The new method in the hands of CAPTAIN COOK and other great navigators led to a rapid development of navigation and the discovery of Australia and New Zealand, and a number of islands in the Pacific. The building up of the vast oceanic commerce of Great Britain and of her great colonial empire, both in North America and in the Southern Oceans, has arisen out of the work of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, and has had a real and intimate connection with it.
To observe the motions of the Moon, Sun, and planets, and to determine with the greatest possible precision the places of the stars have been the programme of Greenwich Observatory from its foundation to the present time. Other great national observatories have been Copenhagen, founded in 1637; Paris, in 1667; Berlin, in 1700; St. Petersburg, in 1725, superseded by that of Pulkowa, in 1839; and Washington, in 1842; while not a few of the great universities have also efficient observatories connected with them.
Of the directly practical results of astronomy, thepromotion of navigation stands in the first rank. But the science has never been limited to merely utilitarian inquiries, and the problem of measuring celestial distances has followed on inevitably from the measurement of the Earth.
The first distance to be attacked was that of the nearest companion to the Earth,i.e.the Moon. It often happens on our own planet that it is required to find the distance of an object beyond our reach. Thus a general on the march may come to a river and need to know exactly how broad it is, that he may prepare the means for bridging it. Such problems are usually solved on the following principle. Let A be the distant object. Then if the direction of A be observed from each of two stations, B and C, and the distance of B from C be measured, it is possible to calculate the distances of A from B and from C. The application of this principle to the measurement of the Moon's distance was made by the establishment of an observatory at the Cape of Good Hope, to co-operate with that of Greenwich. It is, of course, not possible to see Greenwich Observatory from the Cape, or vice versa, but the stars, being at an almost infinite distance, lie in the same direction from both observatories. What is required then is to measure the apparent distance of the Moon from the same stars as seen from Greenwich and as seen from the Cape, and, the distance apart of the two observatories being known, the distance of the Moon can be calculated.
This was a comparatively easy problem. The next step in celestial measurement was far harder; it was to find the distance of the Sun. The Sun is 400 times as far off as the Moon, and therefore it seems to be practically in the same direction as seen from each ofthe two observatories, and, being so bright, stars cannot be seen near it in the telescope. But by carefully watching the apparent movements of the planets theirrelativedistances from the Sun can be ascertained, and were known long before it was thought possible that we should ever know their real distances. Thus Venus never appears to travel more than 47° 15' from the Sun. This means that her distance from the Sun is a little more than seven-tenths of that of the Earth. If, therefore, the distance of one planet from the Sun can be measured, or the distance of one planet from the Earth, the actual distances of all the planets will follow. We know the proportions of the parts of the solar system, and, if we can fix the scale of one of the parts, we fix the scale of all.
It has been found possible to determine the distance of Mars, of several of the "minor planets," and especially of Eros, a very small minor planet that sometimes comes within 13,000,000 miles of the Earth, or seven times nearer to us than is the Sun.
From the measures of Eros, we have learned that the Sun is separated from us by very nearly 93,000,000 miles—an unimaginable distance. Perhaps the nearest way of getting some conception of this vast interval is by remembering that there are only 31,556,926 seconds of time in a year. If, therefore, an express train, travelling 60 miles an hour—a mile a minute—set out for the Sun, and travelled day and night without cease, it would take more than 180 years to accomplish the journey.
But this astronomical measure has led on to one more daring still. The earth is on one side of the Sun in January, on the other in July. At these two dates, therefore, we are occupying stations 186,000,000 milesapart, and can ascertain the apparent difference in direction of the stars as viewed from the two points But the astonishing result is that this enormous change in the position of the Earth makes not the slightest observable difference in the position of most of the stars. A few, a very few, do show a very slight difference. The nearest star to us is about 280,000 times as far from us as the Sun; this is Alpha Centauri, the brightest star in the constellation of the Centaur and the third brightest star in the sky. Sirius, the brightest star, is twice this distance. Some forty or fifty stars have had their distances roughly determined; but the stars in general far transcend all our attempts to plumb their distances. But, from certain indirect hints, it is generally supposed that the mass of stars in the Milky Way are something like 300,000,000 times as far from us as we are from our Sun.
Thus far, then, astronomy has led us in the direction or measurement. It has enabled us to measure the size of the Earth upon which we live, and to find out the position of a ship in the midst of the trackless ocean. It has also enabled us to cast a sounding-line into space, to show how remote and solitary the earth moves through the void, and to what unimaginable lengths the great stellar universe, of which it forms a secluded atom, stretches out towards infinity.
Astronomical measurement has not only given us the distances of the various planets from the Sun; it has also furnished us, as in the annexed table, with their real diameters, and, as a consequence of the law of gravitation, with their densities and weights, and the force of gravity at their surfaces. And these numerical details are of the first importance in directing us as to the inferences that we ought to draw as to their present physical conditions.
The theory of Copernicus deprived the Earth of its special position as the immovable centre of the universe, but raised it to the rank of a planet. It is therefore a heavenly body, yet needs no telescope to bring it within our ken; bad weather does not hide it from us, but rather shows it to us under new conditions. We find it to be a globe of land and water, covered by an atmosphere in which float changing clouds; we have mapped it, and we find that the land and water are always there, but their relations are not quite fixed; there is give and take between them. We have found of what elements the land and water consist, and how these elements combine with each other or dissociate. In a word, the Earth is the heavenly body that we know the best, and with it we must compare and contrast all the others.
Before the invention of the telescope there were buttwo other heavenly bodies—the Sun and the Moon—that appeared as orbs showing visible discs, and even in their cases nothing could be satisfactorily made out as to their conditions. Now each of the five planets known to the ancients reveals to us in the telescope a measurable disc, and we can detect significant details on their surfaces.
THE MOON is the one object in the heavens which does not disappoint a novice when he first sees it in the telescope. Every detail is hard, clear-cut, and sharp; it is manifest that we are looking at a globe, a very rough globe, with hills and mountains, plains and valleys, the whole in such distinct relief that it seems as if it might be touched. No clouds ever conceal its details, no mist ever softens its outlines; there are no half-lights, its shadows are dead black, its high lights are molten silver. Certain changes of illumination go on with the advancing age of the Moon, as the crescent broadens out to the half, the half to the full, and the full, in its turn, wanes away; but the lunar day is nearly thirty times as long as that of the Earth, and these changes proceed but slowly.
The full Moon, as seen by the naked eye, shows several vague dark spots, which most people agree to fancy as like the eyes, nose, and mouth of a broad, sorrowful face. The ordinary astronomical telescope inverts the image, so the "eyes" of the Moon are seen in the lower part of the field of the telescope as a series of dusky plains stretching right across the disc. But in the upper part, near the left-hand corner of the underlip, there is a bright, round spot, from which a number of bright streaks radiate—suggesting a peeled orange with its stalk, and the lines marking the sections radiating from it. This bright spot has been called after the great
Mean distance from Sun. Period VelocityClass. Name. Earth's In millions of revolution. in orbit. Eccentricity.distance of miles. In years. Miles per= 1. sec.Terrestrial Mercury 0.387 36.0 0.24 29.7 0.2056Planets Venus 0.723 67.2 0.62 21.9 0.0068Earth 1.000 92.9 1.00 18.5 0.0168Mars 1.524 141.5 1.88 15.0 0.0933Minor Eros 1.458 135.5 1.76 15.5 0.2228Planets Ceres 2.767 257.1 4.60 11.1 0.0763Achilles 5.253 488.0 12.04 8.1 0.0509Major Jupiter 5.203 483.3 11.86 8.1 0.0483Planets Saturn 9.539 886.6 29.46 6.0 0.0561Uranus 19.183 1781.9 84.02 4.2 0.0463Neptune 30.055 2791.6 164.78 3.4 0.0090
Mean diameter. Surface. Volume. Mass.Name. Symbol. In miles. [Earth]=1. [Earth]=1. [Earth]=1. [Earth]=1.Sun [Sun] 866400 109.422 11973. 1310130. 332000.Moon [Moon] 2163 0.273 0.075 0.02 0.012Mercury [Mercury] 3030 0.383 0.147 0.06 0.048Venus [Venus] 7700 0.972 0.945 0.92 0.820Earth [Earth] 7918 1.000 1.000 1.00 1.000Mars [Mars] 4230 0.534 0.285 0.15 0.107Jupiter [Jupiter] 86500 10.924 119.3 1304. 317.7Saturn [Saturn] 73000 9.219 85.0 783. 94.8Uranus [Uranus] 31900 4.029 16.2 65. 14.6Neptune [Neptune] 34800 4.395 19.3 85. 17.0
LightGravity. and heat Albedo;Density. Fall in receivedi.e.re-[Earth] Water [Earth] feet per from Sun. Time of rotation flectingName. =1. =1. =1. sec. [Earth]=1. on axis. power.d. h. m.Sun 0.25 1.39 27.65 444.60 ... 25 4 48 ± ...Moon 0.61 3.39 0.17 2.73 1.00 27 7 43 0.17d. h. m. s.Mercury 0.85 4.72 0.43 6.91 6.67 88 (?) 0.14Venus 0.89 4.94 0.82 13.19 1.91 23 21 23 (?) 0.76Earth 1.00 5.55 1.00 16.08 1.00 23 56 4 0.50 (?)Mars 0.71 3.92 0.38 6.11 0.43 24 37 23 0.22h. m.Jupiter 0.24 1.32 2.65 42.61 0.037 9 55 ± 0.62Saturn 0.13 0.72 1.18 18.97 0.011 10 14 ± 0.72Uranus 0.22 1.22 0.90 14.47 0.003 9 30 (?) 0.60Neptune 0.20 1.11 0.89 14.31 0.001 (?) 0.52
Danish astronomer, "Tycho," and is one of the most conspicuous objects of the full Moon.
The contrasts of the Moon are much more pronounced when she is only partly lit up. Then the mountains and valleys stand out in the strongest relief, and it becomes clear that the general type of formation on the Moon is that of rings—rings of every conceivable size, from the smallest point that the telescope can detect up to some of the great dusky plains themselves, hundreds of miles in diameter. These rings are so numerous that Galileo described the Moon as looking as full of "eyes" as a peacock's tail.
The "right eye" of the moonface, as we see it in the sky, is formed by a vast dusky plain, nearly as large as France and Germany put together, to which has been given the name of the "Sea of Rains" (Mare Imbrium), and just below this (as seen in the telescope) is one of the most perfect and beautiful of all the lunar rings—a great ring-plain, 56 miles in diameter, called after the thinker who revolutionised men's ideas of the solar system, "Copernicus." "Copernicus," like "Tycho," is the centre of a set of bright streaks; and a neighbouring but smaller ring, bearing the great name of "Kepler," stands in a like relation to another set.
The most elevated region of the Moon is immediately in the neighbourhood of the great "stalk of the orange," "Tycho." Here the rings are crowded together as closely as they can be packed; more closely in many places, for they intrude upon and overlap each other in the most intricate manner. A long chain of fine rings stretches from this disturbed region nearly to the centre of the disc, where the great Alexandrian astronomer is commemorated by a vast walled plain,considerably larger than the whole of Wales, and known as "Ptolemæus."
The distinctness of the lunar features shows at once that the Moon is in an altogether different condition from that of the Earth. Here the sky is continually being hidden by cloud, and hence the details of the surface of the Earth as viewed from any other planet must often be invisible, and even when actual cloud is absent there is a more permanent veil of dust, which must greatly soften and confuse terrestrial outlines. The clearness, therefore, with which we perceive the lunar formations proves that there is little or no atmosphere there. Nor is there any sign upon it of water, either as seas or lakes or running streams.
Yet the Moon shows clearly that in the past it has gone through great and violent changes. The gradation is so complete from the little craterlets, which resemble closely, in form and size, volcanic craters on the Earth, up to the great ring-plains, like "Copernicus" or "Tycho," or formations larger still, that it seems natural to infer not only that the smaller craters were formed by volcanic eruption, like the similar objects with which we are acquainted on our own Earth, but that the others, despite their greater sizes, had a like origin. In consequence of the feebler force of gravity on the Moon, the same explosive force there would carry the material of an eruption much further than on the Earth.
The darker, low-lying districts of the Moon give token of changes of a different order. It is manifest that the material of which the floors of these plains is composed has invaded, broken down, and almost submerged many of the ring-formations. Sometimes halfof a ring has been washed away; sometimes just the outline of a ring can still be traced upon the floor of the sea; sometimes only a slight breach has been made in the wall. So it is clear that the Moon was once richer in the great crater-like formations than it is to-day, but a lava-flood has overflowed at least one-third of its area. More recent still are the bright streaks, or rays, which radiate in all directions from "Tycho," and from some of the other ring-plains.
It is evident from these different types of structure on the Moon, and from the relations which they bear to each other, that the lunar surface has passed through several successive stages, and that its changes tended, on the whole, to diminish in violence as time went on; the minute crater pits with which the surface is stippled having been probably the last to form.
But the 300 years during which the Moon has been watched with the telescope have afforded no trace of any continuance of these changes. She has had a stormy and fiery past; but nothing like the events of those bygone ages disturbs her serenity to-day.
And yet we must believe that change does take place on the Moon even now, because during the 354 hours of its long day the Sun beats down with full force on the unprotected surface, and during the equally long night that surface is exposed to the cold of outer space. Every part of the surface must be exposed in turn to an extreme range of temperature, and must be cracked, torn, and riven by alternate expansion and contraction. Apart from this slow, wearing process, and a very few rather doubtful cases in which a minute alteration of some surface detail has been suspected, our sister planet, the Moon, shows herself as changeless and inert, without any appreciable trace of air or water or any signof life—a dead world, with all its changes and activities in the past.
MARS, after the Moon, is the planet whose surface we can study to best advantage. Its orbit lies outside that of the Earth, so that when it is nearest to us it turns the same side to both the Sun and Earth, and we see it fully illuminated. Mercury and Venus, on the contrary, when nearest us are between us and the Sun, and turn their dark sides to us. When fully illuminated they are at their greatest distance, and appear very small, and, being near the Sun, are observed with difficulty. These three are intermediate in size between the Moon and the Earth.
In early telescopic days it was seen that Mars was an orange-coloured globe with certain dusky markings upon it, and that these markings slowly changed their place—that, in short, it was a world rotating upon its axis, and in a period not very different from that of the Earth. The rotation period of Mars has indeed been fixed to the one-hundredth part of a second of time; it is 24 h. 37 m. 22.67 s. And this has been possible because some of the dusky spots observed in the seventeenth century can be identified now in the twentieth. Some of the markings on Mars, like our own continents and seas, and like the craters on the Moon, are permanent features; and many charts of the planet have been constructed.
Other markings are variable. Since the planet rotates on its axis, the positions of its poles and equator are known, its equator being inclined to its orbit at an angle of 24° 50', while the angle in the case of the Earth is 23° 27'. The times when its seasons begin and end are therefore known; and it is found that the spring of its northern hemisphere lasts 199 of ourdays, the summer 183, the autumn 147, and the winter 158. Round the pole in winter a broad white cap forms, which begins to shrink as spring comes on, and may entirely disappear in summer. No corresponding changes have been observed on the Moon, but it is easy to find an analogy to them on the Earth. Round both our poles a great cap of ice and snow is spread—a cap which increases in size as winter comes on, and diminishes with the advance of summer—and it seems a reasonable inference to suppose that the white polar caps of Mars are, like our own, composed of ice and snow.
From time to time indications have been observed of the presence on Mars of a certain amount of cloud. Familiar dark markings have, for a short time, been interrupted, or been entirely hidden, by white bands, and have recovered their ordinary appearance later. With rotation on its axis and succession of seasons, with atmosphere and cloud, with land and water, with ice and snow, Mars would seem to be a world very similar to our own.
This was the general opinion up to the year 1877, when SCHIAPARELLI announced that he had discovered a number of very narrow, straight, dark lines on the planet—lines to which he gave the name of "canali"—that is, "channels." This word was unfortunately rendered into English by the word "canals," and, as a canal means a waterway artificially made, this mistranslation gave the idea that Mars was inhabited by intelligent beings, who had dug out the surface of the planet into a network of canals of stupendous length and breadth.
The chief advocate of this theory is LOWELL, an American observer, who has given very great attentionto the study of the planet during the last seventeen years. His argument is that the straight lines, the canals, which he sees on the planet, and the round dots, the "oases," which he finds at their intersections, form a system so obviouslyunnatural, that it must be the work of design—of intelligent beings. The canals are to him absolutely regular and straight, like lines drawn with ruler and pen-and-ink, and the oases are exactly round. But, on the one hand, the best observers, armed with the most powerful telescopes, have often been able to perceive that markings were really full of irregular detail, which Lowell has represented as mere hard straight lines and circular dots, and, on the other hand, the straight line and the round dot are the two geometric forms which all very minute objects must approach in appearance. That we cannot see irregularities in very small and distant objects is no proof at all that irregularities do not exist in them, and it has often happened that a marking which appeared a typical "canal" when Mars was at a great distance lost that appearance when the planet was nearer.
Astronomers, therefore, are almost unanimous that there is no reason for supposing that any of the details that we see on the surface of Mars are artificial in their origin. And indeed the numerical facts that we know about the planet render it almost impossible that there should be any life upon it.
If we turn to the table, we see that in size, volume, density, and force of gravity at its surface, Mars lies between the Moon and the Earth, but is nearer the Moon. This has an important bearing as to the question of the planet's atmosphere. On the Earth we pass through half the atmosphere by ascending a mountainthat is three and a third miles in height; on Mars we should have to ascend nearly nine miles. If the atmospheric pressure at the surface of Mars were as great as it is at the surface of the Earth, his atmosphere would be far deeper than ours and would veil the planet more effectively. But we see the surface of Mars with remarkable distinctness, almost as clearly, when its greater distance is allowed for, as we see the Moon. It is therefore accepted that the atmospheric pressure at the surface of Mars must be very slight, probably much less than at the top of our very highest mountains, where there is eternal snow, and life is completely absent.
But Mars compares badly with the Earth in another respect. It receives less light and heat from the Sun in the proportion of three to seven. This we may express by saying that Mars, on the whole, is almost as much worse off than the Earth as a point on the Arctic Circle is worse off than a point on the Equator. The mean temperature of the Earth is taken as about 60° of the Fahrenheit thermometer (say, 15° Cent.); the mean temperature of Mars must certainly be considerably below freezing-point, probably near 0° F. Here on our Earth the boiling-point of water is 212°, and, since the mean temperature is 60° and water freezes at 32°, it is normally in the liquid state. On Mars it must normally be in the solid state—ice, snow, or frost, or the like. But with so rare an atmosphere water will boil at a low temperature, and it is not impossible that under the direct rays of the Sun—that is to say, at midday of the torrid zone of Mars—ice may not only melt, but water boil by day, condensing and freezing again during the night. NEWCOMB, the foremost astronomer of his day, concluded "that duringthe night of Mars, even in the equatorial regions, the surface of the planet probably falls to a lower temperature than any we ever experienced on our globe. If any water exists, it must not only be frozen, but the temperature of the ice must be far below the freezing point.... The most careful calculation shows that if there are any considerable bodies of water on our neighbouring planet, they exist in the form of ice, and can never be liquid to a depth of more than one or two inches, and that only within the torrid zone and during a few hours each day." With regard to the snow caps of Mars, Newcomb thought it not possible that any considerable fall of snow could ever take place. He regarded the white caps as simply due to a thin deposit of hoar frost, and it cannot be deemed wonderful that such should gradually disappear, when it is remembered that each of the two poles of Mars is in turn presented to the Sun for more than 300 consecutive days. Newcomb's conclusion was: "Thus we have a kind of Martian meteorological changes, very slight indeed, and seemingly very different from those of our Earth, but yet following similar lines on their small scale. For snowfall substitute frostfall; instead of (the barometer reading) feet or inches say fractions of a millimetre, and instead of storms or wind substitute little motions of an air thinner than that on the top of the Himalayas, and we shall have a general description of Martian meteorology."
We conclude, then, that Mars is not so inert a world as the Moon, but, though some slight changes of climate or weather take place upon it, it is quite unfitted for the nourishment and development of the different forms of organic life.
Of MERCURY we know very little. It is smaller than Mars but larger than the Moon, but it differs from themboth in that it is much nearer the Sun, and receives, therefore, many times the light and heat, surface for surface. We should expect, therefore, that water on Mercury would exist in the gaseous state instead of in the solid state as on Mars. The little planet reflects the sunlight only feebly, and shows no evidence of cloud. A few markings have been made out on its surface, and the best observers agree that it appears to turn the same face always to the Sun. This would imply that the one hemisphere is in perpetual darkness and cold, the other, exposed to an unimaginable fiery heat.
VENUS is nearly of the same size as the Earth, and the conditions as to the arrangement of its atmosphere, the force of gravity at its surface, must be nearly the same as on our own world. But we know almost nothing of the details of its surface; the planet is very bright, reflecting fully seven-tenths of the sunlight that falls upon it. It would seem that, in general, we see nothing of the actual details of the planet, but only the upper surface of a very cloudy atmosphere. Owing to the fact that Venus shows no fixed definite marking that we can watch, it is still a matter of controversy as to the time in which it rotates upon its axis. Schiaparelli and some other observers consider that it rotates in the same time as it revolves round the Sun. Others believe that it rotates in a little less than twenty-four hours. If this be so, and there is any body in the solar system other than the Earth, which is adapted to be the home of life, then the planet Venus is that one.
THE SUN, like the Moon, presents a visible surface to the naked eye, but one that shows no details. In the telescope the contrast between it and the Moon is very great, and still greater is the contrast which is broughtout by the measurements of its size, volume, and weight. But the really significant difference is that the Sun is a body giving out light and heat, not merely reflecting them. Without doubt this last difference is connected most closely with the difference in size. The Moon is cold, dead, unchanging, because it is a small world; the Sun is bright, fervent, and undergoes the most violent change, because it is an exceedingly large world.
The two bodies—the Sun and Moon—appear to the eye as being about the same size, but since the Sun is 400 times as far off as the Moon it must be 400 times the diameter. That means that it has 400 times 400, or 160,000 times the surface and 400 times 400 times 400, or 64,000,000 times the volume. The Sun and Moon, therefore, stand at the very extremes of the scale.
The heat of the Sun is so great that there is some difficulty in observing it in the telescope. It is not sufficient to use a dark glass in order to protect the eye, unless the telescope be quite a small one. Some means have to be employed to get rid of the greater part of the heat and light. The simplest method of observing is to fix a screen behind the eyepiece of a telescope and let the image of the Sun be projected upon the screen, or the sensitive plate may be substituted for the screen, and a photograph obtained, which can be examined at leisure afterwards.
As generally seen, the surface of the Sun appears to be mottled all over by a fine irregular stippling. This stippling, though everywhere present, is not very strongly marked, and a first hasty glance might overlook it. From time to time, however, dark spots are seen, of ever-changing form and size. By watching these, Galileo proved that the Sun rotated on its axis in a little more than twenty-five days, and in thenineteenth century SCHWABE proved that the sunspots were not equally large and numerous at all times, but that there was a kind of cycle of a little more than eleven years in average length. At one time the Sun would be free from spots; then a few small ones would appear; these would gradually become larger and more numerous; then a decline would follow, and another spotless period would succeed about eleven years after the first. As a rule, the increase in the spots takes place more quickly than the decline.
Most of the spot-groups last only a very few days, but about one group in four lasts long enough to be brought round by the rotation of the Sun a second time; in other words, it continues for about a month. In a very few cases spots have endured for half a year.
An ordinary form for a group of spots is a long stream drawn out parallel to the Sun's equator, the leading spot being the largest and best defined. It is followed by a number of very small irregular and ill-developed spots, and the train is brought up by a large spot, sometimes even larger than the leader, but by no means so regular in form or so well defined. The leading spot for a short time moves forward much faster than its followers, at a speed of about 8000 miles per day. The small middle spots then gradually die out, or rather seem to be overflowed by the bright material of the solar surface, the "photosphere," as it is called; the spot in the rear breaks up a little later, and the leader, which is now almost circular, is left alone, and may last in this condition for some weeks. Finally, it slowly contracts or breaks up, and the disturbance comes to an end. This is the course of development of many long-lived spot-groups, but all do not conform to the same type.The very largest spots are indeed usually quite different in their appearance and history.
In size, sunspots vary from the smallest dot that can be discovered in the telescope up to huge rents with areas that are to be counted by thousands of millions of square miles; the great group of February 1905 had an area of 4,000,000,000 square miles, a thousand times the area of Europe.
Closely associated with themaculæ, as the spots were called by the first observers, are the "faculæ"—long, branching lines of bright white light, bright as seen even against the dazzling background of the Sun itself, and looking like the long lines of foam of an incoming tide. These are often associated with the spots; the spots are formed between their ridges, and after a spot-group has disappeared the broken waves of faculæ will sometimes persist in the same region for quite a long time.
The faculæ clearly rise above the ordinary solar surface; the spots as clearly are depressed a little below it; because from time to time we see the bright material of the surface pour over spots, across them, and sometimes into them. But there is no reason to believe that the spots are deep, in proportion either to the Sun itself or even to their own extent.
Sunspots are not seen in all regions of the Sun. It is very seldom that they are noted in a higher solar latitude than 40°, the great majority of spots lying in the two zones between 5° and 25° latitude on either side of the equator. Faculæ, on the other hand, though most frequent in the spot zones, are observed much nearer the two poles.
It is very hard to find analogies on our Earth for sunspots and for their peculiarities of behaviour. Someof the earlier astronomers thought they were like terrestrial volcanoes, or rather like the eruptions from them. But if there were a solid nucleus to the Sun, and the spots were eruptions from definite areas of the nucleus, they would all give the same period of rotation. But sunspots move about freely on the solar surface, and the different zones of that surface rotate in different times, the region of the equator rotating the most quickly. This alone is enough to show that the Sun is essentially not a solid body. Yet far down below the photosphere something approaching to a definite structure must already be forming. For there is a well-marked progression in the zones of sunspots during the eleven-year cycle. At a time when spots are few and small, known asthe sunspot minimum, they begin to be seen in fairly high latitudes. As they get more numerous, and many of them larger, they frequent the medium zones. When the Sun is at its greatest activity, known asthe sunspot maximum, they are found from the highest zone right down to the equator. Then the decline sets in, but it sets in first in the highest zones, and when the time of minimum has come again the spots are close to the equator. Before these have all died away, a few small spots, the heralds of a new cycle of activity, begin to appear in high latitudes.
This law, called after SPÖRER, its discoverer, indicates that the origin and source of sunspot activity lie within the Sun. At one time it was thought that sunspots were due to some action of Jupiter—for Jupiter moves round the Sun in 11.8 years, a period not very different from the sunspot cycle—or to some meteoric stream. But Spörer's Law could not be imposed by some influence from without. Still sunspots, once formed, may be influenced by the Earth, and perhaps by otherplanets also, for MRS. WALTER MAUNDER has shown that the numbers and areas of spots tend to be smaller on the western half of the disc, as seen from the Earth, than on the eastern, while considerably more groups come into view at the east edge of the Sun than pass out of view at the west edge, so that it would appear as if the Earth had a damping effect upon the spots exposed to it.
But the Sun is far greater than it ordinarily appears to us. Twice every year, and sometimes oftener, the Moon, when new, comes between the Earth and the Sun, and we have anEclipse of the Sun, the dark body of the Moon hiding part, or all, of the greater light. The Sun and Moon are so nearly of the same apparent size that an eclipse of the Sun is total only for a very narrow belt of the Earth's surface, and, as the Moon moves more quickly than the Sun, the eclipse only remains total for a very short time—seven minutes at the outside, more usually only two or three. North or south of that belt the Moon is projected, so as to leave uncovered a part of the Sun north or south of the Moon. A total eclipse, therefore, is rare at any particular place, and if a man were able to put himself in the best possible position on each occasion, it would cost him thirty years to secure an hour's accumulated duration.
Eclipses of the Moon are visible over half the world at one time, for there is a real loss to the Moon of her light. Her eclipses are brought about when, in her orbit, she passes behind the Earth, and the Earth, being between the Sun and the Moon, cuts off from the latter most of the light falling upon her; not quite all; a small portion reaches her after passing through the thickest part of the Earth's atmosphere, so that theMoon in an eclipse looks a deep copper colour, much as she does when rising on a foggy evening.
Total eclipses of the Sun have well repaid all the efforts made to observe them. It is a wonderful sight to watch the blackness of darkness slowly creeping over the very fountain of light until it is wholly and entirely hidden; to watch the colours fade away from the landscape and a deathlike, leaden hue pervade all nature, and then to see a silvery, star-like halo, flecked with bright little rose-coloured flames, flash out round the black disc that has taken the place of the Sun.
These rose-coloured flames are the solar "prominences," and the halo is the "corona," and it is to watch these that astronomers have made so many expeditions hither and thither during the last seventy years. The "prominences," or red flames, can be observed, without an eclipse, by means of the spectroscope, but, as the work of the spectroscope is to form the subject of another volume of this series, it is sufficient to add here that the prominences are composed of various glowing gases, chiefly of hydrogen, calcium, and helium.
These and other gases form a shell round the Sun, about 3000 miles in depth, to which the name "chromosphere" has been given. It is out of the chromosphere that the prominences arise as vast irregular jets and clouds. Ordinarily they do not exceed 40 or 50 thousand miles in height, but occasionally they extend for 200 or even 300 thousand miles from the Sun. Their changes are as remarkable as their dimensions; huge jets of 50 or 100 thousand miles have been seen to form, rise, and disappear within an hour or less, and movements have been chronicled of 200 or 300 miles in a single second of time.
Prominences are largest and most frequent whensunspots and faculæ are most frequent, and fewest when those are fewest. The corona, too, varies with the sunspots. At the time of maximum the corona sends forth rays and streamers in all directions, and looks like the conventional figure of a star on a gigantic scale. At minimum the corona is simpler in form, and shows two great wings, east and west, in the direction of the Sun's equator, and round both of his poles a number of small, beautiful jets like a crest of feathers.
Some of the streamers or wings of the corona have been traced to an enormous distance from the Sun. Mrs. Walter Maunder photographed one ray of the corona of 1898 to a distance of 6 millions of miles. LANGLEY, in the clear air of Pike's Peak, traced the wings of the corona of 1878 with the naked eye to nearly double this distance.
But the rapid changes of sunspots and the violence of some of the prominence eruptions are but feeble indications of the most wonderful fact concerning the Sun,i.e.the enormous amount of light and heat which it is continually giving off. Here we can only put together figures which by their vastness escape our understanding. Sunlight is to moonlight as 600,000 is to 1, so that if the entire sky were filled up with full moons, they would not give us a quarter as much light as we derive from the Sun. The intensity of sunlight exceeds by far any artificial light; it is 150 times as bright as the calcium light, and three or four times as bright as the brightest part of the electric arc light. The amount of heat radiated by the Sun has been expressed in a variety of different ways; C. A. YOUNG very graphically by saying that if the Sun were encased in a shell of ice 64 feet deep, its heat would melt the shell in one minute, and that if a bridge of ice could beformed from the Earth to the Sun, 2-½ miles square in section and 93 millions of miles long, and the entire solar radiation concentrated upon it, in one second the ice would be melted, in seven more dissipated into vapour.
The Earth derives from the Sun not merely light and heat, but, by transformation of these, almost every form of energy manifest upon it; the energy of the growth of plants, the vital energy of animals, are only the energy received from the Sun, changed in its expression.
The question naturally arises, "If the Sun, to which the Earth is indebted for nearly everything, passes through a change in its activity every eleven years or so, how is the Earth affected by it?" It would seem at first sight that the effect should be great and manifest. A sunspot, like that of February 1905, one thousand times as large as Europe, into which worlds as large as our Earth might be poured, like peas into a saucer, must mean, one might think, an immense falling off of the solar heat.
Yet it is not so. For even this great sunspot was but small as compared with the Sun as a whole. Had it been dead black, it would have stopped out much less than 1 per cent. of the Sun's heat; and even the darkest sunspot is really very bright. And the more spots there are, the more numerous and brighter are the faculæ; so that we do not know certainly which of the two phases, maximum or minimum, means the greater radiation. If the weather on the Earth answers to the sunspot cycle, the connection is not a simple one; as yet no connection has been proved. Thus two of the worst and coldest summers experienced in England fell the one in 1860, the other in 1879,i.e.atmaximum and minimum respectively. So, too, the hot summers of 1893 and 1911 were also, the one at maximum and the other at minimum; and ordinary average years have fallen at both the phases just the same.
Yet there is an answer on the part of the Earth to these solar changes. The Earth itself is a kind of magnet, possessing a magnetism of which the intensity and direction is always changing. To watch these changes, very sensitive magnets are set up, and a slight daily to-and-fro swing is noticed in them; this swing is more marked in summer than in winter, but it is also more marked at times of the sunspot maximum than at minimum, showing a dependence upon the solar activity.
Yet more, from time to time the magnetic needle undergoes more or less violent disturbance; in extreme cases the electric telegraph communication has been disturbed all over the world, as on September 25, 1909, when the submarine cables ceased to carry messages for several hours. In most cases when such a "magnetic storm" occurs, there is an unusually large or active spot on the Sun. The writer was able in 1904 to further prove that such "storms" have a marked tendency to recur when the same longitude of the Sun is presented again towards the Earth. Thus in February 1892, when a very large spot was on the Sun, a violent magnetic storm broke out. The spot passed out of sight and the storm ceased, but in the following month, when the spot reached exactly the same apparent place on the Sun's disc, the storm broke out again. Such magnetic disturbances are therefore due to streams of particles driven off from limited areas of the Sun, probably in the same way that the long,straight rays of the corona are driven off. Such streams of particles, shot out into space, do not spread out equally in all directions, like the rays of light and heat, but are limited in direction, and from time to time they overtake the Earth in its orbit, and, striking it, cause a magnetic storm, which is felt all over the Earth at practically the same moment.
JUPITER is, after the Sun, much the largest member of the solar system, and it is a peculiarly beautiful object in the telescope. Even a small instrument shows the little disc striped with many delicately coloured bands or belts, broken by white clouds and dark streaks, like a "windy sky" at sunset. And it changes while being watched, for, though 400,000,000 miles away from us, it rotates so fast upon its axis that its central markings can actually be seen to move.
This rapid rotation, in less than ten hours, is the most significant fact about Jupiter. For different spots have different rotation periods, even in the same latitude, proving that we are looking down not upon any solid surface of Jupiter, but upon its cloud envelope—an envelope swept by its rapid rotation and by its winds into a vast system of parallel currents.
One object on Jupiter, the great "Red Spot," has been under observation since 1878, and possibly for 200 years before that. It is a large, oval object fitted in a frame of the same shape. The spot itself has often faded and been lost since 1878, but the frame has remained. The spot is in size and position relative to Jupiter much as Australia is to the Earth, but while Australia moves solidly with the rest of the Earth in the daily rotation, neither gaining on South America nor losing on Africa, the Red Spot on Jupiter sees many other spots and clouds pass it by, and does not evenretain the same rate of motion itself from one year to another.
No other marking on Jupiter is so permanent as this. From time to time great round white clouds form in a long series as if shot up from some eruption below, and then drawn into the equatorial current. From time to time the belts themselves change in breadth, in colour, and complexity. Jupiter is emphatically the planet of change.
And such change means energy, especially energy in the form of heat. If Jupiter possessed no heat but that it derived from the Sun, it would be colder than Mars, and therefore an absolutely frozen globe. But these rushing winds and hurrying clouds are evidences of heat and activity—a native heat much above that of our Earth. While Mars is probably nearer to the Moon than to the Earth in its condition, Jupiter has probably more analogies with the Sun.
The one unrivalled distinction of SATURN is its Ring. Nothing like this exists elsewhere in the solar system. Everywhere else we see spherical globes; this is a flat disc, but without its central portion. It surrounds the planet, lying in the plane of its equator, but touches it nowhere, a gap of 7000 miles intervening. It appears to be circular, and is 42,000 miles in breadth.
Yet it is not, as it appears to be, a flat continuous surface. It is in reality made up of an infinite number of tiny satellites, mere dust or pebbles for the most part, but so numerous as to look from our distance like a continuous ring, or rather like three or four concentric rings, for certain divisions have been noticed in it—an inner broad division called after its discoverer, CASSINI, and an outer, fainter, narrower one discovered by ENCKE. The innermost part of the ring is dusky, fainterthan the planet or the rest of the ring, and is known as the "crape-ring."
Of Saturn itself we know little; it is further off and fainter than Jupiter, and its details are not so pronounced, but in general they resemble those of Jupiter. The planet rotates quickly—in 10 h. 14 m.—its markings run into parallel belts, and are diversified by spots of the same character as on Jupiter. Saturn is probably possessed of no small amount of native heat.
URANUS and NEPTUNE are much smaller bodies than Jupiter and Saturn, though far larger than the Earth. But their distance from the Earth and Sun makes their discs small and faint, and they show little in the telescope beyond a hint of "belts" like those of Jupiter; so that, as with that planet, the surfaces that they show are almost certainly the upper surfaces of a shell of cloud.
In general, therefore, the rule appears to hold good throughout the solar system that a very large body is intensely hot and in a condition of violent activity and rapid change; that smaller bodies are less hot and less active, until we come down to the smallest, which are cold, inert, and dead. Our own Earth, midway in the series, is itself cold, but is placed at such a distance from the Sun as to receive from it a sufficient but not excessive supply of light and heat, and the changes of the Earth are such as not to prohibit but to nourish and support the growth and development of the various forms of life.
The smallest members of the solar system are known as METEORS. These are often no more than pebbles or particles of dust, moving together in associated orbits round the Sun. They are too small and too scattered to be seen in open space, and become visible to us onlywhen their orbits intersect that of the earth, and the earth actually encounters them. They then rush into our atmosphere at a great speed, and become highly heated and luminous as they compress the air before them; so highly heated that most are vapourised and dissipated, but a few reach the ground. As they are actually moving in parallel paths at the time of one of these encounters, they appear from the effect of perspective to diverge from a point, hence called the "radiant." Some showers occur on the same date of every year; thus a radiant in the constellation Lyra is active about April 21, giving us meteors, known as the "Lyrids"; and another in Perseus in August, gives us the "Perseids." Other radiants are active at intervals of several years; the most famous of all meteoric showers, that of the "Leonids," from a radiant in Leo, was active for many centuries every thirty-third year; and another falling in the same month, November, came from a radiant in Andromeda every thirteen years. In these four cases and in some others the meteors have been found to be travelling along the same path as a comet. It is therefore considered that meteoric swarms are due to the gradual break up of comets; indeed the comet of the Andromeda shower, known from one of its observers as "Biela's," was actually seen to divide into two in December 1845, and has not been observed as a comet since 1852, though the showers connected with it, giving us the meteors known as the "Andromedes," have continued to be frequent and rich. Meteors, therefore, are the smallest, most insignificant, of all the celestial bodies; and the shining out of a meteor is the last stage of its history—its death; after death it simply goes to add an infinitesimal trifle to the dust of the earth.
The first step towards our knowledge of the starry heavens was made when the unknown and forgotten astronomers of 2700 B.C. arranged the stars into constellations, for it was the first step towards distinguishing one star from another. When one star began to be known as "the star in the eye of the Bull," and another as "the star in the shoulder of the Giant," the heavens ceased to display an indiscriminate crowd of twinkling lights; each star began to possess individuality.
The next step was taken when Hipparchus made his catalogue of stars (129 B.C.), not only giving its name to each star, but measuring and fixing its place—a catalogue represented to us by that of Claudius Ptolemy (A.D. 137).
The third step was taken when BRADLEY, the third Astronomer Royal, made, at Greenwich, a catalogue of more than 3000 star-places determined with the telescope.
A century later ARGELANDER made the great Bonn Zone catalogue of 330,000 stars, and now a great photographic catalogue and chart of the entire heavens have been arranged between eighteen observatories of different countries. This great chart when complete will probably present 30 millions of stars in position and brightness.
The question naturally arises, "Why so many stars? What conceivable use can be served by catalogues of 30 millions or even of 3000 stars?" And so far as strictly practical purposes are concerned, the answer must be that there is none. Thus MASKELYNE, the fifth Astronomer Royal, restricted his observations to some thirty-six stars, which were all that he needed for hisNautical Almanac, and these, with perhaps a few additions, would be sufficient for all purely practical ends.
But there is in man a restless, resistless passion for knowledge—for knowledge for its own sake—that is always compelling him to answer the challenge of the unknown. The secret hid behind the hills, or across the seas, has drawn the explorer in all ages; and the secret hid behind the stars has been a magnet not less powerful. So catalogues of stars have been made, and made again, and enlarged and repeated; instruments of ever-increasing delicacy have been built in order to determine the positions of stars, and observations have been made with ever-increasing care and refinement. It is knowledge for its own sake that is longed for, knowledge that can only be won by infinite patience and care.
The chief instrument used in making a star catalogue is called a transit circle; two great stone pillars are set up, each carrying one end of an axis, and the axis carries a telescope. The telescope can turn round like a wheel, in one direction only; it points due north or due south. A circle carefully divided into degrees and fractions of a degree is attached to the telescope.
In the course of the twenty-four hours every star above the horizon of the observatory must come at least once within the range of this telescope, and at that moment the observer points the telescope to thestar, and notes the time by his clock when the star crossed the spider's threads, which are fitted in the focus of his eye-piece. He also notes the angle at which the telescope was inclined to the horizon by reading the divisions of his circle. For by these two—the time when the star passed before the telescope and the angle at which the telescope was inclined—he is able to fix the position of the star.
"But why should catalogues be repeated? When once the position of a star has been observed, why trouble to observe it again? Will not the record serve in perpetuity?"
The answers to these questions have been given by star catalogues themselves, or have come out in the process of making them. The Earth rotates on its axis and revolves round the Sun. But that axis also has a rolling motion of its own, and gives rise to an apparent motion of the stars calledPrecession. Hipparchus discovered this effect while at work on his catalogue, and our knowledge of the amount of Precession enables us to fix the date when the constellations were designed.
Similarly, Bradley discovered two further apparent motions of the stars—AberrationandNutation. Of these, the first arises from the fact that the light coming from the stars moves with an inconceivable speed, but does not cross from star to Earth instantly; it takes an appreciable, even a long, time to make the journey. But the Earth is travelling round the Sun, and therefore continually changing its direction of motion, and in consequence there is an apparent change in the direction in which the star is seen. The change is very small, for though the Earth moves 18-½ miles in a second, light travels 10,000 times as fast. Stars therefore are deflected from their true positions by Aberration, byan extreme amount of 20.47" of arc, that being the angle shown by an object that is slightly more distant than 10,000 times its diameter.
The axis of the Earth not only rolls on itself, but it does so with a slight staggering, nodding motion, due to the attractions of the Sun and Moon, known asNutation. And the axis does not remain fixed in the solid substance of the Earth, but moves about irregularly in an area of about 60 feet in diameter. The positions of the north and south poles are therefore not precisely fixed, but move, producing what is known as theVariation of Latitude. Then star-places have to be corrected for the effect of our own atmosphere,i.e.refraction, and for errors of the instruments by which their places are determined. And when all these have been allowed for, the result stands out that different stars have real movement of their own—theirProper Motions.
No stars are really "fixed"; the name "fixed stars" is a tradition of a time when observation was too rough to detect that any of the heavenly bodies other than the planets were in motion. But nothing is fixed. The Earth on which we stand has many different motions; the stars are all in headlong flight.
And from this motion of the stars it has been learned that the Sun too moves. When Copernicus overthrew the Ptolemaic theory and showed that the Earth moves round the Sun, it was natural that men should be satisfied to take this as the centre of all things, fixed and immutable. It is not so. Just as a traveller driving through a wood sees the trees in front apparently open out and drift rapidly past him on either hand, and then slowly close together behind him, so Sir WILLIAM HERSCHEL showed that the stars in onepart of the heavens appear to be opening out, or slowly moving apart, while in the opposite part there seems to be a slight tendency for them to come together, and in a belt midway between the two the tendency is for a somewhat quicker motion toward the second point. And the explanation is the same in the one case as in the other—the real movement is with the observer. The Sun with all its planets and smaller attendants is rushing onward, onward, towards a point near the borders of the constellations Lyra and Hercules, at the rate of about twelve miles per second.
Part of the Proper Motions of the stars are thus only apparent, being due to the actual motion of the Sun—the "Sun's Way," as it is called—but part of the Proper Motions belong to the stars themselves; they are really in motion, and this not in a haphazard, random manner. For recently KAPTEYN and other workers in the same field have brought to light the fact ofStar-Drift,i.e.that many of the stars are travelling in associated companies. This may be illustrated by the seven bright stars that make up the well-known group of the "Plough," or "Charles's Wain," as country people call it. For the two stars of the seven that are furthest apart in the sky are moving together in one direction, and the other five in another.
Another result of the close study of the heavens involved in the making of star catalogues has been the detection of DOUBLE STARS—stars that not only appear to be near together but are really so. Quite a distinct and important department of astronomy has arisen dealing with the continual observation and measurement of these objects. For many double stars are in motion round each other in obedience to the law of gravitation, and their orbits have been computed.Some of these systems contain three or even four members. But in every case the smaller body shines by its own light; we have no instance in these double stars of a sun attended by a planet; in each case it is a sun with a companion sun. The first double star to be observed as such was one of the seven stars of the Plough. It is the middle star in the Plough handle, and has a faint star near it that is visible to any ordinarily good sight.
Star catalogues and the work of preparing them have brought out another class—VARIABLE STARS. As the places of stars are not fixed, so neither are their brightnesses, and some change their brightness quickly, even as seen by the naked eye. One of these is calledAlgol,i.e.the Demon Star, and is in the constellation Perseus. The ancient Greeks divided all stars visible to the naked eye into six classes, or "magnitudes," according to their brightness, the brightest stars being said to be of the first magnitude, those not quite so bright of the second, and so on. Algol is then usually classed as a star of the second magnitude, and for two days and a half it retains its brightness unchanged. Then it begins to fade, and for four and a half hours its brightness declines, until two-thirds of it has gone. No further change takes place for about twenty minutes, after which the light begins to increase again, and in another four and a half hours it is as bright as ever, to go through the same changes again after another interval of two days and a half.
Algol is a double star, but, unlike those stars that we know under that name, the companion is dark, but is nearly as large as its sun, and is very close to it, moving round it in a little less than three days. At one point of its orbit it comes between Algol and the Earth,and Algol suffers, from our point of view, a partial eclipse.
There are many other cases of variable stars of this kind in which the variation is caused by a dark companion moving round the bright star, and eclipsing it once in each revolution; and the diameters and distances of some of these have been computed, showing that in some cases the two stars are almost in contact. In some instances the companion is a dull but not a dark star; it gives a certain amount of light. When this is the case there is a fall of light twice in the period—once when the fainter star partly eclipses the brighter, once when the brighter star partly eclipses the fainter.
But not all variable stars are of this kind. There is a star in the constellation Cetus which is sometimes of the second magnitude, at which brightness it may remain for about a fortnight. Then it will gradually diminish in brightness for nine or ten weeks, until it is lost to the unassisted sight, and after six months of invisibility it reappears and increases during another nine or ten weeks to another maximum. "Mira,"i.e.wonderful star, as this variable is called, is about 1000 times as bright at maximum as at minimum, but some maxima are fainter than others; neither is the period of variation always the same. It is clear that variation of this kind cannot be caused by an eclipse, and though many theories have been suggested, the "long-period variables," of which Mira is the type, as yet remain without a complete explanation.
More remarkable still are the "NEW STARS"—stars that suddenly burst out into view, and then quickly fade away, as if a beacon out in the stellar depths had suddenly been fired. One of these suggested to Hipparchus the need for a catalogue of thestars; another, the so-called "Pilgrim Star," in the year 1572 was the means of fixing the attention of Tycho Brahe upon astronomy; a third in 1604 was observed and fully described by Kepler. The real meaning of these "new," or "temporary," stars was not understood until the spectroscope was applied to astronomy. They will therefore be treated in the volume of this series to be devoted to that subject. It need only be mentioned here that their appearance is evidently due to some kind of collision between celestial bodies, producing an enormous and instantaneous development of light and heat.
These New Stars do not occur in all parts of the heavens. Even a hasty glance at the sky will show that the stars are not equally scattered, but that a broad belt apparently made up of an immense number of very small stars divides them into two parts.
THE MILKY WAY, or GALAXY, as this belt is called, bridges the heavens at midnight, early in October, like an enormous arch, resting one foot on the horizon in the east, and the other in the west, and passing through the "Zenith,"i.e.the point overhead. It is on this belt of small stars—on the Milky Way—that New Stars are most apt to break out.
The region of the Milky Way is richer in stars than are the heavens in general. But it varies itself also in richness in a remarkable degree. In some places the stars, as seen on some of the wonderful photographs taken by E. E. BARNARD, seem almost to form a continuous wall; in other places, close at hand, barren spots appear that look inky black by contrast. And theStar Clusters, stars evidently crowded together, are frequent in the Milky Way.
And yet again beside the stars the telescope revealsto us the NEBULÆ. Some of these are the Irregular Nebulæ—wide-stretching, cloudy, diffused masses of filmy light, like the Great Nebula in Orion. Others are faint but more defined objects, some of them with small circular discs, and looking like a very dim Uranus, or even like Saturn—that is to say, like a planet with a ring round its equator. This class are therefore known as "Planetary Nebulæ," and, when bright enough to show traces of colour, appear green or greenish blue.
These are, however, comparatively rare. Other of these faint, filmy objects are known as the "White Nebulæ," and are now counted by thousands. They affect the spiral form. Sometimes the spiral is seen fully presented; sometimes it is seen edgewise; sometimes more or less foreshortened, but in general the spiral character can be detected. And these White Nebulæ appear to shun the Galaxy as much as the Planetary Nebula; and Star Clusters prefer it; indeed the part of the northern heavens most remote from the Milky Way is simply crowded with them.
It can be by no accident or chance that in the vast edifice of the heavens objects of certain classes should crowd into the belt of the Milky Way, and other classes avoid it; it points to the whole forming a single growth, an essential unity. For there is but one belt in the heavens, like the Milky Way, a belt in which small stars, New Stars, and Planetary Nebulæ find their favourite home; and that belt encircles the entire heavens; and similarly that belt is the only region from which the White Nebulæ appear to be repelled. The Milky Way forms the foundation, the strong and buttressed wall of the celestial building; the White Nebulæ close in the roof of its dome.
And how vast may that structure be—how far is it from wall to wall?
That, as yet, we can only guess. But the stars whose distances we can measure, the stars whose drifting we can watch, almost infinitely distant as they are, carry us but a small part of the way. Still, from little hints gathered here and there, we are able to guess that, though the nearest star to us is nearly 300,000 times as far as the Sun, yet we must overpass the distance of that star 1000 times before we shall have reached the further confines of the Galaxy. Nor is the end in sight even there.
This is, in briefest outline, the Story of Astronomy. It has led us from a time when men were acquainted with only a few square miles of the Earth, and knew nothing of its size and shape, or of its relation to the moving lights which shone down from above, on to our present conception of our place in a universe of suns of which the vastness, glory, and complexity surpass our utmost powers of expression. The science began in the desire to use Sun, Moon, and stars as timekeepers, but as the exercise of ordered sight and ordered thought brought knowledge, knowledge began to be desired, not for any advantage it might bring, but for its own sake. And the pursuit itself has brought its own reward in that it has increased men's powers, and made them keener in observation, clearer in reasoning, surer in inference. The pursuit indeed knows no ending; the questions to be answered that lie before us are now more numerous than ever they have been, and the call of the heavens grows more insistent:
"LIFT UP YOUR EYES ON HIGH."