I had not duly taken account of the perverse temper of the officers of health, whose chief object in life seems everywhere to be to make their authority felt by the needless annoyance they cause to unoffending fellow-creatures. We had left Rio with a clean bill of health; not a single case of yellow fever had occurred for months before our departure; but Brazil is regarded as permanently “suspected,” and quarantine regulations were strictly enforced in our case.
I am far from believing that in certain conditions, and as regards certain diseases, judicious quarantine regulations may not be effective; but, reckoning up all the loss and inconvenience, and the positive damage to health, arising from the sanitary regulations now enforced, I question whether it would not be better for the world if the system were entirely abolished.
The view of St. Vincent, backed by a bold and stern mountain mass, on which scarcely a trace of vegetation is visible from a distance, was for some time sufficiently interesting; but as the day wore on, and the sun beat down more fiercely, life on board became less agreeable. To keep out the penetrating coal dust all the ports were closed, and, with the thermometer at 90°, the air below was stifling, and the passengers generally preferred to remain on deck, and breathe the hot air mixed with the coal dust that arose from the open bunkers.
I offered two of the boatmen who hung about the ship three milreis if they would land on an uninhabited part of the bay, which I pointed out to them, and collect for me every plant they found growing, and I was well pleased when, after two or three hours, they returned with a respectable bundle of green foliage. Under the vigilant eyes of the officers of health the specimens were hauled up to the deck, while the three dollars were thrown into the boat. It is remarkable that coin is nowhere supposed to convey contagion.
When I came to examine it, I found to my disgust that the bouquet included only the leaves of two species, with no trace of flower or fruit. One was most probably Nicotiana glauca, introduced from tropical America; the other a leguminous shrub, possibly a Cassia, but quite uncertain.
The rest of the passengers spent most of the day in bargaining with the hucksters who flocked round the ship. Ornaments made from palm leaves, sweetmeats of very suspicious appearance, photographs, and tobacco in various forms, were the chief articles of traffic, and the main object seemed to be to prolong the chaffering and bargaining over each article so as to kill as much time as possible. More attractive in appearance were the tropical fruits, of which those suitable to a dry climate grow here in perfection. In spite of persevering efforts, I have never developed much appreciation of the banana as an article of diet, but I thought those obtained here much the best that I have anywhere eaten.
ATLANTIC TRADE WINDS.
General satisfaction was felt when, the work of coaling being finished, the ship was again in motion, with her head set towards Europe. On returning to the channel between the islands, and still more when we had got well out to sea, we encountered a rather strong breeze right ahead, which with varying force continued for the next four days. This was, of course, the regular trade-wind of the North Atlantic, and had the agreeable effect of lowering the temperature, which at once fell to 78°. Along with the trade-wind, the sea-current apparently travels in the same direction. It is certain that the temperature of the water was here much lower. Before reaching St. Vincent we found it between 80° and 81° Fahr., while after leaving the islands it had fallen to 74°. This temperature remained nearly constant for three days, but on the evening of the 9th, in about 27° north latitude, we abruptly encountered another current of still cooler water, in which the thermometer fell to 69°.
The force of the wind never, I think, exceeded what seamen describe as a fresh breeze, but it sufficed to cause at times considerable disturbance of the surface; and on the afternoon of the 6th we shipped some heavy seas, so that it was found expedient to slacken speed for a time.
I have alluded in a former page to the ordinary observation that in the track of the trade-winds the breeze usually falls off about sunset. It is more difficult to account for the opposite phenomenon, which we experienced on three successive evenings from the 7th to the 9th of August, when the force of the wind increased in a marked degree after nightfall.
I was also struck by the fact that the temperature of the air throughout the voyage from St. Vincent to the mouth of the Tagus seemed to be unaffected either by the varying force of the wind or by the fall in surface-temperature of the sea, to which I have above referred. On board ship in clear weather it is very difficult to ascertain the true shade temperature when the sun is much above the horizon, but the observations made at sunrise and after nightfall from the evening of the 5th to the morning of the 11th varied very slightly, the utmost range being from 77·5° to 73°.
Some points in the Canary Islands are often visible in the voyage from Brazil to Europe, especially the lofty peak of Palma; but we passed this part of the course at night, and nothing was seen. As we drew near to Europe, the wind, through keeping the same direction, gradually fell off to a gentle breeze, and the surface of the water became glassy smooth, heaving gently in long undulations. The relative effect of smooth or rough water on the speed of steamers is remarkable, and was shown by the fact that during the twenty-four hours ending at noon on the 11th of August the Tagus accomplished a run of 295 knots, while three days before, with only a gentle breeze but rougher water, the run to noon was only 240 knots.
THE TOWER OF BELEM.
Early in the afternoon of the 11th, the Rock of Lisbon at the mouth of the Tagus was distinctly visible, and we slowly entered the river and cast anchor at the quarantine station below Belem. Our captain, after the experience of St. Vincent, did not expect to obtain pratique at Lisbon, and with more or less grumbling the passengers had made up their minds to remain on board, when, after a long deliberation, the unexpected news, “admitted to pratique,” was rapidly spread through the ship, and we moved up to the anchorage opposite the picturesque old tower of Belem, which the true mariner must always regard as one of his holy places. It marks the spot wherefrom Vasco de Gama and his companions, after a night spent in prayer in the adjoining chapel, embarked on their memorable voyage, and here, after years of anxious uncertainty, King Manuel greeted the survivors on their return to their country.
The sun was sinking when such passengers as wished to see something of Lisbon took the opportunity for going ashore, while others, like myself, preferred to remain on board. Hoping to receive letters at the post-office, I landed early next morning, and found a tramcar to carry me to the centre of the town. Early hours are not in much honour at Lisbon. I found the post-office closed, and, after several vain efforts, was informed that letters could not be delivered until ten o’clock, the precise hour fixed for our departure from the anchorage at Belem.
The voyage from Lisbon along the coasts of Portugal and Galicia is usually enjoyed, even by fair-weather sailors. The case is often otherwise with the Bay of Biscay, but on this occasion there was nothing of which the most fastidious could complain. I have sometimes doubted whether injustice has not been done to that much-abused bay, which, in truth, is not rightly so called by those bound from the north to the coast of Portugal. It is simply a part of the Atlantic Ocean, adjoining the coast of Europe between latitudes 43° 46′ and 48° 28′. I have not been able to ascertain that the wind blows harder, or that the sea runs higher there than elsewhere in the same latitudes, and am inclined to rank the prejudice against that particular tract of sea-water among vulgar errors.
The adventurer who has attempted to open up a trade with some distant region is accustomed, as he returns home, to count up the profits of his expedition; and in somewhat the same spirit the man who pursues natural knowledge can scarcely fail to take stock of the results of a journey. It is his happy privilege to reckon up none but gains, and those of a kind that bring abiding satisfaction. He may feel some regret that outer circumstance or his own shortcoming have allowed opportunities to escape, and lessened the store that he has been able to accumulate; but as for the positive drawbacks, which seemed but trivial at the time, they absolutely disappear in the recollection of his experiences. Thinking of these things as the journey drew to a close, I could not help feeling how great are the rewards that a traveller reaps, even irrespective of anything he may learn, or of the suggestions to thought that a voyage of this kind cannot fail to bear with it. How much is life made fuller and richer by the stock of images laid up in the marvellous storehouse of the brain, to be summoned, one knows not when or how, by some hidden train of association – shifting scenes that serve to beautify many a common and prosaic moment of life!
PSEUDO-PESSIMISM.
Often during this return voyage my thoughts recurred to an article in some periodical lent to me by my kind friends at Petropolis, wherein the writer, with seeming gravity, discussed the question whether life is worth living. My first impression, as I well remember, was somewhat contemptuous pity for the man whose mind could be so profoundly diseased as even to ask such a question, as for a soldier who, with the trumpet-call sounding in his ear, should stop to inquire whether the battle was worth fighting. When one remembers how full life is of appeals to the active faculties of man, and how the exertion of each of these brings its correlative satisfaction; how the world, in the first place, needs the daily labour of the majority of our race; how much there is yet to be learned, and how much to be taught to the ignorant; what constant demand there is for the spirit of sympathy to alleviate suffering in our fellows; how much beauty exists to be enjoyed, and, it may be, to be brought home to others; – one is tempted to ask if the man who halts to discuss whether life is worth living can have a mind to care for truth, or a heart to feel for others, or a soul accessible to the sense of beauty.
Recurring to the subject, as I sometimes did during the homeward voyage, it seemed to me that I had perhaps treated the matter too seriously, and that the article I had read was an elaborate hoax, by which the writer, while in truth laughing at his readers, sought merely to astonish and to gain repute as an original thinker. However the fact may be, when taken in connection with the shallow pessimism which, through various channels, has of late filtered into much modern literature, there does appear to be some real danger that the disease may spread among the weaker portion of the young generation. A new fashion, however absurd or mischievous, is sure to have attractions for the feebler forms of human vanity. It is true that there is little danger that the genuine doctrine will spread widely, but the mere masquerade of pessimism may do unimagined mischief. The better instincts of man’s nature are not so firmly rooted that we should wish to see the spread of any influence that directly allies itself with his selfish and cowardly tendencies.
To any young man who has been touched by the contagion of such doctrines, I should recommend a journey long enough and distant enough to bring him into contact with new and varied aspects of nature and of human society. Removed from the daily round of monotonous occupation, or, far worse, of monotonous idleness, life is thus presented in larger and truer proportions, and in a nature not quite worthless some chord must be touched that will stir the springs of healthy action. If there be in truth such beings as genuine and incurable pessimists, the stern believer in progress will be tempted to say that the sooner they carry out their doctrine to its logical result the better it will be for the race. Their continued existence, where it is not merely useless, must be altogether a mischief to their fellow-creatures.
RETURN TO ENGLAND.
On the morning of the 16th of August, all but completing five months since I quitted her shores, the coast of England was dimly descried amid gusts of cold wind and showers of drizzling rain. My winter experiences in the Straits of Magellan were forcibly recalled to my mind, and I felt some partial satisfaction in the seeming confirmation of the conclusion which I had already reached – that the physical differences between the conditions of life in the northern and southern hemispheres are not nearly so great as has generally been supposed.
APPENDIX A
ON THE FALL OF TEMPERATURE IN ASCENDING TO HEIGHTS ABOVE THE SEA-LEVEL
The remarkable features of the climate of Western Peru referred to in the text seem to me to admit of a partial explanation from the local conditions affecting that region. The most important of these are the prevalence of a relatively cold oceanic current, and of accompanying southerly breezes along the Peruvian coast. These not only directly affect the temperature of the air and the soil in the coast-zone, but, by causing fogs throughout a considerable part of the year, intercept a large share of solar radiation. It has been found in Northern Chili, some fifteen degrees farther south than Lima, but under similar climatal conditions, that, although the land rises rather rapidly in receding from the coast, the mean temperature increases with increasing height for a considerable distance. It is stated on good authority48 that at Potrero Grande, a place about fifty miles distant, and 850 metres above the sea, the mean annual temperature is higher by 2·5 °C. than at Copiapò, or at the adjoining port of Caldera. It is probable that in the valley of the Rimac the mean temperature at a height of 1000 metres is at least as high as it is at Lima. Taking the mean temperature of the lower station at 19·2 °C., and that of Chicla at 12·2 °C., that would give a fall of 7° for a difference of level of 2724 metres, or an average fall of 1° for 387 metres, instead of 1° for 512 metres, as given in the text.
A further peculiarity in the climate, which tends to diminish below the normal amount the rate of decrease of temperature, is the comparative absence of strong winds, and the feebleness of the sea-breezes which are usually so conspicuous in the tropics. For reasons that will be further noticed, the fall in temperature in ascending mountain ranges is largely due to currents of air carried up from the lower region. In mountain countries an air-current, encountering a range transverse to its own direction, is mechanically forced to rise along the slopes, and thus raises large masses of air to a higher level; the same effect in a less degree occurs with isolated peaks. But in the Peruvian Andes, as well as in many other parts of the great range, although storms arise from local causes on the plateau, westerly winds from the ocean are infrequent and feeble; and the sea-breezes, due to the heating of the soil by day, much less sensible than usual in warm countries.
Making full allowance for the operation of the two causes here specified, it yet appears that the difference of temperature between the coast and the higher slopes of the Peruvian Andes is exceptionally small. It is not merely due to the abnormal cooling of the coast-zone, but to the exceptionally high temperature found in the zone ranging from 3500 to 4000 metres. I should not have attached much importance to the few observations of the thermometer that I was able to make during a hurried visit, if the conclusion which they suggest had not been strongly confirmed by the character and aspect of the vegetation.
When I found that the table given by Humboldt, which has been copied and adopted by so many writers on physics, in which the mean temperature at a height of 2000 toises, or 3898 metres, in the Andes of Ecuador, close to the equator, is set down at 7°, while at Chicla, thirteen degrees of latitude south, at a height less only by 174 metres, there is reason to believe that we find a mean annual temperature of not less than 12°, I was led to enter more fully into the subject.
The result of somewhat careful study has been to convince me that, while the physical principles involved in the attempt to discover the vertical distribution of temperature in the atmosphere prove the problem to be one of extreme complexity, the results hitherto obtained from observation are altogether insufficient to guide us to an approximate law of distribution. I may remark that the problem has not merely a general interest in connection with the physics of the globe, but has a direct bearing on two practical applications of science. The observations of the astronomer and the surveyor require a knowledge of the amount of atmospheric refraction, by which the apparent positions of the heavenly bodies, or of distant terrestrial objects, are made to differ from the true direction; and to determine accurately the amount of refraction we should know the temperature of the successive strata of air intervening between the observer and the object. In determining heights by means of the barometer, or any other instrument for measuring the pressure of the air, it is equally necessary for accuracy to know the variations of temperature in the space between the higher and the lower station.
Three different opinions have prevailed among physicists as to the law, or supposed law, of the rate of variation of temperature in ascending from the sea-level. The simplest supposition, and the most convenient in practice, is that the fall of temperature is directly proportional to the height, and this has been adopted in several physical treatises. In English works the rate has been stated at a fall of 1° Fahr. for 300 feet of ascent, and by French writers the not quite equivalent rate of 1 °C. for 170 metres has been adopted. The formula proposed by Laplace for the determination of heights from barometric observations, which has been very generally adopted by travellers and men of science, implicitly assumes that the rate of decrease of temperature is more rapid as we ascend to the higher regions than it is near the sea-level, and this opinion was explicitly affirmed by Biot in his memoirs on atmospheric refraction. A third hypothesis may be said to have originated when, in 1862, Mr. Glaisher made his report of the results of the famous balloon ascents effected by him and Mr. Coxwell,49 and among others exhibited a table showing the average decline of temperature corresponding to each successive thousand feet increase of elevation from the sea-level to a height of 29,000 English feet.
As Mr. Glaisher’s tables showed a gradual decline in the rate of fall of temperature with increasing height, they clearly did not accord with the ordinary assumption of an uniform rate, and still less with the hypothesis of Laplace and Biot. In February, 1864, Count Paul de St. Robert, of Turin, communicated to the Philosophical Magazine a short paper, in which he showed the incompatibility of Mr. Glaisher’s results with the ordinary formulæ for the reduction of barometric observations, and proposed a new formula based on a law of decrement of heat based upon Mr. Glaisher’s tables. In the following June, M. de St. Robert published in the same journal a further paper, in which, still accepting Mr. Glaisher’s results as accurate, he investigated the subject in a masterly manner, as well with reference to the measurement of heights, as in its connection with the determination of the amount of atmospheric refraction. The formula proposed by M. de St. Robert, and the tables subsequently published by him for its adaptation to use, appearing to be at once the most accurate and the most convenient, have been adopted by myself and by many other travellers;50 but it is evident that their value depends on the correctness of the results, above referred to, deduced by Mr. Glaisher, and their conformity with observation in mountain countries.
Before we inquire into the conclusions to be drawn from observation, it may be well to point out how incomplete is our knowledge of the physical agencies which regulate the distribution of temperature in the atmosphere.
The primary source of temperature is solar radiation, and its effect at any given point on the earth’s surface depends on the absolute amount of heating power in the sun’s rays, irrespective of absorption, commonly designated the solar constant, and on the proportion of heat which is lost by absorption in passing through the atmosphere. The temperature of the air at any point will, in the first place, depend on the amount of solar radiation and of heat radiated from terrestrial objects directly absorbed, and next on the heating of the strata near the surface by convection. The amount of heat received from the sun, directly or indirectly, varies of course with the sun’s declination at the time, and the length of the day at the place of observation. When the sun is below the horizon the air loses heat by radiation, and still more, in the strata near the surface, by convection to surfaces cooled by radiation.
It was until lately believed that the experiments of Herschel and Pouillet had given an approximate measure of the absolute intensity of solar radiation, and that the proportion absorbed by the atmosphere at the sea-level at a vertical incidence might be estimated at about one-fourth of the whole. It is not too much to say that the recent researches of Mr. Langley, especially those detailed in his Report of the Mount Whitney expedition,51 have completely revolutionized this department of physics. It now appears that the true value of the solar constant is not much less than twice as great as the previous estimate, and that rather more than one-third is absorbed by the atmosphere before reaching the sea-level. Mr. Langley has further proved that the absorptive action of the atmosphere varies with the wave-length of the rays, and that, omitting the “cold bands” which correspond to the dark bands in the visible spectrum, it diminishes as the wave-length increases. It further appears highly probable that the larger part of the absorptive action of the atmosphere is due to the aqueous vapour, the carbonic acid gas, and the minute floating particles of solid matter, which are present in variable proportions. Allowing for the probable extension of our knowledge by further research, it is yet evident that, even if we had not to take into account the further elements of the problem next to be specified, the distribution of heat in the atmosphere, as dependent on solar radiation, is a question of extreme complexity.
The action of winds has an important effect in modifying the temperature of the air. It is not possible to draw a distinct line between the great air-currents, which affect large areas, and slight breezes, depending on local causes, and limited to the lower strata of the atmosphere; but in relation to the present subject it is necessary to distinguish between them. There is a general circulation in the aërial envelope covering the earth, caused by unequal heating of different parts of the surface. Heated air rises in the equatorial zone, and its place is filled by currents from the temperate and subtropical zones. The heated air from the equator flows at first as an upper current towards the poles, but as it gradually loses its high temperature, it becomes mixed with the currents setting from the poles towards the equator, causing the atmospheric disturbances and variable winds characteristic of the cooler temperate zones. As a rule, bodies of air of different temperatures do not very quickly mix, but tend to arrange themselves in layers or strata in which masses of unequal temperature are superposed. It is obvious that in such a condition, where a layer of colder air lies between two having a higher temperature, the whole cannot be in a state of equilibrium. But in nature we constantly find that equilibrium is never attained. There is a continual tendency towards equilibrium, along with fresh disturbances which alter the conditions.
As Professor Stokes remarks in a letter on this subject with which he favoured me, “to know the temperature of the successive strata as we ascend in a balloon, we should know the biographies of the different strata.” Those which are now superposed may have been hundreds of miles apart twenty-four hours before. It follows that without a knowledge of the course and velocity of the higher currents existing in the atmosphere, we cannot expect to learn the vertical distribution of temperature.
Apart from the effects of the great movements of the air, there is another effect of air-currents to be considered, which tends especially to modify the temperature found at or near the earth’s surface. The heating of the surface by day, and the cooling by night, determine the existence of local currents of ascending or descending air. In rising, the air encounters diminished pressure, and therefore expands, and in so doing overcomes resistance. The molecular work involved in dilatation is performed at the expense of the other form of molecular work which we call heat. In other words, the air in ascending loses heat. It is found that the amount of decrement of temperature due to the ascent of a body of air is nearly exactly 1 °C. for 100 metres. As a general rule, ascending currents arise from the surfaces exposed to the sun during the day, and must largely contribute to produce the rapid decrement of heat which is found in the lower strata near the surface, as compared with the rate of change in the higher regions; but it will be obvious that the amount of effect produced by this cause is subject to continual variation from changes in local conditions. The nature of the soil, the extent and character of the vegetation, the form of the surface, are all elements which modify the amount of disturbance in the equilibrium of the surrounding atmosphere. As above remarked, in discussing the climate of Western Peru, prevailing winds which impinge upon a range of mountains may indirectly affect the temperature of the higher region by mechanically forcing masses of air to rise along the slopes, and ultimately, by expansion, to be cooled much below the temperature which they possessed when they originally flowed against the slopes.
One of the most important agencies affecting the distribution of temperature in the atmosphere arises from the presence of aqueous vapour. In its invisible condition it affects the absorptive power of the air on the solar rays, and, when condensed in the form of cloud, it acts as a screen, intercepting most of the calorific rays which would otherwise reach the earth. But it is especially through the large amount of heat consumed in converting water into vapour, and set free when vapour returns to the fluid state, that the temperature of the air is largely modified. When we consider that in converting a given volume – say, one cubic metre – of water into vapour, enough heat is consumed to lower about 1,650,000 cubic metres of air by 1 °C. in temperature, and that the same amount of heat is liberated when the vapour so produced returns to the liquid state, we perceive how powerfully the ordinary processes of evaporation and condensation must affect the temperature of the air.
It is needless to analyze further the several agencies which, sometimes co-operating, and sometimes in mutual opposition, determine the vertical distribution of temperature in the atmosphere. It is but too obvious that no approach to uniformity can be expected, and it might even be anticipated that any approximation to a regular law of distribution that should be found under one set of conditions – as, for instance, in serene weather by day – would be altogether inapplicable under different conditions, such as exist in stormy weather, or by night.
The need for practical application of some empirical rule, or law, of vertical distribution has made it necessary to appeal to the results of observation, and for this object the only existing materials are to be found in the records of balloon ascents, and in the observations made on high mountains. In balloon ascents the temperature at any considerable height is free from the disturbances caused by the vicinity of the earth’s surface, and the results might be expected to contribute to the more accurate determination of the amount of atmospheric refraction. For the measurement of heights by the barometer, it would appear safer to rely on such information as may be gleaned from mountain observations.
Of balloon ascents by far the most important are those achieved in 1862 by Messrs. Glaisher and Coxwell, to which I have referred in a preceding page. Mr. Glaisher has given in his report a full record of the actual observations made in the course of his eight ascents, and has explained the processes by which he constructed the successive tables, from which he deduced as the final result a continuous decline (unbroken save in a single instance) in the rate of decrement of temperature found in passing through each successive zone of 1000 feet, in ascending from the sea-level to a height of 29,000 English feet.
I am not aware that the processes employed by Mr. Glaisher in obtaining these results have ever been subjected to such close scrutiny as their importance demands, and as I have found on careful examination that his results are not borne out by the actual observations, I am forced to express my dissent from his conclusions. The admiration due to the courage, skill, and perseverance displayed by Mr. Glaisher throughout these memorable ascents will not be lessened if we should find it necessary to modify the inferences which he has drawn from them.