It is, however, in the construction of refracting telescopes that the most conspicuous advances have recently been made. The Harvard College 15-inch achromatic was mounted and ready for work in June, 1847. A similar instrument had already for some years been in its place at Pulkowa. It was long before the possibility of surpassing these masterpieces of German skill presented itself to any optician. For fifteen years it seemed as if a line had been drawn just there. It was first transgressed in America. A portrait-painter of Cambridgeport, Massachusetts, named Alvan Clark, had for some time amused his leisure with grinding lenses, the singular excellence of which was discovered in England by Mr. Dawes in 1853.[1632] Seven years passed, and then an order came from the University of Mississippi for an object-glass of the unexampled size of eighteen inches. An experimental glance through it to test its definition resulted, as we have seen, in the detection of the companion of Sirius, January 31, 1862. It never reached its destination in the South. War troubles supervened, and it was eventually sent to Chicago, where it served Professor Hough in his investigations of Jupiter, and Mr. Burnham in his scrutiny of double stars.
The next step was an even longer one, and it was again taken by a self-taught optician, Thomas Cooke, the son of a shoemaker at Allerthorpe, in the East Riding of Yorkshire. Mr. Newall of Gateshead ordered from him in 1863 a 25-inch object-glass. It was finished early in 1868, but at the cost of shortening the life of its maker, who died October 19, 1868, before the giant refractor he had toiled at for five years was completely mounted. This instrument, the fine qualities of which had long been neutralized by an unfavourable situation, was presented by Mr. Newall to the University of Cambridge, a few weeks before his death, April 21, 1889. Under the care of his son, Mr. Frank Newall, it has proved highly efficient in the delicate work of measuring stellar radial motions.
Close upon its construction followed that of the Washington 26-inch, for which twenty thousand dollars were paid to Alvan Clark. The most illustrious point in its career, entered upon in 1873, has been the discovery of the satellites of Mars. Once known to be there, these were, indeed, found to be perceptible with very moderate optical means (Mr. Wentworth Erck saw Deimos with a 7-inch Clark); but the first detection of such minute objects is a feat of a very different order from their subsequent observation. Dr. See's perception with this instrument, in 1899, of Neptune's cloud-belts, and his refined series of micrometrical measures of the various planets, attest the unimpaired excellence of its optical qualities.
It held the primacy for more than eight years. Then, in December, 1880, the place of honour had to be yielded to a 27-inch achromatic, built by Howard Grubb (son and successor of Thomas Grubb) for the Vienna Observatory. This, in its turn, was surpassed by two of respectively 29-1/2 and 30 inches, sent by Gautier of Paris to Nice, and by Alvan Clark to Pulkowa; and an object-glass, three feet in diameter, was in 1886 successfully turned out by the latter firm for the Lick Observatory in California. The difficulties, however, encountered in procuring discs of glass of the size and purity required for this last venture seemed to indicate that a term to progress in this direction was not far off. The flint was, indeed, cast with comparative ease in the workshops of M. Feil at Paris. The flawless mass weighed 170 kilogrammes, was over 38 inches across, and cost 10,000 dollars. But with the crown part of the designed achromatic combination things went less smoothly. The production of a perfect disc was only achieved after nineteen failures, involving a delay of more than two years; and the glass for a third lens, designed to render the telescope available at pleasure for photographic purposes, proved to be strained, and consequently went to pieces in the process of grinding. It has been replaced by one of 33 inches, with which a series of admirable lunar and other photographs have been taken.
Nor is the difficulty in obtaining suitable material the only obstacle to increasing the size of refractors. The "secondary spectrum," as it is called, also interposes a barrier troublesome to surmount. True achromatism cannot be obtained with ordinary flint and crown-glass; and although in lenses of "Jena glass," outstanding colour is reduced to about one-sixth its usual amount, their term of service is fatally abridged by rapid deterioration. Nevertheless, a 13-inch objective of the new variety was mounted at Königsberg in 1898; and discs of Jena crown and flint, 23 inches across, were purchased by Brashear at the Chicago Exhibition of 1893. An achromatic combination of three kinds of glass, devised by Mr. A. Taylor[1633] for Messrs. Cooke of York, has less serious drawbacks, but has not yet come into extensive use. Meanwhile, in giant telescopes affected to the full extent by chromatic aberration, such as the Lick and Yerkes refractors, the differences of focal length for the various colours are counted by inches,[1634] and this not through any lack of skill in the makers, but by the necessity of the case. Embarrassing consequences follow. Only a small part of the spectrum of a heavenly body, for instance, can be distinctly seen at one time; and a focal adjustment of half an inch is required in passing from the observation of a planetary nebula to that of its stellar nucleus. A refracting telescope loses, besides, one of its chief advantages over a reflector when its size is increased beyond a certain limit. That advantage is the greater luminosity of the images given by it. Considerably more light is transmitted through a glass lens than is reflected from an equal metallic surface. But only so long as both are of moderate dimensions. For the glass necessarily grows in thickness as its area augments, and consequently stops a larger percentage of the rays it refracts. So that a point at length arrives—fixed by the late Dr. Robinson at a diameter a little short of 3 feet[1635]—where the glass and the metal are, in this respect, on an equality; while above it the metal has the advantage. And since silvered glass gives back considerably more light than speculum metal, the stage of equalisation with lenses is reached proportionately sooner where this material is employed.[1636]
The most distinctive faculty of reflectors, however, is that of bringing rays of all refrangibilities to a focus together. They are naturally achromatic. None of the beams they collect are thrown away in colour-fringes, obnoxious both in themselves and as a waste of the chief object of astrophysicists' greed—light. Reflectors, then, are in this respect specially adapted to photographic and spectrographic use. But they have a countervailing drawback. The penalties imposed by bigness are for them peculiarly heavy. Perfect definition becomes with increasing size, more and more difficult to attain; once attained, it becomes more and more difficult to keep. For the huge masses of material employed to form great object-glasses or mirrors tend with every movement to become deformed by their own weight. Now, the slightest bending of a mirror is fatal to its performance, the effect being doubled by reflection; while in a lens alteration of figure is compensated by the equal and contrary flexures of the opposing surfaces, so that the emergent beams pursue much the same paths as if the curves of the refracting medium had remained theoretically perfect. For this reason work of precision must remain the province of refracting telescopes, although great reflectors retain the primacy in the portraiture of the heavenly bodies, as well as in certain branches of spectroscopy. Professor Hale, accordingly, summarised a valuable discussion on the subject by asserting[1637] "that the astrophysicist may properly consider the reflector to be an even more important part of his instrumental equipment than the refractor." A new era in its employment west of the Atlantic opened with the transfer from Halifax to Mount Hamilton of the Crossley reflector. Its prerogatives in nebular photography were splendidly indicated in 1899 by Professor Keeler's exquisite and searching portrayals of the cloud-worlds of space, and those obtained two years later, with a similar, though smaller, instrument, by Professor Ritchey of the Yerkes Observatory, were fully comparable with them. The performances of the Yerkes 5-foot reflector still belong to the future.
Ambition as regards telescopic power is by no means yet satisfied. Nor ought it to be. The advance of astrophysical researches of all kinds depends largely upon light-grasp. For the spectroscopic examination of stars, for the measurement of their motions in the line of sight, for the discovery and study of nebulæ, for stellar and nebular photography, the cry continually is "more light." There is no enterprising head of an observatory but must feel cramped in his designs if he can command no more than 14 or 15 inches of aperture, and he aspires to greater instrumental capacity, not merely with a view to the chances of discovery, but for the steady prosecution of some legitimate line of inquiry. Thus projects of telescope-building on a large scale are rife, and some obtain realisation year by year. Sir Howard Grubb finished in 1893 a 28-inch achromatic for the Royal Observatory, Greenwich; the Thompson equatoreal, mounted at the same establishment in 1897, carries on a single axis a 26-inch photographic refractor and a 30-inch silvered-glass reflector; the Victoria telescope, inaugurated at the Cape in 1901, comprises a powerful spectrographic apparatus, together with a chemically corrected 24-inch refractor, the whole being the munificent gift of Mr. Frank McClean; at Potsdam, at Meudon, at Paris, at Alleghany, engines for light-concentration have been, or shortly will be, erected of dimensions which, two generations back, would have seemed extravagant and impossible.
Perhaps the finest, though not absolutely the greatest, among them, marked the summit and end of the performances of Alvan G. Clark, the last survivor of the Cambridgeport firm.
In October, 1892, Mr. Yerkes of Chicago offered an unlimited sum for the provision of the University of that city with a "superlative" telescope. And it happened, fortunately, that a pair of glass discs, nearly 42 inches in diameter, and of perfect quality, were ready at hand. They had been cast by Mantois for the University of Southern California, when the erection of a great observatory on Wilson's Peak was under consideration. In the Clark workshop they were combined into a superb objective, brought to perfection by trials and delicate touches extending over nearly five years. Then the maker accompanied it to its destination, by the shore of a far Western Lake Geneva, and died immediately after his return, June 9, 1897. Nor has the implement of celestial research he just lived to complete been allowed to "rust unburnished." Manipulated by Hale, Burnham, and Barnard, it has done work that would have been impracticable with less efficient optical aid. Its construction thus marks a noticeable enlargement of astronomical possibilities, exemplified—to cite one among many performances—by Barnard's success in keeping track of cluster-variables when below the common limit of visual perception.
With the Lick telescope results have also been achieved testifying to its unsurpassed excellence. Holden's and Schaeberle's views of planetary nebulæ, Burnham's and Hussey's hair's-breadth star-splitting operations, Keeler's measurements of nebular radial motion, Barnard's detections and prolonged pursuit of faint comets, his discovery of Jupiter's tiny moon, Campbell's spectroscopic determinations—all this could only have been accomplished, even by an exceptionally able and energetic staff, with the aid of an instrument of high power and quality. But there was another condition which should not be overlooked.