POPULAR LECTURES ON SCIENTIFIC SUBJECTS POPULAR LECTURES ON SCIENTIFIC SUBJECTS Bv SIR JOHN F. W. HERSCHEL, BART., K.H. M.A. J D.C.L. ; F.R.S. L. AND E. ; HON. M.R.I. A. ; F.R.A.S. ; M.C.U.P.S. MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE ; AND CORRESPONDENT, ASSOCIATE, HONORARY OR ORDINARY MEMBER OF VARIOUS OTHER ACADEMIES AND INSTITUTIONS LONDON DALDY, ISBISTER & CO. 56, LUDGATE HILL 1876 SRLE URL' PREFACE. HE three first lectures in the following collection on Earthquakes and Vol- canoes, on the Sun, and on Comets were delivered by the Author to a vil- lage audience, in the school-house of the parish of Hawkhurst, in Kent, his place of residence. They were subsequently printed as contributions to the pages of that excellent and useful periodi- cal, Good Words, in which they were followed by those " On the Weather and Weather Pro- phets," " On Celestial Measurings and Weigh- ings," and " On Light," the latter assuming in its progress the dimensions of a little elementary 1 C ^ ' -*- v--- .- ^ , PREFACE. treatise, adapted for the perusal of non-mathe- matical readers. On the completion of this, it was suggested by the publisher of that work to collect and reprint them together, a proposal the more welcome, as it afforded an opportunity for bring- ing together several other pieces of a somewhat similar character, some of which, though not properly characterized as " Lectures," it seemed desirable to reproduce. More especially, it ap- peared to the Author an imperative duty to let no opportunity pass of recalling the attention of the public to the great question of the proposed aban- donment of our national system of weights and measures, and adoption in its stead of the metri- cal system of the French, with its unit, the metre, in place of the English yard, which has been so actively, and, in his opinion, so mischievously urged on Parliament ; the agitation in favour of which only sleeps for the present, in the view of allowing the public mind to familiarize itself with the idea under a Permissive Act, to be assuredly brought forward again with renewed activity, and under a more intense and prolonged pressure (to be met by a more concentrated and determined resistance), on no distant occasion. PREFACE. No apology will be considered necessary for re- producing the little piece " On the Absorption of Light/' the thirteenth in order of this collection. Though it does not pretend to anticipate any of the later experimental researches, and the reason- ings grounded on them for concluding the con- version of motion into heat, electricity, and mag- netism, it is, nevertheless, a step (though a small one) in that direction, by showing that a state of apparent rest in a material body is not incom- patible with the internal propagation ad infinitum within it of movement impressed on it from with- out. It is very conceivable that the internal or atomic organization of ponderable matter may be such as to concentrate and localize, in its individual molecular groups, the broken -up and dispersed undulations caused by any external shock ; and so preserve them from attaining that final state of complete mutual counteraction which is there contemplated. Some slight alterations in the wording, and additions (not in every instance unimportant) to the matter of the several Essays here reproduced, have been made ; as well as, here and there, some numerical corrections. In particular, the last little xii PREFACE. piece, "On the Estimation of Skill in Target- Shooting," has for one of its objects the correction of an error in one of the Author's former works, while, at the same time, calling attention to a subject generally, and even nationally, interest- ing. COLLINGWOOD, June 8. 1866. CONTENTS. TOB.PACE, '. . T. ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES, , f I II. THE SUN, -. . . . t i 47 III. ON COMETS, i . . . . .91 IV. THE WEATHER AND WEATHER PROPHETS, . . 142 V. CELESTIAL MEASURINGS AND WEIGHINGS, . . 176 VI. ON LIGHT. PART I. REFLEXION REFRACTION DISPERSION COLOUR ABSORPTION, . . 2ig VII. ON LIGHT. PART II. THEORIES OF LIGHT INTER- FERENCES DIFFRACTION, .... 268 VIII. ON LIGHT. PART III. DOUBL3 REFRACTION POL- ARIZATION, ...... 340 IX. ON SENSORIAL VISION, .... 400 X. THE YARD, THE PENDULUM, AND THE METRE, . 419 XI. ON ATOMS. A DIALOGUE, . . 452 XII. ON THE ORIGIN OF FORCE, .... 460 XIII. ON THE ABSORPTION OF LIGHT BY COLOURED MEDIA, VIEWED IN CONNEXION WITH THE UNDULATORY THEORY, ...... 476 XIV. ONVriE ESTIMATION OF SKILL IN TARGET-SHOOTING, 495 b LECTURE L ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. PURPOSE in this Lecture to say something about volcanos and earthquakes. It is a subject I have thought a good deal about, and seen a little of, for though I have never been so fortunate as to have seen a volcano in eruption, or to have been shaken out of my bed by an earthquake, still I have climbed the cones of Vesuvius and Etna, hammer in hand and barometer on back, and have wandered over and geologized among, I believe, nearly all the principal scenes of extinct vol- canic activity in Europe, those of Spain excepted. (2.) Every one knows that a volcano is a mountain that vomits out fire, and smoke, and cinders, and melted lava, and sulphur, and steam, and gases, and all kinds of horrible things ; nay, even sometimes mud, and boil- ing water, and fishes ; and everybody has heard or read of the earth opening, and swallowing up man and beast, A 2 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. and houses and churches ; and closing on them with a snap, and smashing them to pieces ; and then perhaps opening again, and casting them out with a flood of dirty water from some river or lake that had been gulped down with them. Now, all this, and much more, is literally true, and has happened over and over again ; and when we nave imagined it all, we shall have formed a tolerably correct notion of some at least of these visitations. And perhaps some may have been tempted to ask why and how it is that God has per- mitted this fair earth to be visited with such destruction. It can hardly be for the sins of men : for when these things occur they involve alike the innocent and the guilty; and besides, the volcano and the earthquake were raging on this earth with as much, nay greater violence, thousands and thousands of years before man ever set his foot upon it. But perhaps, on the other hand, it may have occurred to some to ask themselves whether it is not just possible that these ugly affairs are sent among us for some beneficent purpose; or at all events that they may form part and parcel of some, great scheme of providential arrangement which is at work for good, and not for ill. A ship sometimes strikes on a rock, and all on board perish ; a railway train runs into another, or breaks down, and then wounds and contu- sions are the order of the day ; but nobody doubts that navigation and railway communication are great bless- ings. None of the great natural provisions for produc- ing good are exempt in their workings from producing occasional mischief. Storms disperse and dilute pesti- ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 3 lential vapours, and lightnings decompose and destroy them j but both the one and the other often annihilate the works of man, and inflict upon him sudden death. Well, then, I think I shall be able to show that the vol- cano and the earthquake, dreadful as they are, as local and temporary visitations, are in fact unavoidable (I had almost said necessary) incidents in a vast system of action to which we owe the very ground we stand upon, the very land we inhabit, without which neither man, beast, nor bird would have a place for their existence, and the world would be the habitation of nothing but fishes. (3.) Now, to make this clear, I must go a little out of my way and say something about the first principles of geology. Geology does not pretend to go back to the creation of the world, or concern itself about its primitive state, but it does concern itself with the changes it sees going on in it now, and with the evi- dence of a long series of such changes it can produce in the most unmistakable features of the structure of our rocks and soil, and the way in which they lie one on the other. As to what we SEE going on. We see every- where, and along every coast-line, the sea warring against the land, and everywhere overcoming it j wearing and eating it down, and battering it to pieces ; grinding those pieces to powder ; carrying that powder away, and spreading it out over its own bottom, by the continued effect of the tides and currents. Look at our chalk cliffs, which once, no doubt, extended across the Chan- nel to the similar cliffs on the French coast. What do we see 1 ? Precipices cut down to the sea-beach, 4 ABOUT YOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. constantly hammered by the waves and constantly crumbling : the beach itself made of the flints outstand- ing after the softer chalk has been ground down and washed away; themselves grinding one another under the same ceaseless discipline ; first rounded into pebbles, then worn into sand, and then carried out farther and farther down the slope, to be replaced by fresh ones from the same source. (4.) Well: the same thing is going on everywhere, round ei>ery coast of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. Foot by foot or inch by inch, month by month or century by century, down everything MUST go. Time is as nothing in geology. And what the sea is doing the rivers are helping it to do. Look at the sand-banks at the mouth of the Thames. What are they but the materials of our island carried out to sea by the stream] The Ganges carries away from the soil of India, and delivers into the sea, twice as much solid substance weekly as is con- tained in the great pyramid of Egypt. The Irawaddy sweeps off from Burmah 62 cubic feet of earth in every second of time on an average, and there are 86,400 sec- onds in every day, and 365 days in every year; and so on for the other rivers. What has become of all that great bed of chalk which once covered all the weald of Kent, and formed a continuous mass from Ramsgate and Dover to Beechy Head, running inland to Madamscourt Hill and Seven Oaks? All clean gone, and swept out into the bosom of the Atlantic, and there forming other chalk- beds. Now, geology assures us, on the most conclusive and undeniable evidence, that ALL our present land, all ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 5 our continents and islands, have been formed in this way out of the ruins of former ones. The old ones which existed at the beginning of things have all perished, and what we now stand upon has most assuredly been, at one time or other, perhaps manv times, the bottom of the sea. (5.) Well, then, there is power enough at work, and it has been at work long enough, utterly to have cleared away and spread over the bed of the sea all our present existing continents and islands, had they been placed where they are at the creation of the world ; and from this it follows, as clear as demonstration can make it, that without some process of renovation or restoration to act in antagonism to this destructive work of old Nep- tune, there would not now be remaining a foot of dry land for living thing to stand upon. (6.) Now, what is this process of restoration? Let the volcano and the earthquake tell their tale. Let the earthquake tell how, within the memory of man under the eyesight of eye-witnesses, one of whom (Mrs Graham) has described the fact the whole coast line of Chili, for 100 miles about Valparaiso, with the mighty chain of the Andes mountains to which the Alps shrink into insignificance was hoisted at one blow (in a single night, Nov. 19, A.D. 1822) from two to seven feet above its former level, leaving the beach below the old low water- mark high and dry; leaving the shell-fish sticking on the rocks out of reach of water; leaving the seaweed rotting in the air, or rather drying up to dust under the burning sun of a coast where rain never falls. The ancients had a fable of Titan hurled from heaven and 6 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. buried under Etna, and by his struggles causing the earthquakes that desolated Sicily. But here we have an exhibition of Titanic forces on a far mightier scale. One of the Andes upheaved on this occasion was the gigantic mass of Aconcagua, which overlooks Valparaiso. To bring home to the mind the conception of such an effort, we must form a clear idea of what sort of mountain this is. It is nearly 24,000 feet in height. Chimborazo, the loftiest of the volcanic cones of the Andes, is lower by 2500 feet ; and yet Etna, with Vesuvius at the top of it, and another Vesuvius piled on that, would little more than surpass the midway height of the snow-covered portion of that cone, which is one of the many chimneys by which the hidden fires of the Andes find vent. On the occa- sion I am speaking of, at least 10,000 square miles of country were estimated as having been upheaved, and the upheaval was not confined to the land, but extended far away to sea, which was proved by the soundings off Valparaiso, and along the coast, having been found con- siderably shallower than they were before the shock. (7.) Again, in the year 1819, in an earthquake in India, in the district of Cutch, bordering on the Indus, a tract of country more tnaii ity miles long and sixteen broad was suddenly raised ten feet above its former level. The raised portion still stands up above the un- raised, like a long perpendicular wall, which is known by the name of the" Ullah Bund," or "God's Wall" And again, in 1538, in that convulsion which threw up the Monte Nuovo (New Mountain), a cone of ashes 450 feet high, in a single night ; the whole coast of Pozzuoli, ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. J near Naples, was raised twenty feet above its former level, and remains so permanently upheaved to this day. And I could mention innumerable other instances of the same kind.* (8.) This, then, is the manner in which the earthquake does its work ; and it is always at work. Somewhere or other in the world, there is perhaps not a day, certainly not a month, without an earthquake. In those districts of South and Central America, where the great chain of volcanic cones is situated Chimborazo, Cotopaxi, and a long list with names unmentionable, or at least unpro- nounceable the inhabitants no more think of counting earthquake shocks than we do of counting showers of. rain. Indeed, in some places along that coast, a shower is a greater rarity. Even in our own island, near Perth, a year seldom passes without a shock, happily, within the records of history, never powerful enough to do any mischief. (9.) It is not everywhere that this process goes on by fits and starts. For instance, the northern gulfs, and borders of the Baltic Sea, are steadily shallowing: and the whole mass of Scandinavia, including Norway, Sweden, and Lapland, is rising o^t of the sea at the average rate of about two feet per century. But as this fact (which is perfectly well established by reference to ancient high and low water-marks) is not so evidently connected with the action of earthquakes, I shall not further refer to it just now. All that I want to show is, * Not that earthquakes always raise the soil ; there are plenty of instances of subsidence, etc. 8 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. that there is a great cycle of changes going on, in which the earthquake and volcano act a very conspicuous part, and that part a restorative and conservative one; in oppo- sition to the steadily destructive and levelling action of the ocean waters. (10.) How this can happen ; what can be the origin of such an enormous power thus occasionally exerting itself, will no doubt seem very marvellous little short, indeed, of miraculous intervention but the mystery, after all, is not quite so great as at first it seems. We are permitted to look a little way into these great secrets of nature ; not far enough, indeed, to clear up every difficulty, but- quite enough to penetrate us with admira- tion of that wonderful system of counterbalances and compensations ; that adjustment of causes and conse- quences, by which, throughout all nature, evils are made to work their own cure ; life to spring out of death ; and renovation to tread in the steps and efface the vestiges of decay. (n.) The key to the whole affair is to be found in the central heat of the earth. This is no scientific dream, no theoretical notion, but a fact established by direct evidence up to a certain point, and standing out from plain facts as a matter of unavoidable conclusion, in a hundred ways. (12.) We all know that when we go into a cellar out of a summer sun, it feels cool; but when we go into it out of a wintry frost it is warm. The fact is, that a cellar, or a well, or any pit of a moderate depth, has always, day and night, summer and winter, the same degree of ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 9 warmth, the same temperature, as it is called : and that always and everywhere is the same, or nearly the same, as the average warmth of the climate of the place. Forty or fifty feet deep in the ground, a thermometer here, in this spot,* would always mark the same degree, 49 that is, or seventeen degrees above the freezing point. Under the equator, at the same depth, it always stands at 84, which is our hot summer heat, but which there is the average heat of the whole year. And this is so everywhere. Just at the surface, or a few inches below it, the ground is warm in the daytime, cool at night : at two or three feet deep the difference of day and night is hardly perceptible, but that of summer and winter is considerable. But at forty or fifty feet this difference also disappears, and you find a perfectly fixed, uniform degree of warmth, day and night ; summer and winter ; year after year. (13.) But when we go deeper, as, for instance, down into mines or coal-pits, this one broad and general fact is always observed, everywhere, in all countries, in all latitudes, in all climates, wherever there are mines, or deep subterranean caves, the deeper you go, the hotter the earth is found to be. In one and the same mine, each particular depth has its own particular degree of heat, which never varies : but the lower always the hotter ; and that not by a trifling, but what may well be called an astonishingly rapid rate of increase, about a degree of the thermometer additional warmth for every 90 feet of additional depth, which is about 58 per mile ! so that, * At Hawkhurst in Kent. IO ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. if we had a shaft sunk a mile deep, we should find in the rock a heat of 105, which is much hotter than the hottest summer day ever experienced in England. (14.) It is not everywhere, however, that it is worth while to sink a shaft to any great depth ; but borings for water (in what are called Artesian wells) are often made to enormous depths, and the water always comes up hot ; and the deeper the boring, the hotter the water. There is a very famous boring of this sort in Paris, at La Crenelle. The water rises from a depth of 1794 feet, and its temperature is 82 of our scale, which is almost that of the equator. And, again, at Salzwerth, in Oeyn- hausen, in Germany, in a boring for salt-springs 2144 feet deep, the salt water comes up with a still higher heat, viz., 91. Then, again, we have natural hot-water springs, which rise, it is true, from depths we have no means of ascertaining ; but which, from the earliest recorded times, have always maintained the .same heat. At Bath, for instance, the hottest well is 117 Fahr. On the Arkansas River, in the United States, is a spring of 1 80; which is scalding hot; and that out of the neigh- bourhood of any volcano. (15.) Now, only consider what sort of a conclusion this lands us in. This globe of ours is 8000 miles in diameter ; a mile deep on its surface is a mere scratch. If a man had twenty greatcoats on, and I found under the first a warmth of 60 above the external air, I should expect to find 60 more under the second, and 60 more under the third, and so on ; and, within all, no man, but a mass of red-hot iron. Just so with the outside crust of ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. II the earth. Every mile thick is such a greatcoat, and at 20 miles depth, according to this rate, the ground must be fully red-hot; and at no such very great depth beyond, either the whole must be melted, or only the most in- fusible and intractable kinds of material, such as our fire- clays and flints, would present some degree of solidity. (16.) In short, what the icefloes and icebergs are to the polar seas, so we shall come to regard our continents and mountain-ranges in relation to the ocean of melted matter beneath, I do not mean to say there is no solid central mass ; there may be one, or there may not, and, upon the whole, I think it likely enough that there is kept solid, in spite of the heat, by the enormous pres- sure ; but that has nothing to do with my present argu- ment. All that I contend for is this, Grant me a sea of liquid fire, on which we are all floating, land and sea; for the bottom of the sea, anyhow, will not come nearly down to the lava level. The sea is probably nowhere more than five or six miles deep, which is far enough above that level to keep its bed from becoming red-hot. (17.) Well, now, the land is perpetually wearing down, and the materials being carried out to sea. The coat of heavier matter is thinning off towards the land, and thickening over all the bed of the sea. What must happen? If a ship float even on her keel, transfer weight from the starboard to the larboard side, will she continue to float even ? No, certainly. She will heel over to larboard. Many a good ship has gone to the bottom in this way. If the continents be lightened, 12 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. they will rise ; if the bed of the sea receive additional weight, it will sink. The bottom of the Pacific is sink- ing, in point of fact. Not that the Pacific is becoming deeper. This seems a paradox ; but it is easily explained. The whole bed of the sea is in the act of being pressed down by the laying on of new solid substance over its bottom. The new bottom then is laid upon the old, and so the actual bed of the ocean remains at or nearly at the same distance from the surface water. But what becomes of the islands ? They form part and parcel of the old bottom ; and Dr Darwin has shown, by the most curious and convincing proofs, that they are sinking, and have been sinking for ages, and are only kept above water by what, think you ? By the labours of the coral insects, which always build up to the surface ! (18.) It is impossible but that this increase of pressure in some places and relief in others must be very un- equal in their bearings. So that at some place or other this solid floating crust must be brought into a state of strain, and if there be a weaK or a soft part, a crack will at last take place. When this happens, down goes the land on the heavy side, and up on the light side. Now this is exactly what took place in the earthquake which raised the Ullah Bund in Cutch. I have told you of a great crack drawn across the country, not far from the coast line ; the inland country rose ten feet, but much of the sea-coast, and probably a large tract in the bed of the Indian Ocean, sank considerably below its former level And just as you see when a crack takes place in ice, the water oozes up ; so this kind of thing is always, ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 13 or almost always, followed by an upburst of the subter- ranean fiery matter. The earthquake of Cutch was terminated by the outbreak of a volcano at the town of Bhooi, which it destroyed. (19.) Now where, following out this idea, should we naturally expect such cracks and outbreaks to happen ] Why, of course, along those lines where the relief of pressure on the land side is the greatest, and also its increase on the sea side ; that is to say, along or in the neighbourhood of the sea-coasts, where the destruction of the land is going on with most activity. Well, now, it is a remarkable fact in the history of volcanos, that there is hardly an instance of an active volcano at any considerable distance from the sea-coast. All the great volcanic chain of the Andes is close to the western coast line of America. Etna is close to the sea ; so is Vesuvius ; Teneriffe is very near the African coast ; Mount Erebus is on the edge of the great Antarctic continent. Out of 225 volcanos which are known to have been in actual eruption over the whole earth within the last 150 years, I remember only a single instance of one more than 320 miles from the sea, and even that is on the edge of the Caspian, the largest of all the inland seas I mean Mount Demawend in Persia. (20.) Suppose from this, or from any other cause, a crack to take place in the solid crust of the earth. Don't imagine that the melted matter below will simply ooze up quietly, as water does from under an ice-crack. No such thing. There is an element in the case we have not considered : steam and condensed gases. We aU 14 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. know what happens when a crack takes place in a high- pressure steam-boiler, with what violence the contents escape, and what havoc takes place. Now there is no doubt that among the minerals of the subterranean world, there is water in abundance, and sulphur, and many other vaporizable substances, all kept subdued and repressed by the enormous pressure. Let this pres- sure be relieved, and forth they rush, and the nearer they approach the surface the more they expand, and the greater is the explosive force they acquire ; till at length, after more or fewer preparatory shocks, each accompanied with progressive weakening of the over- lying strata, the surface finally breaks up, and forth rushes the imprisoned power, with all the awful violence of a volcanic eruption.. (21.) Certainly a volcano does seem to be a very bad neighbour ; and yet it affords a compensation in the ex- traordinary richness of the volcanic soil, and the fertil- izing quality of the ashes thrown out. The flanks of Somma (the exterior crater of Vesuvius) are covered with vineyards producing wonderful wine, and whoever has visited Naples, will not fail to be astonished at the productiveness of the volcanized territory as contrasted with the barrenness of the limestone rocks bordering on it. There you will see the amazing sight (as an English farmer would call it) of a triple crop growing at once on the same soil ; a vineyard, an orchard, and a corn- field all in one. A magnificent wheat crop, five or six feet high, overhung with clustering grape-vines swinging from one apple or pear tree to another in the most luxu- ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 15 riant festoons ! When I visited Somma, to see the country where the celebrated wine, the Lacryma Christi, is grown, it was the festival of the Madonna del Arco. Her church was crowded to suffocation with a hot and dusty assemblage of the peasantry. The fine impalpable volcanic dust was everywhere; in your eyes, in your mouth, begriming every pore ; and there I saw what I shall never forget. Jammed among the crowd, I felt something jostling my legs. Looking down, and the crowd making way, I beheld a line of worshippers crawl- ing on their hands and knees from the door of the church to the altar, licking the dusty pavement all the way with their tongues, positively applied to the ground and no mistake. No trifling dose of Lacryma would be required to wash down what they must have swallowed on that journey, and I have no doubt it was administered pretty copiously after the penance was over. (22.) Now I come to consider the manner in which an earthquake is propagated from place to place ; how it travels, in short. It runs along the earth precisely in the same manner, and according to the same mechanical laws as a wave along the sea, or rather as the waves of sound run along the air, but quicker. The earthquake which destroyed Lisbon ran out from thence, as from a centre, in all directions, at a rate averaging about twenty miles per minute, as far as could be gathered from a comparison of the times of its occurrence at different places ; but there is little doubt that it must have been retarded by having to traverse all sorts of ground, for a blow or shock of any description is conveyed through the t6 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. substance on which it is delivered with the rapidity of sound in that substance. Perhaps it may be new to many who hear me to be told that sound is conveyed by water, by stone, by iron, and indeed by everything, and at a dif- ferent rate for each. In air it travels at the rate of about 1140 feet per second, or about 13 miles in a minute. In water much faster, more than four times as fast (4700 feet). In iron ten times as fast (11,400 feet), or about 130 miles in a minute, so that a blow delivered endways at one end of an iron rod, 130 miles long, would only reach the other after the lapse of a minute, and a pull at one end of an iron wire of that length, would require a minute before it would be felt at the other. But the substance of the earth through which the shock is conveyed is not only far less elastic than iron, but it does not form a coherent, connected body ; it is full of interruptions, cracks, loose materials, and all these tend to deaden and retard the shock : and putting together all the accounts of all the earthquakes that have been ex- actly observed, their rate of travel may be taken to vary from as low as 12 or 13 miles a minute to 70 or 80 : but perhaps the low velocities arise from oblique waves. (23.) The way, then, that we may conceive an earth- quake to travel is this, I shall take the case which is most common, when the motion of the ground to-and- fro is horizontal. How far each particular spot on the surface of the ground is actually pushed from its place there is no way of ascertaining, since all the surrounding objects receive the same impulse almost at the same in- stant of time, but there are many indications that it is ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 17 often several yards. In the earthquake of Cutch, which I have mentioned, trees were seen to flog the ground with their branches, which proves that their stems must have been jerked suddenly away for some considerable distance and as suddenly pushed back; and the same conclusion follows from the sudden rise of the water of lakes on the side where the shock reaches them, and its fall on the opposite side ; the bed of the lake has been jerked away for a certain distance from under the water and pulled back. (24.) Now, suppose a row of sixty persons, standing a mile apart from each other, in a straight line, in the direction in which the shock travels ; at a rate, we will suppose, of sixty miles per minute : and let the ground below the first get a sudden and violent shove, carrying it a yard in the direction of the next. Since this shock will not reach the next till after the lapse of one second of time, it is clear that the space between the two will be shortened by a yard, and the ground that is to say, not the mere loose soil on the surface, but the whole mass of solid rock below, down to an unknown depth com- pressed, or driven into a smaller space. It is this com- pression that carries the shock forwards. The elastic force of the rocky matter, like a coiled spring acts both ways ; it drives back the first man to his old place, and shoves the second a yard nearer to the third ; and so on. Instead of men place a row of tall buildings, or columns, and they will tumble down in succession, the base flying forwards, and leaving the tops behind to drop on the soil on the side/aw* which the shock came. This is a l8 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. just what was seen to happen in Messina in the great Calabrian earthquake. As the shock ran along the ground, the houses of the Faro were seen to topple down in succession ; beginning at one end and running on to the other, as if a succession of mines had been sprung. In the earthquake in Cutch, a sentinel standing at one end of a long straight line of wall, saw the wall bow forward and recover itself; not all at once, but with a swell like a wave running all along it with immense rapidity. In this case it is evident that the earthquake wave must have had its front oblique to the direction of the wall (just as an obliquely-held ruler runs along the edge of a page of paper while it advances, like a wave of the sea, perpendicularly to its own length). (25.) In reference to extinct volcanos, I may just mention that any one who wishes to see some of the finest specimens in Europe may do so by making a couple of days' railway travel to Clermont, in the depart- ment of the Puy de Dome in France. There he will find a magnificent series of volcanic cones, fields of ashes, streams of lavas, and basaltic terraces or platforms, proving the volcanic action to have been continued for countless ages before the present surface of the earth was formed ; and all so clear that he who runs may read their lesson- There can there be seen a configuration of surface quite resembling what telescopes show in the most volcanic districts of the moon. Let not my hearers be startled : half the moon's face is covered with unmis- takable craters of extinct volcanos. (26.) Many of the lavas of Auvergne and the Puy de ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 19 Dome are basaltic; that is, consisting of columns placec close together ; and some of the cones are quite com- plete, and covered with loose ashes and cinders, just as Vesuvius is at this hour. (27.) In the study of these vast and awful phenomena we are brought in contact with those immense and rude powers of nature which seem to convey to the imagina- tion the impress of brute force and lawless violence ; bu 1 it is not so. Such an idea is not more derogatory to the wisdom and benevolence that prevails throughout all the scheme of creation than it is in itself erroneous. In their wildest paroxysms the rage of the volcano and the earthquake is subject to great and immutable laws : they feel the bridle and obey it. The volcano bellows forth its pent-up overplus of energy, and sinks into long and tranquil repose. The earthquake rolls away, ami industry, that balm which nature knows how to shed over every wound, effaces its traces, and festoons its ruins with flowers. There is mighty and rough work to be accomplished, and it cannot be done by gentle means. It seems, no doubt, terrible, awful, perhaps harsh, that twenty or thirty thousand lives should be swept away in a moment by a sudden and unforeseen calamity ; but we must remember that sooner or later every one of those lives must be called for, and it is by no means the most sudden end that is the most afflictive. It is well too that we should contemplate occasionally, if it were only to teach us humility and submission, the immense energies which are everywhere at work in maintaining the system of nature we see going on so smoothly and tranquilly 20 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. \ around us, and of which these furious outbreaks, after all, are but minute, and for the moment unbalanced sur- pluses in the great account. The energy requisite to overthrow a mountain is as a drop in the ocean com- pared with that which holds it in its place, and makes it a mountain. Chemistry tells us that the forces con- stantly in action to maintain a single grain of water in its habitual state ; when only partially and sparingly let loose in the form of electricity, would manifest them- selves as a powerful flash of lightning.* And we learn from optical science that in even the smallest element of every material body, nay, even in what we call empty space, there are forces in perpetual action to which even such energies sink into insignificance. Yet, amid all this, nature holds her even course : the flowers blossom ; animals enjoy their brief span of existence; and man has leisure and opportunity to contemplate and adore, secure of the watchful care which provides for his well-being at every instant that he is permitted to remain on earth. ON THE HISTORY OF EARTHQUAKES AND VOLCANOS. (28.) The first great earthquake of which any very distinct knowledge has reached us is that which occurred in the year 63 after our Saviour, which produced great destruction in the neighbourhood of Vesuvius, and shattered the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum upon the Bay of Naples, though it did not destroy them. This earthquake is chiefly remarkable as having been * Faraday : " Experimental Researches in Electricity," 853. ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 21 the forerunner and the warning (if that warning could have been understood) of the first eruption of Vesuvius on record, which followed sixteen years afterwards in the year 79. Before that time none of the ancients had any notion of its being a volcano, though Pompeii itself is paved with its lava. The crater was probably filled, or at least the bottom occupied, by a lake ; and we read of it as the stronghold of the rebel chief Spartacus, who, when lured there by the Roman army, escaped with his followers by clambering up the steep sides by the help of the wild vines that festooned them. The ground since the first earthquake in 63 had often been shaken by slight shocks, when at length, in August 79, they became more numerous and violent, and, on the night preceding the eruption, so tremendous as to threaten everything with destruction. A morning oi comparative repose succeeded, and the terrified inhab- itants of those devoted towns no doubt breathed more freely, and hoped the worst was over ; when, about one o'clock in the afternoon, the Elder Pliny, who was stationed in command of the Roman fleet at Misenum in full view of Vesuvius, beheld a huge black cloud ascend- ing from the mountain, which, " rising slowly always higher," at last spread out aloft like the head of one of those picturesque flat-topped pines which lorm such an ornament of the Italian landscape. The meaning of such a phenomenon was to Pliny and to every one a mystery. We know now too well what it imports, and they were not long left in doubt From that cloud descended stones, ashes, and pumice ; and the cloud 22 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. itself lowered down upon the surrounding country, involving land and sea in profound darkness, pierced by flashes of fire more vivid than lightning. These, with the volumes of ashes that began to encumber the soil, and which covered the sea with floating pumice-stone ; the constant heaving of the ground ; and the sudden recoil of the sea, form a picture which is wonderfully well described by the Younger Pliny. His uncle, ani- mated by an eager desire to know what was going on, and to afford aid to the inhabitants of the towns, made sail for the nearest point of the coast and landed ; but was instantly .enveloped in the dense sulphureous vapour that swept down from the mountain, and perished miserably. (29.) It does not seem that any lava flowed on that occasion. Pompeii was buried under the ashes ; Her- culaneum by a torrent of mud, probably the contents of the crater, ejected at the first explosion. This was most fortunate. We owe to it the preservation of some of the most wonderful remains of antiquity. For it is not yet much more than a century ago that, in digging a well at Portici near Naples, the Theatre of Herculaneum was discovered, some sixty feet under ground, then houses, baths, statues, and, most interesting of all, a library, full of books ; and those books still legible, and among them the writings of some ancient authors which had never before been met with, but which have now been read, copied, and published, while hundreds and hundreds, I am sorry to say, still remain unopened. Pompeii was not buried so deep ; the walls of some of ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 23 the buildings appeared among the modern vineyards ; and led to excavations, which were easy, the ashes being light and loose. And there you now may walk through the streets, enter the houses, and find the skeletons of their inmates, some in the very act of trying to escape. Nothing can be more strange and striking. (30.) Since that time Vesuvius has been frequently but very irregularly in eruption. The next after Pom- peii was in the year 202, under Severus: and in 472 occurred an eruption so tremendous that all Europe was covered by the ashes, and even Constantinople thrown into alarm. This may seem to savour of the marvellous ; but before I have done, I hope to show that it is not beyond what we know of the power of existing volcanos. (31.) I shall not, of course, occupy attention with a history of Vesuvius, but pass at once to the eruption of 1779, one of the most interesting on record, from the excellent account given of it by Sir William Hamilton, who was then resident at Naples as our Minister, and watched it throughout with the eye of an artist as well as the scrutiny of a philosopher. (32.) In 1767, there had been a considerable erup- tion, during which Pliny's account of the great pine-like, flat-topped, spreading mass of smoke had been superbly exemplified ; extending over the Island of Capri, which is twenty-eight miles from Vesuvius. The showers of ashes, the lava currents, the lightnings, thunderings, and earthquakes were very dreadful ; but they were at ones brought to a close when the mob insisted that the head 24 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. of St Januarius should be brought out and shown to the mountain ; and when this was done, all the uproar ceased on the instant, and Vesuvius became as quiet as a lamb ! (33.) He did not continue so, however, and it would have been well for Naples if the good Saint's head could have been permanently fixed in some conspicuous place in sight of the hill for from that time till the year 1779 it never was quiet. In the spring of that year it begin to pour out lava ; and on one occasion, when Sir Wil- liam Hamilton approached too near, the running stream was on the point of surrounding him ; and the sulphure- ous vapour cut off his retreat, so that his only mode of escape was to walk across the lava, which, to his aston- ishment, and, no doubt, to his great joy, he found accompanied with no difficulty, and with no more incon- venience than what proceeded from the radiation of heat on his legs and feet from the scoria? and cinders with which the external crust of the lava was loaded ; and which in great measure intercepted and confined the glowing heat of the ignited mass below. (34.) In such cases, and when cooled down to a certain point, the motion of the lava-stream is slow and creeping; rather rolling over itself than flowing like a river ; the top becoming the bottom, owing to the tough- ness of the half-congealed crust. When it issues, how- ever, from any accessible vent, it is described as perfectly liquid, of an intense white heat, and spouting or welling forth with extreme rapidity. So Sir Humphry Davy described it m an eruption at which he was present/ ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 25 and so Sir William Hamilton, in the eruption we are now concerned with, saw it " bubbling up violently" from one of its fountains on the slope of the volcano, " with a hissing and crackling noise, like that of an arti- ficial firework ; and forming, by the continual splashing up of the vitrified matter, a sort of dome or arch over the crevice from which it issued," which was all, inter- nally, " red-hot like a heated oven." (35.) However, as time went on, this quiet mode of getting rid of its contents would no longer suffice, and the usual symptoms of more violent action rumbling noises and explosions within the mountain ; puffs of smoke from its crater, and jets of red-hot stones and ashes continued till the end of July, when they in- creased to such a degree as to exhibit at night the most beautiful firework imaginable. The eruption came to its climax from the 5th to the loth of August, on the former of which days, after the ejection of an enormous volume of white clouds, piled like bales of the whitest cotton, in a mass exceeding four times the height and size of the mountain itself; the lava began to overflow the rim of the crater, and stream in torrents down the steep slope of the cone. This was continued till the 8th, when the great mass of the lava would seem to have been evacuated, and no longer repressing by its weight the free discharge of the imprisoned gases, allowed what remained to be ejected in fountains of fire, carried up to an immense height in the air. The description of one of these I must give in the picturesque and vivid words of Sir William Hamilton himself. " About nine 26 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. o'clock," he says, on Sunday the 8th of August, " there was a loud report, which shook the houses at Portici and its neighbourhood to such a degree, as to alarm the inhabitants and drive them out into the streets. Many windows were broken, and as I have since seen, walls cracked by the concussion of the air from that explosion. .... In one instant a fountain of liquid transparent fire began to rise, and gradually increasing, arrived at so amazing a height, as to strike every one who beheld it with the most awful astonishment. I shall scarcely be credited when I assure you that, to the best of my judgment, the height of this stupen- dous column of fire could not be less than three times that of Vesuvius itself; which, you know, rises perpendicularly near 3700 feet above the level of the sea." (The height by my own measurement in 1824 is 3920 feet). "Puffs of smoke, as black as can possibly be imagined, succeeded one another hastily, and accompanied the red-hot, transparent, and liquid lava, interrupting its splendid brightness here and there by patches of the darkest hue. Within these puffs of smoke, at the very moment of their emission from the crater, I could perceive a bright but pale electrical fire playing about in zigzag lines. The liquid lava, mixed with scoriae and stones, after having mounted, I verily believe at least 10,000 feet, falling perpendicularly on Vesuvius, covered its whole cone, part of that of Somma, and the valley between them. The falling matter being nearly as vivid and inflamed as that which was continu- ally issuing fresh from the crater, formed with it one ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 2? complete body of fire, which could not be less than two miles and a half in breadth, and of the extraordinary height above mentioned ; casting a heat to the distance of at least six miles around it. The brushwood of the mountain of Somma was soon in a flame, which, being of a different tint from the deep red of the matter thrown out from the volcano, and from the silvery blue of the electrical fire, still added to the contrast of this most extraordinary scene. After the column of fire had con- tinued in full force for nearly half an hour, the erup- tion ceased at once, and Vesuvius remained sullen and silent. ' (36.) The lightnings here described arose evidently in part from the chemical activity of gaseous decomposi- tions going forward, in part to the friction of steam, and in part from the still more intense friction of the dust, stones, and ashes encountering one another in the air, in analogy to the electric manifestations which accompany the dust storms in India. (37.) To give an idea of the state of the inhabitants of the country when an explosion is going on, I will make one other extract : " The mountain of Somma, at the foot of which Ottaiano is situated, hides Vesuvius from its sight : so that till the eruption became considerable it was not visible to them. On Sunday night, when the noise increased, and the fire began to appear above the mountain of Somma, many of the inhabitants of the town flew to the churches ; and others were preparing to quit the town, when a sudden violent report was heard, soon after which they found themselves involved in a thick 8 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. cloud of smoke and minute ashes ; a horrid clashing noise was heard in the air ; and presently fell a deluge of stones and large scoriae, some of which scoriae were of the diameter of seven or eight feet, and must have weighed more than one hundred pounds before they were broken by their falls, as some of the fragments of them which I picked up in the streets still weighed upwards of sixty pounds. When these large vitrified masses either struck against each other in the air or fell on the ground they broke in many pieces, and covered a large space around them with vivid sparks of fire, which communicated their heat to everything that was combus- tible. In an instant the town and country about it was on fire in many parts ; for in the vineyards there were several straw-huts, which had been erected for the watch- men of the grapes, all of which were burnt. A great magazine of wood in the heart of the town was all in a blaze : and had there been much wind, the flames must have spread universally, and all the inhabitants would have infallibly been burnt in their houses, for it was im- possible for them to stir out. Some who attempted it with pillows, tables, chairs, tops of wine casks, etc., on their heads, were either knocked down or driven back to their close quarters, under arches and in the cellars of the houses. Many were wounded, but only two persons have died of the wounds they received from this dread- ful volcanic shower. To add to the horror of the scene, incessant volcanic lightning was writhing about the black cloiri that surrounded them, and the sulphureous smell and heat would scarcely allow them to draw their breath." ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 2<) (38.) The next volcano I shall introduce is ^Etna, the grandest of all our European volcanos. I ascended it in 1824, and found its height by a very careful barometric measurement to be 10,772 feet above the sea, which, by the way, agrees within some eight or ten feet with Admiral Smyth's measurement. (39.) The scenery of ^Etna is on the grandest scale. Ascending from Catania you skirt the stream of lava which destroyed a large part of that city in 1669, and which ran into the sea, forming a jetty or breakwater that now gives Catania what it never had before, the advantage of a harbour. There it lies as hard, rugged, barren, and fresh-looking as if it had flowed but yester- day. In many places it is full of huge caverns ; great air-bubbles, into which one may ride on horseback (at least large enough) and which communicate, in a suc- cession of horrible vaults, where one might wander and lose one's self without hope of escape. Higher up, near Nicolosi, is the spot from which that lava flowed. It is marked by two volcanic cones, each of them a consider- able mountain, called the Monti Rossi, rising 300 feet above the slope of the hill, and which were thrown up on that occasion. Indeed, one of the most remarkable features of ^Etna is that of its flanks bristling over with innumerable smaller volcanos. For the height is so great that the lava now scarcely ever rises to the tcp ot the crater; for before that, its immense weight breaks through at the sides. In one of the eruptions that hap- pened in the early part of this century, I forget the date, but I think it was in 1819, and which was described to 3O ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. me on the spot by an eye-witness the Old Man of the Mountain, Mario Gemellaro the side of JEtna. was rent by a great fissure or crack, beginning near the top, and throwing out jets of lava from openings fourteen or fifteen in number all the way down, so as to form a row of fiery fountains rising from different levels, and all ascending nearly to the same height : thereby proving them all to have originated in the great internal cistern as it were, the crater being filled up to the top level. (40.) From the summit of ^Etna extends a view of extraordinary magnificence. The whole of Sicily lies at your feet, and far beyond it are seen a string of lesser volcanos; the Lipari Islands, between Sicily and the Italian coast; one of which, Stromboli, is always in eruption, unceasingly throwing up ashes, smoke, and liquid fire. (41.) But I must not linger on the summit of ytna. We will now take a flight thence, all across Europe, to Iceland a wonderful land of frost and fire. It is full of volcanos, one of which, HECLA, has been twenty-two times ,in eruption within the last 800 years. Besides Hecla, there are five others, from which in the same period twenty eruptions have burst forth, making about one every twenty years. The most formidable of these was that which happened in 1783, a year also memor- able as that of the terrible earthquake in Calabria. In May of that year, a bluish fog was observed over the mountain called Skaptar Jokul, and the neighbourhood was shaken by earthquakes. After a while a great pillar of smoke was observed to ascend from it, which dark- ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 31 ened the whole surrounding district, and which descended in a whirlwind of ashes. On the loth of May, innumer- able fountains of fire were seen shooting up through the ice and snow which covered the mountain ; and the principal river, called the Skapta, after rolling down a flood of foul and poisonous water, disappeared. Two days after, a torrent of lava poured down into the bed which the river had deserted. The river had run in a ravine, 600 feet deep and 200 broad. This the lava entirely filled; and not only so, but it over- flowed the surrounding country, and ran into a great lake, from which it instantly expelled the water in an ex- plosion of steam. When' the lake was fairly filled, the lava again overflowed and divided into two streams, one of which covered some ancient lava fields ; the other re- entered the bed of the Skapta lower down ; and pre- sented the astounding sight of a cataract of liquid fire pouring over what was formerly the waterfall of Stapafoss. This was the greatest eruption on record in Europe. It lasted in its violence till the end of August, and closed with a violent earthquake; but for nearly the whole year a canopy of cinder-laden cloud hung over the island ; the Faroe Islands, nay, even Shetland and the Orkneys, were deluged with the ashes ; and volcanic dust and a preternatural smoke, which obscured the sun, covered all Europe as far as the Alps, over which it could not rise. It has been surmised that the great Fire- ball of August 18, 1783, which traversed all England and the Continent, from the North Sea to Rome, by far the greatest ever known (for it was more than half a 32 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. mile in diameter), was somehow connected with the electric excitement of the upper atmosphere produced by this enormous discharge of smoke and ashes. The destruction of life in Iceland was frightful : 9000 men, 11,000 cattle, 28,000 horses, and 190,000 sheep per- ished; mostly by suffocation. The lava ejected has been computed to have amounted in volume to more than twenty cubic miles. (42.) We shall now proceed to still more remote re- gions, and describe, in as few words as may be, two im- mense eruptions, one in Mexico, in the year 1759 ; the other in the island of Sumbawa in the Eastern Archi- pelago, in 1815. (43.) I ought to mention, by way of preliminary, that almost the whole line of coast of South and Central America, from Mexico southwards as far as Valparaiso that is to say, nearly the whole chain of the Andes is one mass of volcanos. In Mexico and Central America there are two and twenty, and in Quito, Peru, and Chili, six and twenty more, in activity ; and nearly as many more extinct ones, any one of which may at any moment break out afresh. This does not prevent the country from being inhabited, fertile, and well cultivated. Well : in a district of Mexico celebrated for the growth of the finest cotton, between two streams called Cuitimba and San Pedro, which furnished water for irrigation, lay the farm and homestead of Don Pedro de Jurullo, one of the richest and most fertile properties in that country. He was a thriving man, and lived in comfort as a large proprietor, little expecting the mischief that was to be- ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 33 fall him. In June 1759, however, a subterranean noise was heard in this peaceful region. Hollow sounds of the most alarming nature were succeeded by frequent earth- quakes, succeeding one another for fifty or sixty days ; but they died away, and in the beginning of September every- thing seemed to have returned to its usual state of tran- quillity. Suddenly, on the night of the 28th of Septem- ber, the horrible noises recommenced. All the inhabit- ants fled in terror; and the whole tract of ground, from three to four square miles in extent, rose up in the form of a bladder to a height of upwards of 500 feet ! Flames broke forth over a surface of more than half a square league, and through a thick cloud of ashes illuminated by this ghastly light, the refugees, who had ascended a mountain at some distance, could see the ground as if softened by the heat, and swelling and sinking like an agitated sea. Vast rents opened in the earth, into which the two rivers I mentioned precipitated themselves, but so far from quenching the fires, only seemed to make them more furious. Finally, the whole plain became covered with an immense torrent of boiling mud, out of which sprang thousands of little volcanic cones called Hornitos, or ovens. But the most astonishing part of the whole was the opening of a chasm vomiting out fire, and red- hot stones, and ashes, which accumulated so as to form " a range of six large mountain masses, one of which is upwards of 1600 feet in height above the old level, and which is now known as the volcano of Jorullo. It is continually burning ; and for a whole year continued to throw up an immense quantity of ashes, lava, and frag- c 34 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. ments of rock. The roofs of houses at the town or vil- lage of Queretaro, upwards of 140 miles distant, were covered with the ashes. The two rivers have again appeared, issuing at some distance from among the hornitos, but no longer as sources of wealth and fertility, for they are scalding hot, or at least were so when Baron Humboldt visited them several years after the event The ground even then retained a violent heat, and the hornitos were pouring forth columns of steam twenty or thirty feet high, with a rumbling noise like that of a steam-boiler. (44.) The Island of Sumbawa is one of that curious line of islands which links on Australia to the south- eastern corner of Asia. It forms, with one or two smaller volcanic islands, a prolongation of Java, at that time, in 1815, a British possession, and under the go- vernment of Sir Stamford Raffles, to whom we owe the account of the eruption, and who took a great deal of pains to ascertain all the particulars. Java itself, I should observe, is one rookery of volcanos, and so are all the adjoining islands in that long crescent-shaped line I refer to. (45.) On the Island of Sumbawa is the volcano of Tomboro, which broke out into eruption on the 5th of April in that year; and I can hardly do better than quote the account of it in Sir Stamford Raffles' own words : (46.) "Almost every one," says this writer, "is ac- quainted with the intermitting convulsions of Etna and Vesuvius as they appear in the descriptions of the poet, ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 35 and the authentic accounts of the naturalist; but the most extraordinary of them can bear no comparison, in point of duration and force, with that of Mount Tomboro in the Island of Sumbawa ! This eruption extended per- ceptible evidences of its existence over the whole of the Molucca Islands, over Java, a considerable portion of the Celebes, Sumatra, and Borneo, to a circumference of 1000 statute miles from its centre" (i.e., to 1000 miles' distance}, " by tremulous motions and the report of explo- sions. In a short time the whole mountain near the Sang'ir appeared like a body of liquid fire, extending it- self in every direction. The fire and columns of flame continued to rage with unabated fury, until the darkness, caused by the quantity of falling matter, obscured it at about eight P.M. Stones at this time fell very thick at Sang'ir, some of them as large as two fists, but generally not larger than walnuts. Between nine and ten P.M., ashes began to fall, and soon after a violent whirlwind ensued, which blew down nearly every house of Sang'ir, carrying the roofs and light parts away with it. In the port of Sang'ir, adjoining Sumbawa, its effects were much more violent, tearing up by the roots the largest trees, and carrying them into the air, together with men, horses, cattle, and whatsoever came within its influence. This will account for the immense number of floating trees seen at sea. The sea rose nearly twelve feet higher than it had ever been known to do before, and completely spoiled the only small spots of rice land in Sang'ir, sweeping away houses and everything within its reach. The whirlwind lasted about 36 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. an hour. No explosions were heard till the whirlwind had ceased at about eleven P.M. From midnight till the evening of the nth, they continued without intermis- sion ; after that time their violence moderated, and they were heard only at intervals ; but the explosions did not cease entirely until the i5th of July. Of all the villages round Tomboro, Tempo, containing about forty inhabit- ants, is the only one remaining. In Pekate' no vestige of a house is left ; twenty-six of the people, who were at Sumbawa at the time, are the whole of the population who have escaped. From the best inquiries, there were certainly not fewer than 1 2,000 individuals in Tomboro and Pekate' at the time of the eruption, of whom five or six survive. The trees and herbage of every description, along the whole of the north and west of the peninsula, have been completely destroyed, with the exception of a high point of land near the spot where the village of Tomboro stood. At Sang'ir, it is added, the famine occasioned by this event was so extreme, that one of the rajah's own daughters died of starvation." (47.) I have seen it computed that the quantity of ashes and lava vomited forth in this awful eruption would have formed three mountains the size of Mont Blanc, the highest of the Alps ; and if spread over the surface of Germany, would have covered the whole of it two feet deep ! The ashes did actually cover the whole island of Tombock, more than 100 miles distant, to that depth, and 44,000 persons there perished by starvation, from the total destruction of all vegetation. (48.) The mountain Kirauiah in the island of Owyhee, ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 37 one of the Sandwich Isles, exhibits the remarkable phenomenon of a lake of molten and very liquid lava always filling the bottom of the crater, and always in a state of terrific ebullition : rolling to and fro its fiery surge and flaming billows yet with this it is content, for it would seem that at least for a long time past there has been no violent outbreak so as to make what is generally understood by a volcanic eruption. Volcanic eruptions are almost always preceded by earthquakes, by which the beds of rock, that overlie and keep down the struggling powers beneath, are dislocated and cracked, till at last they give way, and the strain is immediately relieved. It is chiefly when this does not happen, when the force below is sufficient to heave up and shake the earth, but not to burst open the crust, and give vent to the lava and gases, that the most destructive effects are produced. The great earthquake of November i, 1755, which destroyed Lisbon, was an instance of this kind, and was one of the greatest, if not the very greatest on record j for the concussion extended over all Spain and Portugal indeed, over all Europe, and even into Scot- land over North Africa, where in one town in Morocco 8000 or 10,000 people perished. Nay, its effects extended even across the Atlantic to Madeira, where it was very violent ; and to the West Indies. The most striking feature about this earthquake was its extreme suddenness. All was going on quite as usual in Lisbon the morning of that memorable day ; the weather fine and clear ; and nothing whatever to give the population of that great capital the least suspicion of mischief. All 38 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. at once, at twenty minutes before ten A.M., a noise was heard like the rumbling of carriages under ground ; it increased rapidly and became a succession of deafening explosions like the loudest cannon. Then a shock, which, as described by one writing from the spot, seemed to last but the tenth part of a minute ; and down came tumbling palaces, churches, theatres, and every large public edifice, and about a third or a fourth part of the dwelling-houses. More shocks followed in rapid succession, and in six minutes from the commencement 60,000 persons were crushed in the ruins ! Here are the simple but expressive words of one J. Latham, who writes to his uncle in London. " I was on the river with one of my customers going to a village three miles off. Presently the boat made a noise as if on the shore or landing, though then in the middle of the water. I asked my companion if he knew what was the matter. He stared at me, and looking at Lisbon, we saw the houses falling, which made him say, ' God bless us, it is an earthquake ! ' About four or five minutes after, the boat made a noise as before; and we saw the houses tumble down on both sides of the river." They then landed and made for a hill ; whence they beheld the sea (which had at first receded and laid a great tract dry) come rolling in, in a vast mountain wave fifty or sixty feet high, on the land, and sweeping all before it. Three thousand people had taken refuge on a new stone quay or jetty just completed at great expense. In an instant it was turned topsy-turvy; and the whole quay, and every person on it, with all the vessels moored to it, ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 39 disappeared, and not a vestige of them ever appeared again. Where that quay stood, was afterwards found a depth of 100 fathoms (600 feet) water. It happened to be a religious festival, and most of the population were assembled in the churches, which fell and crushed them. That no horror might be wanting, fires broke out in innumerable houses where the wood-work had fallen on the fires ; and much that the earthquake had spared was destroyed by fire. And then too broke forth that worst of all scourges, a lawless ruffian-like mob, who plundered, burned, and murdered in the midst of all that desolation and horror. The huge wave I have spoken of swept the whole coast of Spain and Portugal Its swell and fall was ten or twelve feet at Madeira. It swept quite across the Atlantic, and broke on the shores of the West Indies. Every lake and firth in England and Scotland was dashed for a moment out of its bed, the water not partaking of the sudden shove given to the land, just as when you splash a flat saucerful of water, the water dashes over on the side from which the shock is given. (49.) One of the most curious incidents in this earth- quake was its effect on ships far out at sea, which would lead us to suppose that the immediate impulse was in the nature of a violent blow or thrust upwards, under the bed of the ocean. Thus it is recorded that this upward shock was so sudden and violent on a ship, at that time forty leagues from Cape St Vincent, that the sailors on deck were tossed up into the air to a height of eighteen inches. So also, on another occasion in 1796, a British ship eleven miles from land near the Philippine Islands 4O ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. was struck upwards from below with such force as to un- ship and split up the main-mast. (50.) Evidences of a similar sudden and upward ex- plosive action are of frequent occurrence among the extinct volcanos of Auvergne and the Vivarais, where in many instances the perforation of the granitic beds which form the basis or substratum of the whole country ap- pears to have been effected at a single blow, accom- panied with little evidence of disturbance of the sur- rounding rocks much in the same way as a bullet will pass through a pane of glass without starring or shatter- ing it. In such cases it would seem as if water in a liquid state had suddenly been let in through a fissure upon a most intensely heated and molten mass beneath, producing a violent but local explosion, so instantaneous as to break its way through the overlying rocks, without allowing time for them to bend or crumple, and so dis- place the surrounding masses. (51.) The same kind of upward bounding movement took place at Riobamba in Quito in the great earth- quake of February 4, 1797, which was connected with an eruption of the volcano of Tunguragua. That earth- quake extended in its greatest intensity over an oval space of 1 20 miles from south to north, and 60 from east to west, within which space every town and village was levelled with the ground ; but the total extent of surface shaken was upwards of 500 miles in one direc- tion (from Puna to Popayan), and 400 in the other. Quero, Riobamba, and several other towns, were buried under fallen mountains, and in a very few minutes ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 4! 30,000 persons were destroyed. At Riobamba, how- ever, after the earthquake, a great number of corpses were found to have been tossed across a river, and scattered over the slope of a hill on the other side. (52.) The frequency of these South American earth- quakes is not more extraordinary than the duration of the shocks. Humboldt relates that on one occasion, when travelling on mule-back with his companion Bonpland, they were obliged to dismount in a dense forest, and throw themselves on the ground : the earth being shaken uninterruptedly for upwards of a quarter of an hour with such violence that they could not keep their legs. (53.) One of the most circumstantially described earth- quakes on record is that which happened in Calabria on the 5th of February 1783 ; I should say began then, for it may be said to have lasted four years. In the year 1783, for instance, 949 shocks took place, of which 501 were great ones, and in 1784, 151 shocks were felt, 98 of which were violent. The centre of action seemed to be under the towns of Monteleone and Oppido. In a circle twenty-two miles in radius round Oppido every town and village was destroyed within two minutes by the first shock, and within one of seventy miles' radius all were seriously shaken and much damage done. The whole of Calabria was affected, and even across the sea Messina was shaken, and a great part ot Sicily. (54.) There is no end of the capricious and out-of-the- way accidents and movements recorded in this Calabrian 42 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. earthquake. The ground undulated like a ship at sea. People became actually sea-sick, and to give an idea of the undulation (just as it happens at sea), the scud of the clouds before the wind seemed to be fitfully arrested during the pitching movement when it took place in the same direction, and to redouble its speed in the reverse movement. At Oppido many houses were swallowed up bodily. Loose objects were tossed up several yards into the air. The flagstones in some places were found after a severe shock all turned bottom upwards. Great fissures opened in the earth, and at Terra Nova a mass of rock 200 feet high and 400 in diameter travelled four miles down a ravine. All landmarks were removed, and the land itself, in some instances, with trees and hedges growing on it, carried bodily away and set down in another place. Altogether about 40,000 people perished by the earthquakes, and some 20,000 more of the epide- mic diseases produced by want and the effluvia of the dead bodies. (55.) Volcanos occasionally break forth at the bottom of the sea, and, when this is the case, the result is usually the production of a new island. This, in many cases, disappears soon after its formation, being composed of loose and incoherent materials, which easily yield to the destructive power of the waves. Such was the case with the Island of Sabrina, thrown up, in 1811, off St Michaels, in the Azores, which disappeared almost as soon as formed, and in that of Pantellaria, on the Sicilian coast, which resisted longer, but was gradually washed into a shoal, and at length has, we believe, com- ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 43 pletely disappeared.* In numerous other instances, the cones of cinders and scoriae, once raised, have become compacted and bound together by the effusion of lava, hardening into solid stone, and thus, becoming habitual volcanic vents, they continue to increase in height and diameter, and assume the importance of permanent vol- canic islands. Such has been, doubtless, the history of those numerous insular volcanos which dot the ocean in so many parts of the world, such as Teneriffe, the Azores, Ascension, St Helena, Tristan d'Acunha, etc. In some cases the process has been witnessed from its commencement, as in that of two islands which arose in the Aleutian group, connecting Kamtschatka with North America, the one in 1796, the other in 1814, and which both attained the elevation of 3000 feet (56.) Besides these evident instances of eruptive action, there is every reason to believe that enormous floods of lava have been, at various remote periods in the earth's history, poured forth at the bottom of seas so deep as to repress, by the mere weight of water, all outbreak of steam, gas, or ashes ; and reposing perhaps for ages in a liquid state, protected from the cooling action of the water on their upper surface by a thick crust of con- gealed stony matter, to have assumed a perfect level; and, at length, by slow cooling, taken on that peculiar colum- nar structure which we see produced in miniature in * Such an event is at this moment in progress (March 1 866), close to the island of Santorini, in the bay of Thera, in the Greek Archipelago : itself, with the adjacent Kaimeni Islands, products ol the same kind. 44 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. starch by the contraction or shrinkage, and consequent splitting, of the material in drying ; and resulting in those picturesque and singular landscape-features called basaltic colonnades : when brought up to day by sudden or gradual upheaval, and broken into cliffs and terraces by the action of waves, torrents, or weather. Those grand specimens of such colonnades which Britain possesses in the Giant's Causeway of Antrim, and the cave of Fingal in Staffa, for instance, are no doubt extreme out- standing portions of such a vast submarine lava-flood which at some inconceivably remote epoch occupied the whole intermediate space ; affording the same kind of evidence of a former connexion of the coasts of Scotland and Ireland as do the opposing chalk cliffs of Dover and Boulogne of the ancient connexion of France with Britain. Here and there a small basaltic island, such as that of Rathlin, remains to attest this former conti- nuity, and to recall to the contemplative mind that sub- lime antagonism between sudden violence and persever- ing effort, which the study of geology impresses in every form of repetition. (57.) There exists a very general impression that earth- quakes are preceded and ushered in by some kind of preternatural, and, as it were, expectant calm in the elements j as if to make the confusion and desolation they create the more impressive. The records of such visitations which we possess, however striking some par- ticular cases of this kind may appear, by no means bear out this as a general fact, or go to indicate any particular phase of weather as preferentially accompanying their ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. 45 occurrence. This does not prevent, however, certain conjunctures of atmospheric or other circumstances from exercising a determining influence on the times of their occurrence. According to the view we have taken of their origin (viz., the displacement of pressure, resulting in a state of strain in the strata at certain points, gradu- ally increasing to the maximum they can bear without disruption), it is the last ounce which breaks the camel's back. Great barometrical fluctuation, accumulating at- mospheric pressure for a time over the sea, and reliev- ing it over the land ; an unusually high tide, aided by long-continued and powerful winds, heaping up the water ; nay, even the tidal action of the sun and moon on the solid portion of the earth's crust, all these causes, for the moment combining, may very well suffice to determine the instant of fracture, when the balance between the opposing forces is on the eve of subversion. The last-mentioned cause may need a few words of ex- planation. The action of the sun and moon, though it cannot produce a tide in the solid crust of the earth, tends to do so, and, were it fluid, -would produce it. It therefore, in point of fact, does bring the solid portions of the earth's surface into a state alternately of strain and compression. The effective part of their force, in the present case, is not that which aids to lift or to press the superficial matter (for that, acting alike on the continents and on the bed of the sea, would have no influence), but that which tends to produce lateral displacement; or what geometers call the tangential force. This of neces- sity brings the whole ring of the earth's surface, which 46 ABOUT VOLCANOS AND EARTHQUAKES. at any instant has the acting luminary on its horizon, into a state of strain ; and the whole area over which it is nearly vertical, into one of compression. We leave this point to be further followed out, but we cannot forbear remarking, that the great volcanic chains of the world have, in point of fact, a direction which this cause of dis- ruption would tend rather to favour than to contravene. LECTURE It THE SUN. j|HE subject I have chosen for this Lecture is perhaps an ambitious one ; for it is no less than an attempt to convey to my hearers some faint impression of the vastness and grandeur of the most magnificent object in nature of that glorious body which occupies the centre of our planetary system, and on which not only our own globe, but all the other planets, many of them of far greater magnitude and possibly too of greater importance in the scale of being than our own ; depend in the most immediate manner for the fulfilment of those conditions without which animated existence and organic life are impossible THE SUN. There is a poem of Byron's entitled " Darkness," which begins thus : " I had a dream which was not all a dream, The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the earth Did wander darkling in th' eternal space Rayless and pathless," 48 THE SUN. and so on : describing, or trying to describe, the horrors of that desolation which would ensue. They are as- sembled and piled on one another in this powerful poem with the hand of a master of the horrible ; and in the end everybody goes mad, fights with everybody else, and dies of starvation. (2.) But there would not be time for fighting or star- vation. In three days from the extinction of the sun there would, in all probability, not be a vestige of ani- mal or vegetable life on the globe ; unless it were among deep-sea fishes and the subterranean inhabitants of the great limestone caves. The first forty-eight hours would suffice to precipitate every atom of moisture from the air in deluges of rain and piles of snow, and from that moment would set in a universal frost such as Siberia or the highest peak of the Himalayas never felt a tem- perature of between two and three hundred degrees below the zero of our thermometers. This is no fanciful guess-work. Professor Tyndall has quite recently shown that it is entirely to the moisture existing in the air that our atmosphere owes its power of confining, and cherishing as it were the heat which is always endea- vouring to radiate away from the earth's surface into space. Pure ai* is perfectly transparent to terrestrial heat so that but for the moisture present in the atmo- sphere, every night would place the earth's surface as it were in contact with that intense cold which we are certain exists in empty space : a degree of cold which from several different and quite independent lines of in- quiry we are sure is not less than 230 degrees of Fah THE SUN. 49 renheit's thermometer below the zero of that scale. No animal or vegetable could resist such a frost for an horn, any more than it could live for an hour in boiling water. Such a frost exists, no doubt, over the dark half of the moon, which has no atmosphere, neither air nor vapour, and in all probability quite as violent an extreme of heat, a boiling temperature at least, over the bright half; so that we may pretty well make up our minds as to that half of the moon at least which we see, being uninhabited; while on the other hand, if it would not lead too far away from our immediate subject, I think it might be shown on admissible principles, that Venus and Mer- cury, in spite of their nearness to the sun, and possibly also Jupiter and Saturn, in spite of their remoteness, may have climates in which animal and vegetable life such as we see them here, might be maintained. (3.) But it is with the sun itself that we are now con- cerned. What I am going to say about the sun will consist of a series of statements so enormous in all their proportions, that I dare say, before I have done, some of my hearers will almost think me mad, or in- tending to palm on them a string of rhodomontades, like some of the mythical stories of the Hindus. And yet there is nothing more certain in modern science than the truth of some of the most extravagant of these statements ; and, wild as they may seem to those who for the first time hear them, they appear not only not extravagant, but actually dwarfed into littleness by the still vaster revelations of that science respecting the scale of the visible universe ; in every part of which when we D 50 THE SUN. come to measure in figures either the magnitude or the minuteness of its mechanisms, we find our arith- metic almost breaking down in the attempt, and num- bers of ten or twenty places of figures, as it were tossed about like dust, and turning up on every occasion. (4.) To come then to our subject. The first and most important office the sun has to perform in our system is to keep it together, to keep its members from parting company, from seceding, and running off into outer darkness, out of the reach of the genial influence of his beams. Were the sun simply extinguished, the planets would all continue to circulate round it as they do at present, only in cold and darkness; but were it annihilated, each would from that moment set forth on a journey into infinite space in the direction in which it happened then to be moving ; and wander on, centuries after centuries, lost in that awful abyss which separates us from the stars, and without making any sensible approach even to the nearest of them in many hundreds or even thousands of years. The power by which the sun is enabled to perform this office to gather the planets round its hearth and to keep them there is the same in kind (though very different in intensity) with that which when a stone is thrown up into the air draws it down again to the earth. As to the manner in which this is effected by the weight of the stone, or its tendency to fall straight down, acting to turn or draw it out of its right-lined course oblique to the surface, and oblige it to move in a curve, with the explanation of that we have here nothing to do. THE SUN. 51 That belongs to mechanics, and we must take it for granted. But in order to understand how it is possible to pass from this familiar case that we see every day before our eyes, to that of a vast globe like the earth revolving in an orbit about the sun, it will be neces- sary to enlarge the scale of our ideas of magnitude We must try to conceive a similar degree of command and control exercised over such a mass as our globe, and over the much greater masses of the remote planets, by the sun as a central body; hardly moved from its place, while as it were swinging all the others round it. And for this purpose it is necessary to possess some distinct conception of what sort of a body the sun really is of its size of its distance from us of its weight or mass and of the proportion it bears to the other bodies, the earth included, which circulate round it. (5.) It is strange what crude ideas people in general have about the size of very distant objects. I was read- ing only the other day a letter to the Times giving an ac- count of a magnificent meteor. The writer described it as round, about ttie size of a cricket-ball, and apparently about 100 yards off. Many persons spoke of the tail of the great comet of 1858 as being several yards long, without at all seeming aware of the absurdity of such a way of talking. The sun or the moon may be covered by a three- penny piece held at arm's length : but it takes a house, or a church, or a great tree to cover it on a near horizon, and a hill or a mountain on a distant one; so that it must be at least as large as any of these objects. Among 52 THE SUN. the ancient Greek philosophers there was a lively dispute as to the real size of the sun. One maintained that it was " precisely as large as it looks to be," a thoroughly Greek way of getting out of a difficulty. All the best thinkers among them, however, clearly saw that it must be a very large body. One of them (Anaxagoras) went the length of saying that it might be as large as all Greece, for which he got laughed at. But he was outbid by Anaximander, who said it was twenty-eight times as large the earth. What would Anaximander or the scoffer of Anaxagoras have said, could he have known what we now know, that, seen from the same distance as the sun, the territory of Greece would have been absolutely invisible; and that even the whole earth, if laid upon it, would not cover more than one thirteen-thousandth part of its ap- parent surface, less in proportion, that is to say, than a single letter in the broad expanse of type which meets the reader's eye when a closely-printed volume with a large page and small type lies open before him.* (6.) My object in this notice is not to put before my audience, except in one single instance, any connected chain of reasoning and deduction ; or to show how, from the principles of abstract science combined with observa- tion, the results I have to state have been obtained. This would lead me a great deal too far, and would re- quire not one but a whole series of such lectures. What I * The original type and page of "Good Words" were here re- ferred to, in which this lecture first appeared in print : each page of which contains about 6000 letters. The pages which now lie open before the eye of the reader contain, together, only about 2600. THE SUN. 53 aim at is to convey to their minds, as matters of fact, what those results are in the case of the sun, and to en- able them to form a conception of it as a reality. Still it is reasonable for any one to ask how it is possible to prove such a statement, for instance, as that just made : and as the kind of process by which our conclusions as to the size and mass of the sun are arrived at may be put in a few words, it will not be amiss to give a sketch of it. (7.) The first step towards ascertaining the real size of the sun is to determine its distance. Now, the simplest way to find the distance of an object which cannot be got at, is to measure what is called a base line from the two ends of which it can be seen at one and the same moment, and then to measure with proper instruments the angles at the base of the triangle formed by the dis- tant object and the two ends of the base. Geography and surveying in modern times have arrived at such per- fection, that we know the size and form of the earth we stand upon to an extreme nicety. It is a globe a little flattened in the direction of the poles, the longer dia- meter, that across the equator, being 7925 miles and five furlongs, and the shorter, or polar axis, 7899 miles and one furlong ; and in these measures it is pretty certain that there is not an error of a quarter of a mile. And knowing this, it is possible to calculate with quite as much exactness as if it could be measured, the distance in a straight line between any two places whose geographical positions on the earth's surface are known. Now there are two astronomical observatories very remote from one 54 THE SUN. another ; the one in the northern hemisphere, the other in the southern, viz., at Hammerfest in Norway, and at the Cape of Good Hope, both very nearly on the same meridian, so that the sun, or the moon, or any other heavenly body attains its greatest altitude above the hori- zon of each (or as astronomers express it, passes the meridian of each) very nearly at the same time. Suppos- ing then that this, its meridian altitude, is carefully ob- served at each of these two stations on the same day ; it is easy to find, by computation, the angles included be- tween each of the two lines of direction in which it was seen from the two places, and their common line of junction; so that taking this latter line for the base of a triangle, of which the two sides are the distances of the object from either place, those two sides can thence be calculated by the very same process of computation which is employed in geographical surveying to find the distance of a signal from observations at the ends of a measured base. Now, the distance between Hammerfest and the Cape in a straight line is nearly 6300 miles, and owing to the situations of the two places in latitude, the triangle in question is always what a land surveyor would call a favourable one for calculation : so that, with so long a base, we may reasonably expect to arrive at a considerably exact knowledge of its sides, after which a little addi tional calculation will readily enable us to conclude the distance of the object observed from the earth's centre. (8.) When the moon is the object observed, this ex- pectation is found to be justified. The triangle in ques- tion, though a long one, is not extravagantly so. Its THE SUN. 55 sides are found to be, each about thirty-eight times the length of the base, and the resulting distance of the moon from the earth's centre about thirty diameters of the latter, or more exactly sixty times and a quarter its radius, that is to say, 238,100 (say 240,000) miles, which is rather under a quarter of a million so that, speaking roughly, we may consider the moon's orbit round the earth as a circle about half a million of miles across. In the case of the sun, however, it is otherwise. The sides of our triangle are here what may be called extravagantly out of proportion to its base : and the result of the calculation is found to assign to the sun a distance very little short of four hundred times that already found for the moon being in effect no less than 23,984 (in round numbers 24,000) radii, or 12,000 diameters of the earth, or in miles 94,880,700 or about 95,000,000.* (9.) When so vast a disproportion exists between the distance of an object and the base employed to measure it, a very trifling error in the measured angles produces a great one in the result. Happily, however, there exists another and a very much more precise method, though far more refined in principle, by which this most import- ant element can be determined j viz., by observations of the planet Venus, at the time of its " transit " (or visible passage) across the sun's disc. It would lead us too far aside from our purpose to explain this, however, at * These numbers and all the subsequent statements in miles are too large by about I mile in 31. See Lecture III. oa Cometa 9- 56 THE SUN. length. The necessary observations were made at the time of the last " transit" in 1769, and will no doubt be repeated on the next occasion of the same kind, in 1874.* (10.) From the distance of the sun so obtained, and from its apparent size (or, as astronomers call it, its angular diameter), measured very nicely by delicate instruments called micrometers, the real diameter of the sun has been calculated at 882,000 miles, which I sup- pose may be taken as exact to a few odd thousands. (n.) Now, only let us pause a little, and consider among what sort of magnitudes we are landed. It runs glibly over the tongue to talk of a distance of 95,000,000 of miles, and a globe of 880,000 miles in diameter, but such numbers hardly convey any distinct notion to the mind. Let us see what kind of conception we can get of them in other ways. And first then, as to the distance. By railway, at an average rate of 40 miles an hour one might travel round the world in 26 days and nights. At the same rate it would take 270 years and more to get to the sun. The ball of an Armstrong 100- pounder leaves the gun with a speed of about 400 yards per second. Well, at the same rate of transit it would be more than thirteen years and a quarter in its journey to reach the sun ; and the sound of the explosion (sup- posing it conveyed through the interval with the same speed that sound travels in our air), would not arrive till half a year later. The velocity of sound, or ot any * The distance above stated is that which results from this more precise mode of procedure. See this explained in Lecture V., 17- THE SUN. 57 other impulse conveyed along a steel bar, is about six- teen times greater than in air. Now, suppose the sun and the earth connected by a steel bar. A blow struck at one end of the bar, or a pull applied to it, would not be delivered would not begin to be felt at the sun till after a lapse of 313 days. Even light, the speed ^of which is such that it would travel round the globe in less time than any bird takes to make a single stroke of his wing, requires seven minutes and a half to reach us from the sun. (12.) The illustration of the distance of the sun which I have just mentioned, by supposing it connected with the earth by a steel bar, will serve to give us some notion of the wonderful connexion which that mystery of mys- teries, gravitation, establishes between them. The sun draws or pulls the earth towards it. We know of no material way of communicating a pull to a distant object more immediate, more intimate, than grappling it with bonds of steel; and how such a bond would suffice we have just seen. But the///// on the earth which the sun makes is instantaneous, or at all events incomparably more rapid in its transmission across the interval than any solid connexion would produce, and even demon- strably far more rapid than the propagation of light itself* (13.) Let me now try to convey some sort of palpable notion of the size of the sun itself. On a circle six feet in diameter, representing a section of it through the centre, a similar section of the earth would be about * See note at the end of this lecture. 58 THE SUN. represented by a fourpenny-piece, and a distance of a thousand miles by a line of less than one-twelfth of an inch in length. A circle concentric with it, representing on the same scale the size of the moon's orbit about the earth, would have for its diameter only thirty-nine inches and a quarter, or very little more than half the sun's. Imagine, now, if you can, a globe concentric with this earth on which we stand ; large enough not only to fill the whole orbit of the moon, but to project beyond it on all sides into space almost as far again on the outside ! A spangle, representing the moon, placed on the circum- ference of its orbit so represented, would require to be only a sixth part of an inch in diameter. (14.) It is nothing to have the size of a giant without the strength of one. The sun retains the planets in their several orbits by a powerful mechanical force, precisely as the hand of a slinger retains the stone which he whirls round till the proper moment comes for letting it go. The stone pulls at the string one way, the controlling hand at the centre of its circle the other. Were the string too weak, it would break, and the stone, prema- turely released, would fly off in a tangential direction. If a mechanist were told the weight of the stone (say a pound), the length of the string (say a yard, including the motion of the hand), and the number of turns made by the stone in a certain time (say sixty in a minute, or one in a second), he would be able to tell precisely what ought to be the strength of the string so zsjust not to break; that is to say, what weight it ought at least to be able to lift without breaking. In the case I have mentioned, it THE SUN. 59 ought to be capable of sustaining 3 Ib. 10 oz. 386 grs. If it be weaker it will break. And this is the force or effort which the hand must steadily exert, to draw the stone in towards itself, out of the direction in which it would naturally proceed if let go ; and to keep it revolv- ing in a circle at that distance. (15.) Now, what the string does to the stone in the sling, that, in the case of the sun retaining the earth in its orbit, is done that same office is performed that effort (in some mysterious way which the human mind is utterly incapable of comprehending) is exerted that pull communicated ; in an instant of time, and so far as we can discover, without any material tie; by the force of gravitation. We know the time the earth takes to revolve about the sun. It is a year ; of so many days, hours, minutes and seconds ; and we know its distance 95,000,000 of miles, which may easily be turned into yards. Well, now, suppose a stone or a lump of lead of a ton weight to be tied to the sun by a string, and slung round it in such a circle and in such a time. Then, on the very same principles, and by the same rules of arithmetic, one may calculate the amount of pull, or tension of the string, and it will be found to come out i Ib. 6 oz. 51 grs. (16.) We all know what sort of lifting power what amount of muscular force it takes to sustain a pound weight. Multiply this by 2240 and you have the mus- cular effort necessary to sustain a ton. It would require three or four strong horses straining with all their might. Well, now, it is one of the peculiarities of this mysterious 6o THE SUN. power of gravitation, that its intensity the energy of its pull is less and less as the distance of the thing pulled is greater : and that in a higher proportion. At double the distance, the force of the pull is not halved, but quartered : at triple, it is not a third part, but a ninth. There are mountains in the world five miles high ; that is to say, whose summits are five miles farther from the centre of the earth than the sea-level. If a ton of lead were carried up to the top of such a mountain, though it would still balance another ton, or 2240 weights of a pound each on the scales, then and there ; yet it would not require so great an effort, such an exertion of mus- cular force, to raise and sustain it by five pounds and a half. Now, fancy it removed to a height of 94,900,000 miles from the earth's surface, and estimating by the same rule its apparent weight, you will find, if you make the calculation, that it would not require more effort to sus- tain it from falling, than would suffice to lift one thirty- seventh part of a grain from the surface of the earth. (17.) This, then, one thirty-seventh part of a grain, is the force which the earth, placed where the sun is, would exert on our lump of lead. But we have seen that to retain such a lump in such an orbit requires a pull of i Ib. 6 oz. 51 grs. Of course, then, the earth, so placed, would be quite inadequate to retain it from flying off. To do this would require as many earths to pull it as there are thirty-seventh parts of a grain in i Ib. 6 oz. 5 1 grs. : that is to say, by an easy sum in arithmetic, 356,929; or in round numbers, 360,000. Now. this is equivalent to saying, that to do the work which the sun THE SUN. 6l does upon each individual ton of matter which the earth consists of, it must pull it as if (mind I say as if) it were made up of 360,000 earths. And this is what is meant by saying, that the mass or quantity of gravitating matter constituting the sun is 360,000 times as great as the mass or quantity of such matter in the earth. (18.) Thus, now, you see, we have weighed as well as measured the sun, arid the comparison of the two results leads to a very remarkable conclusion. In point of size, the globe of the sun, being in diameter no times that of the earth, occupies in bulk the cube of that number, or 1,331,000 times the amount of space. The disproportion in bulk, then, is much greater than the disproportion in weight, very nearly four times greater : so that you see, comparatively speaking, and of course on an average of its whole mass, the sun consists of much lighter materials than the earth. And in this respect it agrees with all the four great exterior planets, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune ; while all the others Mercury, Venus, and Mars agree much more nearly with the earth, and seem to form a quite distinct and separate family. (19.) From this calculation of the mass of the sun, and from its diameter, we are enabled to calculate the pres- sure which any heavy body placed on its surface would exercise upon it, or what power it would require to lift it off. It is very nearly thirty times the power required to lift the same mass here on earth. A pound of lead, for instance, transported to the sun's surface, could not be raised from it by an effort short of what would lift thirty pounds here. A man could no more stand 62 THE SUN. upright there, than he could here on earth with twenty- nine men on his shoulders. He would be squeezed as flat as a pancake by his own weight. (20.) Giant Size and Giant Strength are ugly qualities without beneficence. But the sun is the almoner of the Almighty, the delegated dispenser to us of light and warmth, as well as the centre of attraction ; and as such, the immediate source of all our comforts, and indeed of the very possibility of our existence on earth. Even the very coals which we burn, owe their origin to the sun's influence, being all of vegetable materials, the re- mains of vast forests which have been buried and pre- served in that form for the use of man, millions of ages before he was placed on the earth ; and which, but for the solar light and heat, would have had no existence.* Indeed, the theory of heat which is now gaining ground would almost go to prove that it is the actual identical heat which the sun put into the coal, while in the form of living vegetation, that comes out again when it is burnt as coal in our grates and furnaces ; so that, after all, Swift's idea of extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, which he attributes to his Laputan philosophers, may not be so very absurd, f * See the treatise on Astronomy, by the author of this paper, in "Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopaedia," published in 1833. Stevenson (the celebrated engineer) has more recently drawn attention to this fact. T Not more so at least than some of his other Laputan speculations ; such as calcining ice into gunpowder : or moving vast locomotive masses by magnetism, both which feats have, in a somewhat altered form of expiession, been accomplished (as in the explosion of potas- sium when laid on ice, and the movement of a ship by electro-mag- THE SUN. 63 (21.) But how shall I attempt to convey to you any conception of the scale on which the great work of warming and lighting is carried on in the sun ? It is not by large words that it can be done. All "word- painting" must break down, and it is only by bringing before you the consideration of great facts in the sim- plest language, that there is any chance of doing it. In the very outset here is the greatest fact of all the enor- mous waste, or what appears to us to be waste the ex- cessive, exorbitant prodigality of diffusion of the sun's light and heat. No doubt it is a great thing to light and warm the whole surface of our globe. Then look at such globes as Jupiter and Saturn and the others. This, as you will soon see, is something astounding ; but then look what a trifling space they occupy in the whole sphere of diffusion around the sun. Conceive that little globe of the earth, such as we have described it in com- parison with our six feet sphere, removed 12,000 of its own diameters, that is to say, 210 yards from the centre of such a sphere (for that would be the relative size of its orbit) ! why, it would be an invisible point, and would require a strong telescope to be seen at all as a thing having size and shape. It occupies only the 75,oooth part of the circumference of the circle which it describes about the sun. So that 75,000 of such earths at that distance, and in that circle placed side by side, would netism) ; or than his plan for writing books by the concourse of acci- dental letters, and selection of such combinations as form syllables, words, sentences, &c., which has a close parallel in the learned theories of the production of the existing races of animals by natural selection. 64 THE SUN. all be equally well wanned and lighted, and, then, that is only in one plane ! But there is the whole sphere of space above and below, unoccupied ; at any single point of which if an earth were placed at the same distance, it would receive the same amount of light and heat. Take all the planets together, great and small ; the light and heat they receive is only one 227 millionth part of the whole quantity thrown out by the sun. All the rest escapes into free space, and is lost among the stars ; or Iocs there some other work that we know nothing about. Of the small fraction thus utilized in our system, the earth takes for its share only one loth part, or less than one 2000 millionth part of the whole supply. (22.) Now, then, bearing in mind this huge preliminary fact to start with, let us see what amount of heat the earth does receive from the sun. The earth is a globe ; and therefore, taken on an average, it is constantly re- ceiving as much, both of light and heat, as a flat circle 8000 miles in diameter, held perpendicularly to receive it. Now, that section is 50,000,000 square miles, so that there falls at every instant on the whole earth 50,000,000 times as much heat as falls on a square mile of the hottest desert under the equator at noonday with a vertical sun and with not a cloud in the sky and in fact nearly a third more ; for more than a quarter of the sun's heat is absorbed in the air in the clearest weather, and never reaches the ground. Now, we all know that in those countries it is much hotter than we like to keep our rooms by fires. I have seen the thermometer four inches deep in the sand in South Africa rise to 159 Fahrenheit THE SUN. 6$ and I have cooked a beef-steak and boiled eggs hard by simple exposure to the sun in a box covered with a pane of window-glass, and placed in another box so covered. (23.) From a series of experiments I made there, I ascertained that the direct heat of the sun, received on a a surface capable of absorbing and retaining it, is com- petent to melt an inch in thickness of ice in 2 i3 m , and from this I was enabled to calculate how much ice would be melted per hour by the heat actually thrown on a square mile exposed at noon under the equator, and the result is 58,360,000 lb., or in round numbers, 26,000 tons, and this vast mass, has to be multiplied 50 million- fold to give the effect produced on a diametral section of our globe. (24.) And, now, let us endeavour to form some kind of estimate of the temperature; that is to say, the degree or intensity of the heat at the actual surface of the sun. By a calculation, with which I will not trouble you, it turns out to be more than 90,000 times greater than the in- tensity of sunshine here on our globe at noon and under the equator a far greater heat than can be produced in the focus of any burning-glass ; though some have been made powerful enough to melt, not only silver and gold, but even platina, and, indeed, all metals which resist the greatest heats that can be raised in furnaces. (25.) Perhaps the best way to convey some sort of conception of it, will be to state the result of certain ex- periments and calculations recently published ; which is this that the heat thrown out FROM EVERY SQUARE YARD E 66 THE SUN. of the sun's surface is equal to that which would be pro- duced by burning on that square yard six tons of coal per hour, and keeping up constantly to that rate of con- sumption which, if used to the greatest advantage, would keep a 63,000 horse steam-engine at work. And this, mind, on each individual square yard of that enormous surface which is 12,000 times that of the whole surface of the earth ! (26.) Let me say something now of the light of the sun. The means we have of measuring the intensity of light are not nearly so exact as in the case of heat but this at least we know that the most intense lights we can pro- duce artificially, are as nothing compared surface for sur- face with the sun. The most brilliant and beautiful light which can be artificially produced is that of a ball of quicklime kept violently hot by a flame of mixed ignited oxygen and hydrogen gases playing on its surface. Such a ball, if brought near enough to appear of the same size as the sun does, can no more be looked at without hurt than the sun but if it be held between the eye and the sun, and both so enfeebled by a dark glass as to allow of their being looked at together it appears as a black spot on the sun or as the black outline of the moon in an eclipse, seen thrown upon it. It has been ascertained by experiments which I cannot now describe, that the brightness, the intrinsic splendour, of the surface of such a lime-ball is only one i46th part of that of the sun's surface. That is to say, that the sun gives out as much light as 146 balls of quicklime each the size of the sun, and each heated over all its surface in the way I have de- THE SUN. 67 scribed, which is the most intense heat we can raise, and in which platina melts like lead. (27.) On the benefits which the sun's light confers on us it cannot be necessary to say much ; only one thing, I think, may not be known to all who may read these pages, viz., that it is not only by enabling us to see that it is useful, but that it is quite as necessary as its heat to the life and well-being both of plants and animals. Animals, indeed, may live some time in complete dark- ness, but they grow unhealthy; lose strength and pine away; while plants very quickly lose their green colour; turn white or pale yellow; lose all their peculiar scent and flavour; refuse to flower; and at last rot and die off. What I have now to say about the light of the sun is of quite a different nature. (28.) The sun's light, as we all know, is purely white. If the sun sometimes looks yellow or red, it is because it is seen through vapours, or smoke, or a London fog of smoke and vapour mixed. It has been seen blue ;* but when high up, in a clear sky, it is quite white. The whiteness of snow, of a white cloud, of white paper, is the whiteness of the sun's light which falls upon them. Whatever re- flects the rays of the sun without choice or preference, appears white. Whatever does not do so appears coloured ; and if it does not reflect them at all black. Now I must explain what I mean by saying " without choice cr pre- * This has been denied by Arago. But I have a description of the phoc-nomenon by an eye-witness, accompanied with a coloured drawing, which leaves no doubt on my mind of the reality of the fact. It was after a hurricane at Barbadoes. 68 THE SUN. ference." Every ray of light which comes from the sun is not a simple but a compound thing. Here, again, I must explain. The air we breathe is not a simple but a com- pound thing. It is separable at least into four distinct things, as different from one another as any four things you can name. Well, then, so of a ray or beam of the sun ; it may be separated, split, subdivided, not into four, but into many hundreds, nay, thousands, of perfectly dis- tinct rays or things, or rather of three distinct sorts or species of rays ; of which one sort affects the eyes as light ; one the sense of feeling and the thermometer as heat ; and one the chemical composition of everything it falls upon ; and which produces all the effects of photo- graphy. Each of these three classes (and I believe there are several more, indeed I have proved the existence of one more) consists of absolutely innumerable species or sorts ; every one of which is separated from every other by a boundary line, as sharp and as distinct as that which separates Kent and Sussex on a map. A ray of light is a world in miniature, and if I were to set down all that experiment has revealed to us of its nature and constitu- tion, it would take more volumes than there are pages in the manuscript of this lecture. (29.) When the sun's light is allowed to pass through a small hole in a dark place, the course of the ray or sunbeam may be traced through the air (by reason of the small fine dust that is always floating in it), as a straight line or thread of light of the same apparent size, or very nearly so, from the hole to the opposite wall. But if in the course of such a beam, be held at any point the edge THE SUN. 69 of a clear angular polished piece of glass called a prism, the course of the beam from that place will be seen to be bent aside in a direction towards the thicker part ol the glass and not only so bent or refracted, but spread out to a certain degree, so that the beam in its furthei progress grows continually broader, the light being dis- persed, into a flat fan-shaped plane : and if this be re- ceived on white paper ; instead of a single white spot which the unbroken beam would have formed on it, appears a coloured streak ; the colours being of exceed- ing vividness and brilliancy, and following one another in a certain fixed order graduating from a pure crimson red at the end least remote from the original direction (or least deviated], through orange, yellow, green, and blue, to a faint and rather rosy violet. This beautiful phenomenon the Prismatic Spectrum, as it is called strikes every one who sees it for the first time in a high degree of purity, with wonder and delight ; as I once had the gratification of witnessing in the case of that eminent artist the late Sir David Wilkie, who, strange to say, had never seen a " Spectrum" till I had the pleasure of showing him one ; and whose exclamations, though a man habitually of few words, I shall not easily forget. I shall not attempt to give any account of the theory of this prismatic dispersion of the sunbeam ; but an illustra- tion of it may be found in a very familiar and primitive operation the winnowing of wheat. Suppose I had a sieve full of mixed grains and other things shot, for instance ; wheat grains ; sand ; chaff ; feathers ; and that I flung them all out across a side wind, and noticed 7O THE SUN. where they fell The shot would fall in one place, the wheat in another, the sand in another, the chaff in another, and the feathers anywhere nowhere ; but none of them in the straight direction in which they were originally tossed. All would be deviated ; and if you marked the places of each sort, you would find them all arranged in a certain order that of their relative light- ness in a line on the ground, oblique to the line of their projection. You would have separated and assorted them, and formed a spectrum, so to speak, on the ground; or a picture of what had taken place in the process ; which would in effect have been the perfor- mance of a mechanical analysis of the contents of your basket. (30.) Bearing always in mind that it is an illustration of a series of facts, not a theoretical explanation of a natural process, which is here intended ; I will now pro- ceed to observe that the analogy of this case to that of the prismatic analysis of a sunbeam may be pursued still further. If the original contents of the basket had been all of one material, such as sand, consisting of a mixture of particles of every gradation of coarseness and fineness ; from small pebbles down to impalpable dust ; the trace upon the ground, the sand spectrum, however long, would be uninterrupted : the coarsest particles lying at one end ; the finest at the other ; and every intermediate size in every intermediate place. On the other hand, in the case first supposed, and supposing the shot to differ inter se in respect of size within certain limits ; the wheat grains again within certain other ; the sand within other ; THE SUN. and so on ; they would be found after projection all in- deed lying in a line, but that line an interrupted one consisting first of shot occupying a certain length ; then an interval; then wheaten grains to a certain extent another interval then sand, chaff, and so on. Now this is by no means an inapt though a coarse representation of the constitution of the Prismatic Spectrum. When it is formed by an extremely pure prism, and with certain precautions (which need not here be detailed) to ensure the perfect purity of its colours, it is found to be discon- tinuous : that is to say, not a simple streak like a riband of paper coloured from end to end by tints graduating insensibly from red to violet, but like such a riband marked, across its breadth, by perfectly black lines of exceeding delicacy, yet some wider some narrower than others ; and where these lines are, the paper is not illu- minated at all. Into these spaces (for narrow as they are, they have each a certain breadth) none of the light dispersed by the prism falls. These lines, be it also observed, are not occasional or accidental, but perma- nent ; and belong to the sun's light as such. They divide the spectrum into compartments as the boundary lines between counties on a map divide the soil into regions ; and each individual of these compartments differs in other qualities besides colour from its neigh- bours on either side ; much as contiguous regions of a country differ in soil and cultivation as well as in climate. It is as if our assorted grains were distinguished not only by being coloured according to their respective sizes, but each particular size and weight distinguished 72 THE SUN. also by differences in the material of which they con- sisted. (31.) Every observer who has examined the spectrum with more care than the last, has added to the number of these lines. Dr Wollaston first noticed two or three of the most conspicuous. Fraunhofer registered and fixed the places of some thirty or forty more ; and later observers have mapped down with all the precision of a geographical survey, not less than two thousand of them. The knowledge of them, and the precise measurement of their distances from one another, has proved most valu- able in a great many lines of scientific enquiry, and most particularly in Optics and Chemistry ; and, quite recently, has been the means of revealing facts respecting the con- stitution of the sun itself, which one would have supposed it impossible for man ever to have become acquainted with. One word more on these lines for we must hus- band time, as there remains a great deal more ground to go over. I have said that they are not occasional, but belong to the sun's light as such. But they may be con- sidered as in some sort accidental as regards the sun for the light of each of the stars when thrown into a spec- trum, is found to have a different system of these " fixed lines." And what is more, the light of every flame has its peculiar lines, which indicate the nature of the burn- ing substance. And in this way there seems to arise a possibility that by studying these lines carefully, as ex hibited by terrestrial flames and other sources of artificial light, we may come to a knowlege of what the sun and stars are made of. This is what men of science are now THE SUN 73 very busily occupied about, and it seems to have been rendered at least highly probable I do not say that it has been proved that a great many of the chemical elements of this our earth exist in the sun such as, for instance, iron, soda, magnesia, and some others. We cannot here state the extraordinary facts on which this conclusion rests. But the conclusion itself is not so ab- solutely strange and startling as it may at first appear. The analysis of meteorolites, which there can be no doubt have come to the earth from very remote regions of the Planetary spaces, has, up to the present time, exhibited no new chemical element so that a community of nature, at least as regards material constitution, between our earth and the rest of the bodies of our system, is at all events no unexpected, as it is, in itself, no unreason- able conclusion. (32.) Not that it is meant, by anything above said, to imply that the light of the sun is that of any flame, in the usual sense of the word. A late celebrated French phil- osopher, M. Arago, indeed, considered that he had proved it to be so by certain optical tests. But in the first place his proof is vitiated by an enormous oversight ; and the thing, besides, is a physical impossibility. The light and heat of the sun cannot possibly arise from the burning of fuel, so as to give out what we call flame. If it be the sun's substance that burns (I mean consumes), where is the oxygen to come from 1 and what is to become of the ashes, and other products of combustion ? Even supposing the oxygen supplied from the material, as in the cases of gunpowder, Bengal light, or gun cotton, still 74 THE SUN. the chemical products have to be disposed of. In the case of gun cotton, it has been calculated that, if the sun were made of it so condensed as only to burn on the surface, it would burn out, at the rate of the sun's ex- penditure of light and heat, in eight thousand years. Any- how fire, kept up by fuel and air, is out of the question. There remain only three possible sources of them, so far as we can perceive electricity, friction, and vital action. The first of these was suggested by the late Sir William Herschel in 1801; the second, at least as a possibility, though without indicating any mode by which the neces- sary friction could arise, by myself, in a work* published in 1833. The theory at present current of it is founded on what may not unfairly be considered a further develop- ment of this idea, the friction being supposed to arise from meteoric matter circulating round the sun, and gradually subsiding into it, and either tearing up its sur- face, or ploughing into its atmosphere. But on this we cannot dilate, as nothing has been hitherto said about the appearance of the sun in telescopes, and the strange phgenomena its surface, so examined, exhibits. (33.) One of the earliest applications of the telescope was to turn it on the sun. And the first fruits of this application (which originated about the same time in the year 1611, with Harriot in England, Galileo in Italy, and Fabricius and Scheiner in Germany), was the dis- * "Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopaedia," Astronomy, s. 337, p. 212. Aristotle was earlier in making this suggestion : but such random guesses as those of the ancients can hardly merit the name of scien- tific suppestions. THE SUN. 75 covery of black spots on its surface, which, when watched from day to day, were found to change their situation on its disc, in a certain regular manner; coming in, or making their first appearance on the eastern edge or border of the disc : i.e., on the left-hand side of the sun when seen at noonday; and going off, or disappearing at the west, or on the right-hand side. It very soon became evident that, whatever these spots might be, they adhered to the body of the sun, and that their apparent motions could only be accounted for by a real motion of rotation of the sun on an axis nearly, but not quite, per- pendicular to the ecliptic. By following out this indica- tion by careful observation and calculation, it has become known that the sun does so rotate; that the time occupied in a single rotation is very nearly 25 days 7 hours 48 minutes ; that the axis of rotation is about 7 inclined to a line perpendicular to the ecliptic, its direc- tion in space being that of a line pointing nearly to the star r (tau), in the constellation of the Dragon ; in con- sequence of which on and about the nth of June, the spots appear to pass across the sun in straight lines, from the apparent northern to the apparent southern hemi- sphere of the sun, and the reverse on and about the i2th of December, while at intervening times, their course across the sun is a flattened elliptical or oval curve ; a necessary consequence of their real motion being in a circle much inclined to the line of sight. Their ellipses are most open on the i ith of March, and the i3th of Sep- tember; on the former of which days we get the best view of the south pole of the sun, and on the latter of the north, 76 THE SUN. (34.) But here comes the strange part of their history. These spots are not permanent marks on the sun's surface. They come and go. They begin as small dim specks ; grow to be great blotches ; and then dwindle away. Sometimes they are large enough to be seen without a telescope, when the sun is near setting or just risen, so as to have its dazzling splendour mitigated by the vapours of the horizon, and admit of being looked at steadily. Many instances of such appearances are recorded, some very remarkable ones, long before the invention of the telescope. Two were so seen by my son, Mr A. Herschel, in London, in November, 1861, who sent me a drawing of them, which I found verified on comparison with a drawing taken from the telescope on the same day, by a very assiduous observer in my im- mediate neighbourhood. (35.) Ever since the first discovery of the solar spots, they have been watched with great interest, and it has been ascertained that they do not make their appearance indiscriminately upon every part of the globe of the sun. At or near either of its poles they never appear ; and very rarely indeed on its equator, or on any part of its body beyond the 4oth degree of latitude understand- ing that term on the sun in the same acceptation which geographers attach to it on our own globe. They mainly frequent two zones or belts parallel to its equator ; bearing very nearly the same relation to that great circle of its sphere which the regions on our own globe in which tne trade winds prevail, bear to the equatorial region of the earth extending, that is to say, to some THE SUN. 77 25 or 3O 3 of north, and not quite so far, or in such abundance in south latitude; with a comparatively spot- less intermediate belt, of five or six degrees broad be- tween them, answering to our region of equatorial calms. The resemblance is so striking as most strongly to suggest some analogy in the causes of the two phaenomena and it has been suggested that as our trade winds originate in a greater influx of heat from without, on and near the equator, than at the poles, combined with the earth's rotation on its axis : so the maculiferous belts of the sun may owe their origin to a less * equatorial efflux of heat, combined with the axial rotation of that luminary.t There is another extremely remarkable feature in the appearance and disappearance of these spots. I have said that they are not permanent. Sometimes, indeed, but rarely, one and the same spot lasts long enough, after disappearing at the western edge of the sun, to come round again and reappear at the eastern ; and it has happened that a spot has lasted long enough to reappear four or five times ; but for the most part this is not the case. But as regards the number of spots which appear on the sun at different times, there is the greatest pos- sible difference. Sometimes it is quite spotless ; al others the spots swarm upon it : and as many as fifty 01 sixty spots or groups, large and small, have been seen at once, arranged in two belts. (36.) Now, it has lately been ascertained by a careful * Misprinted grea'er in the original lecture as it appeared in Good Words. t " Results of Astronomical Observations at the Cape of Good Hope," by the author, p. 434. 78 THE SUN. comparison of all the recorded observations of the spots, that the periods of their scarcity and abundance succeed one another at regular intervals of a trifle more than five years and a half: so that in eleven years and one-tenth, or nine times in a century, the sun passes through all its states of purity and spottiness. Thus, for instance, in the present century, the years 1800, 1811, 1822, 1833, 1844, 1855-6 were years in which the sun exhibited few or no spots, while in the years 1805, 1816, 1827, 1838, 1849, 1860, the spots have been remarkably abundant and large. Several attempts have been made to connect this with periodical variations in the weather, with hot and cold years wet and dry ones years of good and bad harvests, etc. ; but though I believe there is some such connexion, it is so overlaid and, as it were, masked by the multitude of causes which act to produce what we call the prevalent weather of a season, that nothing satisfactory has been made out. But there are two classes of phenomena or facts which occur here on earth which certainly do stand in very singular accordance with the appearance and disappearance of the sun's spots. The first is that splendid and beautiful appearance in the sky which we call the Aurora or Northern lights ; and which, by comparison of the recorded displays, have been ascer- tained to be much more frequent in the years when the spots are abundant, and extremely rare in those years when the sun is free from spots. The other is a class of facts not so obvious to common observation, but of very great importance to us ; because it is connected with the history and theory of the mariner's compass, and with THE SUN. 79 the magnetism of the earth ; which we all know to be the cause of the compass needle pointing to the north. This is only a rough way of speaking. It does not point to the north, but very considerably to the west of north, and that, not always alike. Three centuries ago it pointed nearly as much east as now west of north. From year to year the change is very perceptible ; and, what is more, at every hour of the day there is a small but perfectly distinct movement to and fro, eastward and westward, of its average direction. But besides this, the compass needle is subject to irregular, sudden, and ca- pricious variations jerking, as it were, aside, and oscil- lating backwards and forwards without any visible cause of disturbance. And, what is still more strange ; these disturbances and jerks sometimes go on for many hours and even days, and often at the same instants of time, over very large regions of the globe ; and in some remarkable instances, over the whole earth the same jerks and jumps occurring at the same moments of time (allowance made for the difference of longitude). These occurrences are called magnetic storms, and they invari- ably accompany great displays of the Aurora ; and are very much more frequent when the sun is most spotted, and rarely or never witnessed in the years of few spots. (37.) The last four years* have been remarkable for spots, and there occurred on the ist September 1859, an appearance on the sun which may be considered an epoch, if not in the sun's history, at least in our know- * This lecture was delivered about the end of 1 86 1. 8o THE SUN. ledge of it. On that day great spots were exhibited ; and two observers, far apart and unknown to each other, were viewing them with powerful telescopes ; when sud- denly, at the same moment of time, both saw a strikingly brilliant luminous appearance, like a cloud of light far brighter than the general surface of the sun, break out in the immediate neighbourhood of one of the spots, and sweep across and beside it. It occupied about five minutes in its passage, and in that time travelled over a space on the sun's surface which could not be estimated at less than 35,000 miles. (38.) A magnetic storm was in progress at the time. From the 28th of August to the 4th of September many indications showed the earth to have been in a perfect convulsion of electro-magnetism. When one of the observers I have mentioned had registered his observa- tion ; he bethought himself of sending to Kew, where there are self-registering magnetic instruments always at work, recording by photography at every instant of the twenty-four hours the positions of three magnetic needles differently arranged. On examining the record for that day, it was found that at that very moment of time (as if the influence had arrived with the light) all three had made a strongly marked jerk from their former positions. By degrees, accounts began to pour in of great Auroras seen on the nights of those days ; not only in these lati- tudes, but at Rome ; in the West Indies ; on the tropics within 1 8 of the equator (where they hardly ever ap- pear), nay, what is still more striking, in South America and in Australia ; where, at Melbourne, on the night of THE SUN. 8l the zd of September the greatest Aurora ever seen there made its appearance. These Auroras were accompanied with unusually great electro-magnetic disturbances in every part of the world. In many places the telegraphic wires struck work. They had too many private messages of their own to convey. At Washington and Philadel- phia, in America, the telegraph signal-men received severe electric shocks. At a station in Norway the telegraphic apparatus was set fire to ; and at Boston, in North America, a flame of fire followed the pen of Bain's electric telegraph, which, as my hearers perhaps know, writes down the message upon chemically prepared paper. (39.) I must now proceed to tell you what the tele- scope has revealed to us as to the nature and magnitude of these spots. And here again, the closer we look, the more the wonder increases. The spots were at first supposed to be clouds of black smoke floating over the great fieiy furnace beneath, then great lumps of fresh coal laid on ; then comets fallen in to feed the fire ; then tops of mountains standing up above a great surging ocean of melted matter. They are none of all these things ; they are not clouds floating above the light, nor protuberances sticking up above the general surface ; they are regions in which, by the action of some most violent cause, the bright, luminous clouds, or what at all events we may provisionally call clouds, which float in the sun's atmosphere, are for a time cleared off; and through the irregular vacuities thus created, allow us to see perhaps thousands or tens of thousands of miles F 82 THE SUN. below them, first, a layer of what we may consider real clouds, which appear comparatively dark, as if they were not self-luminous, but were seen only by the reflected light of the upper layer of bright ones ; secondly, through other openings in this first layer, a second still darker layer, independent of the first, and probably still thou- sands of miles below that, and reached by some but very little light from above ; and thirdly, through again other openings, what at present we must consider to be the body of the sun itself at some vast and im- measurable depth still lower and emitting so little light in comparison as to appear quite black, though that does not prevent its being in as vivid a state of fiery glare as a white-hot iron ; when we remember what has been said of the lime light appearing black against the light of the sun's surface. And it is a fact, that when Venus, and Mercury pass across the sun, and are seen as round spots on it, they do really appear . sensibly blacker than the blackest parts of the spots. (40.) The sun then has an atmosphere, and in that atmosphere float at least three layers of something, that, for want of a better word, we must call clouds. The two nearest the body are not luminous. They cannot possibly be clouds of watery vapour, such as we have in our air, for water in a non-transparent state could not exist at that heat; but they may be what perhaps we might call smokes, that is to say, clouds in which the metals or their oxides and the earths exist in the same intermediate form that water does in our clouds. The third or upper layer of luminous clouds ; or, as it is called, THE SUN. 83 " the photosphere," is a sort of thing that three or four years ago we might be said to know nothing at all about ; I mean as to its nature and constitution; but within that time a most wonderful discovery has been made by Mr Nasmyth. According to his observations, made with a very fine telescope of his own making, the bright surface of the sun consists of separate, insulated, indi- vidual objects or things, all nearly or exactly of one cer- tain definite size and shape, which is more like that of a willow leaf, as he describes them, than anything else. These leaves or scales are not arranged in any order (as those on a butterfly's wing are), but lie crossing one another in all directions, like what are called spills in the game of spillikins ; except at the borders of a spot, where they point for the most part inwards towards the middle of the spot, presenting much the sort of appear- ance that the small leaves of some water-plants or sea- weeds do at the edge of a deep hole of clear water. The exceedingly definite shape of these objects ; their exact similarity one to another ; and the way in which they lie across and athwart each other (except where they form a sort of bridge across a spot, in which case they seem to affect a common direction, that, namely, of the bridge itself), all these characters seem quite repugnant to the notion of their being of a vaporous, a cloudy, or a fluid nature. Nothing remains but to consider them as separate and independent sheets, flakes, or scales, having some sort of solidity. And these flakes, be they what they may, and whatever may be said about the dashing of meteoric stones into the sun's atmosphere, etc., are 84 THE SUN. evidently the immediate sources of the solar light and heat, by whatever mechanism or whatever processes they may be enabled to develop and, as it were, elaborate these elements from the bosom of the non-luminous fluid in which they appear to float. Looked at in this point of view, we cannot refuse to regard them as organisms of some peculiar and amazing kind ; and though it would be too daring to speak of such organization as partaking of the nature of life, yet we do know that vital action is competent to develop both heat, light, and electricity. These wonderful objects have been seen by others as well as by Mr Nasmyth, so that there is no room to doubt of their reality. To be seen at all, however, even with the highest magnifying powers our telescopes will bear when applied to the sun, they can hardly be less than a thousand miles in length, and two or three hundred in breadth. (41.) Next as to the actual size of the spots them- selves : the distance of the sun is so vast, that a single second of angular measure on its surface as seen from the earth corresponds to 460 miles ; and since, to pre- sent a distinguishable form, so as to allow of a certainty, for instance, that it is round or square, in the best tele- scopes, an object must present a surface of at least a second in diameter, it follows that to be seen at all so as to make out its shape, a spot must cover an area of not less than two hundred thousand square miles. Now, spots of not very irregular, and what may be called a com- pact form, of two minutes in extent, covering, that is to gay, an area of between seven and eight hundred millions THE SUN. 85 of square miles, are by no means uncommon. One spot which I measured in the year 1837 occupied no less than three thousand seven hundred and eighty millions, taking in all the irregularities of its form ; and the black space or "' umbra " in the middle of one, which was very nearly round, would have allowed the earth to drop through it, leaving a thousand miles clear of contact on every side : and many instances of much larger spots than these are on record. What are we to think, then, of the awful scale of hurricane and turmoil and fiery tempest which can in a few days totally change the form of such a region, break it up into distinct parts open up great abysses in one part, such as that I have just described, and fill up others beside them ? As to the forms of the spots, they are so conspicuously irregular as to defy de- scription. (42.) But we must proceed, for there are more won- ders yet to relate. Far beyond the photosphere, or brilliant surface of the sun, extends what perhaps may be considered as its true atmosphere. This can only be seen at all in the rare opportunities afforded by total eclipses of the sun. Everybody knows that an eclipse of the sun is caused by the moon coming between it and us. Now, by an odd coincidence, it so happens that the sun being 400 times farther off than the moon, is also ALMOST exactly, but a trifle less than 400 times as large in diameter; so that when the centre of the moon comes exactly in the line with the centre of the sun it appears to cover it, and a very little more, so as to pro- ject on all sides a very little beyond it Now, as the 86 THE SUN. moon is opaque (or not transparent), it completely stops all the light from every part of the bright disc of the sun, so long as the total eclipse continues, which is sometimes as much as two or three minutes ; and then are witnessed, what at no other time can be seen, viz., certain wonder- ful appearances of rose-coloured masses of light project- ing, as it were, from the dark edge of the moon, for the most part like knobs, or cones, or long ranged ridges of what would seem to be mountains, rising from it ; but sometimes like clouds or flaring flag-shaped masses of red light, some of which have been seen quite detatched from all connexion with the moon's border. That they belong to the sun, however, and not the moon, is evident from the fact that the moon in its progress over the sun's face gradually hides those to which it is approaching, and discloses those which belong to that side of the sun which the moon is going to leave ; for I should mention that they are seen irregularly placed all round the edge of the sun. (43.) Now, what are these singular lights? Flames they certainly are not; clouds of some sort it is ex- tremely probable that they are, of most excessively thin and filmy vapour, floating in a transparent atmosphere which must for that purpose extend to a very consider- able height above the luminous surface of the sun. We are all familiar with the beautiful appearance of those thin vapoury clouds which appear in our own atmosphere at sunset. But these solar clouds must be almost infi- nitely thinner and more unsubstantial, since even in that intense illumination they are only seen when the sun THE SUN. 87 itself is hidden ; and when it is remembered that the head of the comet of 1843 was seen at noon-day within two or three degrees of the sun by the naked eye. (44.) Then, again, as to the magnitude of these cloudy masses, it must be enormous. Some of them have pro- jected or stood out from the edge of the sun to a distance calculated at no less than forty or fifty thousand miles. They have now been observed in three great eclipses, that of 1842, 1851, and 1859; on which last occasion they were photographed in Spain by Mr De la Rue, under such circumstances as left no possibility of doubt- ing their belonging to the sun. I dwell upon this, be- cause there is another luminous appearance seen about the moon in total eclipses of the sun, which can only be referred to vapours of excessive tenuity, existing at an immense height in our own atmosphere ; and which sur- rounds the disc of the moon like a glory, or corona, as it is called. By the accounts of all who have witnessed a total eclipse of the sun, it is one of the most awful natural phenomena. An earthquake has " rolled unheed- edly away" during a battle, but an eclipse has on more than one occasion either stopped tne combat or so para- lyzed one of the parties with terror, as to give the others who were prepared for it an easy victory: and I may as well add that two very remarkable battles in ancient history, the one on the a8th May, B.C. 585, the other the i gth May, B.C. 557, which were in progress during total eclipses, have had the years and days of their occurrence thereby fixed by calculation with a certainty which be- longs to no other epochs in ancient chronology. 88 THE SUN. (45.) There is only one more point which my limits will allow me to touch upon. I will go back to my origi- nal metaphor. Our giant may be a huge giant and a strong giant, and a good-natured giant, but if he be a sluggard he is no giant worth the name. We have seen that he is a little slow to turn on his axis and roll himself round in his nest. But take him in his relation to the outer world, he is lively enough ; he "rejoices as a giant to run his course ;" and vindicates his credit as a swift runner with a vengeance ! Hitherto I have only spoken of the sun as a sun, the centre of our system ; and, as such, regarded by us as immovable. Even in this capacity he is not quite fixed. If he pulls the planets, they pull him and each other ; but such family struggles affect him but little. They amuse them, and set them dancing rather oddly ; but don't disturb him. As all the gods in the ancient mythology hung dangling from and tugging at the golden chain which linked them to the throne of Jove ; but without power to draw him from his seat : so if all the planets were in one straight line, and exerting their joint attractions, the sun, leaning a little back as it were to resist their force, would not be dis- placed by a space equal to his own radius ; and the fixed centre, or, as an engineer would call it, the centre of gravity of our system, would still lie within the sun's globe. (46.) But the sun has another and, so far as we can judge, a much vaster part in creation to perform than to sit still as the quiet patriarch of a domestic circle. He is up and active as a member of a community like THE SUN. 89 himself. The sun is not only a sun, he is a STAR also, and that but a small one in comparison with individual stars (one of which, Sirius, would make two or three hundred of him); and among these glorious compeers he moves on a path which is just beginning to become known to us ; though in what orbit, or for what purpose, will never be given to man to know. Yet we do know almost to a nicety the direction in which that path is leading ; and the rate of his travel (though this is less exactly determined). Still this rate, at the very lowest estimate, cannot be taken under four or five hundred thousand miles a day; and yet this speed, vast as it is, in the 2000 years which separate us from the observations of Hipparchus (who made the first catalogue of the stars), would not suffice to carry it (and of course our system along with it) over one sixtieth part of the distance which now separates it from the very nearest of the stars. When we travel through a diversified country, we become aware of our change of situation by the different group- ing and presentation of the objects around us. But though travelling at this amazing rate through space, successive generations of mankind witness no change in the order and arrangement of the stars ; and Hipparchus, were he to come once more among us, would recognize the old familiar forms of his constellations; and, without better means of observation than he then possessed, would be unable to detect, with certainty, any change in their appearance; though we, who are better provided in that respect, are enabled to do so. (47.) Such, then, is the scale of things with which we 9O THE SUN. become familiar when we contemplate the sun. In what has been said, it will be perceived that I have been more anxious to dwell upon facts than theories, and rather to supply the imaginations of my audience with materials for forming a just conception of the stupendous magnificence of this member of God's creation, than to puzzle them with physical and mathematical reasonings and argu- ments. NOTE ON 12. The effect of any supposed small loss of time in the transmission of the sun's attractive force on the earth across the in- tervening space, may be very easily made intelligible without going through any abstruse calculation. The pull exerted on the earth would be delivered there, not in the direction of the line joining the sun and earth at the instant of its arrival, but of that which did join them when it left the sun. Its action on the earth would therefore be oblique to their actual line of junction, or to what is called the radius vector of the orbit tending, not towards the sun, but towards a point somewhat in advance of it (i.e., lying from it in the direc- tion in space of the region towards which the earth is moving). This force then being resolved in radial and tangential directions would produce, in the former, a force directed to the sun differing by a mere infinitesimal from its direct gravity and in the latter, one always accelerating the earth in its orbit, and which, however minute, must of necessity result in a continually progressive increa.se of the major axis, and therefore of the length of the year. Supposing the transmission of gravity to be performed with the speed only of light the inclination of the line of pull to the radius vector would be 2o"'25 (the exact value of the coefficient of aberration), and the accelerating tangential force thence resulting would amount to I-ioi88th part of the sun's direct attraction, a force whose effects would become evident in a very few years to say nothing of the centuries elapsed since the first determination of the length of the year. LECTURE III. ON COMETS. ]HE subject of comets, about which I now pro- pose to say something, is one that has of late naturally drawn to it a good deal of inquiry and general interest, by reason of the un- usually magnificent spectacles of this description whicn have within the last few years been exhibited to us.* In itself it is perhaps not one of the best adapted for popular discussion and familiar explanation of this nature, because there are so many things in the history of comets unexplained, and so many wild and extravagant notions in consequence floating about in the minds of even well-informed persons, that the whole subject has rather, in the public mind, that kind of dreamy inde- finite interest that attaches to signs and wonders than any distinct, positive, practical bearing. The fact is, that, though much is certainly known about comets, there * This lecture was delivered on February 14, 1859. 92 ON COMETS. is a great deal more about which our theories are quite at fault; and, in short, that it is a subject rather cal- culated to show us the extent of our ignorance than to make us vain of our knowledge, and to cause us to ex- claim with Hamlet, " There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in our philo- sophy." This ; the sublimity of the spectacle they afford ; and the universal interest they inspire, make the appearance of a great comet an occasion for the ima- ginations of men to break loose from all restraint of reason, and luxuriate in the strangest conceptions. I have received letters about the comets of the last few years, enough to make one's hair stand on end at the absurdity of the theories they propose, and at the ignorance of the commonest laws of optics, of motion, of heat, and of general physics they betray in their writers. This is always the case whenever a great comet appears, only that in the later instances one feature of the general commotion of mind they inspire has been wanting. Thanks to the prevalence of juster notions of the con- stitution of the universe, and of the relation in which man stands to its Author; countries calling them- selves civilized appear not to have been disgraced by any of those panic terrors, or thought it necessary to propitiate Heaven by any of those superstitious ex- travagances, about which we read on several former occasions. Even at Naples, which seems to be almost the lowest point of Europe in the scale of intellec- tual and social progress, I have not heard that it was thought necessary to liquefy the blood of St Januarius, ON COMETS. 93 or to cany his bones about the streets on account of any of these later great comets. (2.) When we look through nature and observe the manifest indications of design which every point of it ex- hibits, it would be very presumptuous in us to assert that comets are of no use, and serve no purpose in our system. Hitherto, however, no one has been able to assign any single point in which we should be a bit better or worse off, materially speaking, if there were no such thing as a comet. Persons, even thinking persons, have busied themselves with conjectures: such as that they may serve for fuel for the sun (into which, however, they never fall), or that they may cause warm summers which is a mere fancy or that they may give rise to epidemics, or potato-blights, and so forth. But I need hardly say this is all wild talking, as my readers will be better able to judge when I shall have stated a few things which are known for certain about them. But there is a use, and a very important one, of a purely intellectual kind, which they have amply fulfilled ; and who shall say that it has not been designed that such should be the case 1 They have afforded some of the sublimest and most satisfactory verifications of our astronomical theories they have furnished us with a proof amounting to demonstration of the existence of a repulsive force* directed (under certain circumstances, and acting on certain forms of matter) from the sun as well as of that * See on this subject my " Results of Astronomical Observations at the Cape of Good Hope," p. 407, et sey., where the existence of such a re^ul -ivc force is clearly demonstrated. 94 ON COMETS. great and general attractive force which keeps the planets in their orbits and they have actually informed us of the weight of one of the planets which could not have been determined with any exactness if a comet had not on one occasion passed very near to it. (3.) The ancients believed comets to be much of the same nature as meteors or shooting stars either in the earth's atmosphere not far above the clouds ; or, at all events, much lower than the moon or else as a species of vapours or exhalations raised up from the earth by the sun's heat, or by some other unknown cause; but they never for a moment dreamed of their forming part and parcel of that vast system of planetary bodies cir- culating about the sun, of which in fact they had hardly any distinct notions. In ancient history, however, several very remarkable comets stand recorded. One is mentioned by the Greek philosopher Aristotle in 371 B.C., with a tail extending over a third part of the sky. Many great comets are recorded at even more ancient dates in the Chinese annals : for that strange people kept an official record of all the remarkable stars, meteors, and other celestial appearances, for more than a thou- sand years before the Christian era, and what is stranger still, that record has been handed down to us and seems dependable. A great comet was seen close to the sun 62 years before Christ, during a total eclipse and one which appeared in the year 43 B.C., soon after the murder of Julius Caesar at Rome, was seen by all the assembled people in full daylight. Such a thing, though very uncommon, is by no means singular it has hap- ON COMETS. 95 pened several times, and in one case quite recently; for the great comet of 1843 was seen at noonday quite close to the sun both in Nova Scotia and at Madrid, and be- fore sunset at the Cape of Good Hope.* Of course it is only the brightest part, or the head of a comet that can ever be so seen. The faint light of the tail has no chance of contending against broad daylight. (4.) Before the invention of telescopes the appearance of a comet was a rare occurrence, because only a small proportion of them can ever be seen by the naked eye, and of them again only a small portion are considerable enough to attract much attention but since that dis- covery it has been ascertained that they are very numer- ous hardly a year passes without one ; and very often two, three, and in one year, 1846, no less than eight were observed. Taking only two a year on an average as visible if looked for in a telescope, and considering that at least as many must occur in such situations that we could not expect to see them in the 6000 years of re- corded history there must have been between twenty and thirty thousand comets, great and small. A great comet, however, hardly occurs on an average oftener than once in fifteen or twenty years, or even yet more rarely; * At Halifax, in the first mentioned colony, my informant saw a number of persons natives of the place hale and sturdy men, gathered in a group and gazing full on the sun, which, when he at- tempted to do, dazzled and almost blinded him. He was compelled to desist, and inquire what they were looking at, and how they could do so without being blinded. "Blinded !" was the reply " Lord bless you, it does not hurt us; what, can't you see it that thing up by the sun?" 96 ON COMETS. though, as sometimes happens in matters of pure acci- dent and in the run of chances, it is not very unfrequent (and we have lately seen it remarkably exemplified) for two or even three very great comets to follow each other in rapid succession. Thus the great comet of 1680 was followed in 1682 by two other very conspicuous ones, of which we shall have more to say presently. (5.) When a comet is first discovered in a telescope it is for the most part seen only as a small, faint, round, or oval patch of foggy, or, as it is called, nebulous light, somewhat brighter in the middle. By degrees it grows larger and brighter, and at the same time more oval, and at length begins to throw out a " tail" that is to say a streak of light extending always in a direction/TWtf the sun, or in the con- tinuation of a line supposed to be drawn from the place of the sun below the horizon to the head of the comet above it. As time goes on, night after night the tail grows longer and brighter, the "head" or nebulous mass from which the tail seems to spring also increases, and within it begins to be seen what is called a "nucleus" or kernel, a sort of rounded, misty lump of light dying off rapidly into a haziness called the " coma " or hair. Within this, but often a good deal out of the centre, there is seen with a good telescope and a high magnifying power a very small spark or pellet of light which may or may not be the solid body of the comet, and which is the real nucleus. What in an indifferent telescope looks like a rather large puffy ball, more or less oval, is certainly not a solid substance. All the while the comet is getting every evening nearer and nearer to the place of the sun, ON COMETS. 97 and is therefore seen for a shorter time after sunset or before sunrise, as the case may be (for quite as many comets are seen in the morning before sunrise as in the evening after sunset). At last it approaches so near the sun as to rise or set very nearly at the same time, and so ceases to be seen except it should be so very bright and so great a comet as to be visible in presence of the sun. (6.) When this has taken place, however, the comet is by no means to be considered as dead and buried. After a time it reappears, having passed by the sun, or perhaps before or behind it, and got so far away on the other side as to rise before the sun or set after him. If it first appeared after sunset in the west, it will now reappear in the east before sunrise. And what is very remarkable, its shape and size are usually totally different after its reappearance from what they were before its disappeai- ance. Some, indeed, never reappear at all. The path they pursue carries them into situations where they could not be seen by the same spectators who saw them before. Others like those which appeared in 1858 and 1861, without altogether disappearing as if swallowed up by the sun after attaining a certain maximum or climax of splendour and size die away, and at the same time move southward, and are seen, as that of 1858 was (on the nth of October for the first time), in the southern hemi- sphere, the faded remnants of a brighter and more glori- ous existence of which we here witnessed the grandest display. And on the other hand we here receive as it were many comets from the southern sky, whose greatest display the inhabitants of the southern parts of the earth 98 ON COMETS. only have witnessed. It also very often happens that a comet, which before its disappearance in the sun's rays was but a feeble and insignificant object, reappears mag- nified and glorified, throwing out an immense tail and exhibiting every symptom of violent excitement, as if set on fire by a near approach to the source of light and heat. Such was the case with the great comet of 1680 and that of 1843, both of which, as I shall presently take occasion to explain, really did approach extremely near to the body of the sun, and must have undergone a very violent heat Other comets, furnished with beautiful and conspicuous tails before their immersion in the sun's rays, at their reappearance are seen stripped of that ap- pendage, and altogether so very different that, but for a knowledge of their courses, it would be quite impossible to identify them as the same bodies. This was the case with the beautiful comet of 1835-6, one of the most re- markable comets in history. Some, on the other hand, which have escaped notice altogether in their approach to the sun burst upon us at once in the plenitude of their splendour, quite unexpectedly, as did that of the year 1861. (7.) I come now to speak of the paths described by comets in the sky among the stars (which I need hardly ob- serve keep always the same relative situations one among the other, and stand as landmarks, among which comets, planets, the moon and the sun pursue, or seem to us to pursue, their destined courses). Now we all know that the sun, moon, and planets, keep to certain high roads, like beaten tracks in the sky, from which they never deviate ON COMETS. 99 beyond definite and narrow limits assignable by calcula- tion. With comets it is far otherwise. They are wild wanderers, and care nothing for beaten tracks. A comet is just as likely to appear in any one region of the starry heavens as in any other. They are no respecters of boundaries. The first time a comet is seen, no one can tell where it may next day be. The next observation still leaves a great uncertainty as to its future course. The third nails it. After three good observations, care- fully made, of its place, we can thence foretell where it will go. Meanwhile, such is the variety of which their paths are susceptible, that for a very long time theii movements were considered to be altogether capricious and unaccountable creatures of chance governed by no laws. Now the case is different. Most persons will remember that the comet of 1858 passed on the 5th of October of that year close to a very brilliant star, Arc- turus, which shone through its tail at a very little distance from its root or outspring from the head. Well ! within a very short time from the first appearance of that comet, while yet it was but a faint object, it was known to cal- culating persons that it wo uld pass over Arcturus the day the hour nay, almost the minute when the nucleus of the comet would be closest to the star were predicted and the prediction was exactly verified. How this could happen I must now proceed to explain ; but before I do so, I must premise that my hearers are not to be startled if I use some words that are not familiar to many of them, and ask for a little more of their attention than if I were merely telling some amusing story. What I am ON COMETS. going to say will be already well known to a portion of them, but will be quite new to many, and I will try to put it in such a way as shall not only be clearly intel- ligible, but shall stick by them, and become part and parcel of their minds and thoughts henceforward and I am mistaken if many of this class of hearers (provided they will give me the attention the thing requires) do not rise from the perusal of this brief statement with much larger and higher conceptions of the magnificent system we belong to than they commenced it with. (8.) The sun, as we all know, or may have heard, stands immovable, or nearly immovable, in the centre of our system, and all the planets, including the earth, circulate or revolve round it, each in its own time and at its own proper distance. These distances, for each planet, stand to each other in relations of proportional magnitude, which have become, by a long course of astronomical observation and calculations, known to us with extreme exactness, so that if the exact distance of any one of the planets from the sun, or the exact interval between any two of their orbits, can anyhow be ascertained in miles, yards, or feet, the dimensions of all the rest in similar units of measure may thence be derived. Supposing, for instance, we knew exactly the interval between the orbits of the earth and Mars, then if we would know the respective distances of the several planets in their order from the sun, it would only be necessary to multiply that interval, in the case of Mercury, by the decimal fraction 07392; in that of Venus by i'38i2; of the Earth by 1-9095; of Mars by 2*9095; of Jupiter by ON COMETS. IOI 9-9349 j of Saturn by 18-2146 ; of Uranus by 36*6293 ; and of Neptune, the most distant of the known planets, by 57-3551-* Now the interval between the earth's orbit and that of Mars (or the distance between that planet and the earth when they approach nearest) has quite recently been ascertained by a concerted system of observation, made during the past year, in which the astronomers in all the principal observatories of the globe have borne a part, and of which the final result has only within these few weeks become known. From these observations, so far as they have as yet been communicated and reduced, f it has been concluded that the interval in question is 6071 diameters of the earth, and as we know to a great nicety, by actual measurement of the earth's circum- ference, that its diameter is 7912^ miles, we are enabled at once to reduce the distance so obtained into miles (which gives 48,036,200 miles), and thence, as above in- dicated, to derive the earth's distance from the sun, which comes out 91,718,000, or about 92 millions of miles; and in the same way we may obtain the numerical dimensions in miles of the orbits of all the other planets, as also the sun's actual diameter, which appears to be 852,600 miles. (9.) Such of our readers as may take the trouble to com- pare the distances and dimensions here set down with * We consider in this and what follows, the orbits as circles, which is quite sufficient for purposes of illustration. t Some time will probably elapse before our whole series can be collected and finally reduced. IO2 ON COMETS. those stated in my paper on the sun in the last lecture, will not fail to observe that they are materially smaller by one thirtieth part of their respective amounts. The numbers there stated are in accordance with the state of our knowledge accepted at the time when that lecture was delivered, which rested for its basis on observa- tions made upon Venus at the time of her transit across the sun's disc in the year 1769 observations by which the nearest distance of the orbits of Venus and the earth was concluded in terms of the earth's diameter, on the same general principle, though by a somewhat more re- fined and circuitous process, as that from which the least distance of Mars has just now been derived. As the circumstances of this earlier determination (delicacy of instruments and means of observation alone excepted) were much more favourable to exactness, astronomers would have hesitated in accepting the more recent con- clusion in preference to the former, were it not for the support and corroboration it derives from another deter- mination, also quite recent (though somewhat prior in point of date), depending on a direct measurement of the velocity of light by a peculiarly ingenious and delicate process invented and executed by M. Foucault To ex- plain the nature of this process here would lead me too far away from the immediate object of this discourse, from which, indeed, the whole of what is above said on the distance of the sun and planets would be justly con- sidered as a digression were it not in some sort obliga- tory on every one to account for a departure from numerical statements once made. Suffice it therefore ON COMETS. 103 to say that the velocity of light so concluded was found to be somewhat less (and that by about one 3oth part) of that which had been hitherto received (192,000 miles per second) and which was concluded from the observed fact of its traversing the diameter of the earth's orbit in i6 m - 26 sec - of time, and very considerably less than that before obtained by M. Fizeau, with a less perfect appa- ratus, and a less delicate and refined system of procedure. Now it will not fail to be remarked, that the time (i6 m - 26 sec -) remaining unaltered, and the velocity diminished by one 3oth, the distance traversed (the diameter of the orbit) in that time will also be diminished by the same aliquot fraction, so that there is a coincidence between the two corrections of the sun's distance, which, coming simultaneously, from such very different sources r cannot but lead to their acceptance, at least provisionally, and until the recurrence of that grand phaenomenon, the transit of Venus, which will take place in the year 1874, shall put an end to all uncertainty on the subject of the true numerical dimensions of our system. (10.) Bearing now these dimensions in mind, let us construct in imagination a figure consisting of concentric circles, to represent the orbits of the planets. Taking the largest, that of Neptune, as 30 feet in diameter, then will that of Uranus measure a little more than 19 feet across, of Saturn somewhere less than 10, of Jupiter rather more than 5, of Mars about 18 inches, and of the earth a foot, while the enormous body of the sun will stand repre- sented in the centre of all by a pellet of very little more than one-ninth of an inch in diameter the orbits of IO4 ON COMETS. Mercury and Venus by circles of 4^ and 9 inches respec- tively that of the moon above the earth by one isth of an inch, and the globe of the earth itself by a dot barely the thousandth part of an inch in size. (i i.) Strictly speaking, the orbits are not circles they are slightly oval, or, as it is called, elliptic in form, and the sun does not occupy their common centre, but what is called the focus of each ; that is to say, one of the two pins round which an ellipse may be described by carry- ing a pencil round them confined by a looped string encircling them both. The planetary orbits, moreover, all lie nearly in one plane, or very slightly inclined to that in which the earth performs its annual revolution, which is called the plane of the ecliptic the angle at which the plane of each orbit meets and cuts this, being called its inclination to the ecliptic. They all circulate the same way round the sun, and the farther they are from the sun the slower they move so that while the earth goes round it in 365 days, Mercury occupies only 88 in its revolution, while Neptune requires no less than 1 68 years to complete one of his circuits. (12.) When we come to the comets, however, we find a very different state of things. A comet, it is true, moves round the sun as his centre of motion : not, however, in a circle, or any approach to a circle, but (with a very few, and those highly remarkable exceptions) in an im- mensely elongated, or, as it is termed, a very eccentric ellipse. In consequence, the nearest distances to which they approach the sun bear almost universally an exceed- ingly small proportion to those they attain when most ON COMETS. 105 remote, that is to say, at the two extremities of their elliptic orbits, or what are termed their perihelion and aphelion. By far the great majority approach it at their perihelion near enough to arrive within the earth's orbit very many within that of Venus, or even of Mercury and not a few attain an extreme proximity to the actual surface of the sun, while on the other hand only four or five among the vast number of recorded comets (those of 1747, 1826, 1835, 1847) have failed to arrive within twice the earth's distance, or within the orbits of those small planets called asteroids ; and one only has had a perihelion distance exceeding four times the earth's distance (that of 1729), still falling short of the orbit of Jupiter. Probably, however, a comet, which should always remain outside of the latter planet's orbit, would have no chance of ever being seen by us. As to the extreme distances to which they recede from the sun, it is only in comparatively few instances that it can be even estimated their ellipses being in general so elongated as to be undistinguishable from that extreme and limit- ing form which is called a parabola, which never returns into itself at all. The form of this curve is that which a stone thrown into the air describes, or which a jet of water thrown up obliquely by a smooth round pipe assumes in the air, being very much curved or bent about the point which is called the vertex, and less and less so in the ascending and descending branches. (13.) Comets, we have said, are wild wanderers, and despise beaten tracks. No way confined, as the planets are, to move in planes nearly coincident with the ecliptic, 106 ON COMETS. they cut across it at every possible angle, and, as nearly as can be ascertained (with exception of one small class of comets), quite indifferently as to the degree of their inclination, or to the direction of the longer axes or long- est dimensions of their orbits in space ; so that there is no region of space, however situated either in direction or distance from the sun, which a comet may not visit. Neither do they conform to that other universal planet- ary rule of circulation round the sun in one direction. Retrograde comets, or those whose motion is opposite to that of the planets, are as common as direct ones, or those which conform to the planetary rule. Here again, however, there is a small class in which a tendency to conformity is exhibited, co-extensive with that above noticed, which affects a certain proximity to the ecliptic. But of this we shall have occasion to speak more at large. (14.) It is only when all the particulars which determine geometrically the situation and the form of the orbit of a comet, its nearest distance from the sun, and the direction in which it is moving, or what are called the elements of its orbit, that it can be ascertained whether it has ever been seen before, and whether we are to expect ever to see it again ; and that its future course, while it remains invisible, can be predicted with cer- tainty. These elements are technically called 1. Tho, perihelion distance, or nearest approach to the sun. 2. The eccentricity of its ellipse, or whether the orbit be sensibly a parabola. ON COMETS. IO7 3. The inclination of its plane to the ecliptic. 4. The longitude of its node, or the direction of the line in which its plane intersects the ecliptic, which is called the line of its nodes. 5. The longitude of its perihelion, or, which comes to the same thing, the angle which the axis of the orbit makes with the line of nodes. 6. The exact moment when the comet passed through \\.s perihelion, or was nearest to the sun. 7. The direction of its motion (direct or retro- grade). (15.) It is natural to ask how all these particulars ever can be known ; and to this the answer is By the same system of observation and calculation combined, by which we have come to know the form and dimensions of the orbits of the planets, their times of revolution round the sun, and their situation in space. (16.) I believe it was Tycho Brahe, a celebrated Danish astronomer, who first rose to the conception that comets are beyond the moon, and not mere exhalations. The appearance of a great comet in 1577 set him thinking about it, and he was led by his observations and reason- ings on them to a certain knowledge of the fact of its being much more remote than our own satellite ; and he was therefore led to conjecture that the motions of comets had reference rather to the sun as their centre than the earth. The elliptic form of the planetary orbits was not then known, and Tycho accordingly supposed that comets moved about the sun in perfect circles. Borelli, a Neapolitan mathematician, suggested the idea IO8 ON COMETS. of a long ellipse or parabola as the possible form of a cornet's orbit ; and Dorfel, a German astronomer in 1 68 1, upon a careful consideration of all the observa- tions of the great comet of 1680, came to the positive conclusion that that comet did really move in a parabolic orbit with the sun in its focus. This was an immense step ; but neither Dorfel nor any one else could at that time give any account of the reason why this should be the case, or in what manner the comet was made to con- form its sweep through space in so singular a way to the sun. (17.) The wonderful discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton made all this clear. He first showed that the sun controls the movements of these wanderers by the very same force acting according to the very same law which retains the planets in their paths that marvellous law of gravita- tion the same power which draws a stone thrown from the hand back to the earth (in a parabolic curve) which keeps the moon from flying off, and holds her to us as a companion which keeps the planets in their circles, or rather ellipses, about the sun and which we now know holds together several of the stars in couples, circulating one about the other. (18.) The great comet of 1680, which occurred while Newton was brooding over these grand ideas which broke upon the world like the dawn of a new day in his " Principia," afforded him a beautiful occasion to test the truth of his gravitation theory by the most extreme case which could be proposed. The planets were tame and gentle things to deal with. A little tightening of ON COMETS. log the rein here and a little relaxation there, as they ca- reered round and round, would suffice perhaps to keep them regular, and guide them in their graceful and smooth evolutions. But here we had a stranger from afar from out beyond the extremest limits of our sys- tem dashing in, scorning all their conventions, cutting across all their orbits, and rushing like some wild infu- riated thing close up to the central sun, and steering short round it in a sharp and violent curve with a speed (for such it was) of 1,200,000 miles an hour at the turning point, and then going off as if curbed by the guidance of a firm and steady leading rein, held by a powerful hand, in a path exactly similar to that of its arrival, with perfect regularity and beautiful precision ; in conformity to a rule which required not the smallest alteration in its wording to make it applicable to such a case. If anything could carry conviction to men's minds of the truth of a theory, it was this. And it did so. I believe that Newton's explanation of the motions of comets, so exemplified, was that which stamped his discoveries in the minds of men with the impress of reality beyond all other things. (19.) This comet was perhaps the most magnificent ever seen. It appeared from November 1680 to March 1681. In its approach to the sun it was not very bright, but began to throw out a tail when about as far from the sun as the earth. It passed its perihelion on December 8 and when nearest was only one-sixth part of the sun's diameter from his surface one fifty-fourth part of an inch on the conventional scale of our imaginary figure, and at 110 ON COMETS. that moment had the astonishing speed I have just men- tioned. Now observe one thing. The distance from the sun's centre was about one i6oth part of our distance from it. All the heat we enjoy on this earth comes from the sun. Imagine the heat we should have to endure if the sun were to approach us or we the sun to Trrth part of its present distance. It would not be merely as if 1 60 suns were shining on us all at once, but 160 times 1 60, according to a rule which is well known to all who are conversant with such matters. Now that is 25,600. Only imagine a glare 25,600 times fiercer than that of an equatorial sunshine at noonday with the sun vertical. And again, only conceive a light 25,600 times more glaring than the glare of such a noonday! In such a heat there is no solid substance we know of which would not run like water boil and be converted into smoke or vapour. No wonder it gave evidence of vio- lent excitement coming from the cold region outside the planetary system, torpid and icebound ; already when arrived even in our temperate region it began to show signs of internal activity the head had begun to develop and the tail to elongate till the comet was for a time lost sight of. No human eye beheld the wondrous spectacle it must have offered on the 8th December. Only four days afterwards, however, it was seen : and its tail, whose direction was reversed and which (observe) could not possibly be the same tail it had before (for it is not to be conceived as a stick brandished round, or a flaming sword, but fresh matter continually streaming forth), its tail I say had already lengthened to an extent of about ON COMETS. 90 millions of miles, so that it must have been shot out with immense force in a direction from the sun, a force far greater than that with which the sun acted on and con- trolled the head of the comet itself, which, as the reader will have observed, took from November 10 to December 8, or 28 days, to fall to the sun from the same distance, and that with all the velocity it had on November 10 to start with. (20.) All this is very mysterious. We shall never perhaps quite understand it, but the mystery will be at all events a little diminished when we shall have described some of the things which are seen to be going on in the heads of comets under the excitement of the sun's action, and when calming and quieting down afterwards. At pre- oent, however, we must get on with another part of our subject. (21.) Only two years after this appeared another bril- liant comet, and our countryman, Edmund Halley, fol- lowing Newton's example and employing his system of calculation, computed its orbit, assuming (which simpli- fies the calculation very much) that orbit to be a para- bola. He found its path to be very different from that of Newton's comet. Instead of nearly grazing the sur- face of the sun, its nearest approach to it was about 55 millions of miles, or about half-way between the orbits of Mercury and Venus. The plane of its motion, too, was much less inclined to that of the planets' orbit or the ecliptic viz., about 17!, and its motion was not direct, as Newton's was, but retrograde. (22.) Halley was encouraged by the good agreement of ON COMETS. his calculations with the observed places of this comet to collect observations of former comets, and endea- vour to make out their paths, or, as we now express it, to determine the elements of their orbits. With in- credible labour he calculated the orbits of twenty-four remarkable comets, and among them he found two whose " elements " agreed in a remarkable manner with those of his first comet both great comets, viz., one observed by Appian in 1531, and one by Kepler in 1607, and he noticed also this fact, this remarkable ap- proximate coincidence from 1531 to 1607 is 76 years, and from 1607 to 1682 75 years. This led him to sus- pect that all three were one and the same comet, return- ing periodically; and guided by this idea he was led to examine the records of history for comets of earlier date. Among them, three turned up in the years 1305, 1380, 1456 and when all these years are arranged in a series, you see that the intervals are alternately 75 and 76 years. This confirmed him in his impression of its peri- odical return ; and emboldened him to predict its return about the end of 1758 or beginning of 1759. You will observe that he allowed more than an average length of the period (77 years) for the fulfilment of his prediction. He had a reason for this. He ascertained that in com- ing back it would pass near the planet Jupiter, which is a large and massive planet, and Newton's discoveries had already taught him to contemplate the possibility of some disturbance of its motion from the attraction of such a body, and even enabled him to perceive that it would act to retard the return or prolong the period. Such ON COMETS. disturbances do really exist, and have often very con- siderable effects on the return of comets. This very comet, in the table of its returns set down in the note below,* offers some striking examples. There occurs, for instance, 1378 A.D. and not 1380 set down for one of the epochs of its appearance, with 78 years interval between that and 1456. The fact is that Halley was mistaken in supposing either the comet of 1305 or that of 1380 to be the same with that in question. That comet really ap- nearedin 1378, but that fact Halley had no means of know- ing. It has very lately come to light on searching the Chinese annals. And the same annals have informed us of no less than six other still more ancient appearances of this selfsame comet, the earliest in the nth year be- fore our Saviour. And this, it must be allowed, greatly tends to increase our confidence in those venerable re- cords of Chinese history. All this apparent irregu- larity is owing to the action mainly of Jupiter, which is a general disturber of comets, and gives a vast deal of trouble to calculators, as I shall soon explain; and Saturn is not without a finger in the pie. (23.) This prediction of Halley's, as the time for its accomplishment drew near, created a great sensation all the astronomers furbished up their telescopes, and all the mathematicians set to work to calculate. The mutual actions of the planets in that long interval had been well studied, and it was clearly ascertained that * A.D. 451, July 3 ; 760, June II ; 1378, Nov. 8 ; 1456, Tune 8 : 1531, Aug. 24; 1607, Oct. 26; 1682, Sept 14; 1759, March 12 ; 1835, Nov. 15. U 114 ON COMETS. Halley was right in his conjecture about Jupiter, and that in fact the return of the comet would be delayed by the attraction of that planet 518 days, and by that of Saturn 100 more, and that it would make its next closest approach to the sun within a month one way or another of the i3th of April 1759. (24.) All the astronomers of Europe were looking out for it, eager to seize it on its first coming within the range of human vision. They were all disappointed of their prize. It was carried off by a Saxon farmer of the name of Palitzch, an astronomer of Nature's own creating, who was always watching the heavens, without tele- scopes, without knowledge, simply from the profound interest their aspect inspired him with. He it was who first caught sight of it, on the i3th December 1758. It was taken up by others and regularly observed. It passed its perihelion on the i3th of March, just within the limit of possible uncertainty the mathematicians had allowed for their calculations. (25.) This was certainly a very great and signal triumph. It was repeated, with every circumstance that could make it decisive or give it notoriety, in the year 1835, the epoch of the next appearance of " Halley's Comet." The calculation of the planetary perturbations (as the disturbances they cause in each other's motions are called) had then been brought to great perfection. The passage through the perihelion was predicted by M. Pontecoulant to take place on the i2th November, and by Rosenberger between the nth and i6th. In point of fact, it happened on the isth. And this time, ON COMETS. 115 too, the astronomers were not beaten by the farmers. Their telescopes were from day to day pointed right on the spot where it would be sure to appear which was advertised all over the world in the almanacs; and it was caught at the earliest possible moment, and pursued till it faded away into a dim mist. (26.) When lost to European astronomers (for, like those of 1858 and 1861, it ran southwards), Mr Maclear and myself received it in the southern hemisphere ; and it was fortunate we did so; for, extraordinary as were the appearances it presented on its approach to the sun, they were if possible surpassed by those it exhibited after- wards ; and the whole series of its phaenomena has given us more insight into the interior (Economy of a comet and the forces developed in it by the sun's action, than any- thing before or since. (27.) When first it was seen, it presented the usual aspect of a round misty spot, and by degrees threw out a tail, which was never very long or brilliant, and which to the naked eye or in a low-magnifying telescope appeared like a narrow, straight streak of light, terminating in a bright head; which in a telescope of small po\ver ap- peared capped with a kind of crescent; but in one of great power exhibited the appearance of jets, as it were, of flame, or rather of luminous smoke, like a gas fan- light. These varied from day to day, as if wavering backwards and forwards, and as if they were thrown out of particular parts of the internal nucleus or kernel, which shifted round, or to and fro, by their recoil, like a squib not held fast. The bright smoke of these jets, how- Il6 ON COMETS. ever, never seemed to be able to get far out towards the sun, but always to be driven back and forced into the tail, as if by the action of a violent wind setting against them, always from the sun, so as to make it clear that this tail is neither more nor less than the accumulation of this sort of luminous vapour darted off in the first instance TOWARDS the sun, as if it were something raised up, and, as it were, exploded by the sun's heat, out of the kernel, and then immediately and forcibly turned back and repelled from the sun. (28.) As this comet approached the sun, its tail, far from increasing, diminished ; and between the middle of November and the 2ist of January, strange to say, both head (that is coma) and tail were altogether destroyed, or at least rendered invisible. On the 2 ist of January the comet was actually seen like a small star without any tail or any haziness, and was only known not to be a star by being exactly in its calculated place, and by its not being there next night After that its head seemed to form again round this star, and grew rapidly and visibly from night to night, putting on appearances which could not be clearly apprehended without elaborate figures. This growth of the comet was so very rapid, that in the interval of 1 7 days from the time I first saw it as a round body its real bulk had increased to 74 times the size it then had and at the same rate it continued to swell out, not, however, preserving a round form, but growing longer in proportion to its breadth as if it intended to develop a new tail. But this it never did the dilatation or swelling out continued, and at one time it had exactly ON COMETS. 117 the appearance of a ground glass lamp the light always becoming fainter and fainter, till it at last seemed to pass away from view from mere faintness. All this while, however, there was a sort of smaller and much brighter interior comet visible, with a tail-like appendage, which seemed to be as it were a conducting channel by which the matter of the newly-forming head was gradually re- treating back into the centre. (29.) The discovery of the periodical return of Halley's comets forms an epoch in the history of their bodies. Since that time a great many more have been ascer- tained to return at regular intervals. I will mention some of the most remarkable cases of this kind. (30.) In 1770 a comet appeared which proved rebellious to the then adopted system of calculation, which set out with assuming the orbit to be a parabola. It very soon appeared, by the calculations of M. Lexell, that the real orbit was an ellipse, and that not a very eccentric one. In fact, all the observations were perfectly consistent with an ellipse nearly coincident with the plane of the earth's orbit, of such dimensions as that the extreme excursion from the sun would carry it over a little beyond the orbit of Jupiter, and its nearest approach would bring it within that of Venus the time of its revolution being 5^ years. Here was quite a new fact. All other comets then known had run out to limits far beyond our system since even Halley's, with its period of 76 years at its greatest distance from the sun, passed very far beyond the orbit of Saturn, the most distant planet then known, and in fact beyond the two since discovered, Uranus and Il8 ON COMETS. Neptune. But here we seemed to have quite a sort of tame comet keeping within bounds, and within call. Of course its return was watched for with eagerness, but alas ! it never made its appearance again. At its next return in 1776 this was well accounted for, as owing to the relative situations of the earth, sun, and comet, it could not have been visible; but at the next, in 1781, the earth was favourably situated, since 5^ years would place the sun in the opposite part of its orbit ; but 1 1 years in the same, and the calculators for a time were puzzled. The solution of the enigma was a very strange one. The poor comet had got bewildered. It had plunged headlong into the immediate sphere of Jupiter's attraction had intruded, an uninvited guest, into his family circle actually nearer to him than his fourth satellite, and into a situation where Jupiter's attraction for it was two hundred times that of the sun. Of course its course was for a time commanded entirely by this new centre of motion, and the comet was completely diverted from its former orbit. (31.) So far all was clear enough. But people began to ask how, with so short a period, and being a tolerably large comet, it had never been seen before ] Here again Lexell called Jupiter to the rescue. As he had taken away, so it turned out he had given. Jupiter, it will be borne in mind, comes round to the same point of his orbit in ii years and 10 months; two of the comet's re- volutions would occupy n years and 3 months, so that tracing back the comet two revolutions in its ellipse, and Jupiter rather less than one in his circle from the place ON COMETS. 119 of their final rencontre, which took place in 1779, it is clear they could not have been far asunder in 1767, 3 years before it became visible j and in fact, on executing the calculations necessary, it was clearly proved that before 1767 this unhappy comet had been revolving in a totally different orbit of much greater dimensions, and was actually siezed upon then and there by Jupiter, flung as it were inwards and then after making two visits to the sun, again seized on, and thrown off into space, into an orbit of 20 years' period, where perhaps it may be quietly circulating to this day. Jupiter, in fact, is a regular stumbling-block in the way of comets. (32.) This is a strange history but it proved a very instructive one. The comet passed, as I have said, through the system of Jupiter's satellites. Now the motions of these bodies have been studied with a degree of care and precision quite remarkable by reason of their furnishing one of the means for ascertaining the longi- tudes of places. And if the comet had been a heavy massive body, its attraction must have produced some sensible disturbance in their motions. But no, not a trace of anything of the kind was detected. One and all of them pursued their courses with the very same precision and regularity as if nothing had happened. The conclusion is irresistible. That comet at least had no sensible weight or mass it was a mere bunch of vapours. (33.) Another very remarkable periodical comet is that of Encke, which makes its circuit about the sun m 1200 days, or about 3 years and 4 months, in the same ON COMETS. direction as the planets. It is but a small one, being seldom visible without a telescope. Its orbit was first computed on its appearance in 1795 (when it was dis- covered by Miss C. Herschel), and again in 1805 and 1819. Upon this last occasion M. Encke, an eminent computist, found that its motion could not be explained without supposing it to move in an ellipse of the last period I have mentioned and on searching back into the records of comets he found those two I have just named, which agreed perfectly, and proved to have been really the same. (34.) Since that time it has been re-observed on every subsequent revolution in '22, '25, '29, '32, '35, '38, '42, '45, '48, '5 1, '55, and is always announced in the almanacs as a regular member of our system. Its nearest approach to the sun brings it just within the orbit of Mercury, and on one occasion that planet happened to be so very near it on its arrival, that it produced a pretty considerable disturbance of the comet. But here, too, as in the case of Lexell's comet, not the smallest perceptible effect was produced by the comet on the planet; and thus two valuable pieces of information were gained. First; As- tronomers were enabled to estimate the mass or weight of that small planet better than by any other means ; and secondly; It was proved that this comet also has no per- ceptible weight and is also a mere puff of vapour, or something as unsubstantial (35.) There is another strange fact which this comet has revealed. Its successive revolutions are each a little shorter than the last a small fraction of a day, it is true, ON COMETS. 121 but still unquestionably made out. This has been held to prove that the comet is by very slow degrees approaching the sun, and will at last fall into it as if it moved in a space not quite empty, and were in some very slight degree resisted in its motion. I cannot quite reconcile myself to this opinion, and I think I have perceived another explanation of the fact, which I have given else- where ; but to state this would lead me too far, and I must now go on to relate one of the strangest and most uncouth facts of this strange cometic history. (36.) On the 27th February 1826, Professor Biela, an Austrian astronomer of Josephstadt, discovered a small comet. When its motions were carefully studied it was found by M. Clausen, another of those indefatigable German computists, that it revolved in an elliptic orbit in a period of 6 years and 8 months. On looking back into the list of comets, it proved to be identical with comets that had been observed in 1772, 1805, and perhaps in 1818. Its return was accordingly predicted, and the prediction verified with the most striking exact- ness. And this went on regularly till its appearance (also predicted) in 1846. In that year it was observed as usual, and all seemed to be going on quietly and com- fortably, when behold ! suddenly on the i3th of January it split into two distinct comets! each with a head and coma and a little nucleus of its own. There is some little contradiction about the exact date. Lieutenant Maury, of the United States Observatory of Washington, reported officially on the i$th having seen it double on the , but Professor Wichmann, who saw it double on the ON COMETS. , avers that he had a good view of it on the and remarked nothing particular in its appearance. Be that as it may, the comet from a single became a double one. What domestic troubles caused the secession it is impossible to conjecture, but the two receded farther and farther from each other up to a certain moderate distance, with some degree of mutual communication and a very odd interchange of light one day one head being brighter and another the other till they seem to have agreed finally to part company. The oddest part of the story, however, is yet to come. The year 1852 brought round the time for their reappearance, and behold ! there they both were, at about the same distance from each other, and both visible in one telescope. (37.) The orbit of this comet very nearly indeed inter- sects that of the earth on the place which the earth oc- cupies on the 3oth of November. If ever the earth is to be swallowed up by a comet, or to swallow up one, it will be on or about that day of the year. In the year 1832 we missed it by a month. The head of the comet en- veloped that point of our orbit, but this happened on the 2Qth of October, so that we escaped that time. Had a meeting taken place, from what we know of comets, it is most probable that no harm would have happened, and that nobody would have known anything about it.* * It would appear that we are happily relieved from the dread of such a collision. It is now (Feb. 1866) over duel Its orbit has been recomputed and an ephemeris calculated. Astronomers have been eagerly looking out for its reappearance for the last two months, when, according to all former experience, it ought to have ON COMETS. 123 (38.) The number of comets whose periodical return has been calculated is pretty considerable. Altogether about 36 ; and of these there are 5 which revolve in periods of from 70 to 80 years, and several of the rest in short periods from 3 to 7 years ; and it is a very remark- able feature in their history that all the comets of short period, and three out of the five of those of the larger ones specified, revolve in the same direction round the sun as the planets, and have their orbits inclined at no very large angles to the ecliptic. (39.) Of comets not periodical, I have already men- tioned that most remarkable one of 1680, but several others deserve special notice. That of 1744 was a truly wonderful object. It is described, and has been depicted, with six tails spread out like an immense fan extending 30 from the head which is fully the extent of the tail of the comet of 1858; and the appearance of its head when viewed through a telescope exhibited the same sort of jets of luminous smoke, the same curved envelopes and arches as I have already described, showing the same kind of excitement by the sun's heat, and the same action driving the vapour back into the tail. (40.) The comet of 1843 was still more remarkable. Many of my hearers, I dare say, remember its immense been conspicuously visible but without success! giving rise to the strangest theories. At all events it seems to have fairly disappeared, and that without any such excuse as in the case of Lexell's, the pre- ponderant attraction of some great planet. Can it have come into contact or exceedingly close approach to some asteroid as yet undis- covered ; or, peradventure, plunged into and got bewildered among the ring of meteorolites, which astronomers more than suspect ? 124 ON COMETS. tail, which stretched half-way across the sky after sunset in March of that year. But its head, as we here saw it, was not worthy such a tail Farther south, however, it was seen in great splendour. I possess a picture by Mr Piazzi Smythe, Astronomer-Royal of Edinburgh, of its appearance at the Cape of Good Hope, which represents it with an immensely long, brilliant, but very slender and forked tail. Of all the comets on record, that approached nearest the sun indeed, it was at first supposed that it had actually grazed the sun's surface, but it proved to have just missed by an interval of not more than 80,000 miles about a third of the distance of the moon from the earth, which (in such a matter) is a very close shave indeed to get clear off. There seems very considerable reason to believe that this comet has figured as a great comet on many occasions in history, and especially in the year 1668, when just such a comet, with the same remarkable peculiarity, of a comparatively feeble head and an immense train, was seen at the same season of the year, and in the very same situation among the stars. Thirty-five years has been assigned with considerable probability as its period of return, but it cannot be re- garded as quite certain. (It will of course be understood that the return of a great comet to the neighbourhood of the sun by no means implies that it should be a con- spicuous one, as seen from the earth. The phase of its greatest development may be, and is, indeed, more likely than not to be, ill-timed, as regards the relative situations of the earth and sun, for its exhibition as a great celes- tial phenomenon.) ON COMETS. 125 (41.) Another great comet which has assumed a sort of historical and political importance is that which ap- peared in A.D. 1556. According to the account of Gemma, it would not seem to have been a very large one, as he assigns to it a tail of only four degrees long. Its head, however, equalled Jupiter in brightness, and in size was estimated at about one-third or one-half of the diameter of the moon. It appeared about the end of February, and on the i6th of March is described by Ripamonte as a really terrific object. Terrific indeed it might well have been to the mind of a prince prepared by the most abject superstition to receive its appearance as a warning of approaching death, and as specially sent, whether in anger or in mercy, to detach his thoughts from earthly things, and fix them on his eternal inter- ests. Such was its effect on the Emperor Charles V., whose abdication of the imperial throne is distinctly ascribed by many historians to this cause, and whose words on the occasion of his first beholding it have even been recorded "His ergo indiciis me meafata vacant!" the language and the metrical form of which exclamation afford no ground for disputing its authenticity, when the habits and education of those times are fairly considered. This comet has been supposed to be periodical, and to return in 291 years, on the ground of the prior appear- ance of great comets in the years 975 and 1264 (at in- tervals, that is, of 289 and 292 years respectively), and the general agreement of their orbits, so far as could be 126 ON COMETS. made out from the imperfect records we possess of their courses, with that of the comet in question. The next return, on this supposition, would have fallen about the year 1846 or 1847. It did not, however, appear at that epoch, nor in any subsequent year up to the present time, although, from some very elaborate calculations by Mr Hind and Professor Bomme (too elaborate, it would appear, to have been bestowed on the imperfect records we possess of its previous history) it should have been delayed by planetary perturbations for several years be- yond that date, and even so late as to the year 1858 or 1860. (42 ) Accordingly, when the three great comets, whose arrival in and since the year 1858 has so surprised and delighted the astronomical world, made their successive appearances, there were few persons at all acquainted with cometary history whose first impression was not that of the return of " Hind's Comet," as it had grown to be called, from the eminent calculator and mathe- matician who had bestowed so much pains on it. This, however, it is needless to observe, was not the case. Neither of them had ever been seen before, nor can either of them ever be expected to appear again, unless to a posterity which may look back on our record of them as we do on those ancient Chinese annals already spoken of. Of these, by far the most magnificent in point of mere display, as well as the most inter- esting, when contemplated in a physical point of view, was that of 1858 (the fifth of that year), or Donati's comet, as it is now called, from the astronomer of that ON COMETS. 127 name, who first observed it at Florence on the 2d of June, at which time it appeared only as a round misty patch or "nebula." This was about a month after it had passed from the southern to the northern side of the plane of the earth's orbit : and that of the comet being very highly inclined (63) to the ecliptic ; its peri- helion lying also on the north side of that plane ; its motion being retrograde, and the earth accordingly ad- vancing to meet it ; all these favourable circumstances concurring, it so happened that our nearest proximity to it occurred only six days after its "perihelion passage" or time of nearest approach to the sun, which took place on the 2 Qth of September, and in a situation with respect to the sun every way advantageous to obtaining a good view of it Accordingly, with the exception of the comet of Halley in 1835, no comet on record has been watched with such assiduity, or been more thoroughly scrutinized. A resume of all the observations of it has been recently published by Professor Bond, forming the third volume of the " Annals of the Observatory of Harvard College, in the United States," in which its appearance in every stage of its progress is represented in a series of engrav- ings, which in point of exquisite finish and beauty of delineation leave far behind everything hitherto done in that department of astronomy. (43.) It was not till the i4th of August, or 73 days after its first discovery, that it began to throw out a tail, and to become a conspicuous object. Very soon after this, its first appearance ; a slight but perceptible curvature was perceived in the tail, which, on the i6th of Sep- 128 ON COMETS. tember, had become unmistakable, and continued to increase in amount as the latter extended in apparent dimension, till it assumed at length that superb aigrette- like form, like a tall plume wafted by the breeze, which has never probably formed so conspicuous a feature in any previous comet. To a certain extent, it is a common enough feature in the tails of comets, and is usually re- garded as conveying the idea of their moving in a resisting medium ; in a space, that is to say, not quite empty, as smoke is left behind a moving torch. But this is a very gross and inadequate conception of the peculiarity in question. The resistance of the " ether," such as the phenomena of Encke's comet already noticed, may be supposed to indicate, is far too infin- itesmally small to be competent to produce any per- ceptible deviation from straightness. Nor is it at all necessary to resort to any such explanation of the fact. Such an appearance would naturally arise from a combi- nation of the motion the matter of the tail had (in participation with that of the nucleus) with the impulse given it by the sun each particle of it describing, from the moment of quitting the head, an orbit quite different from that of the latter; being necessarily, under the influence of the repulsive force directed from the sun, a curve of the form called by geometers an hyperbola, nearly approaching to a straight line, and having its con- vexity turned towards the sun : the visible form of the tail (be it observed) being, not the perspective view of such an orbit, but that of the portion of space contain- ing, for the time being, all those particles, each descrih- ON COMETS. 129 ing its own independent orbit, and each reflecting to the eye its quota of the solar light.* (44.) A very striking feature in Professor Bond's en- gravings, which he describes as frequently and certainly observed in America, and which did not pass wholly unnoticed in Europe, consists in the appearance of one, and on some nights two, excessively faint, narrow, and perfectly straight rays of light, or " secondary tails," start- ing off from the main tail on its preceding or anterior side (that towards which the comet was advancing, and which side was always the brightest, sharpest, and best denned) in the direction of tangents to its curvature at points very near the head, and extending on some nights (on the 4th, 5th, and 6th of October) to a much greater length than the primary or more luminous tail. These appearances were presented from the 28th Sep- tember to the nth of October with more or less dis- tinctness. They are peculiarly instructive, as they clearly indicate an analysis of the cometic matter by the sun 's repul- sive action the matter of the secondary tails being evidentlv darted off with incomparably greater velocity (indicating an incomparably greater intensity of repulsive energy) than that which went to form the primary one. The primary tail also presented another feature, fre- quently, indeed almost always, observed in comets, viz., * Some anomalous appearances in the early development of the tail in this comet, which was slightly curved, even when the earth was in the plane of the orbit, can by no means be regarded as fatal to this explanation of the general phenomenon, as they might have originated in a lateral direction of projection of the caudal matter from the nucleus in ipso tnotus initio, I I3O ON COMETS. its separation, behind the head, into two main streams with comparative darkness between them. This would be a natural and necessary optical consequence of the tail consisting of a hollow, conical envelope, streaming off on all sides around from the head, and presenting to the eye therefore a much greater thickness of luminous matter at its edges than at its middle. But in this comet the separation, when viewed through powerful telescopes, was singularly sharp ; and appeared as a clear, narrow, straight cut, or dark chink, originating close to the nucleus (as, indeed, on that explanation of the fact it ought). And this brings me to treat of the appearances presented by the head and nucleus under the inspection of power- ful telescopes. (45.) All considerable comets which have been ex- amined with anything like what would in these days be re- garded as & powerful telescope, have presented the appear- ance of a nucleus of more or less definable and condensed light, sometimes having a much brighter and almost stellar point in or near its centre, and at some distance, in the direction of the sun, a capping of light sometimes quite separated, as if some transparent atmosphere sustained it more frequently connected by those fan- like jets of " flame," such as we have mentioned in the case of Halley's comet, and putting on the aspect of a "sector," or fan, opening out into a widening arc, and bounded internally by two crescents springing from the nucleus. Donati's comet exhibited this feature in per- fection ; not, however, without striking variations and individual peculiarities. There was the same appearance ON COMETS. 131 with low magnifying powers of an envelope surrounding a nucleus in the general way above described, but the connexion was singularly varied, as if several jets of luminous (or illuminated) matter had been issuing from various parts of the nucleus, giving rise, by their more or less oblique presentation to the eye, to exceedingly varied appearances sometimes like the spokes of a wheel or the radial sticks of a fan, sometimes blotted by patches of irregular light, and sometimes interrupted by equally irregular blots of darkness. From the 24th September to the loth October, however, there were seen to form no less than three distinct caps or envelopes in front of the nucleus, each separated from that below it by a more or less distinct comparatively dark inter- val. These Professor Bond appears to consider as hav- ing been thrown off in intermittent succession, as if the forces of ejection had been temporarily exhausted, and again and again resumed a phase of activity; the peculiar action by which the matter of the envelopes was ulti- mately driven into the tail (or, as we conceive ifc an analysis of that matter performed by solar action, the levitating portion of it being hurried off the gravitating remaining behind in the form of a transparent, gaseous, non-reflective medium), taking place, not on the surface of the nucleus, but at successively higher levels. Mean- while, and especially from the yth to the loth of October, that is to say, when the full effect of the perihelion action had been endured, the nucleus and its adjacent sector offered every appearance of most violent, and, so to speak, angry excitement, evidenced by the complicated ON COMETS. structure and convolutions of the jets issuing from it From this time, to its final disappearance, the violence of action gradually calmed down, while the comet it- self went southwards, and at length vanished from our horizon. (46.) An idea of the actual dimensions of this comet may be formed from the measurements taken by Professor Bond on ihe 2d October, which, combined with the dis- tance of the comets from the earth at that date afford the following results, viz. : Miles. Diameter of the bright internal pellet or nucleus, . 1,600 Distance from its centre to the summit of the first envelope, .... 7, 500 Distance to that of the second envelope, . . 13,200 Breadth of the brightest part of the tail where it seemed (to the naked eye) to issue from the comet, ..... 90,000 to which it may be added that the actual length of the tail, when at its greatest development, could not have been less than 30 millions of miles, and those of the faint streaks or secondary tails 34 or 35 millions. (47.) The comet of 1861, which burst suddenly on us in its full splendour on the 3oth of June in that year (though it had been seen for seven weeks before in the southern hemisphere), was considered by those who saw it at its first appearance to surpass in brightness even that of 1858, and was remarkable for the extreme breadth and diffusion of its tail when first seen, arising from the cir- cumstance of the earth having been then situated nearly in its prolongation. Indeed, it is not impossible that on hat day we actually traversed some portion of it, our 'ON COMETS. 133 distance from the head being then only about 13,000,000 miles, and more than one observer having noticed and been much struck with an unusual and general brightness, like an auroral light not confined to the neighbourhood of the comet, but spreading over the whole sky. The most remarkable peculiarity of this comet, however, con- sisted in the enormous length which one side of its tail attained between the 2d and the 4th of July, extending in a perfectly straight but feeble ray from near the star Alpha in the Great Bear, to and beyond that designated by the same letter in Ophiuchus, or over 75 degrees in angular measure, contrasting strikingly with the stunted development and bushy aspect of the opposite branch. Its head, when viewed with good telescopes, exhibited the same general phenomena of luminous jets and crescent-like emanations as its predecessor, but much less complex and varied. Owing to the great inclination of its orbit, this comet, coming to us from the southern side of the ecliptic, soared high above it on the northern side and remained long and conspicuously visible as a cricumpolar object, the whole of its diurnal course being above our horizon. Not so its successor of 1862, whose orbit being but slightly inclined to our own, its motion retrograde (or meeting the earth), its perihelion distance almost exactly equal to our distance from the sun, and its passage through the perihelion occurring at a time when the earth was not very remote from that point, it passed us closely and swiftly, swelling into importance, and dying away with unusual rapidity. The phenomena exhibited by its nucleus and head were on this account 134 ON COMETS. peculiarly interesting and instructive, it being only on very rare occasions that a comet can be closely inspected at the very crisis of its fate, so as to witness the actual effect of the sun's rays on it. In this instance, the pour- ing forth of the cometic matter from the singularly bright and highly condensed, almost planetary nucleus, took place in a single compact stream, which after attaining a short distance, equal to rather less than a diameter of the nucleus itself, was so suddenly broken up and dis- persed as to give, on the first inspection, the impression of a double nucleus. The direction of this jet varied considerably from day to day, but always declined more or less in one direction from the exact direction from the sun. So far as I am aware, the formation of an envelope disjoined from the head was not witnessed in this comet. (48.) And now, I daresay, all my hearers are ready to ask After all what is the tail of a comet ? Is it material substance in the first place 1 To this I answer unhesi- tatingly, Yes ! Donati's comet has given a decisive proof on that point There is a criterion by which, when it is observed, it can be positively asserted that the light by which anything is seen has been reflected from a ma- terial substance. The light reflected, when it exhibits that peculiar property in which this criterion consists is said to be polarized. The direct light of the sun or that of a candle is not polarized, but when reflected at a par- ticular angle on any surface but a metallic one, it is, and if it is polarized, we may be sure that it is not direct light thrown out by the object seen, but borrowed or in- direct light No matter at present what this polarization ON COMETS. 135 is, all I wish to convey is, that there is a simple enough experiment which everybody who understands optics knows how to make, which if the result be of a certain kind, the reflection of the light is demonstrated (the con- verse, be it observed, does not hold good) in an instant, by merely looking through a small instrument contrived on purpose. Now, Mr Airy, the present astronomer- royal, a person who is not only an excellent astronomer, but who stands very high as an authority on this especial branch of optics, applied this test to the light of the comet's tail on the 27th September, and found it polar- ized. The (ail then shone by reflected light, and there was also another particular indication or character of the polarization impressed, which the same trial afforded, and which enabled him to say positively that the light had been reflected from some source of light agreeing in situation with the sun. (49.) The tail of the comet then was material substance.* But now, only conceive what must be the thinness, the almost spiritual lightness of a vapour or fog, which, oc- cupying such an enormous space, would not extinguish * I applied the same test to the comet of 1862. There are various modes of making the trial. Mine was by looking at the comet through an achromatized doubly refracting prism, and turning the prism round in its own plane. I could perceive no alternate maxima and minima of brightness in the images. But in this case it is the positive result which is conclusive. Everything depends in the first instance on the relative situations of the objects and the eye. And, moreover, the light of the comet of 1862 was far inferior to that of Donati's, rendering the experiment pro tanto more delicate and it is very possible that to septuagenarian eyes, indications of partial polarization might escape observation. 136 ON COMETS. the stars shining through it. Arcturus was noway dimmed when it shone through the very middle of the brightest part of the tail of that comet. But I have already stated that that part measured 90,000 miles, and as this part of the tail was no doubt round, as thick as broad, the star's light must have shone through 90,000 miles of this mist. Now, every one must have noticed that the steam puff of a railway carriage completely obscures the sun, much more a star. You cannot see the sun through it. Well, then : there must have been less substance in the line of 90,000 miles of tail between the eye and star than in the line of a few yards of steam smoke penetrated by the eye in the other case. (50.) If you look at a filmy cloud at sunset, though not thick enough to hide a star, you see it bright with vivid golden light by reflection from the sun. How much more then if it were much nearer to the sun, and much more strongly illuminated. Such a cloud is penetrated with light through its whole thickness and reflects it equally from its interior and exterior. Just so in the almost infinitely more thin texture of a comet even in the densest part of the head it cannot be compared to the lightest cloud so far as substance goes. In Biela's comet very minute stars have been seen by myself through a part of the head at least 50,000 miles in thick- ness, which a fog a few yards thick would have extin- guished. A solid body of a round shape would exhibit phases like the moon, and would appear sometimes as a half moon, sometimes as a crescent, and sometimes as a full moon but the heads of comets show no such appear- ON COMETS. 137 ances. Of course I do not mean to deny that that very minute brilliant point which some are said to have ex- hibited, may not be a solid body but it must be a very small one perhaps not a tenth or a hundredth part the size of the moon ; and, indeed, if there be not some little solid mass, it seems impossible to conceive how the ob- servations of a loose bundle of smoke, rolling and career- ing about, could ever be represented by any calculation. Certain it is, that what appears to be the central point of a comet, is that point (and no other is) which conforms rigorously to the laws of solar gravitation, and moves strictly in a parabolic or elliptic orbit. (51.) There is a very curious feature common to all the comets which have little or no tail, and which circulate about the sun in short periods ; such as that of Encke, in which it has been especially observed. As they ap- proach the sun, so far from dilating in size, they con tract, I mean in their real bulk, orat least their visible bulk, and on receding from the sun they grow again to their former size. The only possible explanation of this is, that a portion of their substance is evaporated by the heat that is to say, converted from the state of fog or cloud into that of invisible transparent vapour. Per- haps I ought to explain what is the difference. Take the case of a light cloud in a clear sky when the sun shines on it. If you watch it attentively, you will very often see it grow thinner and thinner, and at last dis- appear altogether. It has been converted from mist to invisible vapour. The material substance, the watery particles are there, but they have passed into another 138 ON COMETS. form of existence, in which, like the air itself, they are invisible. As the comet then gets heated a portion is actually vaporized and the vapour condenses as it cools again. The whole substance of the comet of Halley, as you have heard, was so evaporated in 1835-6, all but what I suppose must have been really its solid body ; that star which I have already mentioned, which was seen on the 22d January 1836 : and all that curious process that went on afterwards, no doubt was that of the re-condensation of the evaporated matter, and its gradual re-absorption into and close around the body. (52.) There is still one point in the history of comets which I have not touched upon, or but slightly. Compa- ratively only a few of the great number of comets which have been observed, and of which the orbits have been calculated, have been seen more than once the great majority once seen, seem lost for ever. What becomes of them, is a very natural question. The answer to this is, that the time of the periodical return of a comet depends entirely on the distance to which it may run out from the sun. Now we know of nothing to interfere with or disturb the motion of a comet, once clear of the planetary system, between the farthest planet and the nearest fixed star ; and that interval is so immense that the imagination is lost in attempting to conceive it. The farthest planet we know of is only 30 times the distance of the earth from the sun. Halley's comet in its ellip- tic orbit of 75 years, goes only a little beyond that, or to about 36 times the earth's distance. Donati's comet, if the computists are right, will return in 2100 years, and ON COMETS. 139 will have gone out to a distance 238 times the earth's distance from the sun, or nearly 80 times the distance of the planet Neptune. But this is still hardly the thou- sandth part of the distance to the very nearest fixed star and supposing the elliptical orbit of a comet should be so long as to carry it out only half-way to the nearest star its return to the sun would require upwards of u millions of years from its last appearance. Few of those who saw the last-mentioned comet pass over Arcturus, had any idea of the enormous distance at which the star really was behind the comet : and Arcturus is by no means the nearest star. (53.) I think, from what I have said, you will perceive that there is in the history of comets matter enough both to encourage inquiry and to check presumption. Looking to the amount of our positive knowledge of them know- ledge acquired by centuries of observation, and by the conspiring efforts within the last two centuries of the profoundest thought and the most persevering labour of which man is capable, we may reasonably enough con- gratulate ourselves on what has been done, and while we can afford to look back with an indulgent smile on the unfledged and somewhat puerile attempts of the ancient mind to penetrate their secret, we may as reasonably look forward to the revelations they will afford, as time rolls on, of facts and laws of which at present we have no idea. This may, and ought to inspire confidence of the powers of man to penetrate always deeper and deeper into the secrets of nature. But, on the other hand, here, as on every other occasion, we find that the last and 140 ON COMETS. greatest discoveries only land us on the confines of a wider and more wonderfully diversified view of the uni- verse ; and have now, as we always shall have, to ac- knowledge ourselves baffled and bowed down by the infinite which surrounds us on every side. (54.) Beyond all doubt, the widest and most interesting prospect of future discovery which their study holds out to us, is that distinction between gravitating and levitating matter, that positive and unrefutable demonstration of the existence in nature of a repulsive force, co-extensive with but enormously more powerful than the attractive force we call gravity, which the phenomena of their tails afford. This force cannot possibly be of the nature of electric or magnetic forces.* These forces are especially polar in their action between particle and particle a magnet, or an electrified particle, of indefinitely minute dimensions so minute as the discrete particles which go to form a comet's tail, could by no possibility be either attracted or repelled, as such, by a body, however power- fully magnetized or electrified, placed at the distance of the sun. It might have a direction given to its magnetic or electric axis, but its centre of gravity would not be * This and much of what follows may seem inconsistent with what is said in my "Results of Ast. Obs., &c., at the Cape of Good Hope," p. 409, and note thereon. To a certain extent it is so, and to that extent it is a recommendation, but I am here speaking only of that portion of the matter of the comet whose chemical union may be considered as completely overcome, and whose levitating or negative constituent is fairly driven off, never to return. That which may be conceived to remain behind may conform under the circumstances of the case to the dynamical relations there indicated. ON COMETS. 141 affected one way or the other. The attraction on one of its sides would precisely equal the repulsion on the other. The separation of one portion of the matter of a comet from the other by the action of the sun, which we see, unmistakably, operated at and near the peri- helion passage (a separation which the late Sir William Herschel certainly had in mind, though perhaps some- what indistinctly, when he spoke of a comet visiting our system for the first time as consisting of "unperiheli- oned " matter in contradistinction to those which he con- sidered to have lost their tails by the effect of repeated appulses, and to consist mainly of perihelioned matter) this separation I can only conceive, as I have ven- tured to express it above, as an analysis of the mate- rials : analogous to that analysis or rather disunion by the action of heat which St Clair Deville has lately shown to take place between the constituents of water at high temperatures. In this latter case the chemical affinity is so weakened that the mere difference of difficulty in travers- ing an earthenware tube suffices to set them free of one another. How much more so, then, were the one con- stituent of a chemical compound subject to a powerful repulsion from a centre which should attract the other, and with it by far the larger mass of the total comet. Might not, under such circumstances, the mere ordinary action of the sun's heat sufficiently weaken their bond of union : and might not the residual mass, losing at every return to the perihelion more and more of its levitating constituents, at length settle down into a quiet, sober, unexcitable denizen of our system ? LECTURE IV. THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. " Varium et mutabile semper." [HERE is an ugly look about the sky, and the wind is getting up, and Fiizro/s storm- signals were hoisted yesterday evening and are up now. We shall have a gale. I am afraid we must put off our boating for to-day anyhow," said my friend A to his wife the other day ; " there may be nothing in it ; but we should look very silly to come home half-drowned in the face of a warning." (2.) And it was well the lady took the advice. It was but a pleasure party after all. But the fishermen to whom the loss of a day was a serious matter, put off. Not that they altogether pooh-pooh 1 d the inverted cone and drum : but they reckoned on twenty-fours' law at least, and suffered for their miscalculation. One boat came on shore in fragments, several suffered damage, and all agreed it would have been wiser to have stayed at home. THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. 143 (3.) An occurrence like this took place at one of our southern watering-places not far from hence, a few days ago ; and the gale which followed was one of the pre- cursors of that far more fearful one which has just (appa- rently) blown itself out ;* part and parcel, no doubt, of that great periodical phaenomenon whose recurrence under the name of " the November atmospheric wave," is beginning to be recognized as one of the features of our European weather table a vast and considerably well-defined atmospherical disturbance ; peculiar, it would seem, to this portion of the globe, though origin- ating, as we shall see reason to believe, in the opposite hemisphere ; and of which the gale of the Royal Charter (October 25, 1859) ; the great Crimean hurricane of disastrous memory (November 14, 1855) ; and the still more awful storm of December 8, (N.S.) 1703, the greatest which has ever swept this island, may be considered as shadowing out the beginning, middle, and end. (4.) The actual barometric fluctuation to which the epithet has been affixed by Mr Birt, who first drew attention to one of its most peculiar features, is, how- ever, confined to narrower limits of time ; and refers to one great billow or mountainous breaker (so to speak) of air, which sweeps in November across the whole North Atlantic and the European continent from N.W. to S.E. ; preceded and followed by sudden and violent subor- * This was written on the morning of the 3d of November 1863, after a night of most terrific storm. 144 THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. dinate fluctuations, embracing in their whole extent and in different years the longer period referred to.* (5.) Meteorology, so far as prediction of the weather is concerned (which most persons consider, very erron- eously, to be its only practical object), may be regarded as a science still in its infancy ; though if such be the case, to judge from the voluminous nature of its records, and the multitude of books which have been written on it, its maturity, if ever attained, would promise to be gigantic indeed ; were it not that the progress of all real science is towards compression and condensation, and its whole aim to supersede the endless detail of individual cases by the announcement of easily remem- bered and readily applicable laws. Most of the indica- tions of the " weatherwise," from Aratus down to Foster, have hitherto been little more than what, in the language of Mr Mill, would be called " simple connotations." The condor is circling in the sky : therefore a lion is devouring a horse below. The sheep turn their tails to the south-west: therefore there will be a gale of wind from that quarter. The " Rainbow in the morning," &c. The " Evening red and the morning gray," &c., &c. All such connotations have their value in an abso- lute ignorance of causes and modes of action : but it is only by the study of these that we learn what to connote. And there is no doubt, that since, after an immense * This is the direction of the progress of the wave. That of the wind during the gales which accompany it is at right angles to that direction, or from S.W. to N.E. : in analogy (?) to the transverse rotation of the ethenal molecules in the piopagaiion of a circularly polarized ray of light. THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. 145 amount of persevering labour bestowed on daily and hourly records of the weather, an insight (and no incon- siderable one) has been gained into the causes which determine it, and the sequence of phenomena which exhibit them in action ; a style of connotation has com- menced, which is already bearing practical fruit, in the form of telegraphic warnings of approaching bad weather, of positive value and interest. There can be no better proof of this, than in the fact that the example set by our own Admiralty in the establishment of a system of coast weather signals, has already been followed to a certain extent in Holland, and is in course of being so in France. Nations are perhaps not overready in fol- lowing up the improvements of their neighbours ; but at all events, they are remarkably slow in adopting each other's practical blunders. (6.) The indications of the coming weather which experience has shown to be in any degree dependable, have been embodied by Admiral Fitzroy in a sort of code of instructions or " forecasts," which have been so very extensively circulated by his praiseworthy zeal, aided by the powerful means at his disposal, that we do not consider it necessary to recapitulate them. They rely mainly on the indications of the barometer and thermometer, together with the observation of the direc- tion and force of the wind at the time and place, and of its immediately previous course ; all these particulars being regarded not per se, but as in connexion with eacn other; their indications not being absolute, but relative : so that a nse in the barometer, coupled in one K. 146 THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. case with a rise, and in another with a fall in the ther- mometer, may indicate, under given, or, as the case may be, differing circumstances of wind ; widely different or even opposite features in the character of the approach- ing weather. It is to be borne in mind, however, most carefully, that all such indications are to be received as valid (pro tanto) only for a very brief interval in advance ; and that the " weather-prophet" who ventures his pre- dictions on the great scale, is altogether to be distrusted. A lucky hit may be made : nay, some rude approach to the perception of " a cycle of seasons" may possibly be attainable. But no person in his senses would alter his plans of conduct for six months in advance in the most trifling particular, on the faith of any special prediction of a warm or a cold, a wet or a dry, a calm or a stormy summer or winter. Of all the minor or simply connotative indications of the coming weather (as distinct from those which connect themselves with our knowledge of causes), the only one in which we place the slightest reliance is that the appearance of " anvil-shaped clouds" is very likely to be speedily followed by a gale of wind. (7.) The moon is often appealed to as a great indi- cator of the weather, and especially its changes as taken in conjunction with some existing state of wind or sky. As an attracting body causing an " aerial tide," it has of course an effect, but one utterly insignificant as a meteorological cause ; and the only effect distinctly connected with its position with regard to the sun which can be reckoned upon with any degree of certainty, is its tendency to clear the sky of cloud, and to prodmv not THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. 147 only a seiene, but a calm night, when so near the full ai to appear round to the eye a tendency of which we have assured ourselves by long continued and registered observation. This, however, is more than a " simple connotation." The effect in question, so far as the clearance of the sky is concerned, is traceable to a dis- tinct physical cause, the warmth radiated from its highly heated surface ; though why the effect should not continue for several nights after the full, remains problematic (8.) Lunar prognostics about the weather may be classed under three several heads, viz., ist, Simple connotations of the appearance of halos, coronas, lunar rainbows, and " a watery" moon, as prognostics of wet. No doubt they do indicate the presence of vapour, pass- ing into cloud, in the higher regions of the air (in that of the rainbow, actual rain not far away), and so may be put on a par with the indications which may sometimes be gathered from the behaviour of birds, especially such as fly high, and make long excursions, and which may convey to us some notion of their cogitations as to the coming weather ; which are perhaps more likely to be right than our own, as founded on a wider range of per- ception. 2d, Purely arbitrary laws or rules founded on the hour of the day or night at which the changes of the moon take place. There is (or was a few years ago, foi we believe the race is dying out) hardly a small farmei or farm-labourer who had not some faith in certain " wea- ther-tables" in the " Farmer's Almanac." ascribed (we need hardly say falsely) to the late Sir W. Herschel, and which went on this principle. Others, again, pressed 148 THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. into the service the great and recondite names of APO- GEE and PERIGEE ; and professed to determine the char- acter of the lunation from her proximity at new or full to these mysterious points of her orbit. Both the one and other rule utterly break down when brought to the tests of long-continued and registered experience. Others, again, drew their prognostic for the whole lunation from the character of the weather during the first quarter. Such was the rule said to have been implicitly adhered to by the late Marshal Bugeaud in the planning of any military expedition whose success was likely to be any way dependent on weather : *' Primus, secundus, tertius, nullus, Quartus, aliquis, Quintus, sextus, qualis ; Tota Luna talis." (9.) 3dly. A more ambitious form of lunar prediction was that of the late eminent meteorologist (for such, this one crotchet excepted, he certainly was), Luke Howard ; who took great account of the moon's declination as influencing the averages of rainfall, and of the height of the barometer. Still more so was his weather-cycle of nineteen years, the period of the circulation of the nodes of the moon's orbit ; in the course of which the absolute maximum of north declination occurs when the ascending node is in the spring equinox, and the moon 90 in advance of the node in her orbit, and that of south in the reversed circumstances the intermediate situations of the node corresponding to the absolute minima of each. These situations, according to the declination theory, THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. 149 ought to bring round a periodical increase and diminu- tion in the average rainfalls and barometric heights. Like the others, however, when compared on any ex- tended scale with recorded facts, this results in no establishment of any positive conclusion. (10.) A small monthly depression in the average tem- perature arising from the nocturnal radiation consequent on the cloudless state of the sky about the full moon, would seem almost a necessary consequence of that phenomenon. (n.) The causes by which that " various and mutable thing" which we call THE WEATHER are produced are in themselves few and simple enough ; but the physical laws which determine their actions are numerous and complex ; and the results, in consequence, so mutually interwoven, and the momentary conditions of their ac- tion so dependent on the state of things induced by their previous agency, that it is no wonder it should be next to impossible to trace each specific cause (act- ing as it has done through all past time) direct to its present effect. Yet from this very complexity results that sort of regulated casualty that apparently acci- dental, yet limited departure and excursion on either side from a monotonous medium that exceeding variety of climate, which renders our globe a fit habitation for such innumerable diversities of incompatible life and that general equilibrium in each which secures to every species, and to each individual of them all, its due share in the distribution of heat, moisture, and wholesome air : considerations, these, which are not lost on those I$O THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. who believe that they can trace in nature the operation of motive and design as distinct from a mere necessity arising out of the nature of things and the so-called conservation of vis viva. (12.) Let us take our globe as we find it revolving on its axis in twenty-four hours ; and carried round the sun in an orbit oblique to its equator in a year ; which is divided into two somewhat unequal halves (if such an expression may be pardoned) from equinox to equinox by its unequal angular motion in a slightly elliptic orbit ; thus giving rise to unequal summers and winters in the two hemispheres : its surface very unequally divided between land and sea the land mainly congregated upon one half of it, and that half principally belonging to the northern hemisphere ; and so distributed as effect- ually to bar all free circulation of the ocean in the direc- tion of the diurnal rotation (or round the equator), and allow but a restricted one in that at right angles to it (or across the poles) : thus compelling whatever circulation does exist, to take place within three great basins or semi-land-locked areas, and a vast southern expanse into which all the three open ; and within each of which a system of circulation is kept up by the action of the winds ; its course being determined partly by the sinuosi- ties of their shores, partly by the inequalities of their bottoms, and partly by the rotation of the earth itself (13.) We have, besides, to consider the globe as en tirely and deeply covered by an atmosphere of mixed gases highly elastic, very dilatable by heat, and of extreme mobility : expanding itself in virtue of its elas- THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. !$! ticity out into space, far above the tops of the highest mountains ; yet, in virtue of its compressibility, so con- densed (comparatively) in its lower strata as that one- third of its total ponderable mass lies within a mile of altitude above the sea-level nearly one-half within two, and nearly two-thirds within five miles ; within which latter limit the whole would be contained, were it every- where of the same density as on the surface : so that only about one-third of its total mass is free to range, unimpeded by the crests of the highest Himalaya ; and not much more than two-fifths can entirely clear the range of the Andes without pressure d tergo. In conse- quence, when driven in the state of WIND over these or other mountain ranges, it is thrown up into vast ripples or waves, which are propagated thenceforward onwards over indefinite areas of land or sea, and become no doubt the origin of a great part of those casual fluctua- tions of the barometer which give so much trouble to meteorologists. (14.) This aerial ocean is not of the same temperature throughout, even in the same climate and over the same tract of country. It is everywhere warmer near the ground, colder aloft and at very great heights a most intense cold always prevails ; more intense than that of our severest winters. Hence the snow which covers the summits of lofty mountains even in the hottest climates. This relation between the temperatures existing below and aloft is not subverted by any amount of mutual admixture of the strata, such as internal movements or ascending currents would produce. On the contrary, 152 THE WEATHER, AND WEATHER PROPHETS. paradoxical as it may appear, such ascensional move- ments are the primary cause of this state of things ; in consequence of the habitudes of air with respect to heat when compressed or expanded, according to a mode of action well understood by meteorologists, which we need not stop here to explain, as the reader will readily collect it for himself from what follows. (15.) As the air aloft is colder than below, so also is it drier. Every one considers that he knows the dis- tinction between damp and dry air ; but many are not aware that all air contains some moisture, in the form of transparent invisible vapour ; or that in summer and winter on two days, both which would in common par- lance be pronounced dry ones, there is more than twice as much moisture present in an equal bulk of air in the summer, as in the winter day. Tn this state of invisible vapour which water is always assuming (throwing itself off in that form from its surface whenever exposed, and the more copiously the warmer it is), the air is its general recipient and distributor. The mechanism by which it is enabled to do so on the great scale is exceedingly curious. We shall endeavour to exhibit it, as it were in action not so much with a view to affording a coup-d'