Jupiter's cloud-envelope, and other circumstances, indicate that this enormous compression does not exist. We infer, then, that some cause is at work expanding the atmosphere; and we know of no other cause but heat which could do so effectively.
But now let us consider certain details which the telescope has brought to our knowledge.
In the first place, a number of circumstances indicate a tremendous activity in that deep cloud-laden air.
The cloud-belts sometimes change remarkably in appearance and shape in a very short time. Mr. Webb, in his excellent little treatise, "Celestial Objects for Common Telescopes," gives instances from the observations of South, which I here translate into non-technical terms:--On June 3, 1839, at about nine in the evening, South saw with his large telescope, just below the principal belt of Jupiter, a spot of enormous size. It was dark, and therefore probably represented an opening in a great cloud-layer by which a lower or inner layer was brought into view. (For though the planet's real globe may be so intensely hot as to emit a great deal of light, it is probable that most of the light so emitted is concealed by the enwrapping cloud masses, and that the greater part of the light we receive from the planet is reflected sunlight; so that the inner cloud-layers would be the darker.) South estimated this spot as about 20,000 miles in diameter. "I showed it," he says, "to some gentlemen who were present; its enormous extent was such that on my wishing to have a portrait of it, one of the gentlemen, who was a good draughtsman, kindly undertook to draw me one; whilst I, on the other hand, extremely desirous that its actual magnitude should not rest on estimation, proposed, on account of the scandalous unsteadiness of the large instrument, to measure it with my five-feet telescope. Having obtained for my companion the necessary drawing instruments, I went to work, he preparing himself to commence his." But on looking into the telescope, South was astonished to find that the large dark spot, except at its eastern and western edges, had become much whiter than any of the other parts of the planet; and thirty-four minutes after these observations had commenced, "these" [query three?] "miserable scraps were the only remains of a spot which but a few minutes before had extended over at least 20,000 miles,--or two and a half times the diameter of the earth."
The cloud envelope, then, of Jupiter is certainly not in a state of quiescence. Of course we need not suppose that winds had carried cloud masses athwart the tremendous opening seen by South. That would imply a motion of 10,000 miles in the half-hour or so of observation,--supposing contrary winds to have rushed towards the centre,--or double that velocity if the entire breadth of the spot had been traversed in that time. A velocity of 20,000 miles, and still more of 40,000 miles per hour, may fairly be regarded as incredible. It would exceed more than a hundred-fold (taking the least number) the velocity of our most tremendous hurricanes. And although the solar hurricanes would seem to have a velocity, at times, of 300,000 or 400,000 miles per hour, we have no reason for supposing that winds of tens of thousands of miles per hour could be raised in the atmosphere of Jupiter. As I have said, however, it is not necessary to suppose this. We may conceive that clouds had formed very rapidly at the higher elevation where before they had been wanting. Clouds may form as readily and quickly over an area a thousand miles across as over an area two or three miles across. Indeed Webb, referring to such changes as South witnessed, says that Sir J. Herschel once observed a cloud-bank in our own air, which formed so rapidly that it crossed the sky at the rate of 300 miles an hour, not moving, of course, at that rate, but being formed along different parts of its apparent progress almost simultaneously, so as to appear to travel with this enormous velocity.
But now I wish the reader specially to notice how this observation of South's may serve to explain another, equally remarkable and at first sight far more perplexing; and how, when the two observations are brought together, a very singular piece of information is obtained respecting Jupiter's cloud-envelope.
Let _a b_, fig. 25, represent the great dark space seen by South, just below the principal belt, and let us suppose the planet turned round until this dark space, or rather this opening in the planet's outer cloud-envelope, is brought to the edge as at _a c d_, fig. 26. Then this opening would really cause a depression in the planet's outline at _d c_, the shaded part being depressed. The depression might not be observable in any ordinary telescope. For at the edge of Jupiter the features of the belt are generally lost, and the outline is at all times smoothed in appearance by that peculiarity of vision which makes all bright objects seen on a dark background appear somewhat larger than they actually are. (This is _really_ due to a fringing, as it were, of the image on the retina of the eye.) But though the depression might not be recognisable, it would exist, and, as we shall presently see, it might be detected in another way than by being actually seen. When the clouds formed which concealed the spot,--we do not know how quickly, but certainly in less than thirty-four minutes,--the depression, had the spot been at the edge, would have been removed. This change, however, like the existence of the depression, would doubtless not have been discernible by ordinary vision.
Now, let us consider the second observation mentioned above.
On Thursday, June 26, 1828, the second satellite of Jupiter was about to make a passage across the planet's face. It was observed, just before this passage or transit began, in the position shown in fig. 27 by the late Admiral Smyth. He was using an excellent telescope. It gradually made its entry, looking for a few minutes like a small white mountain on the edge of the planet, and finally disappeared. The reader must understand that the moon was not hiding itself behind the planet, but was on _this_ side of it, and simply lost to view because its brightness was the same, or very nearly the same, as that of the planet's edge. (Its place is shown in fig. 28, but of course the little dark ring was not so seen.) "At least 12 or 13 minutes must have elapsed," says Smyth, "when, accidentally turning to Jupiter again, to my astonishment I perceived the same satellite outside the disc," as shown in fig. 29. It remained visible there for at least four minutes, and then suddenly vanished. To show that the observation was not due to any local or personal peculiarity, it is only necessary to mention that two other astronomers, Mr. Maclear at Biggleswade, and Dr. Pearson at South Kilworth, observed the same extraordinary behaviour of Jupiter's second satellite. The three telescopes are thus described by Admiral Smyth,--
Mr. Maclear's, 3⅓ inches in opening, 3½ feet long; Dr. Pearson's, 6¾ inches in opening, 12 feet long; Adm. Smyth's, 3½ inches in opening, 5 feet long;
all good observing telescopes. Now, of course, the satellite did not really stop. Nothing short of a miracle could have stopped the satellite, or, if the satellite could have stopped, have set it travelling on again as usual. For the satellite did not lose one mile, or change its velocity by the thousandth part of a mile per hour or even per annum.
But suppose such a change had taken place at the edge of Jupiter as we have seen would certainly have taken place there if the changes affecting the spot which South saw had occurred to a region at the edge, as in fig. 26, instead of the middle, as in fig. 25. Then Smyth's observation would be perfectly explained. We require, indeed, to suppose the change occurring in a different order, the outer cloud-layer being in the first instance well-developed and very rapidly becoming dissipated, so that the outline which had at first been at its usual level, was very rapidly depressed to the inner cloud-layer. But, of course, if the rapid formation of clouds by condensation can occur on Jupiter, so also can the rapid dissipation occur, especially at that particular part where Smyth saw the satellite behave so strangely. For that part is being carried, by the planet's swift rotation, into sunlight, and the extra heat to which it is thus exposed might readily effect the dissipation of widely extended cloud strata, supposing the temperature near that critical value at which clouds form or are dissipated.
Here, then, is an explanation of a phenomenon which otherwise seems utterly inexplicable. The explanation requires only that a process like one which has been observed to occur on Jupiter's disc should occur at a part of his surface forming at the moment a portion of his outline. If we had never known of such changes as South and other observers have noted in the markings of Jupiter, we should be compelled by Smyth's observation to admit their possibility. If we had never known of Smyth's observation we should be compelled by South's to admit that such a change of outline as is indicated by Smyth's observation must be possible,--must, in fact, occur whenever cloud-masses form or are dissipated over wide areas at the apparent edge of the planet. When we have both forms of evidence it seems altogether unreasonable to entertain any further doubt on this point.
But Smyth's observation, thus interpreted, indicates an enormous distance between the outer and inner cloud-layers which formed the planet's edge near the satellite in figs. 28 and 29 respectively. I find after making every possible allowance for errors in his estimate of time, not taken it would seem from his observatory clock, that the distance separating these cloud-layers cannot have been less than 3,500 miles, or not far from half the diameter of our earth. It is the startling nature of this result which perhaps deters many from accepting the explanation of Smyth's observation here advanced. But there is no other explanation. The satellite cannot have stopped in its course; Jupiter cannot have shifted his place bodily; the satellite was on this side of the planet,--therefore no effects of the planet's atmosphere on the line of sight from the planet can help us; three observers at different stations saw the phenomenon,--therefore neither effects of our earth's atmosphere nor personal peculiarities can account for the strange phenomenon. "Explanation is set at defiance," says Webb; "demonstrably neither in the atmosphere of the earth nor Jupiter, where and what could have been the cause?" The explanation I have advanced is the only possible answer to this question.
I might occupy twenty times the space here available to me in detailing various other phenomena all pointing in the same way,--that is, all tending to show that Jupiter is a planet glowing with intense heat, surrounded by a deep cloud-laden atmosphere, intensely hot in its lower portions, but not necessarily so in the parts we see, and undergoing changes (consequences of heat) of a stupendous nature, such as the small heat of the remote sun, which shines on Jupiter with less than the 27th part of the heat we receive, could not by any possibility produce. But partly because space will not permit, partly because most of these phenomena have been described in my "Orbs Around Us," and "Other Worlds," I content myself by describing a singular observation recently made, which, with South's and Smyth's, seems to place the theory I have advanced beyond the possibility of doubt or cavil.
Mr. Todd of Adelaide has recently obtained for his observatory a fine 8-inch telescope by Mr. Cooke. With this instrument, mounted in December, 1874, he has made many valuable observations of the motions of Jupiter's satellites. Ordinarily, of course, the entry of each satellite on the planet's face and the egress therefrom, the disappearance of each satellite behind the planet or in the planet's shadow (not necessarily the same thing) and the reappearance, are effected in what may be called the normal way; and Mr. Todd's experience in this respect has been like that of other observers. But on two occasions he and his assistant, Mr. Ringwood, observed that a satellite, when passing behind the planet's edge, did not disappear at once, but remained visible as if seen through the edge, for about two minutes. The same satellite behaved thus on each occasion,--viz. the satellite nearest the planet. As this satellite travels at the rate of about 645 miles per minute, it would follow that the satellite was seen through a depth of nearly 1300 miles, or, after making all possible allowance for optical illusions, some 900 or 1000 miles. The effect of refraction cannot then be great in the air of Jupiter, to this depth below the usual limit of the upper clouds,--for otherwise the satellite would have been altogether distorted. And this very fact, that for 1000 miles or so below the highest clouds the change of atmospheric density is not sufficient to produce any noticeable refractive effects, implies that the true base of the atmosphere of Jupiter lies very far lower yet--perhaps many hundreds of miles lower.
If the reader now look again at the picture at page 201, he will understand, I think, how those great round white clouds in the chief belt,--clouds thousands of miles long and broad,--are probably hundreds of miles deep also, and float in an atmosphere still deeper.
All that we know about Jupiter, in fine, from direct observation, as well as all that we can infer respecting the past history of the solar system, tends to show that he is still an extremely young planet. He is the giant of the solar family in bulk, and probably he is far older than our earth in years; but in development he is, in all probability, the youngest of the sun's family of planets, and certainly far younger than the earth on which we live.
XI
_THE RINGED PLANET SATURN._
Very different from the ruddy planet which approached so closely to him in November, 1877, is Saturn, the ringed world, the most wonderful of all the planets if the complexity of the system attending on him is considered, and in size inferior only to the giant Jupiter.