The Story of the Heavens

by Robert S. Ball

Everyone ought to be familiar with the Pole Star, which, though by no means the most brilliant, is probably the most important star in the whole heavens. In these latitudes we are accustomed to find the Pole Star at a considerable elevation, and there we can invariably find it, always in the same place in the northern sky. But suppose we start on a voyage to the southern hemisphere: as we approach the equator we find, night after night, the Pole Star coming closer to the horizon. At the equator it is on the horizon; while if we cross the line, we find on entering the southern hemisphere that this useful celestial body has become invisible. This is in itself sufficient to show us that the earth cannot be the flat surface that untutored experience seems to indicate.

On the other hand, a traveller leaving England for Norway observes that the Pole Star is every night higher in the heavens than he has been accustomed to see it. If he extend his journey farther north, the same object will gradually rise higher and higher, until at length, when approaching the pole of the earth, the Pole Star is high up over his head. We are thus led to perceive that the higher our latitude, the higher, in general, is the elevation of the Pole Star. But we cannot use precise language until we replace the twinkling point by the pole of the heavens itself. The pole of the heavens is near the Pole Star, which itself revolves around the pole of the heavens, as all the other stars do, once every day. The circle described by the Pole Star is, however, so small that, unless we give it special attention, the motion will not be perceived. The true pole is not a visible point, but it is capable of being accurately defined, and it enables us to state with the utmost precision the relation between the pole and the latitude. The statement is, that the elevation of the pole above the horizon is equal to the latitude of the place.

The astronomer stationed at one end of the long line measures the elevation of the pole above the horizon. This is an operation of some delicacy. In the first place, as the pole is invisible, he has to obtain its position indirectly. He measures the altitude of the Pole Star when that altitude is greatest, and repeats the operation twelve hours later, when the altitude of the Pole Star is least; the mean between the two, when corrected in various ways which it is not necessary for us now to discuss, gives the true altitude of the pole. Suffice it to say that by such operations the latitude of one end of the line is determined. The astronomer then, with all his equipment of instruments, moves to the other end of the line. He there repeats the process, and he finds that the pole has now a different elevation, corresponding to the different latitude. The difference of the two elevations thus gives him an accurate measure of the number of degrees and fractional parts of a degree between the latitudes of the two stations. This can be compared with the actual distance in miles between the two stations, which has been ascertained by the trigonometrical survey. A simple calculation will then show the number of miles and fractional parts of a mile corresponding to one degree of latitude—or, as it is more usually expressed, the length of a degree of the meridian.

This operation has to be repeated in different parts of the earth—in the northern hemisphere and in the southern, in high latitudes and in low. If the sea-level over the entire earth were a perfect sphere, an important consequence would follow—the length of a degree of the meridian would be everywhere the same. It would be the same in Peru as in Sweden, the same in India as in England. But the lengths of the degrees are not all the same, and hence we learn that our earth is not really a sphere. The measured lengths of the degrees enable us to see to what extent the shape of the earth departs from a perfect sphere. Near the pole the length of a degree is longer than near the equator. This shows that the earth is flattened at the poles and protuberant at the equator, and it provides the means by which we may calculate the actual lengths of the polar and the equatorial axes. In this way the equatorial diameter has been found equal to 7,927 miles, while the polar diameter is 27 miles shorter.

The polar axis of the earth may be defined as the diameter about which the earth rotates. This axis intersects the surface at the north and south poles. The time which the earth occupies in making a complete rotation around this axis is called a sidereal day. The sidereal day is a little shorter than the ordinary day, being only 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4 seconds. The rotation is performed just as if a rigid axis passed through the centre of the earth; or, to use the old and homely illustration, the earth rotates just as a ball of worsted may be made to rotate around a knitting-needle thrust through its centre.

It is a noteworthy circumstance that the axis about which the earth rotates occupies a position identical with that of the shortest diameter of the earth as found by actual surveying. This is a coincidence which would be utterly inconceivable if the shape of the earth was not in some way physically connected with the fact that the earth is rotating. What connection can then be traced? Let us enquire into the subject, and we shall find that the shape of the earth is a consequence of its rotation.

The earth at the present time is subject, at various localities, to occasional volcanic outbreaks. The phenomena of such eruptions, the allied occurrence of earthquakes, the well-known fact that the heat increases the deeper we descend into the earth, the existence of hot springs, the geysers found in Iceland and elsewhere, all testify to the fact that heat exists in the interior of the earth. Whether that heat be, as some suppose, universal in the interior of the earth, or whether it be merely local at the several places where its manifestations are felt, is a matter which need not now concern us. All that is necessary for our present purpose is the admission that heat is present to some extent.

This internal heat, be it much or little, has obviously a different origin from the heat which we know on the surface. The heat we enjoy is derived from the sun. The internal heat cannot have been derived from the sun; its intensity is far too great, and there are other insuperable difficulties attending the supposition that it has come from the sun. Where, then, has this heat come from? This is a question which at present we can hardly answer—nor, indeed, does it much concern our argument that we should answer it. The fact being admitted that the heat is there, all that we require is to apply one or two of the well-known thermal laws to the interpretation of the facts. We have first to consider the general principle by which heat tends to diffuse itself and spread away from its original source. The heat, deep-seated in the interior of the earth, is transmitted through the superincumbent rocks, and slowly reaches the surface. It is true that the rocks and materials with which our earth is covered are not good conductors of heat; most of them are, indeed, extremely inefficient in this way; but, good or bad, they are in some shape conductors, and through them the heat must creep to the surface.

It cannot be urged against this conclusion that we do not feel this heat. A few feet of brickwork will so confine the heat of a mighty blast furnace that but little will escape through the bricks; but some heat does escape, and the bricks have never been made, and never could be made, which would absolutely intercept all the heat. If a few feet of brickwork can thus nearly mask the heat of a furnace, cannot some scores of miles of rock nearly mask the heat in the depths of the earth, even though that heat were seven times hotter than the mightiest furnace that ever existed? The heat would escape slowly, and perhaps imperceptibly, but, unless all our knowledge of nature is a delusion, no rocks, however thick, can prevent, in the course of time, the leakage of the heat to the surface. When this heat arrives at the surface of the earth it must, in virtue of another thermal law, gradually radiate away and be lost to the earth.

It would lead us too far to discuss fully the objections which may perhaps be raised against what we have here stated. It is often said that the heat in the interior of the earth is being produced by chemical combination or by mechanical process, and thus that the heat may be constantly renewed as fast or even faster than it escapes. This, however, is more a difference in form than in substance. If heat be produced in the way just supposed (and there can be no doubt that there may be such an origin for some of the heat in the interior of the globe) there must be a certain expenditure of chemical or mechanical energies that produces a certain exhaustion. For every unit of heat which escapes there will either be a loss of an unit of heat from the globe, or, what comes nearly to the same thing, a loss of an unit of heat-making power from the chemical or the mechanical energies. The substantial result is the same; the heat, actual or potential, of the earth must be decreasing. It should, of course, be observed that a great part of the thermal losses experienced by the earth is of an obvious character, and not dependent upon the slow processes of conduction. Each outburst of a volcano discharges a stupendous quantity of heat, which disappears very speedily from the earth; while in the hot springs found in so many places there is a perennial discharge of the same kind, which in the course of years attains enormous proportions.