Flowers of the Sky

by Richard A. Proctor

The spectrum of the new star as examined by M. Cornu, of the Paris Observatory, showed the bright lines of hydrogen, indicating the presence of enormous quantities of glowing hydrogen, in a state of intense heat. But beside these bright lines, others also could be seen. One of these was an orange-yellow line. It will be understood that the faint spectrum of a star cannot be so readily lengthened by increasing the dispersion as a bright spectrum; for with too great dispersion the light fades out altogether. And though this is not strictly the case with the bright lines, which are merely thrown farther apart by dispersion, yet still it remains true that one cannot deal with a star spectrum even of bright lines as one can with the solar spectrum. So that M. Cornu was not able to determine whether the orange-yellow line belonged to sodium, or to that other substance, whatever it may be, which produces the orange-yellow line seen in the spectrum of a solar prominence.[9] Another bright line, green in colour, agreed in position with a triple line belonging to the metal magnesium. Lastly, a bright yellowish-green line was seen, which is known to be present in the spectrum of the sun's corona and of the low-lying ruddy matter round the sun, called the sierra by some, and by others (apparently unfamiliar with the Greek language) the chromosphere.

Now all this agrees very well with what had been noticed in the case of the star in the Northern Crown. For, unquestionably, if a sun increases so much in heat and lustre that the hydrogen outside it glows more brightly than the body of the star, then other matter outside that sun might also be expected to share the great increase of heat. We see that, outside our own sun, hydrogen, a certain unknown vapour of an orange yellow colour, magnesium, and another unknown vapour of greenish-yellow colour are present in enormous quantities; and it seems, therefore, reasonable to believe that other suns have these gases extending far outside the rest of their substance. It is certain that, if our sun were caused to glow with far more than its present degree of heat, the gases whose increase of brightness would be most discernible from a distant station (as a world circling around some remote star) would be just those gases which were glowing so resplendency around the star in Cygnus last November—or rather at the time when that light which reached us last November set out from the remote star in the Swan.

When we view the outburst of that remote sun in this way the thoughts suggested are not altogether satisfactory. That sun shows far too much resemblance to our own, and behaved, so far as can be judged, far too much as our own sun would behave if roused to many times its present degree of heat and splendour. When we hear of a railway accident it is a matter of special interest to us (if we travel much) to learn whether the conditions under which the accident took place resembled those under which the trains proceed by which we chiefly travel. When an express train suffers in such a way as to show some special danger arising from great velocity, we find ourselves to some degree concerned personally in the investigation which follows, if we travel generally by quick trains. If a bridge breaks down, and we have often to traverse bridges in railway journeying, we are similarly concerned, especially if any of the bridges we have to cross resemble in structure the one which has given way. So also of many other special forms of danger in railway travelling. Now, on the same principle, we cannot but regard with considerable interest the circumstance that, apparently, a catastrophe has taken place in the star in Cygnus, which has not only affected a sun resembling our own very closely in constitution, but has produced effects very closely corresponding to those which would affect our own sun if, through any cause, he were excited to many times his present degree of heat.

Let us pause a little to reflect upon the effects which would follow a great increase of the sun's lustre. A change in our own sun, such as affected the star in Cygnus, or that other star in the Northern Crown, would unquestionably destroy every living creature on the face of this earth; nor could any even escape which may exist on the other planets of the solar system. The star in the Northern Crown shone out with more than 800 times its former lustre: the star in Cygnus with from 500 to many thousand times its former lustre, according as we take the highest possible estimate of its brightness before the catastrophe, or consider that it may have been very much fainter. Now, if our sun were to increase tenfold in brightness, all the higher forms of animal life and nearly all vegetable life would inevitably be destroyed on this earth. A few stubborn animalcules might survive, and, possibly, a few of the lowest forms of vegetation, but naught else. If the sun increased a hundredfold in lustre his heat would doubtless sterilise the whole earth. The same would happen in other planets. The heat falling on the remotest members of the solar system would not, indeed, be excessive according to our conceptions. But if we regard Neptune, Uranus, Saturn, and Jupiter as the abode of life (which, for my own part, I consider altogether improbable), we cannot but suppose the orders of living creatures in each of these planets to be well fitted to exist under the conditions subsisting around them. If this is so—as who can for a moment doubt?—a sudden enormous increase in the sun's heat, though not making the supply received by those planets much greater than, or even equal to, the supply which we receive from the sun, would prove as fatal to living creatures there as to living creatures on our earth.

If, then, the sun increased in splendour as the stars have increased which the astronomers call new stars or temporary stars, there would be an end of life upon this earth; and nothing short of either the spontaneous development of life, or of the creation of various forms of life, could people our earth afresh. Science knows nothing of spontaneous generation, and believers in revelation reject the doctrine. Science knows nothing of the creation of living forms, but believers in revelation accept the doctrine. Certain it is that if our sun ever undergoes the baptism of fire which has affected some few among his brother suns, one or other of these processes (if creation can be called a process) must come into operation, or else our earth and her companion worlds would for ever after remain absolutely devoid of life.

But if our sun, without suffering so great a change, underwent a change of less degree, it might well happen that though there would be enormous destruction of life upon the earth and other planets, some life (presumably the strongest and best) would survive. In that case, after a long period of time, the earth would again be well peopled, and it might even be that the various races of terrestrial creatures would be improved, by the desolation which the great solar conflagration had wrought.

It is somewhat curious, considering how little there is in the ordinary progress of events to suggest the idea, that most of the ancient systems of cosmogony recognised the periodical destruction of living creatures on the earth by fire as well as by water. Each form of destruction was supposed to be brought about by planetary influences. The Ecpyrosis, or destruction by fire, was effected when all the planets were in conjunction with Cancer; the Cataclysm, or destruction by flood, when all the planets were in conjunction with Capricorn. Each form of destruction was supposed also to purify the human race. "Towards the termination of each era," writes Lyell, speaking of these old ideas, "the gods could no longer bear with the wickedness of men, and a shock of the elements or a deluge overwhelmed them; after which calamity Astrea again descended on the earth, to renew the golden age." The Greeks undoubtedly borrowed all such doctrines from the Egyptians, who "believed the world to be subject to occasional conflagrations and deluges, whereby the gods arrested the career of human wickedness, and purified the earth from guilt. After each regeneration mankind was in a state of virtue and happiness, from which they gradually degenerated again into vice and immorality."

Considering that we have every reason to believe the records of great floods to relate to events which actually occurred, however imperfectly remembered, it seems not unreasonable to believe that the tradition of great heats had its origin in observed phenomena. As neither ordinary conflagrations nor volcanic outbursts would have suggested traditions of the kind, it would seem not impossible that at certain times our sun may have acquired for a time unusual lustre and heat, causing great and widely spread destruction among all forms of animal and vegetable life.

This idea may possibly seem to many, especially at a first view, too wild to be entertained for a moment. Our sun shines, so far as appears to ordinary observation, with steadfast lustre from year to year, and also from age to age. If an occasional hot season suggests for a while to some that the sun has grown hotter, or a cool season that he has grown cooler, the restoration of cool or warmer weather, as the case may be, causes the thought to be quickly cast on one side that a change of either kind has taken place. Again, if we examine the historical records of past ages, we find little to suggest the idea, or even the possibility, that the sun in former times shone with greater splendour or with less than at present. The men of those days were formed like the men of our own day, and could not have supported any much greater degree of heat or of cold than men can support at present. Any sudden accession (or diminution) of solar light and heat, such as we are considering, would certainly have attracted marked attention, and have been recorded for the benefit of future ages. The geologic record, again, does, indeed, suggest variations in the sun's emission of heat as constituting one among the few available explanations of the existence of tropical forms of life in certain strata and of arctic forms in other strata. But even if this explanation be the true one, which is by no means established, such variations must of necessity have been slow, the condition of increased heat continuing for many ages in succession, and the like with the condition of diminished heat. We have no evidence, historical or geological, of the occurrence of any sudden accession of solar heat, followed by a quick return to the normal temperature, unless we find such evidence in the tradition prevalent among Egyptian, Indian, and Chinese cosmogonists, that at certain recurring epochs in the past our earth has undergone destruction and renovation by fire.

Yet, as I shall now show, it appears that the one only natural interpretation which can be given of the outburst of a new or temporary sun indicates an event which might happen to our own sun, and an event which if it happened at all would happen periodically. Moreover, while it will appear that there is no reason for fearing the possible occurrence (which would, in such case, be really the recurrence) of such a catastrophe in the case of our own sun as has affected the stars in the Crown and in Cygnus, there is no reason for rejecting as incredible the idea that catastrophes very serious in their character may have affected our sun; and there is abundant reason for believing that small alterations in the sun's total emission of light and heat take place very often, in some cases periodically; in others—so far as we can yet judge—periodically.