It was Helmholtz who first explained by what agency the sun is able to continue its wonderful radiation of heat, notwithstanding that it receives no appreciable aid from chemical combination. Helmholtz pointed out that inasmuch as the sun is pouring out heat it must, like every other cooling body, contract. We ought not, indeed, to say every cooling body; it would be more correct to say, every body which is giving out heat, for the two things are not necessarily the same. Indeed, strange as it may appear, it would be quite possible that a mass of gas should be gaining in temperature even though it were losing heat all the time. At first this seems a paradox, but the paradox will be explained if we reflect upon the physical changes which the gas undergoes in consequence of its contraction.

Let us dwell for a moment on the remarkable statement that the sun is becoming gradually smaller. The reduction required to sustain the radiation corresponds to a diminution of the diameter by about a mile every eleven years. It may serve to impress upon us the fact of the sun’s shrinkage if we will remember that on that auspicious day when Queen Victoria came to the throne the sun had a diameter more than five miles greater than it had at the time when her long and glorious career was ended. The sun that shone on Palestine at the beginning of the present era must have had a diameter about one hundred and seventy miles greater than the sun which now shines on the Sea of Galilee. This process of reduction has been going on for ages, which from the human point of view we may practically describe as illimitable. The alteration in the sun’s diameter within the period covered by the records of man’s sway on this earth may be intrinsically large; it amounts no doubt to several hundreds of miles. But in comparison with the vast bulk of the sun this change in its magnitude is unimportant. A span of ten thousand years will certainly include all human history. Let us take a period which is four times as long. It is easy to calculate what the diameter of the sun must have been forty thousand years ago, or what the diameter of the sun is to become in the next forty thousand years. Calculated at the rate we have given, the alteration in the sun’s diameter in this period amounts to rather less than four thousand miles. This seems no doubt a huge alteration in the dimensions of the orb of day. We must, however, remember that at the present moment the diameter of the sun is about 863,000 miles, and that a loss of four thousand miles, or thereabouts, would still leave a sun with a diameter of 859,000 miles. There would not be much recognisable difference between two suns of these different dimensions. I think I may say that if we could imagine two suns in the sky at the same moment, which differed only in the circumstance that one had a diameter of 863,000 miles and the other a diameter of 859,000 miles, it would not be possible without careful telescopic measurement to tell which of the two was the larger.

After a contraction has taken place by loss of heat, the heat that still remains in the body is contained within a smaller volume than it had originally. The temperature depends not only on the actual quantity of heat that the mass of gas contains, but also on the volume through which that quantity of heat is diffused. If there be two equal weights of gas, and if they each have the same absolute quantity of heat, but if one of them occupies a larger volume than the other, then the temperature of the gas in the large volume will not be so high as the temperature of the gas in the smaller volume. This is indeed so much the case, that the reduction of volume by the loss of heat may sometimes have a greater effect in raising the temperature than the very loss of heat which produced the contraction has in depressing it. On the whole, therefore, a gain of temperature may be shown. This is what, indeed, happens not unfrequently in celestial bodies. The contraction having taken place, the lesser quantity of heat still shows to such advantage in the reduced volume of the body, that no decline of temperature will be perceptible. It may happen that simultaneously with the decrease of heat there is even an increase of temperature.

The principle under consideration shows that, though the sun is now giving out heat copiously, it does not necessarily follow that it must at the same time be sinking in temperature. As a matter of fact, physicists do not know what course the temperature of the sun is actually taking at this moment. The sun may now be precisely at the same temperature at which it stood a thousand years ago, or it may be cooler, or it may be hotter. In any case it is certain that the change of temperature per century is small, too small, in fact, to be decided in the present state of our knowledge. We cannot observe any change, and to estimate the change from mechanical principles would only be possible if we knew much more about the interior of the sun than we know at present.

We are forced to the conclusion that the energy of the sun, by which we mean either its actual heat or what is equivalent to heat, must be continually wasting. A thousand years ago there was more heat, or its equivalent, in the sun than there is at present. But the sun of a thousand years ago was larger than the sun that we now have, and the heat, or its equivalent, a thousand years ago may not have been so effective in sustaining the temperature of the bigger sun as the lesser quantity of heat is in sustaining the temperature of the sun at the present day. It will be noticed that the argument depends essentially on the alteration of the size of the sun. Of course if the orb of day had been no greater a thousand years ago than it is now, then the sun of those early days would not only have contained more heat than our present sun, but it must have shown that it did contain more heat. In other words, its temperature would then certainly have been greater than it is at present.

Thus we see the importance—so far as radiation is concerned—of the gradual shrinking of the sun. The great orb of day decreases, and its decrease has been estimated numerically. We cannot, indeed, determine the rate of decrease by actual telescopic measurement of the sun’s disc with the micrometer; observations extending over a period of thousands of years would be required for this purpose. But from knowing the daily expenditure of heat from the sun it is possible to calculate the amount by which it shrinks. We cannot conveniently explain the matter fully in these pages. Those who desire to see the calculation will find it in the Appendix. Suffice it to say here that the sun’s diameter diminishes about sixteen inches in every twenty-four hours. This is an important conclusion, for the rate of contraction of the solar diameter is one of the most significant magnitudes relating to the solar system.

It was Helmholtz who showed that the contraction of the sun’s diameter by sixteen inches a day is sufficient to account for the sustentation of the solar radiation. For immense periods of time the heat may be dispensed with practically unaltered liberality. The question then arises as to what time-limit may be assigned to the efficiency of our orb. Obviously the sun cannot go on contracting sixteen inches a day indefinitely. If that were the case, a certain number of millions of years would see it vanish altogether. The limit to the capacity of the sun to act as a dispenser of light and heat can be easily indicated. At present the sun, in its outer parts at all events, is strictly a vaporous body. The telescope shows us nothing resembling a solid or a liquid globe. The sun seems composed of gas in which clouds and vapours are suspended. In the sun’s centre the temperature is probably very much greater than any temperature which can be produced by artificial means; it would doubtless be sufficient not only to melt, but even to drive into vapour the most refractory materials. On the other hand, the enormous condensing pressure to which those materials are submitted by the stupendous mass of the sun will have the effect of keeping them together and of compressing them to such an extent that the density of the gas, if indeed we may call it gas, is probably as great as the density of any known matter. The fact is that the terms liquids, gases, and solids cease to retain intelligible distinctions when applied to materials under such pressure as would be found in the interior of the sun.

Astronomers can weigh the sun. It may well be imagined that this is a delicate and difficult operation. It can, however, be effected with but little margin of uncertainty, and the result is a striking one. It serves no useful purpose to express the sun’s weight as so many myriads of tons. It is more useful for our present purpose to set down the density of the sun, that is to say, the ratio of the weight of the orb, to that of a globe of water of the same size. This is the useful form in which to consider the weight of the sun. Astronomers are accustomed to think of the weight of our own earth in this same fashion, and the result shows that the earth is rather more than five times as heavy as a globe of water of the same size. We can best appreciate this by stating that if the earth were made of granite, and had throughout the density which we find granite to possess at the surface, our globe would be about three times as heavy as a globe of water of the same size. If, however, the earth had been entirely made of iron, it would be more than seven times as heavy as a globe of water of the same size. As the earth actually has a density of 5, it follows that our globe taken as a whole is heavier than a globe of granite of the same size, though not so heavy as a globe of iron.

In the matter of density there is a remarkable contrast between the sun and the earth. The sun’s density is much less than that of the earth. Of course it will be understood that the sun is actually very much heavier than our globe; it is indeed more than three hundred thousand times greater in weight. But the sun is about a million three hundred thousand times as big as the earth, and it follows from these figures that its density cannot be more than about a fourth of that of the earth. The result is that, at present, the sun is nearly half as heavy again as a globe of water the same size. We have used round numbers: the density of the sun is actually 1.4.