Part 11

These were the essential features of the considerations which led Kant and Laplace to their hypothesis. In their view our system was originally a chaotic ball of nebulous matter, of which originally, when it extended to the path of the most distant planet, many billions of cubic miles could contain scarcely a gramme of mass. This ball, when it had become detached from the nebulous balls of the adjacent fixed stars, possessed a slow movement of rotation. It became condensed under the influence of the reciprocal attraction of its parts; and, in the degree in which it condensed, the rotatory motion increased, and formed it into a flat disk. From time to time masses at the circumference of this disk became detached under the influence of the increasing centrifugal force; that which became detached formed again into a rotating nebulous mass, which either simply condensed and formed a planet, or during this condensation again repelled masses from the periphery, which became satellites, or in one case, that of Saturn, remained as a coherent ring. In another case, the mass which separated from the outside of the chief ball, divided into many parts, detached from each other, and furnished the swarms of small planets between Mars and Jupiter.

Our more recent experience as to the nature of star showers teaches us that this process of the condensation of loosely diffused masses to form larger bodies is by no means complete, but still goes on, though the traces are slight. The form in which it now appears is altered by the fact that meanwhile the gaseous or dust-like mass diffused in space had united under the influence of the force of attraction, and of the force of crystallisation of their constituents, to larger pieces than originally existed.

The showers of stars, as examples now taking place of the process which formed the heavenly bodies, are important from another point of view. They develop light and heat; and that directs us to a third series of considerations, which leads again to the same goal.

All life and all motion on our earth is, with few exceptions, kept up by a single force, that of the sun’s rays, which bring to us light and heat. They warm the air of the hot zones, this becomes lighter and ascends, while the colder air flows towards the poles. Thus is formed the great circulation of the passage-winds. Local differences of temperature over land and sea, plains and mountains, disturb the uniformity of this great motion, and produce for us the capricious change of winds. Warm aqueous vapours ascend with the warm air, become condensed into clouds, and fall in the cooler zones, and upon the snowy tops of the mountains, as rain and as snow. The water collects in brooks, in rivers, moistens the plains, and makes life possible; crumbles the stones, carries their fragments along, and thus works at the geological transformation of the earth’s surface. It is only under the influence of the sun’s rays that the variegated covering of plants of the earth grows; and while they grow, they accumulate in their structure organic matter, which partly serves the whole animal kingdom as food, and serves man more particularly as fuel. Coals and lignites, the sources of power of our steam engines, are remains of primitive plants--the ancient production of the sun’s rays.

Need we wonder if, to our forefathers of the Aryan race in India and Persia, the sun appeared as the fittest symbol of the Deity? They were right in regarding it as the giver of all life--as the ultimate source of almost all that has happened on earth.

But whence does the sun acquire this force? It radiates forth a more intense light than can be attained with any terrestrial means. It yields as much heat as if 1,500 pounds of coal were burned every hour upon each square foot of its surface. Of the heat which thus issues from it, the small fraction which enters our atmosphere furnishes a great mechanical force. Every steam-engine teaches us that heat can produce such force. The sun, in fact, drives on earth a kind of steam-engine whose performances are far greater than those of artificially constructed machines. The circulation of water in the atmosphere raises, as has been said, the water evaporated from the warm tropical seas to the mountain heights; it is, as it were, a water-raising engine of the most magnificent kind, with whose power no artificial machine can be even distantly compared. I have previously explained the mechanical equivalent of heat. Calculated by that standard, the work which the sun produces by its radiation is equal to the constant exertion of 7,000 horse-power for each square foot of the sun’s surface.

For a long time experience had impressed on our mechanicians that a working force cannot be produced from nothing; that it can only be taken from the stores which nature possesses; which are strictly limited and which cannot be increased at pleasure--whether it be taken from the rushing water or from the wind; whether from the layers of coal, or from men and from animals, which cannot work without the consumption of food. Modern physics has attempted to prove the universality of this experience, to show that it applies to the great whole of all natural processes, and is independent of the special interests of man. These have been generalised and comprehended in the all-ruling natural law of the _Conservation of Force_. No natural process, and no series of natural processes, can be found, however manifold may be the changes which take place among them, by which a motive force can be continuously produced without a corresponding consumption. Just as the human race finds on earth but a limited supply of motive forces, capable of producing work, which it can utilise but not increase, so also must this be the case in the great whole of nature. The universe has its definite store of force, which works in it under ever varying forms; is indestructible, not to be increased, everlasting and unchangeable like matter itself. It seems as if Goethe had an idea of this when he makes the earth-spirit speak of himself as the representative of natural force.

In the currents of life, in the tempests of motion, In the fervour of art, in the fire, in the storm, Hither and thither, Over and under, Wend I and wander. Birth and the grave, Limitless ocean, Where the restless wave Undulates ever Under and over, Their seething strife Heaving and weaving The changes of life. At the whirling loom of time unawed, I work the living mantle of God.

Let us return to the special question which concerns us here: Whence does the sun derive this enormous store of force which it sends out?

On earth the processes of combustion are the most abundant source of heat. Does the sun’s heat originate in a process of this kind? To this question we can reply with a complete and decided negative, for we now know that the sun contains the terrestrial elements with which we are acquainted. Let us select from among them the two, which, for the smallest mass, produce the greatest amount of heat when they combine; let us assume that the sun consists of hydrogen and oxygen, mixed in the proportion in which they would unite to form water. The mass of the sun is known, and also the quantity of heat produced by the union of known weights of oxygen and hydrogen. Calculation shows that under the above supposition, the heat resulting from their combustion would be sufficient to keep up the radiation of heat from the sun for 3,021 years. That, it is true, is a long time, but even profane history teaches that the sun has lighted and warmed us for 3,000 years, and geology puts it beyond doubt that this period must be extended to millions of years.

Known chemical forces are thus so completely inadequate, even on the most favourable assumption, to explain the production of heat which takes place in the sun, that we must quite drop this hypothesis.

We must seek for forces of far greater magnitude, and these we can only find in cosmical attraction. We have already seen that the comparatively small masses of shooting-stars and meteorites can produce extraordinarily large amounts of heat when their cosmical velocities are arrested by our atmosphere. Now the force which has produced these great velocities is gravitation. We know of this force as one acting on the surface of our planet when it appears as terrestrial gravity. We know that a weight _raised from the earth_ can drive our clocks, and that in like manner the gravity of the water rushing down from the mountains works our mills.

If a weight falls from a height and strikes the ground its mass loses, indeed, the visible motion which it had as a whole--in fact, however, this motion is not lost; it is transferred to the smallest elementary particles of the mass, and this invisible vibration of the molecules is the motion of heat. Visible motion is transformed by impact, into the motion of heat.

That which holds in this respect for gravity, holds also for gravitation. A heavy mass, of whatever kind, which is suspended in space separated from another heavy mass, represents a force capable of work. For both masses attract each other, and, if unrestrained by centrifugal force, they move towards each other under the influence of this attraction; this takes place with ever-increasing velocity; and if this velocity is finally destroyed, whether this be suddenly, by collision, or gradually, by the friction of movable parts, it develops the corresponding quantity of the motion of heat, the amount of which can be calculated from the equivalence, previously established, between heat and mechanical work.

Now we may assume with great probability that very many more meteors fall upon the sun than upon the earth, and with greater velocity, too, and therefore give more heat. Yet the hypothesis, that the entire amount of the sun’s heat which is continually lost by radiation, is made up by the fall of meteors, a hypothesis which was propounded by Mayer, and has been favourably adopted by several other physicists, is open, according to Sir W. Thomson’s investigations, to objection; for, assuming it to hold, the mass of the sun should increase so rapidly that the consequences would have shown themselves in the accelerated motion of the planets. The entire loss of heat from the sun cannot at all events be produced in this way; at the most a portion, which, however, may not be inconsiderable.

If, now, there is no present manifestation of force sufficient to cover the expenditure of the sun’s heat, the sun must originally have had a store of heat which it gradually gives out. But whence this store? We know that the cosmical forces alone could have produced it. And here the hypothesis, previously discussed as to the origin of the sun, comes to our aid. If the mass of the sun had been once diffused in cosmical space, and had then been condensed--that is, had fallen together under the influence of celestial gravity--if then the resultant motion had been destroyed by friction and impact, with the production of heat, the new world produced by such condensation must have acquired a store of heat not only of considerable, but even of colossal, magnitude.

Calculation shows that, assuming the thermal capacity of the sun to be the same as that of water, the temperature might be raised to 28,000,000 of degrees, if this quantity of heat could ever have been present in the sun at one time. This cannot be assumed, for such an increase of temperature would offer the greatest hindrance to condensation. It is probable rather that a great part of this heat, which was produced by condensation, began to radiate into space before this condensation was complete. But the heat which the sun could have previously developed by its condensation, would have been sufficient to cover its present expenditure for not less than 22,000,000 of years of the past.

And the sun is by no means so dense as it may become. Spectrum analysis demonstrates the presence of large masses of iron and of other known constituents of the rocks. The pressure which endeavours to condense the interior is about 800 times as great as that in the centre of the earth; and yet the density of the sun, owing probably to its enormous temperature, is less than a quarter of the mean density of the earth.

We may therefore assume with great probability that the sun will still continue in its condensation, even if it only attained the density of the earth--though it will probably become far denser in the interior owing to the enormous pressure--this would develop fresh quantities of heat, which would be sufficient to maintain for an additional 17,000,000 of years the same intensity of sunshine as that which is now the source of all terrestrial life.

The smaller bodies of our system might become less hot than the sun, because the attraction of the fresh masses would be feebler. A body like the earth might, if even we put its thermal capacity as high as that of water, become heated to even 9,000 degrees, to more than our flames can produce. The smaller bodies must cool more rapidly as long as they are still liquid. The increase in temperature, with the depth, is shown in bore-holes and in mines. The existence of hot wells and of volcanic eruptions shows that in the interior of the earth there is a very high temperature, which can scarcely be anything than a remnant of the high temperature which prevailed at the time of its production. At any rate, the attempts to discover for the internal heat of the earth a more recent origin in chemical processes, have hitherto rested on very arbitrary assumptions; and, compared with the general uniform distribution of the internal heat, are somewhat insufficient.

On the other hand, considering the huge masses of Jupiter, of Saturn, of Uranus, and of Neptune, their small density, as well as that of the sun, is surprising, while the smaller planets and the moon approximate to the density of the earth. We are here reminded of the higher initial temperature, and the slower cooling, which characterises larger masses.[26] The moon, on the contrary, exhibits formations on its surface which are strikingly suggestive of volcanic craters, and point to a former state of ignition of our satellite. The mode of its rotation, moreover, that it always turns the same side towards the earth, is a peculiarity which might have been produced by the friction of a fluid. At present no trace of such a one can be perceived.

[Footnote 26: Mr. Zoellner concludes from photometric measurements, which, however, need confirmation, that Jupiter still possesses a light of its own.]

You see, thus, by what various paths we are constantly led to the same primitive conditions. The hypothesis of Kant and Laplace is seen to be one of the happiest ideas in science, which at first astounds us, and then connects us in all directions with other discoveries, by which the conclusions are confirmed until we have confidence in them. In this case another circumstance has contributed--that is, the observation that this process of transformation, which the theory in question presupposes, goes on still, though on a smaller scale, seeing that all stages of that process can still be found to exist.

For as we have already seen, the larger bodies which are already formed go on increasing with the development of heat, by the attraction of the meteoric masses already diffused in space. Even now the smaller bodies are slowly drawn towards the sun by the resistance in space. We still find in the firmament of fixed stars, according to Sir J. Herschel’s newest catalogue, over 5,000 nebulous spots, of which those whose light is sufficiently strong give for the most part a coloured spectrum of fine bright lines, as they appear in the spectra of the ignited gases. The nebulæ are partly rounded structures, which are called _planetary nebulæ_ (fig. 12); sometimes wholly irregular in form, as the large nebula in Orion, represented in fig. 13; they are partly annular, as in the figures in fig. 14, from the Canes Venatici. They are for the most part feebly luminous over their whole surface, while the fixed stars only appear as luminous points.

In many nebulæ small stars can be seen, as in figs. 15 and 16, from Sagittarius and Aurigo. More stars are continually being discovered in them, the better are the telescopes used in their analysis. Thus, before the discovery of spectrum analysis, Sir W. Herschel’s former view might be regarded as the most probable, that that which we see to be nebulæ are only heaps of very fine stars, of other Milky Ways. Now, however, spectrum analysis has shown a gas spectrum in many nebulæ which contains stars, while actual heaps of stars show the continuous spectrum of ignited solid bodies. Nebulæ have in general three distinctly recognisable lines, one of which, in the blue, belongs to hydrogen, a second in bluish-green to nitrogen,[27] while the third, between the two, is of unknown origin. Fig. 17 shows such a spectrum of a small but bright nebula in the Dragon. Traces of other bright lines are seen along with them, and sometimes also, as in fig. 17, traces of a continuous spectrum; all of which, however, are too feeble to admit of accurate investigation. It must be observed here that the light of very feeble objects which give a continuous spectrum are distributed by the spectroscope over a large surface, and are therefore greatly enfeebled or even extinguished, while the undecomposable light of bright gas lines remains undecomposed, and hence can still be seen. In any case, the decomposition of the light of the nebulæ shows that by far the greater part of their luminous surface is due to ignited gases, of which hydrogen forms a prominent constituent. In the planetary masses, the spherical or discoidal, it might be supposed that the gaseous mass had attained a condition of equilibrium; but most other nebulæ exhibit highly irregular forms, which by no means correspond to such a condition. As, however, their shape has either not at all altered, or not appreciably, since they have been known and observed, they must either have very little mass, or they must be of colossal size and distance. The former does not appear very probable, because small masses very soon give out their heat, and hence we are left to the second alternative, that they are of huge dimensions and distances. The same conclusion had been originally drawn by Sir W. Herschel, on the assumption that the nebulæ were heaps of stars.

[Footnote 27: Or perhaps also to oxygen. The line occurs in the spectrum of atmospheric air, and according to H. C. Vogel’s observations was wanting in the spectrum of pure oxygen.]

With those nebulæ which, besides the lines of gases, also show the continuous spectrum of ignited denser bodies, are connected spots which are partly irresolvable and partly resolvable into heaps of stars, which only show the light of the latter kind.

The countless luminous stars of the heavenly firmament, whose number increases with each newer and more perfect telescope, associate themselves with this primitive condition of the worlds as they are formed. They are like our sun in magnitude, in luminosity, and on the whole also in the chemical condition of their surface, although there may be differences in the quantity of individual elements.

But we find also in space a third stadium, that of extinct suns; and for this also there are actual evidences. In the first place, there are, in the course of history, pretty frequent examples of the appearance of new stars. In 1572 Tycho Brahe observed such a one, which, though gradually burning paler, was visible for two years, stood still like a fixed star, and finally reverted to the darkness from which it had so suddenly emerged. The largest of them all seems to have been that observed by Kepler in the year 1604, which was brighter than a star of the first magnitude, and was observed from September 27, 1604, until March 1606. The reason of its luminosity was probably the collision with a smaller world. In a more recent case, in which on May 12, 1866, a small star of the tenth magnitude in the Corona suddenly burst out to one of the second magnitude, spectrum analysis showed that it was an outburst of ignited hydrogen which produced the light. This was only luminous for twelve days.

In other cases obscure heavenly bodies have discovered themselves by their attraction on adjacent bright stars, and the motions of the latter thereby produced. Such an influence is observed in Sirius and Procyon. By means of a new refracting telescope Messrs. Alvan Clarke and Pond, of Cambridge, U.S., have discovered in the case of Sirius a scarcely visible star, which has but little luminosity, but is almost seven times as heavy as the sun, has about half the mass of Sirius, and whose distance from Sirius is about equal to that of Neptune from the sun. The satellite of Procyon has not yet been seen; it appears to be quite dark.

Thus there are extinct suns. The fact that there are such lends new weight to the reasons which permit us to conclude that our sun also is a body which slowly gives out its store of heat, and thus will some time become extinct.

The term of 17,000,000 years which I have given may perhaps become considerably prolonged by the gradual abatement of radiation, by the new accretion of falling meteors, and by still greater condensation than that which I have assumed in that calculation. But we know of no natural process which could spare our sun the fate which has manifestly fallen upon other suns. This is a thought which we only reluctantly admit; it seems to us an insult to the beneficent Creative Power which we otherwise find at work in organisms and especially in living ones. But we must reconcile ourselves to the thought that, however we may consider ourselves to be the centre and final object of Creation, we are but as dust on the earth; which again is but a speck of dust in the immensity of space; and the previous duration of our race, even if we follow it far beyond our written history, into the era of the lake dwellings or of the mammoth, is but an instant compared with the primeval times of our planet; when living beings existed upon it, whose strange and unearthly remains still gaze at us from their ancient tombs; and far more does the duration of our race sink into insignificance compared with the enormous periods during which worlds have been in process of formation, and will still continue to form when our sun is extinguished, and our earth is either solidified in cold or is united with the ignited central body of our system.