Astronomy and General Physics Considered with Reference to Natural Theology

by William Whewell

The length of the year or interval of recurrence of the seasons is determined by the time which the earth employs in performing its revolution round the sun: and we can very easily conceive the solar system so adjusted that the year should be longer or shorter than it actually is. We can imagine the earth to revolve round the sun at a distance greater or less than that which it at present has, all the forces of the system remaining unaltered. If the earth were removed towards the centre by about one-eighth of its distance, the year would be diminished by about a month; and in the same manner it would be increased by a month on increasing the distance by one-eighth. We can suppose the earth at a distance of eighty-four or a hundred and eight millions of miles, just as easily as at its present distance of ninety-six millions: we can suppose the earth with its present stock of animals and vegetables placed where Mars or where Venus is, and revolving in an orbit like one of theirs: on the former supposition our year would become twenty-three, on the latter seven of our present months. Or we can conceive the present distances of the parts of the system to continue what they are, and the size, or the density of the central mass, the sun, to be increased or diminished in any proportion; and in this way the time of the earth’s revolution might have been increased or diminished in any degree; a greater velocity, and consequently a diminished period, being requisite in order to balance an augmented central attraction. In any of these ways the length of the earth’s natural year might have been different from what it now is: in the last way without any necessary alteration, so far as we can see, of temperature.

Now, if any change of this kind were to take place, the working of the botanical world would be thrown into utter disorder, the functions of plants would be entirely deranged, and the whole vegetable kingdom involved in instant decay and rapid extinction.

That this would be the case, may be collected from innumerable indications. Most of our fruit trees, for example, require the year to be of its present length. If the summer and the autumn were much shorter, the fruit could not ripen; if these seasons were much longer, the tree would put forth a fresh suit of blossoms, to be cut down by the winter. Or if the year were twice its present length, a second crop of fruit would probably not be matured, for want, among other things, of an intermediate season of rest and consolidation, such as the winter is. Our forest trees in like manner appear to need all the seasons of our present year for their perfection; the spring, summer, and autumn, for the developement of their leaves and consequent formation of their proper juice, and of wood from this; and the winter for the hardening and solidifying the substance thus formed.

Most plants, indeed, have some peculiar function adapted to each period of the year, that is of the now existing year. The sap ascends with extraordinary copiousness at two seasons, in the spring and in the autumn, especially the former. The opening of the leaves and the opening of the flowers of the same plants are so constant to their times, (their appointed times, as we are naturally led to call them,) that such occurrences might be taken as indications of the times of the year. It has been proposed in this way to select a series of botanical facts which should form a calendar; and this has been termed a calendar of Flora. Thus, if we consider the time of putting forth leaves,[1] the honeysuckle protrudes them in the month of January; the gooseberry, currant, and elder in the end of February, or beginning of March; the willow, elm, and lime-tree in April; the oak and ash, which are always the latest among trees, in the beginning or towards the middle of May. In the same manner the flowering has its regular time: the mezereon and snowdrop push forth their flowers in February; the primrose in the month of March; the cowslip in April; the great mass of plants in May and June; many in July, August, and September; some, not till the month of October, as the meadow saffron; and some not till the approach and arrival of winter, as the laurustinus and arbutus.

The fact which we have here to notice, is the recurrence of these stages in the developement of plants, at intervals precisely or very nearly of twelve months. Undoubtedly, this result is in part occasioned by the action of external stimulants upon the plant, especially heat, and by the recurrence of the intensity of such agents. Accordingly, there are slight differences in the times of such occurrences, according to the backwardness or forwardness of the season, and according as the climate is genial or otherwise. Gardeners use artifices which will, to a certain extent, accelerate or retard the time of developement of a plant. But there are various circumstances which show that this recurrence of the same events and equal intervals is not entirely owing to external causes, and that it depends also upon something in the internal structure of vegetables. Alpine plants do not wait for the stimulus of the sun’s heat, but exert such a struggle to blossom, that their flowers are seen among the yet unmelted snow. And this is still more remarkable in the naturalization of plants from one hemisphere to the other. When we transplant our fruit trees to the temperate regions south of the equator, they continue for some years to flourish at the period which corresponds to our spring. The reverse of this obtains, with certain trees of the southern hemisphere. Plants from the Cape of Good Hope, and from Australia, countries whose summer is simultaneous with our winter, exhibit their flowers in the coldest part of the year, as the heaths.

This view of the subject agrees with that maintained by the best botanical writers. Thus Decandolle observes that after making allowance for all meteorological causes, which determine the epoch of flowering, we must reckon as another cause the peculiar nature of each species. The flowering once determined, appears to be subject to a law of periodicity and habit.[2]

It appears then that the functions of plants have by their nature a periodical character; and the length of the period thus belonging to vegetables is a result of their organization. Warmth and light, soil and moisture, may in some degree modify, and hasten or retard the stages of this period; but when the constraint is removed the natural period is again resumed. Such stimulants as we have mentioned are not the causes of this periodicity. They do not produce the varied functions of the plant, and could not occasion their performance at regular intervals, except the plant possessed a suitable construction. They could not alter the length of the cycle of vegetable functions, except within certain very narrow limits. The processes of the rising of the sap, of the formation of proper juices, of the unfolding of leaves, the opening of flowers, the fecundation of the fruit, the ripening of the seed, its proper deposition in order for the reproduction of a new plant;—all these operations require a certain portion of time, and could not be compressed into a space less than a year, or at least could not be abbreviated in any very great degree. And on the other hand, if the winter were greatly longer than it now is, many seeds would not germinate at the return of spring. Seeds which have been kept too long require stimulants to make them fertile.

If therefore the duration of the seasons were much to change, the processes of vegetable life would be interrupted, deranged, distempered. What, for instance, would become of our calendar of Flora, if the year were lengthened or shortened by six months? Some of the dates would never arrive in the one case, and the vegetable processes which mark them would be superseded; some seasons would be without dates in the other case, and these periods would be employed in a way harmful to the plants, and no doubt speedily destructive. We should have not only a year of confusion, but, if it were repeated and continued, a year of death.

But in the existing state of things, the duration of the earth’s revolution round the sun, and the duration of the revolution of the vegetable functions of most plants are equal. These two periods are adjusted to each other. The stimulants which the elements apply come at such intervals and continue for such times, that the plant is supported in health and vigour, and enabled to reproduce its kind. Just such a portion of time is measured out for the vegetable powers to execute their task, as enables them to do so in the best manner.

Now such an adjustment must surely be accepted as a proof of design, exercised in the formation of the world. Why should the solar year be so long and no longer? or, this being of such a length, why should the vegetable cycle be exactly of the same length? Can this be chance? And this occurs, it is to be observed, not in one, or in a few species of plants, but in thousands. Take a small portion only of known species, as the most obviously endowed with this adjustment, and say ten thousand. How should all these organized bodies be constructed for the same period of a year? How should all these machines be wound up so as to go for the same time? Even allowing that they could bear a year of a month longer or shorter, how do they all come within such limits? No chance could produce such a result. And if not by chance, how otherwise could such a coincidence occur, than by an intentional adjustment of these two things to one another? by a selection of such an organization in plants, as would fit them to the earth on which they were to grow; by an adaptation of construction to conditions; of the scale of the construction to the scale of the conditions.