The night being dark and clear, we take the five-inch and turn it on the nebula 3128, which the [map] shows just under the border of Corvus in the edge of Hydra. Herschel believed he had resolved this into stars. It is a faint object and small, not exceeding one eighth of the moon's diameter.
Farther east in Hydra, as indicated near the left-hand edge of [map No. 8], is a somewhat remarkable variable, R Hydræ. This star occasionally reaches magnitude three and a half, while at minimum it is not much above the tenth magnitude. Its period is about four hundred and twenty-five days.
While we have been examining these comparatively barren regions, glad to find one or two colored doubles to relieve the monotony of the search, a glittering white star has frequently drawn our eyes eastward and upward. It is Spica, the great gem of Virgo, and, yielding to its attraction, we now enter the richer constellation over which it presides ([map No. 9]). Except for its beauty, which every one must admire, Spica, or α Virginis, has no special claim upon our attention. Some evidence has been obtained that, like β Aurigæ and Capella, it revolves with an invisible companion of great mass in an orbit only six million miles in diameter. Spica's spectrum resembles that of Sirius. The faint star which our larger apertures show about 6' northeast of Spica is of the tenth magnitude.
Sweeping westward, we come upon Σ 1669, a pretty little double with nearly equal components of about the sixth magnitude, distance 5.6", p. 124°. But our interest is not fully aroused until we reach γ, a star with a history. The components of this celebrated binary are both nearly of the third magnitude, distance about 5.8", p. 150°. They revolve around their common center in something less than two hundred years. According to some authorities, the period is one hundred and seventy years, but it is not yet certainly ascertained. It was noticed about the beginning of the seventeenth century that γ Virginis was double. In 1836 the stars were so close together that no telescope then in existence was able to separate them, although it is said that the disk into which they had merged was elongated at Pulkowa. In a few years they became easily separable once more. If the one-hundred-and-seventy-year period is correct, they should continue to get farther apart until about 1921. According to Asaph Hall, their greatest apparent distance is 6.3", and their least apparent distance 0.5"; consequently, they will never again close up beyond the separating power of existing telescopes.
There is a great charm in watching this pair of stars even with a three-inch telescope—not so much on account of what is seen, although they are very beautiful, as on account of what we know they are doing. It is no slight thing to behold two distant stars obeying the law that makes a stone fall to the ground and compels the earth to swing round the sun.
In θ we discover a fine triple, magnitudes four and a half, nine, and ten; distances 7", p. 345°, and 65", p. 295°. The ninth-magnitude star has been described as "violet," but such designations of color are often misleading when the star is very faint. On the other hand it should not be assumed that a certain color does not exist because the observer can not perceive it, for experience shows that there is a wide difference among observers in the power of the eye to distinguish color. I have known persons who could not perceive the difference of hue in some of the most beautifully contrasted colored doubles to be found in the sky. I am acquainted with an astronomer of long experience in the use of telescopes, whose eye is so deficient in color sense that he denies that there are any decided colors among the stars. Such persons miss one of the finest pleasures of the telescope. In examining θ Virginis we shall do best to use our largest aperture, viz., the five-inch. Yet Webb records that all three of the stars in this triple have been seen with a telescope of only three inches aperture. The amateur must remember in such cases how much depends upon practice as well as upon the condition of the atmosphere. There are lamentably few nights in a year when even the best telescope is ideally perfect in performance, but every night's observation increases the capacity of the eye, begetting a kind of critical judgment which renders it to some extent independent of atmospheric vagaries. It will also be found that the idiosyncrasies of the observer are reflected in his instrument, which seems to have its fits of excellence, its inspirations so to speak, while at other times it behaves as if all its wonderful powers had departed.
Another double that perhaps we had better not try with less than four inches aperture is 84 Virginis. The magnitudes are six and nine; distance, 3.5", p. 233°. Colors yellow and blue. Σ 1846 is a fifth-magnitude star with a tenth-magnitude companion, distance only 4", p. 108°. Use the five-inch.
And now we approach something that is truly marvelous, the "Field of the Nebulæ." This strange region, lying mostly in the constellation Virgo, is roughly outlined by the stars β, η, γ, δ, and ε, which form two sides of a square some 15° across. It extends, however, for some distance into Coma Berenices, while outlying nebulæ belonging to it are also to be found in the eastern part of Leo. Unfortunately for those who expect only brilliant revelations when they look through a telescope, this throng of nebulæ consists of small and inconspicuous wisps as ill defined as bits of thistle-down floating high in the air. There are more than three hundred of them all told, but even the brightest are faint objects when seen with the largest of our telescopes. Why do they congregate thus? That is the question which lends an interest to the assemblage that no individual member of it could alone command. It is a mystery, but beyond question it is explicable. The explanation, however, is yet to be discovered.