The Story of the Heavens by Sir Robert Stawell Ball (fantasy books to read .txt) 📕

PREFACE TO ORIGINAL EDITION.

I have to acknowledge the kind aid which I have received in the preparation of this book.

Mr. Nasmyth has permitted me to use some of the beautiful drawings of the Moon, which have appeared in the well-known work published by him in conjunction with Mr. Carpenter. To this source I am indebted for Plates VII., VIII., IX., X., and Figs. 28, 29, 30.

Professor Pickering has allowed me to copy some of the drawings made at Harvard College Observatory by Mr. Trouvelot, and I have availed myself of his kindness for Plates I., IV., XII., XV.

I am indebted to Professor Langley for Plate II., to Mr. De la Rue for Plates III. and XIV., to Mr. T.E. Key for Plate XVII., to Professor Schiaparelli for Plate XVIII., to the late Professor C. Piazzi Smyth for Fig. 100, to Mr. Chambers for Fig. 7, which has been borrowed from his "Handbook of Descriptive Astronomy," to Dr. Stoney for Fig. 78, and to Dr. Copeland and Dr. Dreyer for Fig. 72. I have to acknowledge the valuable assistance derived from Professor Newcomb's "Popular Astronomy," and Professor Young's "Sun." In revising the volume I have had the kind aid of the Rev. Maxwell Close.

I have also to thank Dr. Copeland and Mr. Steele for their kindness in reading through the entire proofs; while I have also occasionally availed myself of the help of Mr. Cathcart.

ROBERT S. BALL.

OBSERVATORY, DUNSINK, CO. DUBLIN.
_12th May, 1886._


NOTE TO THIS EDITION.

I have taken the opportunity in the present edition to revise the work in accordance with the recent progress of astronomy. I am indebted to the Royal Astronomical Society for the permission to reproduce some photographs from their published series, and to Mr. Henry F. Griffiths, for beautiful drawings of Jupiter, from which Plate XI. was prepared.

ROBERT S. BALL.

CAMBRIDGE,
_1st May, 1900_.


CONTENTS.



INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER

I. THE ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATORY

II. THE SUN

III. THE MOON

IV. THE SOLAR SYSTEM

V. THE LAW OF GRAVITATION

VI. THE PLANET OF ROMANCE

VII. MERCURY

VIII. VENUS

IX. THE EARTH

X. MARS

XI. THE MINOR PLANETS

XII. JUPITER

XIII. SATURN

XIV. URANUS

XV. NEPTUNE

XVI. COMETS

XVII. SHOOTING STARS

XVIII. THE STARRY HEAVENS

XIX. THE DISTANT SUNS

XX. DOUBLE STARS

XXI. THE DISTANCES OF THE STARS

XXII. STAR CLUSTERS AND NEBULAE

XXIII. THE PHYSICAL NATURE OF THE STARS

XXIV. THE PRECESSION AND NUTATION OF THE EARTH'S AXIS

XXV. THE ABERRATION OF LIGHT

XXVI. THE ASTRONOMICAL SIGNIFICANCE OF HEAT

XXVII. THE TIDES



THE STORY OF THE HEAVENS.

"The Story of the Heavens" is the title of our book. We have indeed a wondrous story to narrate; and could we tell it adequately it would prove of boundless interest and of exquisite beauty. It leads to the contemplation of grand phenomena in nature and great achievements of human genius.

Let us enumerate a few of the questions which will be naturally asked by one who seeks to learn something of those glorious bodies which adorn our skies: What is the Sun--how hot, how big, and how distant? Whence comes its heat? What is the Moon? What are its landscapes like? How does our satellite move? How is it related to the earth? Are the planets globes like that on which we live? How large are they, and how far off? What do we know of the satellites of Jupiter and of the rings of Saturn? How was Uranus discovered? What was the intellectual triumph which brought the planet Neptune to light? Then, as to the other bodies of our system, what are we to say of those mysterious objects, the comets? Can we discover the laws of their seemingly capricious movements? Do we know anything of their nature and of the marvellous tails with which they are often decorated? What can be told about the shooting-stars which so often dash into our atmosphere and perish in a streak of splendour? What is the nature of those constellations of bright stars which have been recognised from all antiquity, and of the host of smaller stars which our telescopes disclose? Can it be true that these countless orbs are really majestic suns, sunk to an appalling depth in the abyss of unfathomable space? What have we to tell of the different varieties of stars--of coloured stars, of variable stars, of double stars, of multiple stars, of stars that seem to move, and of stars that seem at rest? What of those glorious objects, the great star clusters? What of the Milky Way? And, lastly, what can we learn of the marvellous nebulae which our telescopes disclose, poised at an immeasurable distance? Such are a few of the questions which occur when we ponder on the mysteries of the heavens.

The history of Astronomy is, in one respect, only too like many other histories. The earliest part of it is completely and hopelessly lost. The stars had been studied, and some great astronomical discoveries had been made, untold ages before those to which our earliest historical records extend. For example, the observation of the apparent movement of the sun, and the discrimination between the planets and the fixed stars, are both to be classed among the discoveries of prehistoric ages. Nor is it to be said that these achievements related to matters of an obvious character. Ancient astronomy may seem very elementary to those of the present day who have been familiar from childhood with the great truths of nature, but, in the infancy of science, the men who made such discoveries as we have mentioned must have been sagacious philosophers.

Of all the phenomena of astronomy the first and the most obvious is that of the rising and the setting of the sun. We may assume that in the dawn of human intelligence these daily occurrences would form one of the first problems to engage the attention of those whose thoughts rose above the animal anxieties of everyday existence. A sun sets and disappears in the west. The following morning a sun rises in the east, moves across the heavens, and it too disappears in the west; the same appearances recur every day. To us it is obvious that the sun, which appears each day, is the same sun; but this would not seem reasonable to one who thought his senses showed him that the earth was a flat plain of indefinite extent, and that around the inhabited regions on all sides extended, to vast distances, either desert wastes or trackless oceans. How could that same sun, which plunged into the ocean at a fabulous distance in the west, reappear the next morning at an equally great distance in the east? The old mythology asserted that after the sun had dipped in the western ocean at sunset (the Iberians, and other ancient nations, actually imagined that they could hear the hissing of the waters when the glowing globe was plunged therein), it was seized by Vulcan and placed in a golden goblet. This strange craft with its astonishing cargo navigated the ocean by a northerly course, so as to reach the east again in time for sunrise the following morning. Among the earlier physicists of old it was believed that in some manner the sun was conveyed by night across the northern regions, and that darkness was due to lofty mountains, which screened off the sunbeams during the voyage.

In the course of time it was thought more rational to suppose that the sun actually pursued his course below the solid earth during the course of the night. The early astronomers had, moreover, learned to recognise the fixed stars. It was noticed that, like the sun, many of these stars rose and set in consequence of the diurnal movement, while the moon obviously followed a similar law. Philosophers thus taught that the various heavenly bodies were in the habit of actually passing beneath the solid earth.

By the acknowledgment that the whole contents of the heavens performed these movements, an important step in comprehending the constitution of the universe had been decidedly taken. It was clear that the earth could not be a plane extending to an indefinitely great distance. It was also obvious that there must be a finite depth to the earth below our feet. Nay, more, it became certain that whatever the shape of the earth might be, it was at all events something detached from all other bodies, and poised without visible support in space. When this discovery was first announced it must have appeared a very startling truth. It was so difficult to realise that the solid earth on which we stand reposed on nothing! What was to keep it from falling? How could it be sustained without tangible support, like the legendary coffin of Mahomet? But difficult as it may have been to receive this doctrine, yet its necessary truth in due time commanded assent, and the science of Astronomy began to exist. The changes of the seasons and the recurrence of seed-time and harvest must, from the earliest times, have been associated with certain changes in the position of the sun. In the summer at mid-day the sun rises high in the heavens, in the winter it is always low. Our luminary, therefore, performs an annual movement up and down in the heavens, as well as a diurnal movement of rising and setting. But there is a third species of change in the sun's position, which is not quite so obvious, though it is still capable of being detected by a few careful observations, if combined with a philosophical habit of reflection. The very earliest observers of the stars can hardly have failed to notice that the constellations visible at night varied with the season of the year. For instance, the brilliant figure of Orion, though so well seen on winter nights, is absent from the summer skies, and the place it occupied is then taken by quite different groups of stars. The same may be said of other constellations. Each season of the year can thus be characterised by the sidereal objects that are conspicuous by night. Indeed, in ancient days, the time for commencing the cycle of agricultural occupations was sometimes indicated by the position of the constellations in the evening.

By reflecting on these facts the early astronomers were enabled to demonstrate the apparent annual movement of the sun. There could be no rational explanation of the changes in the constellations with the seasons, except by supposing that the place of the sun was altering, so as to make a complete circuit of the heavens in the course of the year. This movement of the sun is otherwise confirmed by looking at the west after sunset, and watching the stars. As the season progresses, it may be noticed each evening that the constellations seem to sink lower and lower towards the west, until at length they become invisible from the brightness of the sky. The disappearance is explained by the supposition that the sun appears to be continually ascending from the west to meet the stars. This motion is, of course, not to be confounded with the ordinary diurnal rising and setting, in which all the heavenly bodies participate. It is to be understood that besides being affected by the common motion our luminary has a slow independent movement in the opposite direction; so that though the sun and a