A fact which will appeal to our readers on this side of the Atlantic is

the success of American astronomers. Sixty years ago it could not be

said that there was a well-known observatory on the American continent.

The cultivation of astronomy was confined to a professor here and

there, who seldom had anything better than a little telescope with

which he showed the heavenly bodies to his students. But during the

past thirty years all this has been changed. The total quantity of

published research is still less among us than on the continent of

Europe, but the number of men who have reached the highest success

among us may be judged by one fact. The Royal Astronomical Society of

England awards an annual medal to the English or foreign astronomer

deemed most worthy of it. The number of these medals awarded to

Americans within twenty-five years is about equal to the number awarded

to the astronomers of all other nations foreign to the English. That

this preponderance is not growing less is shown by the award of medals

to Americans in three consecutive years--1904, 1905, and 1906. The

recipients were Hale, Boss, and Campbell. Of the fifty foreign

associates chosen by this society for their eminence in astronomical

research, no less than eighteen--more than one-third--are Americans.

VII

LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE

So far as we can judge from what we see on our globe, the production of

life is one of the greatest and most incessant purposes of nature. Life

is absent only in regions of perpetual frost, where it never has an

opportunity to begin; in places where the temperature is near the

boiling-point, which is found to be destructive to it; and beneath the

earth's surface, where none of the changes essential to it can come

about. Within the limits imposed by these prohibitory conditions--that

is to say, within the range of temperature at which water retains its

liquid state, and in regions where the sun's rays can penetrate and

where wind can blow and water exist in a liquid form--life is the

universal rule. How prodigal nature seems to be in its production is

too trite a fact to be dwelt upon. We have all read of the millions of

germs which are destroyed for every one that comes to maturity. Even

the higher forms of life are found almost everywhere. Only small

islands have ever been discovered which were uninhabited, and animals

of a higher grade are as widely diffused as man.

If it would be going too far to claim that all conditions may have

forms of life appropriate to them, it would be going as much too far in

the other direction to claim that life can exist only with the precise

surroundings which nurture it on this planet. It is very remarkable in

this connection that while in one direction we see life coming to an

end, in the other direction we see it flourishing more and more up to

the limit. These two directions are those of heat and cold. We cannot

suppose that life would develop in any important degree in a region of

perpetual frost, such as the polar regions of our globe. But we do not

find any end to it as the climate becomes warmer. On the contrary,

every one knows that the tropics are the most fertile regions of the

globe in its production. The luxuriance of the vegetation and the

number of the animals continually increase the more tropical the

climate becomes. Where the limit may be set no one can say. But it

would doubtless be far above the present temperature of the equatorial

regions.

It has often been said that this does not apply to the human race, that

men lack vigor in the tropics. But human vigor depends on so many

conditions, hereditary and otherwise, that we cannot regard the

inferior development of humanity in the tropics as due solely to

temperature. Physically considered, no men attain a better development

than many tribes who inhabit the warmer regions of the globe. The

inferiority of the inhabitants of these regions in intellectual power

is more likely the result of race heredity than of temperature.

We all know that this earth on which we dwell is only one of countless

millions of globes scattered through the wilds of infinite space. So

far as we know, most of these globes are wholly unlike the earth, being

at a temperature so high that, like our sun, they shine by their own

light. In such worlds we may regard it as quite certain that no

organized life could exist. But evidence is continually increasing that

dark and opaque worlds like ours exist and revolve around their suns,

as the earth on which we dwell revolves around its central luminary.

Although the number of such globes yet discovered is not great, the

circumstances under which they are found lead us to believe that the

actual number may be as great as that of the visible stars which stud

the sky. If so, the probabilities are that millions of them are

essentially similar to our own globe. Have we any reason to believe

that life exists on these other worlds?

The reader will not expect me to answer this question positively. It

must be admitted that, scientifically, we have no light upon the

question, and therefore no positive grounds for reaching a conclusion.

We can only reason by analogy and by what we know of the origin and

conditions of life around us, and assume that the same agencies which

are at play here would be found at play under similar conditions in

other parts of the universe.

If we ask what the opinion of men has been, we know historically that

our race has, in all periods of its history, peopled other regions with

beings even higher in the scale of development than we are ourselves.

The gods and demons of an earlier age all wielded powers greater than

those granted to man--powers which they could use to determine human

destiny. But, up to the time that Copernicus showed that the planets

were other worlds, the location of these imaginary beings was rather

indefinite. It was therefore quite natural that when the moon and

planets were found to be dark globes of a size comparable with that of

the earth itself, they were made the habitations of beings like unto

ourselves.

The trend of modern discovery has been against carrying this view to

its extreme, as will be presently shown. Before considering the

difficulties in the way of accepting it to the widest extent, let us

enter upon some preliminary considerations as to the origin and

prevalence of life, so far as we have any sound basis to go upon.

A generation ago the origin of life upon our planet was one of the

great mysteries of science. All the facts brought out by investigation

into the past history of our earth seemed to show, with hardly the

possibility of a doubt, that there was a time when it was a fiery mass,

no more capable of serving as the abode of a living being than the

interior of a Bessemer steel furnace. There must therefore have been,

within a certain period, a beginning of life upon its surface. But, so

far as investigation had gone--indeed, so far as it has gone to the

present time--no life has been found to originate of itself. The living

germ seems to be necessary to the beginning of any living form. Whence,

then, came the first germ? Many of our readers may remember a

suggestion by Sir William Thomson, now Lord Kelvin, made twenty or

thirty years ago, that life may have been brought to our planet by the

falling of a meteor from space. This does not, however, solve the

difficulty--indeed, it would only make it greater. It still leaves open

the question how life began on the meteor; and granting this, why it

was not destroyed by the heat generated as the meteor passed through

the air. The popular view that life began through a special act of

creative power seemed to be almost forced upon man by the failure of

science to discover any other beginning for it. It cannot be said that

even to-day anything definite has been actually discovered to refute

this view. All we can say about it is that it does not run in with the

general views of modern science as to the beginning of things, and that

those who refuse to accept it must hold that, under certain conditions

which prevail, life begins by a very gradual process, similar to that

by which forms suggesting growth seem to originate even under

conditions so unfavorable as those existing in a bottle of acid.

But it is not at all necessary for our purpose to decide this question.

If life existed through a creative act, it is absurd to suppose that

that act was confined to one of the countless millions of worlds

scattered through space. If it began at a certain stage of evolution by

a natural process, the question will arise, what conditions are

favorable to the commencement of this process? Here we are quite

justified in reasoning from what, granting this process, has taken

place upon our globe during its past history. One of the most

elementary principles accepted by the human mind is that like causes

produce like effects. The special conditions under which we find life

to develop around us may be comprehensively summed up as the existence

of water in the liquid form, and the presence of nitrogen, free perhaps

in the first place, but accompanied by substances with which it may

form combinations. Oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen are, then, the

fundamental requirements. The addition of calcium or other forms of

matter necessary to the existence of a solid world goes without saying.

The question now is whether these necessary conditions exist in other

parts of the universe.

The spectroscope shows that, so far as the chemical elements go, other

worlds are composed of the same elements as ours. Hydrogen especially

exists everywhere, and we have reason to believe that the same is true

of oxygen and nitrogen. Calcium, the base of lime, is almost universal.

So far as chemical elements go, we may therefore take it for granted

that the conditions under which life begins are very widely diffused in

the universe. It is, therefore, contrary to all the analogies of nature

to suppose that life began only on a single world.

It is a scientific inference, based on facts so numerous as not to

admit of serious question, that during the history of our globe there

has been a continually improving development of life. As ages upon ages

pass, new forms are generated, higher in the scale than those which

preceded them, until at length reason appears and asserts its sway. In

a recent well-known work Alfred Russel Wallace has argued that this

development of life required the presence of such a rare combination of

conditions that there is no reason to suppose that it prevailed

anywhere except on our earth. It is quite impossible in the present

discussion to follow his reasoning in detail; but it seems to me

altogether inconclusive. Not only does life, but intelligence, flourish

on this globe under a great variety of conditions as regards

temperature and surroundings, and no sound reason can be shown why

under certain conditions, which are frequent in the universe,

intelligent beings should not acquire the highest development.

Now let us look at the subject from the view of the mathematical theory

of probabilities. A fundamental tenet of this theory is that no matter

how improbable a result may be on a single trial, supposing it at all

possible, it is sure to occur after a sufficient number of trials--and

over and over again if the trials are repeated often enough. For

example, if a million grains of corn, of which a single one was red,

were all placed in a pile, and a blindfolded person were required to

grope in the pile, select a grain, and then put it back again, the

chances would be a million to one against his drawing out the red

grain. If drawing it meant he should die, a sensible person would give

himself no concern at having to draw the grain. The probability of his

death would not be so great as the actual probability that he will

really die within the next twenty-four hours. And yet if the whole

human race were required to run this chance, it is certain that about

fifteen hundred, or one out of a million, of the whole human family

would draw the red grain and meet his death.

Now apply this principle to the universe. Let us suppose, to fix the

ideas, that there are a hundred million worlds, but that the chances

are one thousand to one against any one of these taken at random being

fitted for the highest development of life or for the evolution of

reason. The chances would still be that one hundred thousand of them

would be inhabited by rational beings whom we call human. But where are

we to look for these worlds? This no man can tell. We only infer from

the statistics of the stars--and this inference is fairly well

grounded--that the number of worlds which, so far as we know, may be

inhabited, are to be counted by thousands, and perhaps by millions.

In a number of bodies so vast we should expect every variety of

conditions as regards temperature and surroundings. If we suppose that

the special conditions which prevail on our planet are necessary to the

highest forms of life, we still have reason to believe that these same

conditions prevail on thousands of other worlds. The fact that we might

find the conditions in millions of other worlds unfavorable to life

would not disprove the existence of the latter on countless worlds

differently situated.

Coming down now from the general question to the specific one, we all

know that the only worlds the conditions of which can be made the

subject of observation are the planets which revolve around the sun,

and their satellites. The question whether these bodies are inhabited

is one which, of course, completely transcends not only our powers of

observation at present, but every appliance of research that we can

conceive of men devising. If Mars is inhabited, and if the people of

that planet have equal powers with ourselves, the problem of merely

producing an illumination which could be seen in our most powerful

telescope would be beyond all the ordinary efforts of an entire nation.

An unbroken square mile of flame would be invisible in our telescopes,

but a hundred square miles might be seen. We cannot, therefore, expect

to see any signs of the works of inhabitants even on Mars. All that we

can do is to ascertain with greater or less probability whether the

conditions necessary to life exist on the other planets of the system.

The moon being much the nearest to us of all the heavenly bodies, we

can pronounce more definitely in its case than in any other. We know

that neither air nor water exists on the moon in quantities sufficient

to be perceived by the most delicate tests at our command. It is

certain that the moon's atmosphere, if any exists, is less than the

thousandth part of the density of that around us. The vacuum is greater

than any ordinary air-pump is capable of producing. We can hardly

suppose that so small a quantity of air could be of any benefit

whatever in sustaining life; an animal that could get along on so

little could get along on none at all.

But the proof of the absence of life is yet stronger when we consider

the results of actual telescopic observation. An object such as an

ordinary city block could be detected on the moon. If anything like

vegetation were present on its surface, we should see the changes which

it would undergo in the course of a month, during one portion of which

it would be exposed to the rays of the unclouded sun, and during

another to the intense cold of space. If men built cities, or even

separate buildings the size of the larger ones on our earth, we might

see some signs of them.

In recent times we not only observe the moon with the telescope, but

get still more definite information by photography. The whole visible

surface has been repeatedly photographed under the best conditions. But

no change has been established beyond question, nor does the photograph

show the slightest difference of structure or shade which could be

attributed to cities or other works of man. To all appearances the

whole surface of our satellite is as completely devoid of life as the

lava newly thrown from Vesuvius. We next pass to the planets. Mercury,

the nearest to the sun, is in a position very unfavorable for

observation from the earth, because when nearest to us it is between us

and the sun, so that its dark hemisphere is presented to us. Nothing

satisfactory has yet been made out as to its condition. We cannot say

with certainty whether it has an atmosphere or not. What seems very

probable is that the temperature on its surface is higher than any of

our earthly animals could sustain. But this proves nothing.

We know that Venus has an atmosphere. This was very conclusively shown

during the transits of Venus in 1874 and 1882. But this atmosphere is

so filled with clouds or vapor that it does not seem likely that we

ever get a view of the solid body of the planet through it. Some

observers have thought they could see spots on Venus day after day,

while others have disputed this view. On the whole, if intelligent

inhabitants live there, it is not likely that they ever see sun or

stars. Instead of the sun they see only an effulgence in the vapory sky

which disappears and reappears at regular intervals.

When we come to Mars, we have more definite knowledge, and there seems

to be greater possibilities for life there than in the case of any

other planet besides the earth. The main reason for denying that life

such as ours could exist there is that the atmosphere of Mars is so

rare that, in the light of the most recent researches, we cannot be

fully assured that it exists at all. The very careful comparisons of

the spectra of Mars and of the moon made by Campbell at the Lick

Observatory failed to show the slightest difference in the two. If Mars

had an atmosphere as dense as ours, the result could be seen in the

darkening of the lines of the spectrum produced by the double passage

of the light through it. There were no lines in the spectrum of Mars

that were not seen with equal distinctness in that of the moon. But

this does not prove the entire absence of an atmosphere. It only shows

a limit to its density. It may be one-fifth or one-fourth the density

of that on the earth, but probably no more.

That there must be something in the nature of vapor at least seems to

be shown by the formation and disappearance of the white polar caps of

this planet. Every reader of astronomy at the present time knows that,

during the Martian winter, white caps form around the pole of the

planet which is turned away from the sun, and grow larger and larger

until the sun begins to shine upon them, when they gradually grow

smaller, and perhaps nearly disappear. It seems, therefore, fairly well

proved that, under the influence of cold, some white substance forms

around the polar regions of Mars which evaporates under the influence

of the sun's rays. It has been supposed that this substance is snow,

produced in the same way that snow is produced on the earth, by the

evaporation of water.

But there are difficulties in the way of this explanation. The sun

sends less than half as much heat to Mars as to the earth, and it does

not seem likely that the polar regions can ever receive enough of heat

to melt any considerable quantity of snow. Nor does it seem likely that

any clouds from which snow could fall ever obscure the surface of Mars.

But a very slight change in the explanation will make it tenable. Quite

possibly the white deposits may be due to something like hoar-frost

condensed from slightly moist air, without the actual production of

snow. This would produce the effect that we see. Even this explanation

implies that Mars has air and water, rare though the former may be. It

is quite possible that air as thin as that of Mars would sustain life

in some form. Life not totally unlike that on the earth may therefore

exist upon this planet for anything that we know to the contrary. More

than this we cannot say.

In the case of the outer planets the answer to our question must be in

the negative. It now seems likely that Jupiter is a body very much like

our sun, only that the dark portion is too cool to emit much, if any,

light. It is doubtful whether Jupiter has anything in the nature of a

solid surface. Its interior is in all likelihood a mass of molten

matter far above a red heat, which is surrounded by a comparatively

cool, yet, to our measure, extremely hot, vapor. The belt-like clouds

which surround the planet are due to this vapor combined with the rapid

rotation. If there is any solid surface below the atmosphere that we

can see, it is swept by winds such that nothing we have on earth could

withstand them. But, as we have said, the probabilities are very much

against there being anything like such a surface. At some great depth

in the fiery vapor there is a solid nucleus; that is all we can say.

The planet Saturn seems to be very much like that of Jupiter in its

composition. It receives so little heat from the sun that, unless it is

a mass of fiery vapor like Jupiter, the surface must be far below the

freezing-point.

We cannot speak with such certainty of Uranus and Neptune; yet the

probability seems to be that they are in much the same condition as

Saturn. They are known to have very dense atmospheres, which are made

known to us only by their absorbing some of the light of the sun. But

nothing is known of the composition of these atmospheres.

To sum up our argument: the fact that, so far as we have yet been able

to learn, only a very small proportion of the visible worlds scattered

through space are fitted to be the abode of life does not preclude the

probability that among hundreds of millions of such worlds a vast

number are so fitted. Such being the case, all the analogies of nature

lead us to believe that, whatever the process which led to life upon

this earth--whether a special act of creative power or a gradual course

of development--through that same process does life begin in every part

of the universe fitted to sustain it. The course of development

involves a gradual improvement in living forms, which by irregular

steps rise higher and higher in the scale of being. We have every

reason to believe that this is the case wherever life exists. It is,

therefore, perfectly reasonable to suppose that beings, not only

animated, but endowed with reason, inhabit countless worlds in space.

It would, indeed, be very inspiring could we learn by actual

observation what forms of society exist throughout space, and see the

members of such societies enjoying themselves by their warm firesides.

But this, so far as we can now see, is entirely beyond the possible

reach of our race, so long as it is confined to a single world.

VIII

HOW THE PLANETS ARE WEIGHED

Side-Lights on Astronomy and Kindred Fields of Popular Science · 第 8 / 23 段