A Popular History of Astronomy During the Nineteenth Century / Fourth Edition

by Agnes M. Clerke

The "cœlostat," in the form given to it by Professor Turner, has proved an invaluable adjunct to eclipse-equipments. It consists essentially of a mirror rotating in forty-eight hours on an axis in its own plane, and parallel to the earth's axis. In the field of a telescope kept rigidly pointed towards such a mirror, stars appear immovably fixed. The employment of long-focus lenses for coronal photography is thus facilitated, and the size of the image is proportional to the length of the focus. Professor Barnard, accordingly, depicted the totality of 1900 with a horizontal telescope 61-1/2 feet long, fed by a mirror 18 inches across, the diameter of the moon on his plates being 7 inches. The largest siderostat in the world is the Paris 50-inch refractor, which formed the chief attraction of the Palais d'Optique at the Exhibition of 1900. It has a focal length of nearly 200 feet, and can be used either for photographic or for visual purposes.

Celestial photography has not reached its grand climacteric; yet its earliest beginnings already seem centuries behind its present performances. The details of its gradual yet rapid improvement are of too technical a nature to find a place in these pages. Suffice it to say that the "dry-plate" process, with which such wonderful results have been obtained, appears to have been first made available by Sir William Huggins in photographing the spectrum of Vega in 1876, and was then successively adopted by Common, Draper, and Janssen. Nor should Captain Abney's remarkable extension of the powers of the camera be left unnoticed. He began his experiments on the chemical action of red and infra-red rays in 1874, and at length succeeded in obtaining a substance—the "blue" bromide of silver—highly sensitive to these slower vibrations of light. With its aid he explored a vast, unknown, and for ever invisible region of the solar spectrum, presenting to the Royal Society, December 5, 1879,[1651] a detailed map of its infra-red portion (wave-lengths 7,600 to 10,750), from which valuable inferences may yet be derived as to the condition of the various kinds of matter ignited in the solar atmosphere. Upon plates rendered "orthochromatic" by staining with alizarine, or other dye-stuffs, the whole visible spectrum can now be photographed; but those with their maximum of sensitiveness near G are found preferable, except where the results of light-analysis are sought to be completely recorded. And since photographic refractors are corrected for the blue rays, exposures with them of orthochromatic surfaces would be entirely futile.

The chemical plate has two advantages over the human retina:[1652] First, it is sensitive to rays which are utterly powerless to produce any visual effect; next, it can accumulate impression almost indefinitely, while from the retina they fade after one-tenth part of a second, leaving it a continually renewed tabula rasa.

It is, accordingly, quite possible to photograph objects so faint as to be altogether beyond the power of any telescope to reveal—witness the chemical disclosure of the invisible nebula encircling Nova Persei—and we may thus eventually learn whether a blank space in the sky truly represents the end of the stellar universe in that direction, or whether farther and farther worlds roll and shine beyond, veiled in the obscurity of immeasurable distance.

Of many ingenious improvements in spectroscopic appliances the most fundamentally important relate to what are known as "gratings." These are very finely striated surfaces, by which light-waves are brought to interfere, and are thus sifted out, strictly according to their different lengths, into "normal" spectra. Since no universally valid measures can be made in any others, their production is quite indispensable to spectroscopic science. Fraunhofer, who initiated the study of the diffraction spectrum, used a real grating of very fine wires: but rulings on glass were adopted by his successors, and were by Nobert executed with such consummate skill that a single square inch of surface was made to contain 100,000 hand-drawn lines. Such rare and costly triumphs of art, however, found their way into very few hands, and practical availability was first given to this kind of instrument by the inventiveness and mechanical dexterity of two American investigators. Both Rutherfurd's and Rowland's gratings are machine-ruled, and reflect instead of transmitting the rays they analyse; but Rowland's present to them a very much larger diffractive surface, and consequently possess a higher resolving power. The first preliminary to his improvements was the production, in 1882, of a faultless screw, those previously in use having been the inevitable source of periodical errors in striation, giving, in their turn, ghost-lines as subjects of spectroscopic study.[1653] Their abolition was not one of Rowland's least achievements. With his perfected machine a metallic area of 6-1/4 by 4-1/4 inches can be ruled with exquisite accuracy to almost any degree of fineness; he considered, however, 43,000 lines to the inch to be the limit of usefulness.[1654] The ruled surface is, moreover, concave, and hence brings the spectrum to a focus without a telescope. A slit and an eye-piece are alone needed to view it, and absorption of light by glass lenses is obviated—an advantage especially sensible in dealing with the ultra- or infra-visible rays.

The high qualities of Rowland's great photographic map of the solar spectrum were thus based upon his previous improvement of the instrumental means used in its execution. The amount of detail shown in it is illustrated by the appearance on the negatives of 150 lines between H and K; and many lines depict themselves as double which, until examined with a concave grating, had passed for one and indivisible. A corresponding hand-drawing, for which M. Thollon received in 1886 the Lalande Prize, exhibits, not the diffractive, but the prismatic spectrum as obtained with bisulphide of carbon prisms of large dispersive power. About one-third of the visible gamut of the solar radiations (A to b) is covered by it; it includes 3,200 lines, and is over ten metres long.[1655] The grating is an expensive tool in the way of light. Where there is none to spare, its advantages must be foregone. They could not, accordingly, be turned to account in stellar spectroscopy until the Lick telescope was at hand to supply more abundant material for research. By the use thus made possible of Rowland's gratings, Professor Keeler was able to apply enormous dispersion to the rays of stars and nebulæ, and so to attain a previously unheard-of degree of accuracy in their measurement. His memorable detection of nebular movement in line of sight ensued as a consequence. Professor Campbell, his successor, has since obtained, by the same means, the first satisfactory photographs of stellar diffraction-spectra.

The means at the disposal of astronomers have not multiplied faster than the tasks imposed upon them. Looking back to the year 1800, we cannot fail to be astonished at the change. The comparatively simple and serene science of the heavenly bodies known to our predecessors, almost perfect so far as it went, incurious of what lay beyond its grasp, has developed into a body of manifold powers and parts, each with its separate mode and means of growth, full of strong vitality, but animated by a restless and unsatisfied spirit, haunted by the sense of problems unsolved, and tormented by conscious impotence to sound the immensities it perpetually confronts.

Knowledge might be said, when the Mécanique Céleste issued from the press, to be bounded by the solar system; but even the solar system presented itself under an aspect strangely different from what it now wears. It consisted of the sun, seven planets, and twice as many satellites, all circling harmoniously in obedience to a universal law, by the compensating action of which the indefinite stability of their mutual relations was secured. The occasional incursion of a comet, or the periodical presence of a single such wanderer chained down from escape to outer space by planetary attraction, availed nothing to impair the symmetry of the majestic spectacle.

Now, not alone the ascertained limits of the system have been widened by a thousand millions of miles, with the addition of one more giant planet and seven satellites to the ancient classes of its members, but a complexity has been given to its constitution baffling description or thought. Five hundred circulating planetary bodies bridge the gap between Jupiter and Mars, the complete investigation of the movements of any one of which would overtask the energies of a lifetime. Meteorites, strangers, apparently, to the fundamental ordering of the solar household, swarm, nevertheless, by millions in every cranny of its space, returning at regular intervals like the comets so singularly associated with them, or sweeping across it with hyperbolic velocities, brought, perhaps, from some distant star. And each of these cosmical grains of dust has a theory far more complex than that of Jupiter; it bears within it the secret of its origin, and fulfils a function in the universe. The sun itself is no longer a semi-fabulous, fire-girt globe, but the vast scene of the play of forces as yet imperfectly known to us, offering a boundless field for the most arduous and inspiring researches. Among the planets the widest variety in physical habitudes is seen to prevail, and each is recognised as a world apart, inviting inquiries which, to be effective, must necessarily be special and detailed. Even our own moon threatens to break loose from the trammels of calculation, and commits "errors" which sap the very foundations of the lunar theory, and suggest the formidable necessity for its complete revision. Nay, the steadfast earth has forfeited the implicit confidence placed in it as a time-keeper, and questions relating to the stability of the earth's axis and the constancy of the earth's rate of rotation are among those which it behoves the future to answer. Everywhere there is multiformity and change, stimulating a curiosity which the rapid development of methods of research offers the possibility of at least partially gratifying.

Outside the solar system, the problems which demand a practical solution are virtually infinite in number and extent. And these have all arisen and crowded upon our thoughts within less than a hundred years. For sidereal science became a recognised branch of astronomy only through Herschel's discovery of the revolutions of double stars in 1802. Yet already it may be, and has been called, "the astronomy of the future," so rapidly has the development of a keen and universal interest attended and stimulated the growth of power to investigate this sublime subject. What has been done is little—is scarcely a beginning; yet it is much in comparison with the total blank of a century past. And our knowledge will, we are easily persuaded, appear in turn the merest ignorance to those who come after us. Yet it is not to be despised, since by it we reach up groping fingers to touch the hem of the garment of the Most High.