SECTION XXV.

Size and Constitution of the Sun—The Solar Spots—Intensity of the

Sun’s Light and Heat—The Sun’s Atmosphere—His influence on the

Planets—Atmospheres of the Planets—The Moon has none—Lunar

heat—The Differential Telescope—Temperature of Space—Internal

Heat of the Earth—Zone of constant Temperature—Increase of Heat

With the Depth—Central Heat—Volcanic Action—Quantity of Heat

received from the Sun—Isogeothermal Lines—Line of perpetual

Congelation—Climate—Isothermal Lines—Same quantity of Heat

annually received and radiated by the Earth.

THE sun is a globe 880,000 miles in diameter: what his body may be it is

impossible to conjecture, but it seems to be a dark mass surrounded by

an extensive atmosphere at a certain height in which there is a stratum

of luminous clouds which constitutes the photosphere of the sun. Above

it rises the true solar atmosphere, visible as an aureola or corona

during annular and total eclipses, and probably the cause of the

peculiar phenomena in the photographic image of the sun already

mentioned. Through occasional openings in the photosphere or mottled

ocean of flame, the dark nucleus appears like black spots, often of

enormous size. These spots are almost always comprised within a zone of

the sun’s surface, whose breadth measured on a solar meridian does not

extend beyond 30-1/2° on each side of his equator, though they have been

seen at a distance of 39-1/2°. The dark central part of the spots is

surrounded by a succession of obscure cloudy envelopes increasing in

brightness up to a penumbra, sometimes there are three or more shades,

but it requires a good telescope to distinguish the intermediate ones.

The spots gradually increase in size and number from year to year to a

maximum, and then as gradually decrease to a minimum, accomplishing

regular vicissitudes in periods of about eleven years, and are

singularly connected with the cycles of terrestrial magnetism. From

their extensive and rapid changes, there is every reason to believe that

the exterior and incandescent part of the sun is gaseous.

Doubts have arisen as to the uniformity of the quantity of heat emitted

by the sun. Sir William Herschel was the first to suspect that it was

affected by the quantity and magnitude of the spots on his surface;

Professor Secchi has observed that the spots are less hot than the

luminous part; and now Professor Wolf has perceived that the amount of

heat emitted by the sun varies periodically with the spots every 11·11

years, or nearly nine times in a century, beginning at the commencement

of the present one. He has discovered a sub-period in that of the spots,

which no doubt has an effect on the quantity of solar heat. So the

unaccountable vicissitudes in the temperature of different years may

ultimately be found to depend upon the constitution of the sun himself.

The intensity of the sun’s light diminishes from the centre to the

circumference of the solar disc. His direct light has been estimated to

be equal to that of 5563 wax candles of moderate size placed at the

distance of one foot from an object; that of the moon is probably only

equal to the light of one candle at the distance of 12 feet:

consequently the light of the sun is more than three hundred thousand

times greater than that of the moon. According to Professor Secchi’s

experiments at Rome, the heat of the solar image is almost twice as

great at the centre as at the edge. The maximum heat, however, is not in

the centre, but in the solar equator, and the spots are less hot than

the rest of the surface.

The oceans of light and heat probably arising from electric or chemical

processes of immense energy that continually take place at the sun’s

surface (N. 217) are transmitted in undulations by the ethereal medium

in all directions; but notwithstanding the sun’s magnitude and the

inconceivable intensity of light and heat that must exist at his

surface, as the intensity of both diminishes as the square of the

distance increases, his kindly influence can hardly be felt at the

boundaries of our system. In Uranus the sun must be seen like a small

brilliant star not above the hundred and fiftieth part as bright as he

appears to us, but that is 2000 times brighter than our moon, so that he

is really a sun to Uranus, and may impart some degree of warmth. But if

we consider that water would not remain fluid in any part of Mars, even

at his equator, and that, in the temperate zones of the same planet,

even alcohol and quicksilver would freeze, we may form some idea of the

cold that must reign in Uranus and Neptune. The climate of Venus more

nearly resembles that of the earth, though, excepting at her poles, much

too hot for animal and vegetable life such as they exist here, for she

receives seven times as much light and heat as the earth does; but in

Mercury the mean heat from the intensity of the sun’s rays must be above

that of boiling quicksilver, and water would boil even at his poles.

Thus the planets, though kindred with the earth in motion and form, are,

according to our experience, totally unfit for the habitation of such a

being as man, unless indeed their temperature should be modified by

circumstances of which we are not aware, and which may increase or

diminish the sensible heat so as to render them habitable. In our utter

ignorance it may be observed, that the earth, if visible at all from

Neptune, can only be a minute telescopic object; that from the nearest

fixed star the sun must dwindle to a mere point of light; that the whole

solar system would there be hid by a spider’s thread; and that the

starry firmament itself is only the first series of starry systems, the

numbers of which are bounded alone by the imperfection of our

space-penetrating instruments. In this overwhelming majesty of creation,

it seems rash to affirm that the earth alone is inhabited by intelligent

beings, and thus to limit the Omnipotent, who has made nothing in vain.

Several of the planets have extensive and dense atmospheres: according

to Schroëter the atmosphere of Ceres is more than 668 miles high, and

that of Pallas has an elevation of 465 miles, but not a trace of an

atmosphere can be perceived round Vesta. The attraction of the earth has

probably deprived the moon of hers, for the refractive power of the air

at the surface of the earth is at least a thousand times as great as at

the surface of the moon: the lunar atmosphere must therefore be of a

greater degree of rarity than can be produced by our best air-pumps.

This is confirmed by Arago’s observations during a solar eclipse, when

no trace of a lunar atmosphere could be seen. Since then, however, some

indications of air have been perceived in the lunar valleys. In taking

photographic images of the moon and Jupiter at Rome, Professor Secchi

found that the light of the full moon is to that of the quarter moon as

3 to 1. Jupiter gives a photographic image as bright and vigorous as the

brightest part of the moon; but although the light of Jupiter is less

than that of the moon, he is nearly five times farther from the sun; and

as light diminishes as the square of the distance increases, the light

of Jupiter is proportionally greater than that of the moon, consequently

Jupiter’s atmosphere reflects more light than the dark volcanic soil of

the moon; thus Professor Secchi observes photography may in time reveal

the quality of the materials of which the celestial bodies are formed.

The effect of the earth’s atmosphere on lunar heat is remarkable.

Professor Forbes proved that the direct light of the full moon is

incapable of raising a thermometer the one three thousandth part of a

Centigrade degree, at least in England; but at an elevation of 8870 feet

on the Peak of Teneriffe, Mr. Piazzi Smyth found a very sensible heat

from the moon, although she was then 19° south of the equator; so it is

no doubt absorbed by our atmosphere at lower levels.

Some exceedingly interesting experiments might be made by means of a

telescope having a prism attached to its objective extremity, and

furnished with a micrometer, because by it the difference of the

illumination of objects might be determined with extreme accuracy—as for

example, the comparative intensity between the bright and dark parts of

the moon, the comparative intensity of the solar light reflected by the

moon, and the lumière cendré, or the light of the earth reflected on the

moon, whence a comparison might be made between the light of the sun and

that of the earth. Hence also it might be known whether the terrestrial

hemispheres successively visible from the moon are more or less

luminous, according as they contain more land or water, and at the same

time it might be possible to appreciate the more or less cloudy or clear

state of our atmosphere, so that in time we might ultimately find in the

lumière cendré of the moon data upon the mean diaphaneity of different

terrestrial hemispheres which are of different temperatures.

It is found by experience that heat is developed in opaque and

translucent substances by their absorption of solar light, but that the

sun’s rays do not sensibly alter the temperature of perfectly

transparent bodies through which they pass. As the temperature of the

pellucid planetary space can be but little affected by the passage of

the sun’s light and heat, neither can it be sensibly raised by the heat

now radiated from the earth.

Doubtless the radiation of all the bodies in the universe maintains the

ethereal medium at a higher temperature than it would otherwise have,

and must eventually increase it, but by a quantity so evanescent that it

is hardly possible to conceive a time when a change will become

perceptible.

The temperature of space being so low as -239° Fahrenheit, it becomes a

matter of no small interest to ascertain whether the earth may not be

ultimately reduced by radiation to the temperature of the surrounding

medium; what the sources of heat are; and whether they be sufficient to

compensate the loss, and to maintain the earth in a state fit for the

support of animal and vegetable life in time to come. All observations

that have been made under the surface of the ground concur in proving

that there is a stratum at the depth of from 40 to 100 feet throughout

the whole earth where the temperature is invariable at all times and

seasons, and which differs but little from the mean annual temperature

of the country above. According to M. Boussingault, that stratum at the

equator is at the depth of little more than a foot in places sheltered

from the direct rays of the sun; but in our climates it is at a much

greater depth. In the course of more than half a century the temperature

of the earth at the depth of 90 feet, in the cellars of the Observatory

at Paris, has never been above or below 53° of Fahrenheit’s thermometer,

which is only 2° above the mean annual temperature at Paris. This zone,

unaffected by the sun’s rays from above, or by the internal heat from

below, serves as an origin whence the effects of the external heat are

estimated on one side, and the internal temperature of the globe on the

other.

As early as the year 1740 M. Gensanne discovered in the lead-mines of

Giromagny, in the Vosges mountains, three leagues from Béfort, that the

heat of the ground increases with the depth below the zone of constant

temperature. A vast number of observations have been made since that

time, in the mines of Europe and America, by MM. Saussure, Daubuisson,

Humboldt, Cordier, Fox, Reich, and others, which agree, without an

exception, in proving that the temperature of the earth becomes higher

in descending towards its centre. The greatest depth that has been

attained is in the silver-mine of Guanaxato, in Mexico, where M. de

Humboldt found a temperature of 98° at the depth of 285 fathoms, the

mean annual temperature of the country being only 61°. Next to that is

the Dalcoath copper-mine, in Cornwall, where Mr. Fox’s thermometer stood

at 68° in a hole in the rock at the depth of 230 fathoms, and at 82° in

water at the depth of 240 fathoms, the mean annual temperature at the

surface being about 50°. But it is needless to multiply examples, all of

which concur in showing that there is a very great difference between

the temperature in the interior of the earth and at its surface. Mr.

Fox’s observations on the temperature of springs which rise at profound

depths in mines afford the strongest testimony. He found considerable

streams flowing into some of the Cornish mines at the temperature of 80°

or 90°, which is about 30° or 40° above that of the surface, and also

ascertained that nearly 2,000,000 gallons of water are daily pumped from

the bottom of the Poldice mine, which is 176 fathoms deep at 90° or

100°. As this is higher than the warmth of the human body, Mr. Fox

justly observes that it amounts to a proof that the increased

temperature cannot proceed from the persons of the workmen employed in

the mines. Neither can the warmth of mines be attributed to the

condensation of the currents of air which ventilate them. Mr. Fox, whose

opinion is of high authority in these matters, states that, even in the

deepest mines, the condensation of the air would not raise the

temperature more than 5° or 6°; and that, if the heat could be

attributed to this cause, the seasons would sensibly affect the

temperature of mines, which it appears they do not where the depth is

great. Besides, the Cornish mines are generally ventilated by numerous

shafts opening into the galleries from the surface or from a higher

level. The air circulates freely in these, descending in some shafts and

ascending in others. In all cases Mr. Fox found that the upward currents

are of a higher temperature than the descending currents; so much so,

that in winter the moisture is often frozen in the latter to a

considerable depth; the circulation of air, therefore, tends to cool the

mine instead of increasing the heat. Mr. Fox has also removed the

objections arising from the comparatively low temperature of the water

in the shafts of abandoned mines, by showing that observations in them,

from a variety of circumstances which he enumerates, are too discordant

to furnish any conclusion as to the actual heat of the earth. The high

temperature of mines might be attributed to the effects of the fires,

candles, and gunpowder used by the miners, did not a similar increase

obtain in deep wells, and in borings to great depths in search of water,

where no such causes of disturbance occur. In a well dug with a view to

discover salt in the canton of Berne, and long deserted, M. de Saussure

had the most complete evidence of increasing heat. The same has been

confirmed by the temperature of many wells, both in France and England,

especially by the Artesian wells, so named from a peculiar method of

raising water first resorted to in Artois, and since become very

general. An Artesian well consists of a shaft a few inches in diameter,

bored into the earth till a spring is found. To prevent the water being

carried off by the adjacent strata, a tube is let down which exactly

fills the bore from top to bottom, in which the water rises pure to the

surface. It is clear the water could not rise unless it had previously

descended from high ground through the interior of the earth to the

bottom of the well. It partakes of the temperature of the strata through

which it passes, and in every instance has been warmer in proportion to

the depth of the well; but it is evident that the law of increase cannot

be obtained in this manner. Perhaps the most satisfactory experiments on

record are those made by MM. Auguste de la Rive and F. Marcet during the

year 1833, in a boring for water about a league from Geneva, at a place

318 feet above the level of the lake. The depth of the bore was 727

feet, and the diameter only between four and five inches. No spring was

ever found; but the shaft filled with mud, from the moisture of the

ground mixing with the earth displaced in boring, which was peculiarly

favourable for the experiments, as the temperature at each depth may be

considered to be that of the particular stratum. In this case, where

none of the ordinary causes of disturbance could exist, and where every

precaution was employed by scientific and experienced observers, the

temperature was found to increase regularly and uniformly with the depth

at the rate of about 1° of Fahrenheit for every 52 feet. Professor Reich

of Freyberg has found that the mean of a great number of observations

both in mines and wells is 1° of Fahrenheit for every 55 feet of depth;

and from M. Arago’s observations in the Grenelle Artesian well at Paris,

the increase is 1° of Fahrenheit for every 45 feet. Though there can be

no doubt as to the increase of temperature in penetrating the crust of

the earth, there is still much uncertainty as to the law of increase,

which varies with the nature of the soil and other local circumstances;

but, on an average, it has been estimated at the rate of 1° for every 50

or 60 feet, which corresponds with the observations of MM. Marcet and De

la Rive. In consequence of the rapid increase of internal heat, thermal

springs, or such as are independent of volcanic action, rising from a

great depth, must necessarily be very rare and of a high temperature;

and it is actually found that none are so low as 68° of Fahrenheit; that

of Chaudes Aigues, in Auvergne, is about 136°. In many places warm water

from Artesian wells will probably come into use for domestic purposes,

and it is even now employed in manufactories near Stutgardt, in Alsace,

&c.

It is hardly to be expected that at present any information with regard

to the actual internal temperature of the earth should be obtained from

that of the ocean, on account of the mobility of fluids, by which the

colder masses sink downwards, while those that are warmer rise to the

surface. Nevertheless, it may be stated that the temperature of the sea

decreases with the depth between the tropics; while, on the contrary,

all our northern navigators found that the temperature increases with

the depth in the polar seas. The change takes place about the 70th

parallel of latitude. Some ages hence, however, it may be known whether

the earth has arrived at a permanent state as to heat, by comparing

secular observations of the temperature of the ocean if made at a great

distance from the land.

Should the earth’s temperature increase at the rate of 1° for every 50

feet, it is clear that at the depth of 200 miles the hardest substances

must be in a state of fusion, and our globe must in that case either be

encompassed by a stratum of melted lava at that depth, or it must be a

ball of liquid fire 7600 miles in diameter, enclosed in a thin coating

of solid matter; for 200 miles are nothing when compared with the size

of the earth. No doubt the form of the earth, as determined by the

pendulum and arcs of the meridian, as well as by the motions of the

moon, indicates original fluidity and subsequent consolidation and

reduction of temperature by radiation; but whether the law of increasing

temperature is uniform at still greater depths than those already

attained by man, it is impossible to say. At all events, internal

fluidity is not inconsistent with the present state of the earth’s

surface, since earthy matter is as bad a conductor of heat as lava,

which often retains its heat at a very little depth for years after its

surface is cool. Whatever the radiation of the earth might have been in

former times, certain it is that it goes on very slowly in our days; for

M. Fourier has computed that the central heat is decreasing from

radiation by only about the 1/30000th part of a degree in a century. If

so, there can be no doubt that it will ultimately be dissipated; but as

far as regards animal and vegetable life, it is of very little

consequence whether the centre of our planet be liquid fire or ice,

since its condition in either case could have no sensible effect on the

climate at its surface. The internal fire does not even impart heat

enough to melt the snow at the poles, though nearer to the centre than

any other part of the globe.

The immense extent of active volcanic fire is one of the causes of heat

which must not be overlooked.

The range of the Andes from Chile to the north of Mexico, probably from

Cape Horn to Behring Straits, is one vast district of igneous action,

including the Caribbean and the West Indian Islands on one hand; and

stretching quite across the Pacific Ocean, through the Polynesian

Archipelago, the New Hebrides, the Georgian and Friendly Islands, on the

other. Another chain begins with the Aleutian Islands, extends to

Kamtschatka, and from thence passes through the Kurile, Japanese, and

Philippine Islands, to the Moluccas, whence it spreads with terrific

violence through the Indian Archipelago, even to the Bay of Bengal.

Volcanic action may again be followed from the entrance of the Persian

Gulf to Madagascar, Bourbon, the Canaries, and Azores. Thence a

continuous igneous region extends through about 1000 geographical miles

to the Caspian Sea, including the Mediterranean, and extending north and

south between the 35th and 40th parallels of latitude; and in central

Asia a volcanic region occupies 2500 square geographical miles. The

volcanic fires are developed in Iceland in tremendous force; and the

antarctic land discovered by Sir James Ross is an igneous formation of

the boldest structure, where a volcano in high activity rises 12,000

feet above the perpetual ice of these polar deserts, and within 19-1/2°

of the south pole. Throughout this vast portion of the world the

subterraneous fire is often intensely active, producing such violent

earthquakes and eruptions that their effects, accumulated during

millions of years, may account for many of the great geological changes

of igneous origin that have already taken place in the earth, and may

occasion others not less remarkable, should time—that essential element

in the vicissitudes of the globe—be granted, and their energy last.

Sir Charles Lyell, who has shown the power of existing causes with great

ingenuity, estimates that on an average twenty eruptions take place

annually in different parts of the world; and many must occur or have

happened, even on the most extensive and awful scale, among people

equally incapable of estimating their effects and of recording them. We

should never have known the extent of the fearful eruption which took

place in the island of Sumbawa, in 1815, but for the accident of Sir

Stamford Raffles having been governor of Java at the time. It began on

the 5th of April, and did not entirely cease till July. The ground was

shaken through an area of 1000 miles in circumference; the tremors were

felt in Java, the Moluccas, a great part of Celebes, Sumatra, and

Borneo. The detonations were heard in Sumatra, at the distance of 970

geographical miles in a straight line; and at Ternate, 720 miles in the

opposite direction. The most dreadful whirlwinds carried men and cattle

into the air; and with the exception of 26 persons, the whole population

of the island perished to the amount of 12,000. Ashes were carried 300

miles to Java in such quantities that the darkness during the day was

more profound than ever had been witnessed in the most obscure night.

The face of the country was changed by the streams of lava, and by the

upheaving and sinking of the soil. The town of Tomboro was submerged,

and water stood to the depth of 18 feet in places which had been dry

land. Ships grounded where they had previously anchored, and others

could hardly penetrate the mass of cinders which floated on the surface

of the sea for several miles to the depth of two feet. A catastrophe

similar to this, though of less magnitude, took place in the island of

Bali in 1808, which was not heard of in Europe till years afterwards.

The eruption of Coseguina in the Bay of Fonseca, which began on the 19th

of January, 1835, and lasted many days, was even more dreadful and

extensive in its effects than that of Sumbawa. The ashes during this

eruption were carried by the upper current of the atmosphere as far

north as Chiassa, which is upwards of 400 leagues to the windward of

that volcano. Many volcanoes supposed to be extinct have all at once

burst out with inconceivable violence. Witness Vesuvius, on historical

record; and the volcano in the island of St. Vincent in our own days,

whose crater was lined with large trees, and which had not been active

in the memory of man. Vast tracts are of volcanic origin where volcanoes

have ceased to exist for ages. Whence it may be inferred that in some

places the subterraneous fires are in the highest state of activity, in

some they are inert, and in others they appear to be extinct. Yet there

are few countries that are not subject to earthquakes of greater or less

intensity; the tremors are propagated like a sonorous undulation to such

distances that it is impossible to say in what point they originate. In

some recent instances their power must have been tremendous. In South

America, so lately as 1822, an area of 100,000 square miles, which is

equal in extent to the half of France, was raised several feet above its

present level—a most able account of which is given in the ‘Transactions

of the Geological Society,’ by an esteemed friend of the author’s, the

late Mrs. Graham, who was present during the whole time of that

formidable earthquake, which recurred at short intervals for more than

two months, and who possessed talents to appreciate, and had

opportunities of observing, its effects under the most favourable

circumstances at Valparaiso, and for miles along the coast where it was

most intense. A considerable elevation of the land has again taken place

along the coast of Chile, in consequence of the violent earthquake which

happened on the 20th of February, 1835. In 1819 a ridge of land

stretching for 50 miles across the delta of the Indus, 16 feet broad,

was raised 10 feet above the plain. The reader is referred to Sir

Charles Lyell’s excellent ‘Principles of Geology,’ already mentioned,

for most interesting details of the phenomena and extensive effects of

volcanoes and earthquakes, too numerous to find a place here. It may

however be mentioned that innumerable earthquakes are from time to time

shaking the solid crust of the globe, and carrying destruction to

distant regions, progressively though slowly accomplishing the great

work of change. A most disastrous instance took place on the 15th of

December, 1857, in the Neapolitan provinces of La Basilicata and

Principato Citeriore, where the destruction was extensive and terrible;

the number of victims, according to the official accounts, being

returned at upwards of ten thousand. These terrible engines of ruin,

fitful and uncertain as they may seem, must, like all durable phenomena,

have a law which may in time be discovered by long-continued and

accurate observations.

The shell of volcanic fire that girds the globe at a small depth below

our feet has been attributed to different causes. By some it is supposed

to originate in an ocean of incandescent matter, still existing in the

central abyss of the earth. Some conceive it to be superficial, and due

to chemical action, in strata at no very great depth when compared with

the size of the globe. The more so as matter on a most extensive scale

is passing from old into new combinations, which, if rapidly effected,

are capable of producing the most intense heat. According to others,

electricity, which is so universally diffused in all its forms

throughout the earth, if not the immediate cause of the volcanic

phenomena, at least determines the chemical affinities that produce

them. It is clear that a subject so involved in mystery must give rise

to much speculation, in which every hypothesis is attended with

difficulties that observation alone can remove.

But the views of Mr. Babbage and Sir John Herschel on the general cause

of volcanic action, and the changes in the equilibrium of the internal

heat of the globe, accord more with the laws of mechanics and radiant

heat than any that have been proposed. The theory of these distinguished

philosophers, formed independently of each other, is equally consistent

with observed phenomena, whether the earth be a solid crust encompassing

a nucleus of liquid lava, or that there is merely a vast reservoir or

stratum of melted matter at a moderate depth below the superficial

crust. The author is indebted to the kindness of Sir Charles Lyell for

the perusal of a most interesting letter from Sir John Herschel, in

which he states his views on the subject.

Supposing that the globe is merely a solid crust, resting upon fluid or

semi-fluid matter, whether extending to the centre or not, the transfer

of pressure from one part of its surface to another by the degradation

of existing continents, and the formation of new ones, would be

sufficient to subvert the equilibrium of heat in the interior, and

occasion volcanic eruptions. For, since the internal heat of the earth

is transmitted outwards by radiation, an accession of new matter on any

part of the surface, like an addition of clothing, by keeping it in,

would raise the temperature of the strata below, and in the course of

ages would even reduce those at a great depth to a state of fusion. Some

of the substances might be converted into gases; and should the

accumulation of new matter take place at the bottom of the sea, as is

generally the case, this lava would be mixed with water in a state of

ignition in consequence of the enormous pressure of the ocean, and of

the newly superimposed matter which would prevent it from expanding into

steam. Now Sir Charles Lyell has shown, with his usual talent, that the

quantity of matter carried down by rivers from the surface of the

continents is comparatively trifling, and that the great transfer to the

bottom of the ocean is produced at the coast-line by the action of the

sea; hence, says Sir John Herschel, “the greatest accumulation of local

pressure is in the central area of the deep sea, while the greatest

local relief takes place along the abraded coast-lines. Here then should

occur the chief volcanic vents.” As the crust of the earth is much

weaker on the coasts than elsewhere, it is more easily ruptured, and, as

Mr. Babbage observes, immense rents might be produced there by its

contraction in cooling down after being deprived of a portion of its

original thickness. The pressure on the bottom of the ocean would force

a column of lava mixed with ignited water and gas to rise through an

opening thus formed, and, says Sir John Herschel, “when the column

attains such a height that the ignited water can become steam, the joint

specific gravity of the column is suddenly diminished, and up comes a

jet of mixed steam and lava, till so much has escaped that the matter

deposited at the bottom of the ocean takes a fresh bearing, when the

evacuation ceases and the crack becomes sealed up.”

This theory perfectly accords with the phenomena of nature, since there

are very few active volcanoes at a distance from the sea, and the

exceptions that do occur are generally near lakes, or they are connected

with volcanoes on the maritime coasts. Many break out even in the bottom

of the ocean, probably owing to some of the supports of the superficial

crust giving way, so that the steam and lava are forced up through the

fissures.

Finally, Mr. Babbage observes that, “in consequence of changes

continually going on, by the destruction of forests, the filling up of

seas, the wearing down of elevated lands, the heat radiated from the

earth’s surface varies considerably at different periods. In consequence

of this variation, and also in consequence of the covering up of the

bottom of the sea by the detritus of the land, the surfaces of equal

temperature within the earth are continually changing their form, and

exposing thick beds near the exterior to alterations of temperature. The

expansion and contraction of these strata may form rents and veins,

produce earthquakes, determine volcanic eruptions, elevate continents,

and, possibly, raise mountain chains.”

The numerous vents for the internal heat formed by volcanoes, hot

springs, and the emission of steam, so frequent in volcanic regions, no

doubt maintain the tranquillity of the interior fluid mass, which seems

to be perfectly inert unless when put in motion by unequal pressure.

But, to whatever cause the increasing heat of the earth and the

subterranean fires may ultimately be referred, it is certain that,

except in some local instances, they have no sensible effect on the

temperature of its surface. It may therefore be concluded that the heat

of the earth, above the zone of uniform temperature, is entirely owing

to the sun.

The power of the solar rays depends much upon the manner in which they

fall, as we readily perceive from the different climates on our globe.

Although the sun is about three millions of miles nearer to the earth in

winter than in summer, his rays strike the atmosphere in the northern

hemisphere so obliquely that it absorbs a much greater quantity of heat

than when they are more direct (N. 217). Indeed it is so great that,

when the sun has an altitude of 30°, one half of his heat is absorbed by

the atmosphere, and it increases very rapidly as he sinks towards the

horizon. However, that heat is not lost: it is most beneficial to the

earth, being really the heat which supplies the greatest part of that

which is radiated into space during the absence of the sun. Professor

Dove has shown, by taking at all seasons the mean of the temperatures of

points on the earth’s surface diametrically opposite to each other, that

the average temperature of the whole earth’s surface in June, when we

are farthest from the sun, considerably exceeds that in December, when

we are nearest to him, owing to the excess of water in the southern

hemisphere, and that of land in the northern, which gives a general

insular climate to the former, and a continental climate to the latter.

The observations of the north polar navigators, and those of Sir John

Herschel at the Cape of Good Hope, show that the direct heating

influence of the solar rays is greatest at the equator, and that it

diminishes gradually as the latitude increases. At the equator the

maximum is 48-3/4°, while in Europe it has never exceeded 29-1/2°.

M. Pouillet has estimated with singular ingenuity, from a series of

observations made by himself, that the whole quantity of heat which the

earth receives annually from the sun is such as would be sufficient to

melt a stratum of ice covering the whole globe 46 feet deep. Part of

this heat is radiated back into space; but by far the greater part

descends into the earth during the summer, towards the zone of uniform

temperature, whence it returns to the surface in the course of the

winter, and tempers the cold of the ground and the atmosphere in its

passage to the ethereal regions, where it is lost, or rather where it

combines with the radiation from the other bodies of the universe in

maintaining the temperature of space. The sun’s power being greatest

between the tropics, the heat sinks deeper there than elsewhere, and the

depth gradually diminishes towards the poles; but the heat is also

transmitted laterally from the warmer to the colder strata north and

south of the equator, and aids in tempering the severity of the polar

regions.

The mean heat of the earth, above the stratum of constant temperature,

is determined from that of springs; and, if the spring be on elevated

ground, the temperature is reduced by computation to what it would be at

the level of the sea, assuming that the heat of the soil varies

according to the same law as the heat of the atmosphere, which is about

1° of Fahrenheit’s thermometer for every 333·7 feet. From a comparison

of the temperature of numerous springs with that of the air, Sir David

Brewster concludes that there is a particular line passing nearly

through Berlin, at which the temperature of springs and that of the

atmosphere coincide; that in approaching the arctic circle the

temperature of springs is always higher than that of the air, while,

proceeding towards the equator, it is lower.

Since the warmth of the superficial strata of the earth decreases from

the equator to the poles, there are many places in both hemispheres

where the ground has the same mean temperature. If lines were drawn

through all those points in the upper strata of the globe which have the

same mean annual temperature, they would be nearly parallel to the

equator between the tropics, and would become more and more irregular

and sinuous towards the poles. These are called isogeothermal lines. A

variety of local circumstances disturb their parallelism, even between

the tropics.

The temperature of the ground at the equator is lower on the coasts and

islands than in the interior of continents; the warmest part is in the

interior of Africa; but it is obviously affected by the nature of the

soil, especially if it be volcanic.

Much has been done to ascertain the manner in which heat is distributed

over the surface of our planet, and the variations of climate, which, in

a general view, mean every change of the atmosphere, such as of

temperature, humidity, variations of barometric pressure, purity of air,

the serenity of the heavens, the effects of winds, and electric tension.

Temperature depends upon the property which all bodies possess, more or

less, of perpetually absorbing and emitting or radiating heat. When the

interchange is equal, the temperature of a body remains the same; but,

when the radiation exceeds the absorption, it becomes colder, and _vice

versâ_. In order to determine the distribution of heat over the surface

of the earth, it is necessary to find a standard by which the

temperature in different latitudes may be compared. For that purpose it

is requisite to ascertain, by experiment, the mean temperature of the

day, of the month, and of the year, at as many places as possible

throughout the earth. The annual average temperature may be found by

adding the mean temperatures of all the months in the year, and dividing

the sum by twelve. The average of ten or fifteen years will give it

approximately; for, although the temperature in any place maybe subject

to very great variations, yet it never deviates more than a few degrees

from its mean state, which consequently offers a good standard of

comparison. As a standard, however, much greater accuracy is required.

If climate depended solely upon the heat of the sun, all places having

the same latitude would have the same mean annual temperature. The

motion of the sun in the ecliptic, indeed, occasions perpetual

variations in the length of the day, and in the direction of the rays

with regard to the earth; yet, as the cause is periodic, the mean annual

temperature from the sun’s motion alone must be constant in each

parallel of latitude; for it is evident that the accumulation of heat in

the long days of summer, which is but little diminished by radiation

during the short nights, is balanced by the small quantity of heat

received during the short days in winter, and its radiation in the long,

frosty, and clear nights. In fact, if the globe were everywhere on a

level with the surface of the sea, and of uniform substance, so as to

absorb and radiate heat equally, the mean heat of the sun would be

regularly distributed over its surface in zones of equal annual

temperature parallel to the equator, from which it would decrease to

each pole as the square of the cosine of the latitude; and its quantity

would only depend upon the altitude of the sun and atmospheric currents.

The distribution of heat, however, in the same parallel, is very

irregular in all latitudes except between the tropics, where the

isothermal lines, or the lines passing through places of equal mean

annual temperature, are more nearly parallel to the equator. The causes

of disturbance are very numerous; but such as have the greatest

influence, according to M. de Humboldt, to whom we are indebted for the

greater part of what is known on the subject, are the elevation of the

continents, the distribution of land and water over the surface of the

globe exposing different absorbing and radiating powers; the variations

in the surface of the land, as forests, sandy deserts, verdant plains,

rocks, &c.; mountain-chains covered with masses of snow, which diminish

the temperature; the reverberation of the sun’s rays in the valleys,

which increases it; and the interchange of currents, both of air and

water, which mitigates the rigour of climates; the warm currents from

the equator softening the severity of the polar frosts, and the cold

currents from the poles tempering the intense heat of the equatorial

regions. To these may be added cultivation, though its influence extends

over but a small portion of the globe, only a fourth part of the land

being inhabited.

Temperature decreases with the height above the level of the sea, as

well as with the latitude. The air in the higher regions of the

atmosphere is much cooler than that below, because the warm air expands

as it rises, by which its capacity for heat is increased, a great

proportion becomes latent or absorbed, and less of it sensible. A

portion of air at the surface of the earth whose temperature is 70° of

Fahrenheit, if carried to the height of two miles and a half, would

expand so much that its temperature would be reduced 50°; and in the

ethereal regions the temperature is 239° below the zero point of

Fahrenheit.

The height at which snow lies perpetually decreases from the equator to

the poles, and is higher in summer than in winter; but it varies from

many circumstances. Snow rarely falls when the cold is intense and the

atmosphere dry. Extensive forests produce moisture by their evaporation;

and high table-lands, on the contrary, dry and warm the air, because the

air at great elevations is too rare to absorb much of the sun’s heat. In

the Cordilleras of the Andes, plains of only twenty-five square leagues

from their extent raise the temperature as much as 3° or 4° above what

is found at the same altitude on the rapid declivity of a mountain,

consequently the line of perpetual snow varies according as one or other

of these causes prevails. Aspect in general has also a great influence;

yet the line of perpetual snow is much higher on the northern than on

the southern side of the Himalaya, partly because the air is nearly

deprived of its moisture by precipitation before it arrives at the

northern side of the mountains. On the whole, it appears that the mean

height between the tropics at which the snow lies perpetually is about

15,207 feet above the level of the sea; whereas snow does not cover the

ground continually at the level of the ocean till near the north pole.

In the southern hemisphere, however, the cold is greater than in the

northern. In Sandwich Land, between the 54th and 58th degrees of

latitude, perpetual snow and ice extend to the sea-level; and in the

island of S. Georgia, in the 53rd degree of south latitude, which

corresponds with the latitude of the central counties of England,

perpetual snow descends even to the level of the ocean. It has been

shown that this excess of cold in the southern hemisphere cannot be

attributed to the winter being longer than ours by 7-3/4 days. It is

probably owing to the open sea surrounding the south pole, which permits

the icebergs to descend to a lower latitude by 10° than they do in the

northern hemisphere, on account of the numerous obstructions opposed to

them by the islands and continents about the north pole. Icebergs from

the Arctic seas seldom float farther to the south than the Azores;

whereas those that come from the south pole descend to as low a latitude

as that of the Cape of Good Hope.

The influence of mountain-chains does not wholly depend upon the line of

perpetual congelation. They attract and condense the vapours floating in

the air, and send them down in torrents of rain. They radiate heat into

the atmosphere at a lower elevation, and increase the temperature of the

valleys by the reflection of the sun’s rays, and by the shelter they

afford against prevailing winds. But, on the contrary, one of the most

general and powerful causes of cold arising from the vicinity of

mountains is the freezing currents of wind which rush from their lofty

peaks along the rapid declivities, chilling the surrounding valleys:

such is the cutting north wind called the bise in Switzerland.

Next to elevation, the difference in the radiating and absorbing powers

of the sea and land has the greatest influence in disturbing the regular

distribution of heat. The extent of the dry land is not above the fourth

part of that of the ocean; so that the general temperature of the

atmosphere, regarded as the result of the partial temperatures of the

whole surface of the globe, is most powerfully modified by the sea.

Besides, the ocean acts more uniformly on the atmosphere than the

diversified surface of the solid mass does, both by the equality of its

curvature and its homogeneity. In opaque substances the accumulation of

heat is confined to the stratum nearest the surface. The seas become

less heated at their surface than the land, because the solar rays,

before being extinguished, penetrate the transparent liquid to a greater

depth and in greater numbers than in the opaque masses. On the other

hand, water has a considerable radiating power, which, together with

evaporation, would reduce the surface of the ocean to a very low

temperature, if the cold particles did not sink to the bottom on account

of their superior density. The seas preserve a considerable portion of

the heat they receive in summer, and from their saltness do not freeze

so soon as fresh water. So that, in consequence of all these

circumstances, the ocean is not subject to such variations of heat as

the land, and, by imparting its temperature to the winds and by its

currents, it diminishes the rigour of climate on the coasts and in the

islands, which are never subject to such extremes of heat and cold as

are experienced in the interior of continents, though they are liable to

fogs and rain from the evaporation of the adjacent seas. On each side of

the equator to the 48th degree of latitude, the surface of the ocean is

in general warmer than the air above it. The mean of the difference of

the temperature at noon and midnight is about 1°·37, the greatest

deviation never exceeding from 0°·36 to 2°·16, which is much cooler than

the air over the land.

On land the temperature depends upon the nature of the soil and its

products, its habitual moisture or dryness. From the eastern extremity

of the Sahara desert quite across Africa, the soil is almost entirely

barren sand; and the Sahara desert itself extends over an area of

194,000 square leagues, equal to twice the area of the Mediterranean

Sea, and raises the temperature of the air by radiation from 90° to

100°, which must have a most extensive influence. On the contrary,

vegetation cools the air by evaporation and the apparent radiation of

cold from the leaves of plants, because they absorb more caloric than

they give out. The graminiferous plains of South America cover an extent

ten times greater than France, occupying no less than about 50,000

square leagues, which is more than the whole chain of the Andes, and all

the scattered mountain-groups of Brazil. These, together with the plains

of North America and the steppes of Europe and Asia, must have an

extensive cooling effect on the atmosphere if it be considered that in

calm and serene nights they cause the thermometer to descend 12° or 14°,

and that in the meadows and heaths in England the absorption of heat by

the grass is sufficient to cause the temperature to sink to the point of

congelation during the night for ten months in the year. Forests cool

the air also by shading the ground from the rays of the sun, and by

evaporation from the boughs. Hales found that the leaves of a single

plant of helianthus three feet high exposed nearly forty feet of

surface; and, if it be considered that the woody regions of the river

Amazons, and the higher part of the Orinoco, occupy an area of 260,000

square leagues, some idea may be formed of the torrents of vapour which

rise from the leaves of the forests all over the globe. However, the

frigorific effects of their evaporation are counteracted in some measure

by the perfect calm which reigns in the tropical wildernesses. The

innumerable rivers, lakes, pools, and marshes interspersed through the

continents absorb caloric, and cool the air by evaporation; but, on

account of the chilled and dense particles sinking to the bottom, deep

water diminishes the cold of winter, so long as ice is not formed.

In consequence of the difference in the radiating and absorbing powers

of the sea and land, their configuration greatly modifies the

distribution of heat over the surface of the globe. Under the equator

only one-sixth part of the circumference is land; and the superficial

extent of land in the northern and southern hemispheres is in the

proportion of three to one. The effect of this unequal division is

greater in the temperate than in the torrid zones, for the area of land

in the northern temperate zone is to that in the southern as thirteen to

one, whereas the proportion of land between the equator and each tropic

is as five to four. It is a curious fact, noticed by Mr. Gardner, that

only one twenty-seventh part of the land of the globe has land

diametrically opposite to it. This disproportionate arrangement of the

solid part of the globe has a powerful influence on the temperature of

the southern hemisphere. But, besides these greater modifications, the

peninsulas, promontories, and capes, running out into the ocean,

together with bays and internal seas, all affect temperature. To these

may be added the position of continental masses with regard to the

cardinal points. All these diversities of land and water influence

temperature by the agency of the winds. On this account the temperature

is lower on the eastern coasts both of the New and Old World than on the

western; for, considering Europe as an island, the general temperature

is mild in proportion as the aspect is open to the Atlantic Ocean, the

superficial temperature of which, as far north as the 45th and 50th

degrees of latitude, does not fall below 48° or 51° of Fahrenheit, even

in the middle of winter. On the contrary, the cold of Russia arises from

its exposure to the northern and eastern winds. But the European part of

that empire has a less rigorous climate than the Asiatic, because it

does not extend to so high a latitude.

The interposition of the atmosphere modifies all the effects of the

sun’s heat. The earth communicates its temperature so slowly, that M.

Arago has occasionally found as much as from 14° to 18° of difference

between the heat of the soil and that of the air two or three inches

above it.

The circumstances which have been enumerated, and many more, concur in

disturbing the regular distribution of heat over the globe, and occasion

numberless local irregularities. Nevertheless the mean annual

temperature becomes gradually lower from the equator to the poles. But

the diminution of mean heat is most rapid between the 40th and 45th

degrees of latitude both in Europe and America, which accords perfectly

with theory; whence it appears that the variation in the square of the

cosine of the latitude (N. 127), which expresses the law of the change

of temperature, is a maximum towards the 45th degree of latitude. The

mean annual temperature under the equator in America is about 81-1/2° of

Fahrenheit: in Africa it is said to be nearly 83°. The difference

probably arises from the winds of Siberia and Canada, whose chilly

influence is sensibly felt in Asia and America, even within 18° of the

equator.

The isothermal lines are nearly parallel to the equator, till about the

22nd degree of latitude on each side of it, where they begin to lose

their parallelism, and continue to do so more and more as the latitude

augments. With regard to the northern hemisphere, the isothermal line of

59° of Fahrenheit passes between Rome and Florence in latitude 43°; and

near Raleigh in North Carolina, latitude 36°: that of 50° of equal

annual temperature runs through the Netherlands, latitude 51°; and near

Boston in the United States, latitude 42-1/2°: that of 41° passes near

Stockholm, latitude 59-1/2°; and St. George’s Bay, Newfoundland,

latitude 48°: and lastly, the line of 32°, the freezing point of water,

passes between Ulea in Lapland, latitude 66°, and Table Bay, on the

coast of Labrador, latitude 54°.

Thus it appears that the isothermal lines, which are nearly parallel to

the equator for about 22°, afterwards deviate more and more. From

observations made during the numerous voyages in the Arctic Seas, it is

found that the isothermal lines of Europe and America entirely separate

in the high latitudes, and surround two poles of maximum cold: one, in

79° N. lat. and 120° E. long., has a mean temperature of 2° Fahrenheit;

and the other, whose temperature was determined by Sir David Brewster to

be 3-1/2° Fahrenheit, from the observations of Sir Edward Parry is near

Melville Island. The pole of the earth’s rotation, whose mean

temperature is probably not below 15° Fahrenheit, is nearly midway

between the two; and the line which joins these points of maximum cold

is almost coincident with that diameter of the polar basin which bisects

it, and passes through its two great outlets into the Pacific and

Atlantic Oceans, a most remarkable feature, and strongly indicative of

the absence of land, and of the prevalence of a materially milder

climate in the polar Ocean, probably not under 15° Fahrenheit.[12] It is

believed that two corresponding poles of maximum cold exist in the

southern hemisphere, though observations are wanting to trace the course

of the southern isothermal lines with the same accuracy as the northern.

The isothermal lines, or such as pass through places where the mean

annual temperature of the air is the same, do not always coincide with

the isogeothermal lines, which are those passing through places where

the mean temperature of the ground is the same. Sir David Brewster, in

discussing this subject, finds that the isogeothermal lines are always

parallel to the isothermal lines; consequently the same general formula

will serve to determine both, since the difference is a constant

quantity obtained by observation, and depending upon the distance of the

place from the neutral isothermal line. These results are confirmed by

the observations of M. Kupffer of Kasan during his excursions to the

north, which show that the European and the American portions of the

isogeothermal line of 32° of Fahrenheit actually separate, and go round

the two poles of maximum cold. This traveller remarked, also, that the

temperature both of the air and of the soil decreases most rapidly

towards the 45th degree of latitude.

It is evident that places may have the same mean annual temperature, and

yet differ materially in climate. In one, the winters may be mild and

the summers cool; whereas another may experience the extremes of heat

and cold. Lines passing through places having the same mean summer or

winter temperature are neither parallel to the isothermal, the

geothermal lines, nor to one another, and they differ still more from

the parallels of latitude. In Europe, the latitude of two places which

have the same annual heat never differs more than 8° or 9°; whereas the

difference in the latitude of those having the same mean winter

temperature is sometimes as much as 18° or 19°. At Kasan, in the

interior of Russia, in latitude 55°·48, nearly the same with that of

Edinburgh, the mean annual temperature is about 37°·6; at Edinburgh it

is 47°·84. At Kasan the mean summer temperature is 64°·84, and that of

winter 2°·12; whereas at Edinburgh the mean summer temperature is

58°·28, and that of winter 38°·66. Whence it appears that the difference

of winter temperature is much greater than that of summer. At Quebec the

summers are as warm as those in Paris, and grapes sometimes ripen in the

open air: whereas the winters are as severe as in Petersburgh; the snow

lies five feet deep for several months, wheel carriages cannot be used,

the ice is too hard for skating, travelling is performed in sledges, and

frequently on the ice of the river St. Lawrence. The cold at Melville

Island on the 15th of January, 1820, according to Sir Edward Parry, was

55° below the zero of Fahrenheit’s thermometer; and when Dr. Kane was on

the northern coast of Greenland it was 70° below that point; yet the

summer heat during the day in these high latitudes is insupportable.

Observations tend to prove that all the climates of the earth are

stable, and that their vicissitudes are only periods or oscillations of

more or less extent, which vanish in the mean annual temperature of a

sufficient number of years. This constancy of the mean annual

temperature of the different places on the surface of the globe shows

that the same quantity of heat which is annually received by the earth

is annually radiated into space; and that would be the case even if the

quantity of heat emitted by the sun should vary with his spots, for, if

more were received, more would be radiated. Nevertheless, a variety of

causes may disturb the climate of a place; cultivation may make it

warmer; but it is at the expense of some other place, which becomes

colder in the same proportion. There may be a succession of cold summers

and mild winters, but in some other country the contrary takes place to

effect the compensation; wind, rain, snow, fog, and the other meteoric

phenomena, are the ministers employed to accomplish the changes. The

distribution of heat may vary with a variety of circumstances; but the

absolute quantity lost and gained by the whole earth in the course of a

year, if not invariably the same, is at least periodical.

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