Part 8

I am sure each intelligent boy or girl will want to know how we are able to tell all this. We have never been at the moon, and how then can we say that it is nearly destitute of air? Nor can our telescope answer this question immediately, for you could hardly expect to see air, even if it were there. How then are we able to make such assertions? There are many different ways in which we have learned the absence of air from the moon. I will tell you one of the easiest and the most certain of these methods. First let me say that air is not perfectly transparent. No doubt I can see you, and you can see me, though a good many feet of air may lie between us; but when we deal with distances much greater, there is a very simple way in which we can show that air is not quite transparent. In the evening, when the sun is setting and the sky is clear, you can look at him without discomfort; but in the middle of the day you know that it is impossible to look at the sun without shading your eyes with smoked glass or protecting them by some similar contrivance. The reason is, that when the sun is either setting or rising we look at it through an immense thickness of air, which not being perfectly transparent stops some of the light. Thus it is that the sun in these circumstances loses its dazzling brilliancy, and we can view it without discomfort.

At the seaside you can notice the same effect in a different manner. Go out on a fine and clear night, when the stars in their thousands are glittering overhead, and then look down gradually towards the horizon, and you will find the stars becoming fainter and fainter. Indeed, even the brightest star cannot be seen when it is at the horizon, because an immense thickness of the atmosphere is not transparent.

We can now state the argument by which we may prove that there is little or no air on our satellite. The moon will frequently pass between the earth and a star, and when the star is a really bright one the observations that can be made are of great interest. Let me first describe what we actually see. The star is shining brightly until the moment when the moon eclipses it. Generally speaking, its disappearance is instantaneous. But this would not be the case if the moon were encircled with an atmosphere. If the moon were coated with air, the light from the star would not be extinguished _instantly_; it would gradually decline, according as it had to pass through more and more of the moon’s atmosphere. Thus you would find that the star dwindled down in brightness before the solid body of the moon had advanced far enough to shut it out. The sudden extinction of the stars demonstrates the airless state of our satellite.

There would be another insuperable difficulty in adopting the moon as a residence, even supposing that you could get there. Water is absent from its surface. We have examined every part of it, and we find no evidences of seas or of oceans, of lakes or rivers; we never see anything like clouds or mists, which are, of course, only water in the vaporous form. We are, therefore, assured that, so far as water is concerned, the moon is an absolute desert. This is, perhaps, the most striking contrast between the aspect of the earth and the aspect of the moon. Were an astronomer on the moon to look at our earth he would find most of its surface concealed beneath clouds, and through the openings in these clouds he would see that by far the greater part of this globe was covered by the expanse of ocean; in fact, when the lunar astronomer had realized the prevalence of water upon this earth, either in the form of ocean or cloud, I feel sure he would come to the conclusion that nothing could live here except seals or other amphibious animals.

Owing to the absence of air and water, the moon would be totally disqualified for the support of life of those types in which we know it. For air and water are necessary to every animal, from the humblest animalcule up to whales or elephants. Air and water are necessary for every form of vegetable life, from the lichen which grows on a stone up to the noble old oak of the forest. But even supposing that we could land on the moon, bearing with us an ample supply of oxygen to breathe, and of water to drink, we should find ourselves perplexed and embarrassed, to say the very least of it, by an extraordinary difference that would immediately attract our notice. That familiar experience of gravity, or the weights of things, which we have acquired in our residence on a great globe like the earth, would seem ludicrously altered when we began to walk about on a little globe like the moon. We should be astonished at the transformation by which the weight of everything was much lessened; when you pulled out your watch you would hardly feel it at the end of the chain; it would seem like a mere shell; but yet the watch is all right, it is going as well as ever. Nothing has altered about it except its weight. A big stone attracts your notice, and, to your amazement, you find that it does not weigh so much as a piece of wood of the same size would weigh down here. A stone that you could hardly stir on the earth, you can carry about on the moon. Nor is this to be explained by any peculiarity in the constitution of the lunar stone. Most probably it will be not very dissimilar to some of the rocks on the earth. The relative lightness of a lunar stone is not due to its being formed of some very special material; we must seek for some other explanation. Every object on the moon would be found only one-sixth as heavy as the same object on the earth. A sturdy laborer at one of the docks can carry one sack of corn on his back here, and he finds that this load is as much as is convenient. He would, however, discover, were he placed on the moon, that his load had suddenly become lightened to one-sixth part (Fig. 45). The laborer would find that he could carry six sacks of corn on the moon without making a greater effort than the support of a single sack on the earth cost him. To explain how such a change as this has occurred, look at these two pictures: one shows the laborer on a small body like the moon, the other shows him on a great globe like the earth. What the laborer actually does feel is not quite so simple a thing as he imagines. He imagines that it is the weight of the corn, and the corn alone, which produces that pressure on his shoulders which he knows so well. But that is not exactly the manner in which the philosopher will look at the same question. What the laborer does actually feel is the attraction between the earth beneath his feet and the corn on his back. It is this force which produces the pressure on his shoulders. Its magnitude no doubt depends upon the quantity of corn in the sack, but it also depends on the quantity of matter on the earth beneath his feet. In fact, the force between two attracting bodies depends upon the masses of both the attracting bodies. When the laborer is transferred to the moon, of which the mass is so much less than that of the earth, the attraction is less there than it is here, even though the corn is the same in the two cases.

Many odd instances could be given of the extraordinary consequences of life on a world where all weights are reduced to a sixth part. One occurred to me the other day when I saw a postman going his rounds with an amazing load of Christmas presents and parcels. I thought, how much happier must be the lot of a postman on the moon, if such functionaries are wanted there! All the presents of toys or more substantial donations might be the same as before, the only alteration would be that they would not feel nearly so heavy. A box which contains a pound of chocolate bonbons might still contain exactly the same quantity of sweetmeat on the moon, but the exertion of carrying it would be reduced to one-sixth. It would only weigh as much as two or three ounces do on the earth. Our streets provide another admirable illustration of the drawbacks of our life here as compared with the facilities offered by life on the moon. I feel quite confident that no perambulators can be necessary there. I cannot indeed say that there are babies to be found on the moon, but of this I am certain, that even if the lunar babies were as plump and as sturdy as ours, they must still only weigh about a sixth as much as ours do. A lunar nurse would scorn to use a perambulator, even for a pair of twins; she might take them both out on her arm for an airing, and even then only bear one-third of the load that her terrestrial sister must sustain if she is carrying but a single child.

The lightness of bodies in the moon would entirely transform many of our most familiar games. In cricket, for instance, I don’t think the bowling would be so much affected, but the hits on the moon would be truly terrific. I believe an exceptionally good throw of the cricket-ball here is about a hundred yards, but the same man, using the same ball and applying the same force to it, would send the ball six hundred yards on the moon. So, too, every hit would in the lunar game carry the ball to six times the distance it does here. Football would show a striking development in lunar play; a good kick would not only send the ball over the cross-bar, but it would go soaring over the houses, and perhaps drop in the next parish.

Our own bodies would, of course, participate in the general buoyancy, so that, while muscular power remained unabated, we should be almost able to run and jump as if we had on the famous seven-league boots. I have seen an athlete in a circus jump over ten horses placed side by side. The same athlete, making the same effort, would jump over sixty horses on the moon.

A run with a pack of lunar foxhounds would indeed be a marvellous spectacle. There need be no looking round by timid horsemen to find open roads or easy gaps. The five-barred gate itself would be utterly despised by a huntsman who could easily clear a hay-rick. It would hardly be worth taking a serious jump to clear a canal unless there was a road and a railway or so, which could be disposed of at the same time.

To illustrate this subject of gravitation in another way, suppose that we were to be transferred from this earth to some globe much greater than the earth--to a globe, for instance, as large and massive as the sun. We can then show that the weight of every object would be increased. Indeed, everything would weigh about twenty-seven times as much as we find it does here. To pull out your watch would be to hoist a weight of about five or six pounds out of your pocket. Indeed, I do not see how you could draw out your watch, for even to raise your arm would be impossible; it would feel heavier by far than if it were made of solid lead. It is, perhaps, conceivable that you might stand upright for a moment, particularly if you had a wall to lean up against; but of this I feel certain, that if you once got down on the ground, it would be utterly out of your power to rise again.

These illustrations will at least answer one purpose: they will show how difficult it is for us to form any opinion as to the presence or the absence of life on the other globes in space. We are just adapted in every way for a residence on this particular earth of a particular size and climate, and with atmosphere of a particular composition. Within certain slender limits our vital powers can become accommodated to change, but the conditions of other worlds seem to be so utterly different from those we find here, that it would probably be quite impossible for beings constituted as we are to remain alive for five minutes on any other globe in space.

It is, however, quite another question as to whether there may not be inhabitants of some kind on many of the other splendid globes. We have through the wide extent of space inconceivable myriads of worlds, presenting, no doubt, every variety of size and climate, of atmosphere and soil. It seems quite preposterous to imagine that among all these globes ours alone should be the abode of life. The most reasonable conclusion for us to come to is that these bodies may be endowed with life of types which are just as appropriate to the physical conditions around them as is the life, both animal and vegetable, on this globe to the special circumstances in which it is placed.

LECTURE III.

THE INNER PLANETS.

Mercury, Venus, and Mars--How to make a Drawing of our System--The Planet Mercury--The Planet Venus--The Transit of Venus--Venus as a World--The Planet Mars and his Movements--The Ellipse--The Discoveries made by Tycho and Kepler--The Discoveries made by Newton--The Geography of Mars--The Satellites of Mars--How the Telescope aids in Viewing Faint Objects--The Asteroids, or Small Planets.

MERCURY, VENUS, AND MARS.

We can hardly think of either the sun or the moon as a world in the sense in which our earth is a world, but there are some bodies called planets which seem more like worlds, and it is about them that we are now going to talk. Besides our Earth there are seven planets of considerable size, and a whole host of insignificant little ones. These planets are like ours in a good many respects. One of them, Venus, is about the same size as this earth; but the two others, Mercury and Mars, are very much smaller. There are also some planets very much larger than any of these, namely, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. We shall in this lecture chiefly discuss three bodies, namely, Mercury, Venus, and Mars, which, with the earth, form the group of “inner” planets.

The planets are all members of the great family dependent on the sun. Venus and the earth may be considered the pair of twins, alike in size and weight. Mercury and Mars are the babies of the system. The big brothers are Jupiter and Saturn. All the planets revolve round the sun, and derive their light and their heat from his beams. We should like to get a little closer to some of our fellow-planets and learn their actual geography. Unfortunately, even under the most favorable circumstances, they are a very long way off. They are many millions of miles distant, and are always at least a hundred times as far as the moon. But far as the planets may be, astronomers have been familiar with their existence for ages past. I can give you a curious proof of this. You remember how we said the first and the second days of the week were called after the sun and the moon, Sun-day and Moon-day, or Monday, respectively. Let us see about the other days. Tuesday is not quite so obvious, but translate it into French and we have at once _Mardi_; this word means nothing but Mars’ day, and our Tuesday means exactly the same. Wednesday is also readily interpreted by the French word _Mercredi_, or Mercury’s day, while Venus corresponds to Friday. Jupiter’s day is Thursday, while Saturn’s day is naturally Saturday. The familiar names of the days of the week are thus associated with the seven moving celestial bodies which have been known for uncounted ages.

HOW TO MAKE A DRAWING OF OUR SYSTEM.

I want every one who reads this book to make a little drawing of the sun and the planets. The apparatus that you will need is a pair of compasses; any sort of compasses that will carry a bit of pencil will do. You must also get a little scale that has inches and parts of inches divided upon it; any carpenter’s rule will answer. The drawing is intended to give a notion of the true sizes and positions of the fine family of which the earth is one member. The figure I have given (Fig. 46) is not on so large a scale as that which I ask you to use, and which I shall here mention. Try and do the work neatly, and then pin up your little drawings where you will be able to see them every day until you are quite familiar with the notion of what we mean by our solar system.

First open the compasses one inch, and then describe a circle, and mark a dot on this as “MERCURY,” in neat letters, and also write on the circle “88 days.” At the centre you are to show the “SUN.” This circle gives the track followed by Mercury in its journey round the sun in the period of 88 days. Next open your compasses to 1¾ in., which you must do accurately by the scale. The circle drawn with this radius shows the relative size of the path of Venus, and to indicate the periodic time, you should mark it, “225 days.” The next circle you have to draw is a very interesting one. The compass is to be opened 2½ in. this time, and the path that it makes is to be marked “365 days.” This shows the high road along which we ourselves journey every year, along which we are, indeed, journeying at this moment. If you wanted to obtain from your figure any notions of the true dimensions of the system, the path of the earth will be the most convenient means of doing so. The earth is 93,000,000 miles from the sun, and our drawing shows its orbit as a circle of 2½ in. radius. It follows that each inch on our little scale will correspond to about 37,000,000 miles. As, therefore, the radius of the orbit of Mercury has been taken to be one inch, it follows that the distance of Mercury from the sun is about 37,000,000 miles.

We have, however, still one more circle to draw before we complete this little sketch. The compass must now open to four inches, and a circle which represents the orbit of Mars is then to be drawn. We mark on this “687 days,” and the inner part of the solar system is then fully represented. You see, this diagram shows how our earth is in every sense a planet. It happens that one of the four planets revolves outside the earth’s path, while there are two inside. By marking the days on the circles which show the periods of the planets, you perceive that the further a planet is from the sun, the longer is the time that it takes to go round. Perhaps you will not be surprised at this, for the length of the journey is, of course, greater in the greater orbits; but this consideration will not entirely explain the augmentation of the time of revolution. The further a planet is from the sun, the more slowly does it actually move, and therefore, for a double reason, the larger orbit will take a longer time. From London to Brighton is a much longer journey than from London to Greenwich, and, therefore, the journey by rail to Brighton will, of course, be a longer one than by rail to Greenwich. But suppose that you compared the railway journey to Greenwich with the journey, not by rail, but by coach, to Brighton, here the comparative slowness of the coach would form another reason besides the greater length of the journey for making the Brighton trip a much more tedious one than that to Greenwich. Mars may be likened to the coach which has to go all the way to Brighton, while Mercury may be likened to the train which flies along over the very short journey to Greenwich.

We can easily show from our little sketch that Mercury must be moving more quickly than Mars, for the radii of the two circles are respectively one inch and four inches, and therefore the path of Mars must be four times as long as the orbit of Mercury. If Mars moved as fast as Mercury, he would, of course, require only four times as many days to complete his large path as Mercury takes for his small path; but four times 88 is 352, and, consequently, Mars ought to get round in 352 days if he moved as fast as Mercury does. As a matter of fact, Mars requires nearly twice that number of days; indeed, no less than 687, and hence we infer that the average speed of Mars cannot be much more than half that of Mercury.

To appreciate duly the position of the earth with regard to its brothers and sisters in the sun’s family it will be necessary to use your compasses in drawing another little sketch, by which the sizes of the four bodies themselves shall be fairly represented. Remember that the last drawing showed nothing whatever about the sizes of the bodies; it merely exhibited the dimensions of the paths in which they moved. As Mercury is the smallest globe of the four, we shall open the compasses half an inch and describe a circle to represent it. The earth and Venus are so nearly the same size (though the earth is a trifle the larger) that it is not necessary to attempt to exhibit the difference between them, so we shall represent both bodies by circles, each 1¼ inches in radius. Mars, like Mercury, is one of the globes smaller than the earth, and the circle that represents it will have a radius of ¾ of an inch. You should draw these figures neatly, and by a little shading make them look like globes. It would be better still if you were to make actual models, taking care, of course, to give each of them the exact size. A comparative view of the principal planets is shown in Fig. 47.

THE PLANET MERCURY.

Quicksilver is a bright and pretty metal, and, unlike every other metal, it is a liquid under ordinary circumstances. If you spill quicksilver, it is a difficult task to gather the liquid up again. It breaks into little drops, and you cannot easily lift them with your fingers; they slip away and escape your grasp. Quicksilver will run easily through a hole so small that water would hardly pass, and it is so heavy that an iron nail or a bunch of keys will float upon it. Now, this heavy, bright, nimble metal is known by another name besides quicksilver; a chemist would call it mercury, and the astronomers use exactly the same word to denote a pretty, bright, nimble, and heavy planet which seems to try to elude our vision. Though Mercury is so hard to see, yet it was discovered so long ago, that all record is lost of who the discoverer was.

You must take special pains if you want to see the planet Mercury, for during the greater part of the year it is not to be seen at all. Every now and then a glimpse is to be had, but you must be on the alert to look out just after sunset, or you must be up very early in the morning so as to see it just before sunrise. Mercury is always found to be in attendance on the sun, so that you must search for him near the sun; that is, low down in the west in the evenings, or low down in the east in the mornings. To ascertain the proper time of the year at which to look for him you must refer to the almanac.

We have seen how Mercury revolves in a path inside that of Venus, and it is therefore nearer to the sun. Indeed, Mercury is so close to the sun that it is generally overpowered by his brilliance and cannot be seen at all. Like every other planet, Mercury is lighted by the sun’s rays, and shows phases in the telescope just as the moon does (Fig. 48). In this figure the different apparent sizes of the planet at different parts of its path are shown. Of course the nearer Mercury is to the earth the larger does it seem.