under circumstances which are very narrowly limited. A few degrees of temperature more or less, a slight variation in the composition of air, the precise suitability of food, make all the difference between health and sickness, between life and death. Looking beyond the moon, into the length and breadth of the universe, we find countless celestial globes with every conceivable variety of temperature and of constitution. Amid this vast number of worlds with which space is tenanted, are there any inhabited by living beings? To this great question science can make no response: we cannot tell. Yet it is impossible to resist a conjecture. We find our earth teeming with life in every part. We find life under the most varied conditions that can be conceived. It is met with under the burning heat of the tropics and in the everlasting frost at the poles. We find life in caves where not a ray of light ever penetrates. Nor is it wanting in the depths of the ocean, at the pressure of tons on the square inch. Whatever may be the external circumstances, Nature generally provides some form of life to which those circumstances are congenial.
It is not at all probable that among the million spheres of the universe there is a single one exactly like our earth—like it in the possession of air and of water, like it in size and in composition. It does not seem probable that a man could live for one hour on any body in the universe except the earth, or that an oak-tree could live in any other sphere for a single season. Men can dwell on the earth, and oak-trees can thrive therein, because the constitutions of the man and of the oak are specially adapted to the particular circumstances of the earth.
Could we obtain a closer view of some of the celestial bodies, we should probably find that they, too, teem with life, but with life specially adapted to the environment—life in forms strange and weird; life far stranger to us than Columbus found it to be in the New World when he first landed there. Life, it may be, stranger than ever Dante described or Doré sketched. Intelligence may also have a home among those spheres no less than on the earth. There are globes greater and globes less—atmospheres greater and atmospheres less. The truest philosophy on this subject is crystallised in the language of Tennyson:—
"This truth within thy mind rehearse,
That in a boundless universe
Is boundless better, boundless worse.
"Think you this mould of hopes and fears
Could find no statelier than his peers
In yonder hundred million spheres?"
CHAPTER IV.
THE SOLAR SYSTEM.
Exceptional Importance of the Sun and Moon—The Course to be pursued—The Order of Distance—The Neighbouring Orbs—How are they to be discriminated?—The Planets Venus and Jupiter attract Notice by their Brilliancy—Sirius not a Neighbour—The Planets Saturn and Mercury—Telescopic Planets—The Criterion as to whether a Body is to be ranked as a Neighbour—Meaning of the word Planet—Uranus and Neptune—Comets—The Planets are illuminated by the Sun—The Stars are not—The Earth is really a Planet—The Four Inner Planets, Mercury, Venus, the Earth, and Mars—Velocity of the Earth—The Outer Planets, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune—Light and Heat received by the Planets from the Sun—Comparative Sizes of the Planets—The Minor Planets—The Planets all revolve in the same Direction—The Solar System—An Island Group in Space.
In the two preceding chapters of this work we have endeavoured to describe the heavenly bodies in the order of their relative importance to mankind. Could we doubt for a moment as to which of the many orbs in the universe should be the first to receive our attention? We do not now allude to the intrinsic significance of the sun when compared with other bodies or groups of bodies scattered through space. It may be that numerous globes rival the sun in real splendour, in bulk, and in mass. We shall, in fact, show later on in this volume that this is the case; and we shall then be in a position to indicate the true rank of the sun amid the countless hosts of heaven. But whatever may be the importance of the sun, viewed merely as one of the bodies which teem through space, there can be no hesitation in asserting how immeasurably his influence on the earth surpasses that of all other bodies in the universe together. It was therefore natural—indeed inevitable—that our first examination of the orbs of heaven should be directed to that mighty body which is the source of our life itself.
Nor could there be much hesitation as to the second step which ought to be taken. The intrinsic importance of the moon, when compared with other celestial bodies, may be small; it is, indeed, as we shall afterwards see, almost infinitesimal. But in the economy of our earth the moon has played, and still plays, a part second only in importance to that of the sun himself. The moon is so close to us that her brilliant rays pale to invisibility countless orbs of a size and an intrinsic splendour incomparably greater than her own. The moon also occupies an exceptional position in the history of astronomy; for the law of gravitation, the greatest discovery that science has yet witnessed, was chiefly accomplished by observations of the moon. It was therefore natural that an early chapter in our Story of the Heavens should be devoted to a body the interest of which approximated so closely to that of the sun himself.
But the sun and the moon having been partly described (we shall afterwards have to refer to them again), some hesitation is natural in the choice of the next step. The two great luminaries being abstracted from our view, there remains no other celestial body of such exceptional interest and significance as to make it quite clear what course to pursue; we desire to unfold the story of the heavens in the most natural manner. If we made the attempt to describe the celestial bodies in the order of their actual magnitude, our ignorance must at once pronounce the task to be impossible. We cannot even make a conjecture as to which body in the heavens is to stand first on the list. Even if that mightiest body be within reach of our telescopes (in itself a highly improbable supposition), we have not the least idea in what part of the heavens it is to be sought. And even if this were possible—if we were able to arrange all the visible bodies rank by rank in the order of their magnitude and their splendour—still the scheme would be impracticable, for of most of them we know little or nothing.
We are therefore compelled to adopt a different method of procedure, and the simplest, as well as the most natural, will be to follow as far as possible the order of distance of the different bodies. We have already spoken of the moon as the nearest neighbour to the earth; we shall next consider some of the other celestial bodies which are comparatively near to us; then, as the subject unfolds, we shall discuss the objects further and further away, until towards the close of the volume we shall be engaged in considering the most distant bodies in the universe which the telescope has yet revealed to us.
Even when we have decided on this principle, our course is still not free from ambiguity. Many of the bodies in the heavens are in motion, so that their relative distances from the earth are in continual change; this is, however, a difficulty which need not detain us. We shall make no attempt to adhere closely to the principle in all details. It will be sufficient if we first describe those great bodies—not a very numerous class—which are, comparatively speaking, in our vicinity, though still at varied distances; and then we shall pass on to the uncounted bodies which are separated from us by distances so vast that the imagination is baffled in the attempt to realise them.
Let us, then, scan the heavens to discover those orbs which lie in our neighbourhood. The sun has set, the moon has not risen; a cloudless sky discloses a heaven glittering with countless gems of light. Some are grouped together into well-marked constellations; others seem scattered promiscuously, with every degree of lustre, from the very brightest down to the faintest point that the eye can just glimpse. Amid all this host of objects,