Fig. 3
Fig. 4. FAST-MOVING ATOMS AND ELECTRONS
We have seen photographs of atoms and free electrons. Now we want a photograph of X-rays to complete the stellar population. We cannot quite manage that, but we can very nearly. Photographs by X-rays are common enough; but a photograph of X-rays is a different matter. I have already said that electrons can be broken away from atoms by X-rays colliding with them. When this happens the free electron is usually shot off with high velocity so that it is one of the express electrons which can be photographed. In [Fig. 5] you see four electrons shot off in this way. You notice that they all start from points in the same line, and it does not require much imagination to see in your mind a mysterious power travelling along this line and creating the explosions. That power is the X-rays which were directed in a narrow beam along the line (from right to left) when the photograph was taken. Although the X-rays are left to your imagination, the photograph at any rate shows the process of ionization which is so important in the stellar interior—the freeing of electrons from the atoms by the incidence of X-rays. You notice that it is just a chance whether the X-ray ionizes an atom when it meets it. There are trillions of atoms lying about (of which the photograph takes no notice); but, nevertheless, the X-rays travel a long way before meeting the atom which they choose to operate on.
Finally I can show you the other method of ionizing atoms by battering of a more mechanical kind—in this case by the collision of a fast electron. In [Fig. 6] a fast electron was travelling nearly horizontally, but the tiny water-drops that should mark its track are so spread out that you do not at first trace the connexion. Notice that the drops occur in pairs. This is because the fast electron battered some of the atoms along its track, wrenching away an electron from each. You see at intervals along the track a broken atom and a free electron lying side by side, though you cannot tell which is which. Occasionally the original fast electron was too vigorous and there is more of a mix up, but usually you can see clearly the two fragments resulting from the smash.[3]
A cynic might remark that the interior of a star is a very safe subject to talk about because no one can go there and prove that you are wrong. I would plead in reply that at least I am not abusing the unlimited opportunity for imagination; I am only asking you to allow in the interior of the star quite homely objects and processes which can be photographed. Perhaps now you will turn round on me and say, ‘What right have you to suppose that Nature is as barren of imagination as you are? Perhaps she has hidden in the star something novel which will upset all your ideas.’ But I think that science would never have achieved much progress if it had always imagined unknown obstacles hidden round every corner. At least we may peer gingerly round the corner, and perhaps we shall find there is nothing very formidable after all. Our object in diving into the interior is not merely to admire a fantastic world with conditions transcending ordinary experience; it is to get at the inner mechanism which makes stars behave as they do. If we are to understand the surface manifestations, if we are to understand why ‘one star differeth from another star in glory’, we must go below—to the engine-room—to trace the beginning of the stream of heat and energy which pours out through the surface. Finally, then, our theory will take us back to the surface and we shall be able to test by comparison with observation whether we have been badly misled. Meanwhile, although we naturally cannot prove a general negative, there is no reason to anticipate anything which our laboratory experience does not warn us of.
The X-rays in a star are the same as the X-rays experimented on in a laboratory, but they are enormously more abundant in the star. We can produce X-rays like the stellar X-rays, but we cannot produce them in anything like stellar abundance. The photograph ([Fig. 5]) showed a laboratory beam of X-rays which had wrenched away four electrons from different atoms; these would be speedily recaptured. In the star you must imagine the intensity multiplied many million-fold, so that electrons are being wrenched away as fast as they settle and the atoms are kept stripped almost bare. The nearly complete mutilation of the atoms is important in the study of the stars for two main reasons.
The first is this. An architect before pronouncing an opinion on the plans of a building will want to know whether the material shown in the plans is to be wood or steel or tin or paper. Similarly it would seem essential before working out details about the interior of a star to know whether it is made of heavy stuff like lead or light stuff like carbon. By means of the spectroscope we can find out a great deal about the chemical composition of the sun’s atmosphere; but it would not be fair to take this as a sample of the composition of the sun as a whole. It would be very risky to make a guess at the elements preponderating in the deep interior. Thus we seem to have reached a deadlock. But now it turns out that when the atoms are thoroughly smashed up, they all behave nearly alike—at any rate in those properties with which we are concerned in astronomy. The high temperature—which we were inclined to be afraid of at first—has simplified things for us, because it has to a large extent eliminated differences between different kinds of material. The structure of a star is an unusually simple physical problem; it is at low temperatures such as we experience on the earth that matter begins to have troublesome and complicated properties. Stellar atoms are nude savages innocent of the class distinctions of our fully arrayed terrestrial atoms. We are thus able to make progress without guessing at the chemical composition of the interior. It is necessary to make one reservation, viz. that there is not an excessive proportion of hydrogen. Hydrogen has its own way of behaving; but it makes very little difference which of the other 91 elements predominate.
The other point is one about which I shall have more to say later. It is that we must realize that the atoms in the stars are mutilated fragments of the bulky atoms with extended electron systems familiar to us on the earth; and therefore the behaviour of stellar and terrestrial gases is by no means the same in regard to properties which concern the size of the atoms.
To illustrate the effect of the chemical composition of a star, we revert to the problem of the support of the upper layers by the gas underneath. At a given temperature every independent particle contributes the same amount of support no matter what its mass or chemical nature; the lighter atoms make up for their lack of mass by moving more actively. This is a well-known law originally found in experimental chemistry, but now explained by the kinetic theory of Maxwell and Boltzmann. Suppose we had originally assumed the sun to be composed entirely of silver atoms and had made our calculations of temperature accordingly; afterwards we change our minds and substitute a lighter element, aluminium. A silver atom weighs just four times as much as an aluminium atom; hence we must substitute four aluminium atoms for every silver atom in order to keep the mass of the sun unchanged. But now the supporting force will everywhere be quadrupled, and all the mass will be heaved outwards by it if we make no further change. In order to keep the balance, the activity of each particle must be reduced in the ratio ¼; that means that we must assign throughout the aluminium sun temperatures ¼ of those assigned to the silver sun. Thus for unsmashed atoms a change in the assigned chemical composition makes a big change in our inference as to the internal temperature.