I contend that our knowledge of the whole subject is fundamentally altered since these words were written. We are no longer “left to conjectures founded on the supposed divisibility of matter” to determine the possibility of further expansibility than that indicated by 1-100th of an inch of barometrical pressure, as we now have means of obtaining ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times, or even an infinitely greater rarefaction than Wollaston’s supposed limit, an apparently absolute vacuum being now obtainable; and although the transmission of electricity affords a means of testing the existence of atmospheric matter with a degree of delicacy of which Wollaston had no conception, we are still unable to detect any indication of any limit to its expansibility.
The most remarkable part of Dr. Wollaston’s paper is the reductio ad absurdum by which he seeks to finally demonstrate the finite extent of our atmosphere. He maintains, as I do, that if the elasticity of our atmosphere is unlimited, its extension must be commensurate with the universe, that every orb in space will, by gravitation, gather around itself an atmosphere proportionate to its gravitating power, and that, by taking the known quantity of the earth’s atmosphere as our unit, we may calculate the amount of atmosphere possessed by any heavenly body of which the mass is known. On this basis Dr. Wollaston calculates the atmosphere of the sun, and concludes that its extent will be so great as to visibly affect the apparent motions of Mercury and Venus, when their declination makes its nearest approach to that of the sun. No such disturbance being actually observable, he concludes that such an atmosphere as he has calculated cannot exist. In like manner he calculates the atmosphere of Jupiter, and finds it to be so great, that its refraction would be sufficient “to render the fourth satellite visible to us when behind the centre of the planet, and consequently to make it appear on both (or all) sides at the same time.”
On examining these calculations, I have discovered the very curious error above referred to. As this is a matter of figures that cannot be abridged, I must refer the reader to the original calculations. I will here merely state that Wollaston’s method of calculating the solar gravitation atmosphere and that of Jupiter and the moon leads to the monstrous conclusion that, in ascending from the surface of the given orb, we always have the same limited amount of atmospheric matter above as that with which we started, although we are continually leaving a portion of it below.
Wollaston’s mistake is based on the assumption that, under the circumstances supposed, the atmospheric pressure and density, at any given distance from the centre of the given orb, will vary inversely with the square of that distance. As the area of the base upon which such pressure is exerted varies directly with the square of the distance, the total atmosphere above every imaginable starting-distance would thus be ever the same. That this assumption, so utterly at variance with the known laws of atmospheric distribution, should have remained unchallenged for half a century, and that the conclusions based upon it should be accepted by the whole scientific world, and repeated in standard treatises, such as those of the “Encyclopedia Britannica,” etc., etc., is, I think, one of the most remarkable curiosities presented by the history of science. If it were merely a little cobweb in some obscure corner of philosophy, there would be nothing surprising in its escape from the besom of scientific criticism; but this is so far from being the case, that it has hung, since 1822, like a dark veil obscuring another, a wider, and more interesting view of the universe which the idea of an universal atmosphere opens out. But I must now proceed to the next stage of the argument.
Starting from the conclusion reached in the previous chapters, that the atmosphere of our earth is but a portion of an universal elastic medium which it has attached to itself by its gravitation, and that all the other orbs of space must, in like manner, have obtained their proportion, I take the earth’s mass, and its known quantity of atmospheric envelope as units, and calculating by the simple rule I have laid down in opposition to Wollaston’s, I find that the total weight of the sun’s atmosphere should be at least 117,681,623 times that of the earth’s, and the pressure at its base equal, at least, to 15,233 atmospheres. What must be the results of such an atmospheric accumulation?
The experiment of compressing air in the condensing syringe, and thereby lighting a piece of German tinder, is familiar to all who have studied even the rudiments of physical science. Taking the formulæ of Leslie and Dalton, and applying them to the solar pressure of 15,233 atmospheres, we arrive according to Leslie, at the inconceivable temperature of 380,832° C., or 685,529° F., as that due to this amount of compression, or, according to Dalton, at 761,665° F. What will be the effects of such a degree of heat upon materials similar to those of which our earth is composed?
Let us first take the case of water, which, for reasons I have stated, should be regarded as atmospheric, or universally diffused matter.
This brings us to a subject of the highest and widest philosophical and practical importance. I refer to the antagonism between the force of heat and that of chemical combination, to which the French chemists have given the name “dissociation.” Having myself been unable to find any satisfactory English account of this subject at a time when it had already been well treated by French and German authors, in the form of published lectures and cyclopædia articles, I assume that others may have encountered a similar difficulty, and therefore dwell rather more fully upon this part of my present summary.
It appears that all chemical compounds may be decomposed by heat, and that, at a given pressure, there is a definite and special temperature at which the decomposition of each compound is effected. For the absolute and final establishment of the universality of this law further investigations are necessary, actual investigations having established it as far as they have gone, but these have not been exhaustive.
There appears to be a remarkable analogy between dissociation and evaporation. When a liquid is vaporized, a certain amount of heat is “rendered latent,” and this quantity varies with the liquid and with the pressure, but is definite and invariable for each liquid at a given pressure. In like manner, when a compound is dissociated, a certain amount of heat is “rendered latent,” or converted into dissociating force, and this varies with each compound and with the pressure, but is definite and invariable for each compound at a given pressure. Further, when condensation occurs, an amount of heat is evolved, as temperature, exactly equal to that which was rendered latent in the evaporation of the same substance under the same pressure; and, in like manner, when chemical re-combination of dissociated elements occurs, an amount of heat is evolved, as temperature, exactly equal to that which disappeared when the compound was dissociated by heat alone under the same pressure.
According to the recently adopted figures of M. Deville, the temperature at which the vapor of water becomes dissociated under ordinary atmospheric pressure is 2800° C., and the, quantity of heat which disappears, as temperature, in the course of dissociation is 2153 calorics, i.e., sufficient to raise 2153 times its own weight of liquid water 1° C.; but, as the specific heat of aqueous vapor is to that of liquid water as 0·475 to 1, that latent heat expressed in the temperature it would have given to aqueous vapor is = 4532° C., or 8158° F.
In order to render the analogy between the ebullition and dissociation of water more evident and intelligible, I will state it as follows:—
To commence the ebullition of To commence the dissociation of water under ordinary pressure, aqueous vapor under ordinary a temperature of 100° C., or pressures, a temperature of 212° F., must be attained. 2800° C., or 5072° F., must be attained.
To complete the ebullition of a To complete the dissociation of given quantity of water, an a given quantity of aqueous amount of heat must be applied, vapor, an amount of heat must sufficient to have raised be applied sufficient to have the water 537° C., or 968° F., raised the vapor 4532° C., or above its boiling-point, had it 8158° F., above its dissociation- not evaporated. point had it not decomposed.
In order that a given quantity of In order that a given quantity of vapor of water shall condense, the elements of water may combine, it must give off sufficient heat they must give off sufficient to raise its own weight of water heat to raise their own 537° C., or 968° F. weight of aqueous vapor 4532° C., or 8158° F.
I have expressed these generalizations and analogies rather more definitely than they have been hitherto stated, but those who are acquainted with the researches of Deville, Cailletet, Bunsen, etc., will perceive that I am justified in doing so.
With the general laws of the dissociation of water thus before us, we may follow out the necessary action of the above-stated pressure and consequent evolution of heat in the lower regions of the solar atmosphere upon the large proportion of aqueous vapor which I have shown that it should contain.
It is evident that the first result will be separation of this water into its elements, accompanied with a loss of temperature corresponding to the latent heat of dissociation. We may assume that in the lower regions of the solar atmosphere the free heat evolved by mechanical compression will be more than sufficient to dissociate the whole of the aqueous vapor, and thus the dissociated gases will be left at a higher temperature than was necessary to effect their dissociation. Their condition will thus be analogous to that of superheated steam: they will have to give off some heat before they can begin to combine.
There will, however, be somewhere an elevation at which the heat evolved by the joint compression of the elementary and combined gases will be just sufficient to dissociate the latter, and here will be the meeting surface of the combined and the uncombined constituents of water. There will be a sphere containing combined oxygen and hydrogen surrounded by an atmospheric envelope containing large quantities of aqueous vapor, and the temperature at this limiting surface will be equal to that of the oxyhydrogen flame under a corresponding pressure.
What will occur under these conditions? Will the “detonating gases” behave as in the laboratory? Obviously not, as a glance at the third of the above parallel propositions will show. The dissociated gases cannot combine without giving off their 4532° of latent heat as actual temperature. This can only be effected by communication with matter which is cooler than itself.
If a bubble of steam is surrounded by water maintained at the boiling temperature, it will not condense at all, because any effort of condensation would be accompanied with an evolution of heat exactly sufficient to evaporate its own result. If, however, the surrounding water is slowly radiating, or otherwise losing its heat, the enclosed bubble of steam will condense proportionately, by giving off to its envelope an amount of its latent heat just sufficient to maintain the water at the boiling-point.
For further illustration, let us conceive the case of a certain quantity of the elements of water heated exactly to the temperature of dissociation, and confined in a vessel the sides of which are maintained externally at precisely the same temperature as the gases within, so that no heat can be added or taken away from them. No sensible amount of combination can take place, as the first infinitesimal effort of combustion, or combination, would set free just the amount of heat required to decompose its own result. Let us now suppose a modification of these conditions, viz., that the vessel containing the dissociated gases, at the temperature of dissociation, shall be surrounded with bodies cooler than itself, i.e., capable of receiving more heat from it than they radiate towards it; there would then take place just so much combustion as would set free the amount of heat required to maintain the temperature of the vessel at the dissociation-point; or, in other words, combustion would go on to the extent of setting free just so much heat as the gaseous mass was capable of radiating, or otherwise transmitting to surrounding bodies; and this amount of combustion would continue till all the gases had combined.
We have only to give this hypothetical vessel a spherical form and an internal diameter of 853,380 miles—to construct its enveloping sides of a thick shell of aqueous vapor, etc., and then, by placing in the midst of the contained dissociated gases a nucleus of some kind, we are hypothetically supplied with, the main conditions which I suppose to exist in the sun.
A little reflection upon the application of the above-stated laws to these conditions will show that the stupendous ocean of explosive gases would constitute an enormous stock of fuel capable, by its combustion, of setting free exactly the same quantity of heat as had previously been converted into decomposing or separating force; the amount of combustion would always be limited by the possible amount of radiation, and the radiation would again be limited by the resisting envelope of aqueous vapor produced by this combustion.
If these conditions existed in a perfectly calm and undisturbed solar atmosphere, there would be a continually increasing external envelope of aqueous vapor, and a continually diminishing inner atmosphere of combustible gases; there would be a gradual diminution of the amount of solar radiation, and a slow and perpetually retarding progress towards solar extinction.
It should be noted that, according to this explanation, the supply of heat is originally derived from atmospheric condensation due to gravitation, that the storage of surplus heat is effected by dissociation, and its evolution mainly by recombination or combustion.
The great difficulty, that of the perpetual renewal of the solar fuel, still remains unsolved; the fact that during the millions of years of geological history we find no indications of any declining average of solar energy is so far still unexplained by this, as by every other, attempt to account for the origin of solar and stellar light and heat.
In his inaugural address to the British Association Meeting of 1866, Mr. Grove put the following very suggestive question:—“Our sun, our earth, and planets are constantly radiating heat into space; so, in all probability, are the other suns, the stars, and their attendant planets. What becomes of the heat thus radiated into space? If the universe has no limit—and it is difficult to conceive one—there is a constant evolution of heat and light; and yet more is given off than is received by each cosmical body, for otherwise night would be as light and as warm as day. What becomes of the enormous force thus apparently non-recurrent in the same form?”
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