The time of the earth's revolution on its axis, as already explained, is

called a sidereal day, and is determined by the revolution of a star in

the heavens. This interval is divided into twenty-four _sidereal_

hours. Observations taken on numerous stars, in different ages of the

world, show that they all perform their diurnal revolution in the same

time, and that their motion, during any part of the revolution, is

always uniform. Here, then, we have an exact measure of time, probably

more exact than any thing which can be devised by art. _Solar time_ is

reckoned by the apparent revolution of the sun from the meridian round

to the meridian again. Were the sun stationary in the heavens, like a

fixed star, the time of its apparent revolution would be equal to the

revolution of the earth on its axis, and the solar and the sidereal days

would be equal. But, since the sun passes from west to east, through

three hundred and sixty degrees, in three hundred and sixty-five and one

fourth days, it moves eastward nearly one degree a day. While,

therefore, the earth is turning round on its axis, the sun is moving in

the same direction, so that, when we have come round under the same

celestial meridian from which we started, we do not find the sun there,

but he has moved eastward nearly a degree, and the earth must perform so

much more than one complete revolution, before we come under the sun

again. Now, since we move, in the diurnal revolution, fifteen degrees in

sixty minutes, we must pass over one degree in four minutes. It takes,

therefore, four minutes for us to _catch up_ with the sun, after we have

made one complete revolution. Hence the solar day is about four minutes

longer than the sidereal; and if we were to reckon the sidereal day

twenty-four hours, we should reckon the solar day twenty-four hours four

minutes. To suit the purposes of society at large, however, it is found

more convenient to reckon the solar days twenty-four hours, and throw

the fraction into the sidereal day. Then,

24h. 4m. : 24h. :: 24h. : 23h. 56m. 4s.

That is, when we reduce twenty-four hours and four minutes to

twenty-four hours, the same proportion will require that we reduce the

sidereal day from twenty-four hours to twenty-three hours fifty-six

minutes four seconds; or, in other words, a sidereal day is such a part

of a solar day. The solar days, however, do not always differ from the

sidereal by precisely the same fraction, since they are not constantly

of the same length. Time, as measured by the sun, is called _apparent

time_, and a clock so regulated as always to keep exactly with the sun,

is said to keep apparent time. _Mean time_ is time reckoned by the

_average_ length of all the solar days throughout the year. This is the

period which constitutes the _civil_ day of twenty-four hours, beginning

when the sun is on the lower meridian, namely, at twelve o'clock at

night, and counted by twelve hours from the lower to the upper meridian,

and from the upper to the lower. The _astronomical_ day is the apparent

solar day counted through the whole twenty-four hours, (instead of by

periods of twelve hours each, as in the civil day,) and begins at noon.

Thus it is now the tenth of June, at nine o'clock, A.M., according to

civil time; but we have not yet reached the tenth of June by

astronomical time, nor shall we, until noon to-day; consequently, it is

now June ninth, twenty-first hour of astronomical time. Astronomers,

since so many of their observations are taken on the meridian, are

always supposed to look towards the south. Geographers, having formerly

been conversant only with the northern hemisphere, are always understood

to be looking towards the north. Hence, left and right, when applied to

the astronomer, mean east and west, respectively; but to the geographer

the right is east, and the left, west.

Clocks are usually regulated so as to indicate mean solar time; yet, as

this is an artificial period not marked off, like the sidereal day, by

any natural event, it is necessary to know how much is to be added to,

or subtracted from, the apparent solar time, in order to give the

corresponding mean time. The interval, by which apparent time differs

from mean time, is called the _equation of time_. If one clock is so

constructed as to keep exactly with the sun, going faster or slower,

according as the lengths of the solar days vary, and another clock is

regulated to mean time, then the difference of the two clocks, at any

period, would be the equation of time for that moment. If the apparent

clock were _faster_ than the mean, then the equation of time must be

subtracted; but if the apparent clock were slower than the mean, then

the equation of time must be added, to give the mean time. The two

clocks would differ most about the third of November, when the apparent

time is sixteen and one fourth minutes greater than the mean. But since

apparent time is sometimes greater and sometimes less than mean time,

the two must obviously be sometimes equal to each other. This is, in

fact, the case four times a year, namely, April fifteenth, June

fifteenth, September first, and December twenty-fourth.

Astronomical clocks are made of the best workmanship, with every

advantage that can promote their regularity. Although they are brought

to an astonishing degree of accuracy, yet they are not as regular in

their movements as the stars are, and their accuracy requires to be

frequently tested. The transit instrument itself, when once accurately

placed in the meridian, affords the means of testing the correctness of

the clock, since one revolution of a star, from the meridian to the

meridian again, ought to correspond exactly to twenty-four hours by the

clock, and to continue the same, from day to day; and the right

ascensions of various stars, as they cross the meridian, ought to be

such by the clock, as they are given in the tables, where they are

stated according to the accurate determinations of astronomers. Or, by

taking the difference of any two stars, on successive days, it will be

seen whether the going of the clock is uniform for that part of the day;

and by taking the right ascensions of different pairs of stars, we may

learn the rate of the clock at various parts of the day. We thus learn,

not only whether the clock accurately measures the length of the

sidereal day, but also whether it goes uniformly from hour to hour.

Although astronomical clocks have been brought to a great degree of

perfection, so as hardly to vary a second for many months, yet none are

absolutely perfect, and most are so far from it, as to require to be

corrected by means of the transit instrument, every few days. Indeed,

for the nicest observations, it is usual not to attempt to bring the

clock to a state of absolute correctness, but, after bringing it as near

to such a state as can conveniently be done, to ascertain how much it

gains or loses in a day; that is, to ascertain the _rate_ of its going,

and to make allowance accordingly.

Having considered the manner in which the smaller divisions of time are

measured, let us now take a hasty glance at the larger periods which

compose the calendar.

As a _day_ is the period of the revolution of the earth on its axis, so

a _year_ is the period of the revolution of the earth around the sun.

This time, which constitutes the _astronomical year_, has been

ascertained with great exactness, and found to be three hundred and

sixty-five days five hours forty-eight minutes and fifty-one seconds.

The most ancient nations determined the number of days in the year by

means of the _stylus_, a perpendicular rod which casts its shadow on a

smooth plane bearing a meridian line. The time when the shadow was

shortest, would indicate the day of the Summer solstice; and the number

of days which elapsed, until the shadow returned to the same length

again, would show the number of days in the year. This was found to be

three hundred and sixty-five whole days, and accordingly, this period

was adopted for the civil year. Such a difference, however, between the

civil and astronomical years, at length threw all dates into confusion.

For if, at first, the Summer solstice happened on the twenty-first of

June, at the end of four years, the sun would not have reached the

solstice until the twenty-second of June; that is, it would have been

behind its time. At the end of the next four years, the solstice would

fall on the twenty-third; and in process of time, it would fall

successively on every day of the year. The same would be true of any

other fixed date.

Julius Cæsar, who was distinguished alike for the variety and extent of

his knowledge, and his skill in arms, first attempted to make the

calendar conform to the motions of the sun.

"Amidst the hurry of tumultuous war,

The stars, the gods, the heavens, were still his care."

Aided by Sosigenes, an Egyptian astronomer, he made the first correction

of the calendar, by introducing an additional day every fourth year,

making February to consist of twenty-nine instead of twenty-eight days,

and of course the whole year to consist of three hundred and sixty-six

days. This fourth year was denominated _Bissextile_, because the sixth

day before the Kalends of March was reckoned twice. It is also called

Leap Year.

The Julian year was introduced into all the civilized nations that

submitted to the Roman power, and continued in general use until the

year 1582. But the true correction was not six hours, but five hours

forty-nine minutes; hence the addition was too great by eleven minutes.

This small fraction would amount in one hundred years to three fourths

of a day, and in one thousand years to more than seven days. From the

year 325 to the year 1582, it had, in fact, amounted to more than ten

days; for it was known that, in 325, the vernal equinox fell on the

twenty-first of March, whereas, in 1582, it fell on the eleventh. It was

ordered by the Council of Nice, a celebrated ecclesiastical council,

held in the year 325, that Easter should be celebrated upon the first

Sunday after the first full moon, next following the vernal equinox; and

as certain other festivals of the Romish Church were appointed at

particular seasons of the year, confusion would result from such a want

of constancy between any fixed date and a particular season of the year.

Suppose, for example, a festival accompanied by numerous religious

ceremonies, was decreed by the Church to be held at the time when the

sun crossed the equator in the Spring, (an event hailed with great joy,

as the harbinger of the return of Summer,) and that, in the year 325,

March twenty-first was designated as the time for holding the festival,

since, at that period, it was on the twenty-first of March when the sun

reached the equinox; the next year, the sun would reach the equinox a

little sooner than the twenty-first of March, only eleven minutes,

indeed, but still amounting in twelve hundred years to ten days; that

is, in 1582, the sun reached the equinox on the eleventh of March. If,

therefore, they should continue to observe the twenty-first as a

religious festival in honor of this event, they would commit the

absurdity of celebrating it ten days after it had passed by. Pope

Gregory the Thirteenth, who was then at the head of the Roman See, was a

man of science, and undertook to reform the calendar, so that fixed

dates would always correspond to the same seasons of the year. He first

decreed, that the year should be brought forward ten days, by reckoning

the fifth of October the fifteenth; and, in order to prevent the

calendar from falling into confusion afterwards, he prescribed the

following rule: _Every year whose number is not divisible by four,

without a remainder, consists of three hundred and sixty-five days;

every year which is so divisible, but is not divisible by one hundred,

of three hundred and sixty-six; every year divisible by one hundred, but

not by four hundred, again, of three hundred and sixty-five; and every

year divisible by four hundred, of three hundred and sixty-six._

Thus the year 1838, not being divisible by four, contains three hundred

and sixty-five days, while 1836 and 1840 are leap years. Yet, to make

every fourth year consist of three hundred and sixty-six days would

increase it too much, by about three fourths of a day in a century;

therefore every hundredth year has only three hundred and sixty-five

days. Thus 1800, although divisible by four, was not a leap year, but a

common year. But we have allowed a _whole_ day in a hundred years,

whereas we ought to have allowed only _three fourths_ of a day. Hence,

in four hundred years, we should allow a day too much, and therefore, we

let the four hundredth remain a leap year. This rule involves an error

of less than a day in four thousand two hundred and thirty-seven years.

The Pope, who, you will recollect, at that age assumed authority over

all secular princes, issued his decree to the reigning sovereigns of

Christendom, commanding the observance of the calendar as reformed by

him. The decree met with great opposition among the Protestant States,

as they recognised in it a new exercise of ecclesiastical tyranny; and

some of them, when they received it, made it expressly understood, that

their acquiescence should not be construed as a submission to the Papal

authority.

In 1752, the Gregorian year, or _New Style_, was established in Great

Britain by act of Parliament; and the dates of all deeds, and other

legal papers, were to be made according to it. As above a century had

then passed since the first introduction of the new style, eleven days

were suppressed, the third of September being called the fourteenth. By

the same act, the beginning of the year was changed from March

twenty-fifth to January first. A few persons born previously to 1752

have come down to our day, and we frequently see inscriptions on

tombstones of those whose time of birth is recorded in old style. In

order to make this correspond to our present mode of reckoning, we must

add eleven days to the date. Thus the same event would be June twelfth

of old style, or June twenty-third of new style; and if an event

occurred between January first and March twenty-fifth, the date of the

year would be advanced one, since February 1st, 1740, O.S. would be

February 1st, 1741, N.S. Thus, General Washington was born February

11th, 1731, O.S., or February 22d, 1732, N.S. If we inquire how any

present event may be made to correspond in date to the old style, we

must subtract twelve days, and put the year back one, if the event lies

between January first and March twenty-fifth. Thus, June tenth, N.S.

corresponds to May twenty-ninth, O.S.; and March 20th, 1840, to March

8th, 1839. France, being a Roman Catholic country, adopted the new style

soon after it was decreed by the Pope; but Protestant countries, as we

have seen, were much slower in adopting it; and Russia, and the Greek

Church generally, still adhere to the old style. In order, therefore, to

make the Russian dates correspond to ours, we must add to them twelve

days.

It may seem to you very remarkable, that so much pains should have been

bestowed upon this subject; but without a correct and uniform standard

of time, the dates of deeds, commissions, and all legal papers; of fasts

and festivals, appointed by ecclesiastical authority; the returns of

seasons, and the records of history,--must all fall into inextricable

confusion. To change the observance of certain religious feasts, which

have been long fixed to particular days, is looked upon as an impious

innovation; and though the times of the events, upon which these

ceremonies depend, are utterly unknown, it is still insisted upon by

certain classes in England, that the Glastenbury thorn blooms on

Christmas day.

Although the ancient Grecian calendar was extremely defective, yet the

common people were entirely averse to its reformation. Their

superstitious adherence to these errors was satirized by Aristophanes,

in his comedy of the Clouds. An actor, who had just come from Athens,

recounts that he met with Diana, or the moon, and found her extremely

incensed, that they did not regulate her course better. She complained,

that the order of Nature was changed, and every thing turned topsyturvy.

The gods no longer knew what belonged to them; but, after paying their

visits on certain feast-days, and expecting to meet with good cheer, as

usual, they were under the disagreeable necessity of returning back to

heaven without their suppers.

Among the Greeks, and other ancient nations, the length of the year was

generally regulated by the course of the moon. This planet, on account

of the different appearances which she exhibits at her full, change,

and quarters, was considered by them as best adapted of any of the

celestial bodies for this purpose. As one lunation, or revolution of the

moon around the earth, was found to be completed in about twenty-nine

and one half days, and twelve of these periods being supposed equal to

one revolution of the sun, their months were made to consist of

twenty-nine and thirty days alternately, and their year of three hundred

and fifty-four days. But this disagreed with the annual revolution of

the sun, which must evidently govern the seasons of the year, more than

eleven days. The irregularities, which such a mode of reckoning would

occasion, must have been too obvious not to have been observed. For,

supposing it to have been settled, at any particular time, that the

beginning of the year should be in the Spring; in about sixteen years

afterwards, the beginning would have been in Autumn; and in thirty-three

or thirty-four years, it would have gone backwards through all the

seasons, to Spring again. This defect they attempted to rectify, by

introducing a number of days, at certain times, into the calendar, as

occasion required, and putting the beginning of the year forwards, in

order to make it agree with the course of the sun. But as these

additions, or _intercalations_, as they were called, were generally

consigned to the care of the priests, who, from motives of interest or

superstition, frequently omitted them, the year was made long or short

at pleasure.

The _week_ is another division of time, of the highest antiquity, which,

in almost all countries, has been made to consist of seven days; a

period supposed by some to have been traditionally derived from the

creation of the world; while others imagine it to have been regulated by

the phases of the moon. The names, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, are

obviously derived from Saturn, the Sun, and the Moon; while Tuesday,

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, are the days of Tuisco, Woden, Thor,

and Friga, which are Saxon names for Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, and

Venus.[4]

The common year begins and ends on the same day of the week; but leap

year ends one day later than it began. Fifty-two weeks contain three

hundred and sixty-four days; if, therefore, the year begins on Tuesday,

for example, we should complete fifty-two weeks on Monday, leaving one

day, (Tuesday,) to complete the year, and the following year would begin

on Wednesday. Hence, any day of the month is one day later in the week,

than the corresponding day of the preceding year. Thus, if the sixteenth

of November, 1838, falls on Friday, the sixteenth of November, 1837,

fell on Thursday, and will fall, in 1839, on Saturday. But if leap year

begins on Sunday, it ends on Monday, and the following year begins on

Tuesday; while any given day of the month is two days later in the week

than the corresponding date of the preceding year.

FOOTNOTE:

[4] Bonnycastle's Astronomy.

LETTER VII.

FIGURE OF THE EARTH.

"He took the golden compasses, prepared

In God's eternal store, to circumscribe

This universe, and all created things;

One foot he centred, and the other turned

Round through the vast profundity obscure,

And said, 'Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds,

This be thy just circumference, O World!'"--_Milton._

IN the earliest ages, the earth was regarded as one continued plane;

but, at a comparatively remote period, as five hundred years before the

Christian era, astronomers began to entertain the opinion that the earth

is round. We are able now to adduce various arguments which severally

prove this truth. First, when a ship is coming in from sea, we first

observe only the very highest parts of the ship, while the lower

portions come successively into view. Were the earth a continued plane,

the lower parts of the ship would be visible as soon as the higher, as

is evident from Fig. 10, page 70.

[Illustration Fig. 10.]

[Illustration Fig. 11.]

Since light comes to the eye in straight lines, by which objects become

visible, it is evident, that no reason exists why the parts of the ship

near the water should not be seen as soon as the upper parts. But if the

earth be a sphere, then the line of sight would pass above the deck of

the ship, as is represented in Fig. 11; and as the ship drew nearer to

land, the lower parts would successively rise above this line and come

into view exactly in the manner known to observation. Secondly, in a

lunar eclipse, which is occasioned by the moon's passing through the

earth's shadow, the figure of the shadow is seen to be spherical, which

could not be the case unless the earth itself were round. Thirdly,

navigators, by steering continually in one direction, as east or west,

have in fact come round to the point from which they started, and thus

confirmed the fact of the earth's rotundity beyond all question. One may

also reach a given place on the earth, by taking directly opposite

courses. Thus, he may reach Canton in China, by a westerly route around

Cape Horn, or by an easterly route around the Cape of Good Hope. All

these arguments severally prove that the earth is round.

But I propose, in this Letter, to give you some account of the unwearied

labors which have been performed to ascertain the _exact_ figure of the

earth; for although the earth is properly described in general language

as round, yet it is not an exact sphere. Were it so, all its diameters

would be equal; but it is known that a diameter drawn through the

equator exceeds one drawn from pole to pole, giving to the earth the

form of a _spheroid_,--a figure resembling an orange, where the ends are

flattened a little and the central parts are swelled out.

Although it would be a matter of very rational curiosity, to investigate

the precise shape of the planet on which Heaven has fixed our abode, yet

the immense pains which has been bestowed on this subject has not all

arisen from mere curiosity. No accurate measurements can be taken of the

distances and magnitudes of the heavenly bodies, nor any exact

determinations made of their motions, without a knowledge of the exact

figure of the earth; and hence is derived a powerful motive for

ascertaining this element with all possible precision.

Letters on Astronomy in which the Elements of the Science are Familiarly Explained in Connection with Biographical Sketches of the Most Eminent Astronomers · 第 4 / 33 段