The considerations to be here developed have scarcely as yet drawn the attention of astronomers; there is hardly anything to cite except an ingenious idea of Lord Kelvin’s, which has opened a new field of research, but still waits to be followed out. Nor have I original results to impart, and all I can do is to give an idea of the problems presented, but which no one hitherto has undertaken to solve. Every one knows how a large number of modern physicists represent the constitution of gases; gases are formed of an innumerable multitude of molecules which, at high speeds, cross and crisscross in every direction. These molecules probably act at a distance one upon another, but this action decreases very rapidly with distance, so that their trajectories remain sensibly straight; they cease to be so only when two molecules happen to pass very near to each other; in this case, their mutual attraction or repulsion makes them deviate to right or left. This is what is sometimes called an impact; but the word impact is not to be understood in its usual sense; it is not necessary that the two molecules come into contact, it suffices that they approach sufficiently near each other for their mutual attractions to become sensible. The laws of the deviation they undergo are the same as for a veritable impact.

It seems at first that the disorderly impacts of this innumerable dust can engender only an inextricable chaos before which analysis must recoil. But the law of great numbers, that supreme law of chance, comes to our aid; in presence of a semi-disorder, we must despair, but in extreme disorder, this statistical law reestablishes a sort of mean order where the mind can recover. It is the study of this mean order which constitutes the kinetic theory of gases; it shows us that the velocities of the molecules are equally distributed among all the directions, that the rapidity of these velocities varies from one molecule to another, but that even this variation is subject to a law called Maxwell’s law. This law tells us how many of the molecules move with such and such a velocity. As soon as the gas departs from this law, the mutual impacts of the molecules, in modifying the rapidity and direction of their velocities, tend to bring it promptly back. Physicists have striven, not without success, to explain in this way the experimental properties of gases; for example Mariotte’s law.

Consider now the milky way; there also we see an innumerable dust; only the grains of this dust are not atoms, they are stars; these grains move also with high velocities; they act at a distance one upon another, but this action is so slight at great distance that their trajectories are straight; and yet, from time to time, two of them may approach near enough to be deviated from their path, like a comet which has passed too near Jupiter. In a word, to the eyes of a giant for whom our suns would be as for us our atoms, the milky way would seem only a bubble of gas.

Such was Lord Kelvin’s leading idea. What may be drawn from this comparison? In how far is it exact? This is what we are to investigate together; but before reaching a definite conclusion, and without wishing to prejudge it, we foresee that the kinetic theory of gases will be for the astronomer a model he should not follow blindly, but from which he may advantageously draw inspiration. Up to the present, celestial mechanics has attacked only the solar system or certain systems of double stars. Before the assemblage presented by the milky way, or the agglomeration of stars, or the resolvable nebulae it recoils, because it sees therein only chaos. But the milky way is not more complicated than a gas; the statistical methods founded upon the calculus of probabilities applicable to a gas are also applicable to it. Before all, it is important to grasp the resemblance of the two cases, and their difference.

Lord Kelvin has striven to determine in this manner the dimensions of the milky way; for that we are reduced to counting the stars visible in our telescopes; but we are not sure that behind the stars we see, there are not others we do not see; so that what we should measure in this way would not be the size of the milky way, it would be the range of our instruments.

The new theory comes to offer us other resources. In fact, we know the motions of the stars nearest us, and we can form an idea of the rapidity and direction of their velocities. If the ideas above set forth are exact, these velocities should follow Maxwell’s law, and their mean value will tell us, so to speak, that which corresponds to the temperature of our fictitious gas. But this temperature depends itself upon the dimensions of our gas bubble. In fact, how will a gaseous mass let loose in the void act, if its elements attract one another according to Newton’s law? It will take a spherical form; moreover, because of gravitation, the density will be greater at the center, the pressure also will increase from the surface to the center because of the weight of the outer parts drawn toward the center; finally, the temperature will increase toward the center: the temperature and the pressure being connected by the law called adiabatic, as happens in the successive layers of our atmosphere. At the surface itself, the pressure will be null, and it will be the same with the absolute temperature, that is to say with the velocity of the molecules.

A question comes here: I have spoken of the adiabatic law, but this law is not the same for all gases, since it depends upon the ratio of their two specific heats; for the air and like gases, this ratio is 1.42; but is it to air that it is proper to liken the milky way? Evidently not, it should be regarded as a mono-atomic gas, like mercury vapor, like argon, like helium, that is to say that the ratio of the specific heats should be taken equal to 1.66. And, in fact, one of our molecules would be for example the solar system; but the planets are very small personages, the sun alone counts, so that our molecule is indeed mono-atomic. And even if we take a double star, it is probable that the action of a strange star which might approach it would become sufficiently sensible to deviate the motion of general translation of the system much before being able to trouble the relative orbits of the two components; the double star, in a word, would act like an indivisible atom.

However that may be, the pressure, and consequently the temperature, at the center of the gaseous sphere would be by so much the greater as the sphere was larger since the pressure increases by the weight of all the superposed layers. We may suppose that we are nearly at the center of the milky way, and by observing the mean proper velocity of the stars, we shall know that which corresponds to the central temperature of our gaseous sphere and we shall determine its radius.

We may get an idea of the result by the following considerations: make a simpler hypothesis: the milky way is spherical, and in it the masses are distributed in a homogeneous manner; thence results that the stars in it describe ellipses having the same center. If we suppose the velocity becomes nothing at the surface, we may calculate this velocity at the center by the equation of vis viva. Thus we find that this velocity is proportional to the radius of the sphere and to the square root of its density. If the mass of this sphere was that of the sun and its radius that of the terrestrial orbit, this velocity would be (it is easy to see) that of the earth in its orbit. But in the case we have supposed, the mass of the sun should be distributed in a sphere of radius 1,000,000 times greater, this radius being the distance of the nearest stars; the density is therefore 1018 times less; now, the velocities are of the same order, therefore it is necessary that the radius be 109 times greater, be 1,000 times the distance of the nearest stars, which would give about a thousand millions of stars in the milky way.

But you will say these hypothesis differ greatly from the reality; first, the milky way is not spherical and we shall soon return to this point, and again the kinetic theory of gases is not compatible with the hypothesis of a homogeneous sphere. But in making the exact calculation according to this theory, we should find a different result, doubtless, but of the same order of magnitude; now in such a problem the data are so uncertain that the order of magnitude is the sole end to be aimed at.

And here a first remark presents itself; Lord Kelvin’s result, which I have obtained again by an approximative calculation, agrees sensibly with the evaluations the observers have made with their telescopes; so that we must conclude we are very near to piercing through the milky way. But that enables us to answer another question. There are the stars we see because they shine; but may there not be dark stars circulating in the interstellar spaces whose existence might long remain unknown? But then, what Lord Kelvin’s method would give us would be the total number of stars, including the dark stars; as his figure is comparable to that the telescope gives, this means there is no dark matter, or at least not so much as of shining matter.

Before going further, we must look at the problem from another angle. Is the milky way thus constituted truly the image of a gas properly so called? You know Crookes has introduced the notion of a fourth state of matter, where gases having become too rarefied are no longer true gases and become what he calls radiant matter. Considering the slight density of the milky way, is it the image of gaseous matter or of radiant matter? The consideration of what is called the free path will furnish us the answer.

The trajectory of a gaseous molecule may be regarded as formed of straight segments united by very small arcs corresponding to the successive impacts. The length of each of these segments is what is called the free path; of course this length is not the same for all the segments and for all the molecules; but we may take a mean; this is what is called the mean path. This is the greater the less the density of the gas. The matter will be radiant if the mean path is greater than the dimensions of the receptacle wherein the gas is enclosed, so that a molecule has a chance to go across the whole receptacle without undergoing an impact; if the contrary be the case, it is gaseous. From this it follows that the same fluid may be radiant in a little receptacle and gaseous in a big one; this perhaps is why, in a Crookes tube, it is necessary to make the vacuum by so much the more complete as the tube is larger.

How is it then for the milky way? This is a mass of gas of which the density is very slight, but whose dimensions are very great; has a star chances of traversing it without undergoing an impact, that is to say without passing sufficiently near another star to be sensibly deviated from its route! What do we mean by sufficiently near? That is perforce a little arbitrary; take it as the distance from the sun to Neptune, which would represent a deviation of a dozen degrees; suppose therefore each of our stars surrounded by a protective sphere of this radius; could a straight pass between these spheres? At the mean distance of the stars of the milky way, the radius of these spheres will be seen under an angle of about a tenth of a second; and we have a thousand millions of stars. Put upon the celestial sphere a thousand million little circles of a tenth of a second radius. Are the chances that these circles will cover a great number of times the celestial sphere? Far from it; they will cover only its sixteen thousandth part. So the milky way is not the image of gaseous matter, but of Crookes’ radiant matter. Nevertheless, as our foregoing conclusions are happily not at all precise, we need not sensibly modify them.

But there is another difficulty: the milky way is not spherical, and we have reasoned hitherto as if it were, since this is the form of equilibrium a gas isolated in space would take. To make amends, agglomerations of stars exist whose form is globular and to which would better apply what we have hitherto said. Herschel has already endeavored to explain their remarkable appearances. He supposed the stars of the aggregates uniformly distributed, so that an assemblage is a homogeneous sphere; each star would then describe an ellipse and all these orbits would be passed over in the same time, so that at the end of a period the aggregate would take again its primitive configuration and this configuration would be stable. Unluckily, the aggregates do not appear to be homogeneous; we see a condensation at the center, we should observe it even were the sphere homogeneous, since it is thicker at the center; but it would not be so accentuated. We may therefore rather compare an aggregate to a gas in adiabatic equilibrium, which takes the spherical form because this is the figure of equilibrium of a gaseous mass.

But, you will say, these aggregates are much smaller th............