THE END OF THE WORLD.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVIII, Issue 8538, 11 April 1891, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE END OF THE WORLD.

Of all changes, that change has most interest for us which affects our own planet, the earth. . It has reached a later stage than Saturn, though not so late a stage as the moon ; but only in long ages and by minute effects will further changes be noted. Ages hence it may be discovered that there is some slight change in the earth's orbit ; or Mercury, yet nearer to the sun than we, may be seen to pursue a smaller orbit than now, and the terrible fact may come home to man that we are drawing nearer to the sun. Time goes on, and the tropics become too hot for existence, and colder regions find a welcome change to warmth. Age after age goes by, and the end is, visibly, no nearer ; but the figures of astronomers only too surely tell their tale. In time the tropics will become an impassable desert and all the life on the globe will congregate around the poles. Spain has lost her vineyards and the Alps their snow ; England is a _ burning desert and Greenland teems with the vegetation of the tropics; in smaller and smaller circles the inhabitants gather round the poles, "But," to quote the words of Mr. Keightley Miller, "the narrowed limits of the habitable earth can no longer support this vast increase of population, and famine begins to mow down its victims by millions. Now, indeed, the end of all life draws on apace. The heat and drought become more and more insupportable, rain and dew fall no longer. All springs of water fail, and the rivers dwindle down to streamlets and trickle slowly over their stony beds, and now scarcity of water is added to scarcity of food. Those who escape from the famine, perish by the drought, and those who escape the drought are reserved for a fate more awful yet. For a time the few remaining inhabitants are partially screened from the overwhelming power of the sun by a dense canopy of clouds formed by the evaporation of every lake and sea. But soon the sun scorches up these vapour banks and dissipates them into space as fast as they can form.. Then the fiery orb shines out in an unutterable splendour without the slightest cloud-wreath to interpose between himself and his victims. Then the last denizens of the world are stricken down and consumed—the last traces of organic life are blotted from its surface,"—Loughman's Magazine. "• ' '