The Story of the Heavens

by Robert S. Ball

Majestic indeed are the proportions of some of those mighty prominences which leap from the luminous surface; yet they flicker, as do our terrestrial flames, when we allow them time comparable to their gigantic dimensions. Drawings of the same prominence made at intervals of a few hours, or even less, often show great changes. The magnitude of the displacements that have been noticed sometimes attains many thousands of miles, and the actual velocity with which such masses move frequently exceeds 100 miles a second. Still more violent are the convulsions when, from the surface of the chromosphere, as from a mighty furnace, vast incandescent masses of gas are projected upwards. Plate IV. gives a view of a number of prominences as seen by Trouvelot at Harvard College Observatory, Cambridge, U.S.A. Trouvelot has succeeded in exhibiting in the different pictures the wondrous variety of aspect which these objects assume. The dimensions of the prominences may be inferred from the scale appended to the plate. The largest of those here shown is fully 80,000 miles high; and trustworthy observers have recorded prominences of an altitude even much greater. The rapid changes which these objects sometimes undergo are well illustrated in the two sketches on the left of the lowest line, which were drawn on April 27th, 1872. These are both drawings of the same prominence taken at an interval no greater than twenty minutes. This mighty flame is so vast that its length is ten times as great as the diameter of the earth, yet in this brief period it has completely changed its aspect; the upper part of the flame has, indeed, broken away, and is now shown in that part of the drawing between the two figures on the line above. The same plate also shows various instances of the remarkable spike-like objects, taken, however, at different times and at various parts of the sun. These spikes attain altitudes not generally greater than 20,000 miles, though sometimes they soar aloft to stupendous distances.

We may refer to one special object of this kind, the remarkable history of which has been chronicled by Professor Young. On October 7th, 1880, a prominence was seen, at about 10.30 a.m., on the south-east limb of the sun. It was then about 40,000 miles high, and attracted no special attention. Half an hour later a marvellous transformation had taken place. During that brief interval the prominence became very brilliant and doubled its length. For another hour the mighty flame still soared upwards, until it attained the unprecedented elevation of 350,000 miles—a distance more than one-third the diameter of the great luminary itself. At this climax the energy of the mighty outbreak seems to have at last become exhausted: the flame broke up into fragments, and by 12.30—an interval of only two hours from the time when it was first noticed—the phenomenon had completely faded away.

No doubt this particular eruption was exceptional in its vehemence, and in the vastness of the changes of which it was an indication. The velocity of upheaval must have been at least 200,000 miles an hour, or, to put it in another form, more than fifty miles a second. This mighty flame leaped from the sun with a velocity more than 100 times as great as that of the swiftest bullet ever fired from a rifle.

The prominences may be generally divided into two classes. We have first those which are comparatively quiescent, and in form somewhat resemble the clouds which float in our earth's atmosphere. The second class of prominences are best described as eruptive. They are, in fact, thrown up from the chromosphere like gigantic jets of incandescent material. These two classes of objects differ not only in appearance but also in the gases of which they are composed. The cloud-like prominences consist mainly of hydrogen, with helium and calcium, while many metals are present in the eruptive discharges. The latter are never seen in the neighbourhood of the sun's poles, but generally appear close to a sun-spot, thus confirming the conclusion that the spots are associated with violent disturbances on the surface of the sun. When a spot has reached the limb of the sun it is frequently found to be surrounded by prominences. It has even been possible in a few instances to detect powerful gaseous eruptions in the neighbourhood of a spot, the spectroscope rendering them visible against the background of the solar surface just as the prominences are observed at the limb against the background of the sky.

In order to photograph a prominence we have, of course, to substitute a photographic plate for the observer's eye. Owing, however, to the difficulty of preventing the feeble light from the prominence from being overpowered by extraneous light, the photography of these bodies was not very successful until Professor Hale, of Chicago, designed his spectro-heliograph. In this instrument there is (in addition to the usual slit through which the light falls on the prisms, or grating,) a second slit immediately in front of the photographic plate through which the light of a given wave-length can be permitted to pass to the exclusion of all the rest. The light chosen for producing an image of the prominences is that radiated in the remarkable "K line," due to calcium. This lies at the extreme end of the violet. The light from that part of the spectrum, though it is invisible to the eye, is much more active photographically than the light from the red, yellow, or green parts of the spectrum. The front slit is adjusted so that the K line falls upon the second slit, and as the front slit is slowly swept by clockwork over the whole of a prominence, the second slit keeps pace with it by a mechanical contrivance.

If the image of the solar disc is hidden by a screen of exactly the proper size, the slits may be made to sweep over the whole sun, thus giving us at one exposure a picture of the chromospheric ring round the sun's limb with its prominences. The screen may now be withdrawn, and the slits may be made to sweep rapidly over the disc itself. They reveal the existence of glowing calcium vapours in many parts of the surface of the sun. Thus we get a striking picture of the sun as drawn by this particular light. In this manner Professor Hale confirmed the observation made long before by Professor Young, that the spectra of faculæ always show the two great calcium bands.

The velocity with which a prominence shoots upward from the sun's limb can, of course, be measured directly by observations of the ordinary kind with a micrometer. The spectroscope, however, enables us to estimate the speed with which disturbances at the surface of the sun travel in the direction towards the earth or from the earth. We can measure this speed by watching the peculiar behaviour of the spectral lines representing the rapidly moving masses. This opens up a remarkable line of investigation with important applications in many branches of astronomy.

It is, of course, now generally understood that the sensation of light is caused by waves or undulations which impinge on the retina of the eye after having been transmitted through that medium which we call the ether. To the different colours correspond different wave-lengths—that is to say, different distances between two successive waves. A beam of white light is formed by the union of innumerable different waves whose lengths have almost every possible value lying between certain limits. The wave-length of red light is such that there are 33,000 waves in an inch, while that of violet light is but little more than half that of red light. The position of a line in the spectrum depends solely on the wave-length of the light to which it is due. Suppose that the source of light is approaching directly towards the observer; obviously the waves follow each other more closely than if the source were at rest, and the number of undulations which his eye receives in a second must be proportionately increased. Thus the distance between two successive ether waves will be very slightly diminished. A well-known phenomenon of a similar character is the change of pitch of the whistle of a locomotive engine as it rushes past. This is particularly noticeable if the observer happens to be in a train which is moving rapidly in the opposite direction. In the case of sound, of course, the vibrations or waves take place in the air and not in the ether. But the effect of motion to or from the observer is strictly analogous in the two cases. As, however, light travels 186,000 miles a second, the source of light will also have to travel with a very high velocity in order to produce even the smallest perceptible change in the position of a spectral line.

We have already seen that enormously high velocities are by no means uncommon in some of these mighty disturbances on the sun; accordingly, when we examine the spectrum of a sun-spot, we often see that some of the lines are shifted a little towards one end of the spectrum and sometimes towards the other, while in other cases the lines are seen to be distorted or twisted in the most fantastic manner, indicating very violent local commotions. If the spot happens to be near the centre of the sun's disc, the gases must be shooting upwards or downwards to produce these changes in the lines. The velocities indicated in observations of this class sometimes amount to as much as two or even three hundred miles per second. We find it difficult to conceive the enormous internal pressures which are required to impel such mighty masses of gases aloft from the photosphere with speeds so terrific, or the conditions which bring about the downrush of such gigantic masses of vapour from above. In the spectra of the prominences on the sun's limb also we often see the bright lines bent or shifted to one side. In such cases what we witness is evidently caused by movements along the surface of the chromosphere, conveying materials towards us or away from us.