View of the Moon two days after first quarter.

From a photograph by Mr. Lewis M. Rutherford.

Frontispiece.

TO

The Members of the London Institution

I DEDICATE

THIS LITTLE BOOK

PREFACE

Having been honoured once again with a request that I should lecture before the London Institution, I chose for my subject the Theory of Tidal Evolution. The kind reception which these lectures received has led to their publication in the present volume. I have taken the opportunity to supplement the lectures as actually delivered by the insertion of some additional matter. I am indebted to my friends Mr. Close and Mr. Rambaut for their kindness in reading the proofs.

Robert S. Ball.

Observatory, Co. Dublin,

April 26, 1889.

LECTURE I

It is my privilege to address you this afternoon on a subject in which science and poetry are blended in a happy conjunction. If there be a peculiar fascination about the earlier chapters of any branch of history, how great must be the interest which attaches to that most primeval of all terrestrial histories which relates to the actual beginnings of this globe on which we stand.

In our efforts to grope into the dim recesses of this awful past, we want the aid of some steadfast light which shall illumine the dark places without the treachery of the will-o'-the-wisp. In the absence of that steadfast light, vague conjectures as to the beginning of things could never be entitled to any more respect than was due to mere matters of speculation.

Of late, however, the required light has been to some considerable extent forthcoming, and the attempt has been made, with no little success, to elucidate a most interesting and wonderful chapter of an exceedingly remote history. To chronicle this history is the object of the present lectures before this Institution.

First, let us be fully aware of the extraordinary remoteness of that period of which our history treats. To attempt to define that period chronologically would be utterly futile. When we have stated that it is more ancient than almost any other period which we can discuss, we have expressed all that we are really entitled to say. Yet this conveys not a little. It directs us to look back through all the ages of modern human history, through the great days of ancient Greece and Rome, back through the times when Egypt and Assyria were names of renown, through the days when Nineveh and Babylon were mighty and populous cities in the zenith of their glory. Back earlier still to those more ancient nations of which we know hardly anything, and still earlier to the prehistoric man, of whom we know less; back, finally, to the days when man first trod on this planet, untold ages ago. Here is indeed a portentous retrospect from most points of view, but it is only the commencement of that which our subject suggests.

For man is but the final product of the long anterior ages during which the development of life seems to have undergone an exceedingly gradual elevation. Our retrospect now takes its way along the vistas opened up by the geologists. We look through the protracted tertiary ages, when mighty animals, now generally extinct, roamed over the continents. Back still earlier through those wondrous secondary periods, where swamps or oceans often covered what is now dry land, and where mighty reptiles of uncouth forms stalked and crawled and swam through the old world and the new. Back still earlier through those vitally significant ages when the sunbeams were being garnered and laid aside for man's use in the great forests, which were afterwards preserved by being transformed into seams of coal. Back still earlier through endless thousands of years, when lustrous fishes abounded in the oceans; back again to those periods characterized by the lower types of life; and still earlier to that incredibly remote epoch when life itself began to dawn on our awakening globe. Even here the epoch of our present history can hardly be said to have been reached. We have to look through a long succession of ages still antecedent. The geologist, who has hitherto guided our view, cannot render us much further assistance; but the physicist is at hand—he teaches us that the warm globe on which life is beginning has passed in its previous stages through every phase of warmth, of fervour, of glowing heat, of incandescence, and of actual fusion; and thus at last our retrospect reaches to that particular period of our earth's past history which is specially illustrated by the modern doctrine of Time and Tide.

The present is the clue to the past. It is the steady application of this principle which has led to such epoch-making labours as those by which Lyell disclosed the origin of the earth's crust, Darwin the origin of species, Max Müller the origin of language. In our present subject the course is equally clear. Study exactly what is going on at present, and then have the courage to apply consistently and rigorously what we have learned from the present to the interpretation of the past.

Thus we begin with the ripple of the tide on the sea-beach which we see to-day. The ebb and the flow of the tide are the present manifestations of an agent which has been constantly at work. Let that present teach us what tides must have done in the indefinite past.

It has been known from the very earliest times that the moon and the tides were connected together—connected, I say, for a great advance had to be made in human knowledge before it would have been possible to understand the true relation between the tides and the moon. Indeed, that relation is so far from being of an obvious character, that I think I have read of a race who felt some doubt as to whether the moon was the cause of the tides, or the tides the cause of the moon. I should, however, say that the moon is not the sole agent engaged in producing this periodic movement of our waters. The sun also arouses a tide, but the solar tide is so small in comparison with that produced by the moon, that for our present purpose we may leave it out of consideration. We must, however, refer to the solar tide at a later period of our discourses, for it will be found to have played a very splendid part at the initial stage of the Earth-Moon History, while in the remote future it will again rise into prominence.

It will be well to set forth a few preliminary figures which shall explain how it comes to pass that the efficiency of the sun as a tide-producing agent is so greatly inferior to that of the moon. Indeed, considering that the sun has a mass so stupendous, that it controls the entire planetary system, how is it that a body so insignificant as the moon can raise a bigger tide on the ocean than can the sun, of which the mass is 26,000,000 times as great as that of our satellite?

This apparent paradox will disappear when we enunciate the law according to which the efficiency of a tide-producing agent is to be estimated. This law is somewhat different from the familiar form in which the law of gravitation is expressed. The gravitation between two distant masses is to be measured by multiplying these masses together, and dividing the product by the square of the distance. The law for expressing the efficiency of a tide-producing agent varies not according to the inverse square, but according to the inverse cube of the distance. This difference in the expression of the law will suffice to account for the superiority of the moon as a tide-producer over the sun. The moon's distance on an average is about one 386th part of that of the sun, and thus it is easy to show that so far as the mere attraction of gravitation is concerned, the efficiency of the sun's force on the earth is about one hundred and seventy-five times as great as the force with which the moon attracts the earth. That is of course calculated under the law of the inverse square. To determine the tidal efficiency we have to divide this by three hundred and eighty-six, and thus we see that the tidal efficiency of the sun is less than half that of the moon.

When the solar tide and the lunar tide are acting in unison, they conspire to produce very high tides and very low tides, or, as we call them, spring tides. On the other hand, when the sun is so placed as to give us a low tide while the moon is producing a high tide, the net result that we actually experience is merely the excess of the lunar tide over the solar tide; these are what we call neap tides. In fact, by very careful and long-continued observations of the rise and fall of the tides at a particular port, it becomes possible to determine with accuracy the relative ranges of spring tides and neap tides; and as the spring tides are produced by moon plus sun, while the neap tides are produced by moon minus sun, we obtain a means of actually weighing the relative masses of the sun and moon. This is one of the remarkable facts which can be deduced from a prolonged study of the tides.

The demonstration of the law of the tide-producing force is of a mathematical character, and I do not intend in these lectures to enter into mathematical calculations. There is, however, a simple line of reasoning which, though it falls far short of actual demonstration, may yet suffice to give a plausible reason for the law.

The tides really owe their origin to the fact that the tide-producing agent operates more powerfully on those parts of the tide-exhibiting body which are near to it, than on the more distant portions of the same. The nearer the two bodies are together, the larger proportionally will be the differences in the distances of its various parts from the tide-producing body; and on this account the leverage, so to speak, of the action by which the tides are produced is increased. For instance, if the two bodies were brought within half their original distance of each other, the relative size of each body, as viewed from the other, will be doubled; and what we have called the leverage of the tide-producing ability will be increased twofold. The gravitation also between the two bodies is increased fourfold when the distance is halved, and consequently, the tide-producing ability is doubled for one reason, and increased fourfold again by another; hence, the tides will be increased eightfold when the distance is reduced to one half. Now, as eight is the cube of two, this illustration may be taken as a verification of the law, that the efficiency of a body as a tide-producer varies inversely as the cube of the distance between it and the body on which the tides are being raised.

For simplicity we may make the assumption that the whole of the earth is buried beneath the ocean, and that the moon is placed in the plane of the equator. We may also entirely neglect for the present the tides produced by the sun, and we shall also make the further assumption that friction is absent. What friction is capable of doing we shall, however, refer to later on. The moon will act on the ocean and deform it, so that there will be high tide along one meridian, and high tide also on the opposite meridian. This is indeed one of the paradoxes by which students are frequently puzzled when they begin to learn about the tides. That the moon should pull the water up in a heap on one side seems plausible enough. High tide will of course be there; and the student might naturally think that the water being drawn in this way into a heap on one side, there will of course be low tide on the opposite side of the earth. A natural assumption, perhaps, but nevertheless a very wrong one. There are at every moment two opposite parts of the earth in a condition of high water; in fact, this will be obvious if we remember that every day, or, to speak a little more accurately, in every twenty-four hours and fifty one minutes, we have on the average two high tides at each locality. Of course this could not be if the moon raised only one heap of high water, because, as the moon only appears to revolve around the earth once a day, or, more accurately, once in that same average period of twenty-four hours and fifty-one minutes, it would be impossible for us to have high tides succeeding each other as they do in periods a little longer than twelve hours, if only one heap were carried round the earth.

The first question then is, as to how these two opposite heaps of water are placed in respect to the position of the moon. The most obvious explanation would seem to be, that the moon should pull the waters up into a heap directly underneath it, and that therefore there should be high water underneath the moon. As to the other side, the presence of a high tide there was, on this theory, to be accounted for by the fact that the moon pulled the earth away from the waters on the more remote side, just as it pulled the waters away from the more remote earth on the side underneath the moon. It is, however, certainly not the case that the high tide is situated in the simple position that this law would indicate, and which we have represented in Fig. 1, where the circular body is the earth, the ocean surrounding which is distorted by the action of the tides.

Fig. 1

We have here taken an oval to represent the shape into which the water is supposed to be forced or drawn by the tidal action of the tide-producing body. This may possibly be a correct representation of what would occur on an ideal globe entirely covered with a frictionless ocean. But as our earth is not covered entirely by water, and as the ocean is very far from being frictionless, the ideal tide is not the tide that we actually know; nor is the ideal tide represented by this oval even an approximation to the actual tides to which our oceans are subject. Indeed, the oval does not represent the facts at all, and of this it is only necessary to adduce a single fact in demonstration. I take the fundamental issue so often debated, as to whether in the ocean vibrating with ideal tides the high water or the low water should be under the moon. Or to put the matter otherwise; when we represent the displaced water by an oval, is the long axis of the oval to be turned to the moon, as generally supposed, or is it to be directed at right angles therefrom? If the ideal tides were in any degree representative of the actual tides, so fundamental a question as this could be at once answered by an appeal to the facts of observation. Even if friction in some degree masked the phenomena, surely one would think that the state of the actual tides should still enable us to answer this question.