When we know that a planet turns round on an axis, we know that it has a day. When we know the direction of the axis in space or in relation to the plane of its path round the sun, we know that it has seasons: we can tell their length and when they begin and end. It did not take many years of observation to prove that the axis round which Mars turns is tilted to the plane of its path round the sun by an angle practically the same as that at which the earth's axis is tilted. So there is the immediate inference that on Mars the order and perhaps the character of the seasons is much the same as here on the earth.
At least two things, however, tend to modify them. First, the year of Mars is not 365 days like ours, but 687 days. Each of the four seasons on Mars, therefore, is proportionally longer than our seasons are. Then comes the question of atmosphere—how much of an atmosphere does Mars really possess in proportion to ours, and how would its lesser amount modify the blending of the seasons into one another?
All discussion of Mars and the problems of existence of life upon that planet hinge upon the character and extent of Martian atmosphere. The planet seems never to be covered, as the earth usually is, with extensive areas of cloud which to an observer in space would completely mask its oceans and continents. Nearly all the time Mars in his equatorial and temperate zones is quite clear of clouds. A few whitish spots are occasionally seen to change their form and position in both northern and southern latitudes, and they vary with the progress of the day on Mars, as clouds naturally would. But Schiaparelli, perhaps the best of all observers, thought them to be not low-lying clouds of the nimbus type that would produce rains, but rather a veil of fog, or perhaps a temporary condensation of vapor, as dew or hoar frost. But the strongest argument for an atmosphere is based on the temporary darkening or obscuration of well known and permanent markings on the surface of Mars. These are more or less frequently observed and clouds afford the best explanation of their occurrence.
So much for evidence supplied by the telescope alone. When, however, we employ the spectroscope in conjunction with the telescope, another sort of evidence is at hand. Several astronomers have reached the conclusion that watery vapor exists in the atmosphere of Mars, while other astronomers equipped with equal or superior apparatus, and under equally favorable or even better conditions, have reached the remarkable conclusion that the spectra of Mars and the moon are identical in every particular. From this we should be led to infer that Mars has perhaps no more atmosphere than the moon has, that is to say, none whatever that present instruments and methods of investigation have enabled us to detect.
What then, shall we conclude? Simply that the atmosphere of Mars is neither very dense nor extensive. Probably its lower strata close to the planet's surface are about as dense as the earth's atmosphere is at the summits of our highest mountains.
This conclusion is not unwelcome, if we keep a few fundamental facts in clear and constant view. Mars is a planet of intermediate size between the earth and the moon: twice the moon's diameter (2,160 miles) very nearly equals the diameter of Mars (4,200 miles), and twice the diameter of Mars does not greatly exceed the earth's diameter (7,920 miles). As to the weights or masses of these bodies, Mars is about one-ninth, and the moon one-eightieth of the earth. The atmospheric envelope of the earth is abundant, the moon has none as far as we can ascertain; so it seems safe to infer that Mars has an atmosphere of slight density: not dense enough to be detected by spectroscopic methods, but yet dense enough to enable us to explain the varying telescopic phenomena of the planet's disk which we should not know how to account for, if there were no atmosphere whatever. One astronomer has, indeed, gone so far as to calculate that in comparison with our planet Mars is entitled to one-twentieth as much atmosphere as we have, and that the mercurial barometer at "sea level" would run about five and a half inches, as against thirty inches on the earth.
In general, then, the climate of Mars is probably very much like that of a clear season on a very high terrestrial table land or mountain—a climate of wide extremes, with great changes of temperature from day to night. The inequality of Martian seasons is such that in his northern hemisphere the winter lasts 381 days and the summer only 306 days.
Now, the polar caps of Mars, which are reasonably assumed to be due to snow or hoar frost, attain their maximum three or four months after the winter solstice, and their minimum about the same length of time after the summer solstice. This lagging should be interpreted as an argument for a Martian atmosphere with heat-storing qualities, similar to that possessed by the earth.
Upon this characteristic, indeed, depends the climate at the surface of Mars: whether it is at all similar to our own, and whether fluid water is a possibility on Mars or not. While the cosmic relations of the planet in its orbit are quite the same as ours, nevertheless the greater distance of Mars diminishes his supply of direct solar heat to about half what we receive. On the other hand, his distance from the sun during his year of motion around it varies much more widely than ours, so that he receives when nearest the sun about one-half more of solar heat than he does when farthest away.
Southern summers on Mars, therefore, must be much hotter, and southern winters colder than the corresponding seasons of his northern hemisphere. Indeed, the length of the southern summer, nearly twice that of the terrestrial season, sometimes amply suffices to melt all the polar ice and snow, as in October, 1894, when the southern polar cap of Mars dwindled rapidly and finally vanished completely.