CHAPTER IV

ACCIDENTAL DISCOVERIES

[Sidenote: The Oxford new star found during work on Astrographic Chart.]

In reviewing various types of astronomical discovery I have laid some

stress upon the fact that they are, generally speaking, far from being

accidental in character. A new planet does not "swim into our ken," at any

rate not usually, but is found only after diligent search, and then only

by an investigator of acute vision, or other special qualifications. But

this is, of course, not always the case. Some discoveries are made by the

merest accident, as we have had occasion to remark incidentally in the

case of the minor planets; and for the sake of completeness it is

desirable to include among our types at least one case of such accidental

discovery. As, however, the selection is a little invidious, I may perhaps

be pardoned for taking the instance from my own experience, which happens

to include a case where one of those remarkable objects called "new stars"

walked deliberately into a net spread for totally different objects. There

is the further reason for choosing this instance: that it will afford me

the opportunity of saying something about the special research in which we

were actually engaged, the work of mapping out the heavens by

photography, or, as it has been called, the Astrographic Chart--a great

scheme of international co-operation by which it is hoped to leave as a

legacy for future centuries a record of the state of the sky in our age.

Such a record cannot be complete; for however faint the stars included, we

know that there are fainter stars which might have been included had we

given longer exposures to the plates. Nor can it be in other ways final or

perfect; however large the scale, for instance, on which the map is made,

we can imagine the scale doubled or increased many-fold. But the map will

be a great advance on anything that has hitherto been made, and some

account of it will therefore no doubt be of interest.

[Sidenote: Origin of the chart.]

We may perhaps begin with a brief historical account of the enterprise.

Photographs of the stars were taken many years ago, but only by a few

enthusiasts, and with no serious hope of competing with eye observations

of the sky. The old wet-plate photography was, in fact, somewhat unsuited

to astronomical purposes; to photograph faint objects a long exposure is

necessary, and the wet plate may dry up before the exposure is

concluded--nay, even before it is commenced, if the observer has to wait

for passing clouds--and therefore it may be said that the successful

application of photography to astronomy dates from the time when the dry

plate was invented; when it became possible to expose a plate in the

telescope for hours, or by accumulation even for days. The dry plate

remains sensitive for a long period, and if it is desired to extend an

exposure beyond the limits of one night, it is quite easy to close up

the telescope and return to the operations again on the next fine night;

and so on, if not perhaps indefinitely, at any rate so long as to

transcend the limits of human patience up to the present.

[Illustration:

VII.--GREAT COMET OF NOV. 7TH, 1882

(_From a photograph taken at the Royal Observatory, Cape of Good Hope._)]

[Sidenote: Comet of 1882.]

[Sidenote: Stars shown on the pictures.]

But to consider our particular project. We may assign, perhaps, the date

1882 as that in which it first began to take shape. In that year there was

a magnificent bright comet, the last really large comet which we, in the

Northern Hemisphere, have had the good fortune to see. Some of us, of

course, were not born at that time, and perhaps others who were alive may

nevertheless not have seen that comet; for it kept somewhat uncomfortably

early morning hours, and I can well remember myself feeling rather more

resentment than gratitude to the man who waked me up about four o'clock to

see it. Many observations were of course made of this interesting visitor,

and what specially concerns us is that at the Cape of Good Hope some

enterprising photographers tried to photograph it. They tried in the first

instance with ordinary cameras, and soon found--what any astronomer could

have told them--that the movement of the earth, causing an apparent

movement of the comet and the stars in the opposite direction, frustrated

their efforts. The difficulties of obtaining pictures of moving objects

are familiar to all photographers. A "snap-shot" might have met the

difficulty, but the comet was scarcely bright enough to affect the plate

with a short exposure. Ultimately Dr. David Gill, the astronomer at the

Cape Observatory, invited one of the photographers to strap his camera to

one of the telescopes at the Observatory, a telescope which could be

carried round by clockwork in the usual way, so as to counteract the

earth's motion, and in effect to keep the comet steadily in view, as

though it were at rest. As a consequence, some very beautiful and

successful pictures of the comet were obtained, and on them a large number

of stars were also shown. They were, as I have said, not by any means the

first pictures of stars obtained by photography, but they represented in

facility and in success so great an advance upon what had been formerly

obtained that they attracted considerable attention. They were sent to

Europe and stimulated various workers to further experiments.

[Sidenote: The brothers Henry begin work.]

[Sidenote: Conference of 1887.]

The late Dr. Common in England, an amateur astronomer, began that

magnificent pioneer work in astronomical photography which soon brought

him the Gold Medal of the Royal Astronomical Society for his photographs

of nebulae. But the most important result for our purpose was produced in

France. There had been started many years before by the French astronomer

Chacornac a series of star maps round the Zodiac similar in intention to

the Berlin maps which figured in the history of the discovery of Neptune.

Chacornac died before his enterprise was very far advanced, and the work

was taken up by two brothers, Paul and Prosper Henry, who followed

Chacornac in adopting for the work the laborious method of eye

observation of each individual star. They proceeded patiently with the

work on these lines; but when they came to the region where the Zodiac is

crossed by the Milky Way, and the number of stars in a given area

increases enormously, they found the labour so great as to be practically

prohibitive, and were in doubt how to deal with the difficulty. It was at

this critical moment that these comet photographs, showing the stars so

beautifully, suggested the alternative of mapping the stars

photographically. They immediately set to work with a trial lens, and

obtained such encouraging results that they proceeded themselves to make a

larger lens of the same type; this again was satisfactory, and the idea

naturally arose of extending to the whole heavens the scheme which they

had hitherto intended only for the Zodiac, a mere belt of the heavens. But

this rendered the enterprise too large for a single observatory. It became

necessary to obtain the co-operation of other observatories, and with this

end in view an International Conference was summoned to meet in Paris in

1887 to consider the whole project. There were delegates from, if not all

nations, at any rate a considerable number:--

France 20

British Empire 8

Germany 6

Russia 3

Holland 3

U.S. America 3

Austria 2

Sweden 2

Denmark 2

Belgium 1

Italy 1

Spain 1

Switzerland 1

Portugal 1

Brazil 1

Argentine Republic 1

[Sidenote: Choice of instrument.]

[Sidenote: Expense of "doublet."]

[Sidenote: Advantages of reflector.]

[Sidenote: Refractor chosen.]

The Conference had a number of very important questions to discuss, for

knowledge of the photographic method and its possibilities was at that

time in its infancy. There was, for instance, the question whether all the

instruments need be of the same pattern, and if so what that pattern

should be. The first of these questions was settled in the affirmative, as

we might expect; in the interests of uniformity it was desirable that the

maps should be as nearly similar as possible. The second question was not

so easy; there were at least three different types of instruments which

might be used. First of all, there was the photographic lens, such as is

familiar to all who have used an ordinary camera, consisting of two lenses

with a space between; though since each of these lenses is itself made up

of two, we should more correctly say four lenses in all. It was with a

lens of this kind that the comet pictures had been taken at the Cape of

Good Hope, and it might seem the safest plan to adopt what had been shown

to be capable of such good work. But there was this difficulty; the

pictures of the comet were on a very small scale, and taken with a small

lens; a much larger lens was required for the scheme now under

contemplation, and when there are four separate lenses to be made, each

with two surfaces to polish, and each requiring a perfectly sound clear

piece of glass, it will be obvious that the difficulties of making a large

compound lens of this kind are much greater, and the expense much more

serious than in the case of a single lens, or even a pair. It was this

question of expense which had led the brothers Henry to experiment with a

different kind of instrument, in which only one pair of lenses was used

instead of two. Their instrument was, in fact, very similar to the

ordinary telescope, excepting that they were bound to make their lenses

somewhat different in shape in order to bring to focus the rays of light

suitable for photography, which are not the same as those suitable for eye

observation with the ordinary telescope. Dr. Common, again, had used a

third kind of instrument, mainly with the view of reducing the necessary

expense still further, or, perhaps, of increasing the size of the

instrument for the same expense. His telescope had no lens at all, but a

curved mirror instead, the mirror being made of glass silvered on the face

(not on the back as in the ordinary looking-glass). In this case there is

only one surface to polish instead of four, as in the Henrys' telescope,

or eight, as in the case of the photographic doublet; and, moreover, since

the rays of light are reflected from the surface of the glass, and do not

pass _through_ it at all, the internal structure of the glass is not so

strictly important as in the other cases. Hence the reflector is a very

cheap instrument, and it is, moreover, quite free from some difficulties

attached to the other instruments. No correction for rays of light of

different colours is required, since all rays of whatever colour come to

the same focus automatically. These advantages of the reflector were so

considerable as to almost outweigh one well-known disadvantage, which is,

however, not very easily expressed in words. The reflector might be

described as an instrument with a temper; sometimes it gives excellent

results, but at others _something_ seems to be wrong, though the worried

observer does not exactly know what. Long experience and patience are

requisite to humour the instrument and get the best results from it, and

it was felt that this uncertainty was sufficient to disqualify the

instrument for the serious piece of routine work contemplated in mapping

the heavens. Accordingly the handier and more amiable instrument with

which the brothers Henry had done such good work was selected as the

pattern to be adopted.

[Sidenote: Doublet would have been better.]

It is curious that at the Conference of 1887 nothing at all was said about

the type of instrument first mentioned (the "doublet lens"), although a

letter was written in its favour by Professor Pickering of Harvard College

Observatory. Since that time we have learnt much of its advantages, and it

is probable that if the Conference were to meet now they might arrive at a

different decision; but at that time they were, to put it briefly,

somewhat afraid of an instrument which seemed to promise, if anything, too

well, especially in one respect. With the reflector and the refractor it

had been found that the field of good images was strictly limited. The

Henrys' telescope would not photograph an area of the sky greater in

extent than 2 deg. in diameter at any one time, and the reflector was more

limited still; within this area the images of the stars were good, and it

had been found that their places were accurately represented. Now the

"doublet" seemed to be able to show much larger areas than this with

accuracy, but no one had been able to test the accuracy to see whether it

was sufficient for astronomical purposes; and although no such feeling was

openly expressed or is on record, I think there is no doubt that a feeling

existed of general mistrust of an instrument which seemed to offer such

specious promises. Whatever the reason, its claims were passed over in

silence at the Conference, and the safer line (as it was then thought) of

adopting as the type the Henrys' instrument, was taken.

[Sidenote: The eighteen observatories.]

This was perhaps the most important question settled at the Conference,

and the answers to many of the others naturally followed. The size of the

plates, for instance, was settled automatically. The question down to what

degree of faintness should stars be included, resolved itself into the

equivalent question, What should be the length of time during which the

plates were exposed? Then, again, the question, What observatories should

take part in the work? became simply this: What observatories could

afford to acquire the instruments of this new pattern and get other funds

for carrying out the work specified? It was ultimately found that eighteen

observatories were able to obtain the apparatus and funds, though

unfortunately three of the eighteen have since found it impossible to

proceed. The following is the original list, and in brackets are added the

names of three other observatories which in 1900 undertook to fill the

places of the defaulters.

OBSERVATORIES CO-OPERATING FOR THE ASTROGRAPHIC CHART.

+----------------------+------------+----------+

| Observatory. | Zones of | Number |

| |Declination.|of Plates.|

+----------------------+------------+----------+

|Greenwich |+90 deg. to +65 deg.| 1149 |

|Rome |+64 deg. " +55 deg.| 1140 |

|Catania |+54 deg. " +47 deg.| 1008 |

|Helsingfors |+46 deg. " +40 deg.| 1008 |

|Potsdam |+39 deg. " +32 deg.| 1232 |

|Oxford |+31 deg. " +25 deg.| 1180 |

|Paris |+24 deg. " +18 deg.| 1260 |

|Bordeaux |+17 deg. " +11 deg.| 1260 |

|Toulouse |+10 deg. " + 5 deg.| 1080 |

|Algiers |+ 4 deg. " - 2 deg.| 1260 |

|San Fernando |- 3 deg. " - 9 deg.| 1260 |

|Tacubaya |-10 deg. " -16 deg.| 1260 |

|Santiago (Monte Video)|-17 deg. " -23 deg.| 1260 |

|La Plata (Cordoba) |-24 deg. " -31 deg.| 1360 |

|Rio (Perth, Australia)|-32 deg. " -40 deg.| 1376 |

|Cape of Good Hope |-41 deg. " -51 deg.| 1512 |

|Sydney |-52 deg. " -64 deg.| 1400 |

|Melbourne |-65 deg. " -90 deg.| 1149 |

+----------------------+------------+----------+

[Sidenote: Sky covered twice.]

In the list is also shown the total number of plates that were to be taken

by each observatory. When once the size of the plates had been settled,

it was a straightforward matter to divide up the sky into the proper

number of regions necessary to cover it completely, not only without gaps

between the plates, but with actually a small overlap of contiguous

plates. And more than this, it was decided that the whole sky should be

completely covered _twice over_. It was conceivable that a question might

arise whether an apparent star image on a plate was, on the one hand, a

dust speck, or, on the other hand, a planet, or perhaps a variable or new

star. By taking two different plates at slightly different times,

questions of this kind could be settled; and to make the check more

independent it was decided that the plates should not be exactly repeated

on the same portion of sky, but that in the second series the centre of a

plate should occupy the point assigned to the corner of a plate in the

first series.

[Sidenote: Times of exposure.]

Then there came the important question of time of exposure, which involved

a long debate between those who desired the most modest programme possible

consistent with efficiency, and those enthusiasts who were anxious to

strain the programme to the utmost limits attainable. Ultimately it was

resolved to take two series of plates; one series of long exposure which

was set in the first instance at 10 minutes, then became 15, then 30, then

40, and has by some enterprising observers been extended to 1-1/2 hours;

the other a series of short exposures which have been generally fixed at

6 minutes. Thus instead of covering the sky twice, it was decided to cover

it in all four times, and the number of plates assigned to each

observatory in the above list must be regarded as doubled by this new

decision. And further still, on the series of short-exposure plates it was

decided to add to the exposure of six minutes another one of three

minutes, having slightly shifted the telescope between the two so that

they should not be superimposed; and later still, a third exposure of

twenty seconds was added to these. It would take too long to explain here

the reasons for these details, but it will be clear that the general

result of the discussion was to extend the original programme

considerably, and render the work even more laborious than it had appeared

at the outset.

[Sidenote: Measurement of plates.]

[Sidenote: The reseau.]

[Sidenote: The microscope.]

[Sidenote: Reversal of plates.]

[Sidenote: Personal equation.]

When all these plates have been taken, the work is by no means finished;

indeed, it is only just commencing. There remains the task of measuring

accurately on each of the short-exposure plates the positions of the stars

which it represents, numbering on the average some 300 or 400; so that for

instance at Oxford the total number of stars measured on the twelve

hundred plates is nearly half a million. These are not all separate stars;

for the sky is represented twice over, and there is also the slight

overlap of contiguous plates; but the number of actual separate stars

measured at this one observatory is not far short of a quarter of a

million, and it has taken nearly ten years to make the measurements, with

the help of three or four measurers trained for the purpose. To render the

measures easy, a network or reseau of cross lines is photographed on each

plate by artificial light after it has been exposed to the stars, so that

on development these cross lines and the stars both appear. We can see at

a glance the approximate position of a star by counting the number of the

space from left to right and from top to bottom in which it occurs; and we

can also estimate the fraction of a space in addition to the whole number;

but it is necessary for astronomical purposes to estimate this fraction

with the greatest exactness. The whole numbers are already given with

great exactness by the careful ruling of the cross lines, which can be

spaced with extraordinary perfection. To measure the fraction, we place

the plate under a microscope in the eye-piece of which there is a finally

divided cross scale; the centre of the cross is placed over a star image,

and then it is noted where the lines of the reseau cut the cross scale. In

this way the position of the image of a star is read off with accuracy,

and after a little practice with considerable rapidity. It has been found

at Oxford that under favourable conditions the places of nearly 200 stars

per hour can be recorded in this way by a single measurer, if he has some

one to write down for him the numbers he calls out. This is only one form

of measuring apparatus; there are others in which, instead of a scale in

the eye-piece, micrometer screws are used to measure the fractions; but

the general principle in all these instruments is much the same, and the

rate of work is not very different; while to the minor advantages and

disadvantages of the different types there seems no need here to refer.

One particular point, however, is worth noting. After a plate has been

measured, it is turned round completely, so that left is now right, and

top is now bottom, and the measurements are repeated. This repetition has

the advantage first of all of checking any mistakes. When a long piece of

measuring or numerical work of any kind is undertaken there are invariably

moments when the attention seems to wander, and some small error is the

result. But there are also certain errors of a systematic character

similar to those denoted by the term "personal equation," which has found

its way into other walks of life. In the operation of placing a cross

exactly over the image of a star, different observers would show slight

differences of habit; one might place it a little more to the right than

another. But when the plate is turned round the effect of this habit on

the measure is exactly reversed, and hence if we take the mean of the two

measures any personal habit of this kind is eliminated. It has been found

by experience that such personal habits are much smaller for measures of

this kind than for those to which we have long been accustomed in

observations made by eye on the stars themselves. The troubles from

"personal equation" have been much diminished by the photographic method,

and certain peculiarities of the former method have been clearly exhibited

by the comparison. For instance, it has gradually become clear that with

eye observations personal equation is not a constant quantity, but is

different for stars of different brightness. When observing the transit of

a bright star the observer apparently records an instant definitely

earlier than in recording the transit of a faint one; and this peculiarity

seems to be common to the large majority of observers, which is perhaps

the reason why it was not noticed earlier. But when positions of the stars

determined in this way are compared with their positions measured on the

photographic plates, the peculiarity is made clearly manifest. For

example, at Oxford, our first business after making measurements is to

compare them with visual observations on a limited number of the brighter

stars made at Cambridge about twenty years ago. (About 14,000 stars were

observed at Cambridge, and we are dealing with ten times that number.) The

comparison shows that the Cambridge observations are affected with the

following systematic errors:--

If stars of magnitude 10 are observed correctly,

then " " 9 " 0.10 secs. too early

" " 8 " 0.16 "

" " 7 " 0.19 "

" " 6 " 0.21 "

" " 5 " 0.23 "

[Sidenote: Main object of the work.]

This may serve as an illustration of various incidental results which are

already flowing from the enormous and laborious piece of work which, as

far as the University Observatory at Oxford is concerned, we have just

completed, though some of the other colleagues are not so far advanced.

But the main results will not appear just yet. The work must be repeated,

and the positions of the stars just obtained must be compared with those

which they will be found to occupy at some future date, in order to see

what kind of changes are going on in the heavens. Whether this future date

shall be one hundred years hence, or fifty, or ten, or whether we should

begin immediately to repeat what has been done, is a matter not yet

decided, and one which requires some little consideration.

[Sidenote: The concluding year.]

I have said perhaps enough to give you a general idea of the work on which

we have been engaged at Oxford for the last ten years. Ten years ago it

seemed to stretch out in front of us rather hopelessly; the pace we were

able to make seemed so slow in view of the distance to be covered. We felt

rather like the schoolboy who has just returned to school and sees the

next holidays as a very remote prospect, and we solaced ourselves much in

the same way as he does, by making a diagram representing the total number

of plates to be dealt with and crossing off each one as it was finished,

just as he sometimes crosses off the days still remaining between him and

the prospective holidays. It was pleasant to watch the growth of the

number of crosses on this diagram, and by the end of the year 1902 we had

the satisfaction of seeing very little blank space remaining. Now, up to

this point it had not much mattered whether any particular plate was

secured in any particular year, or in a subsequent year, so long as there

were always sufficient plates to keep us occupied in measuring them. But

it then became a matter of importance to secure each plate at the proper

time of year; for the sun, as we know, travels round the Zodiac among the

stars, obliterating by his radiance a large section of the sky for a

period of some months, and in this way a particular region of the heavens

is apt to "run into daylight," as the observatory phrase goes, and ceases

to be available for photography during several months, until the sun is

again far enough away to allow of the particular region being seen at

night.

[Sidenote: A disappointment.]

[Sidenote: A curious plate.]

[Sidenote: A strange object.]

[Sidenote: A new star?]

Roughly speaking then, if a plate which should be taken in February is not

secured in this month owing to bad weather, the proper time for taking it

will not occur again until the following February; and when there was a

fair prospect of finishing our work in 1903, it became important to secure

each plate at the proper time in that year. Hence we were making special

efforts to utilise to the full any fine night that Providence sent in our

way, and on such occasions it is clearly an economy, if not exactly to

"make hay while the sun shines," at any rate to take plates vigorously

while the sun is _not_ shining and the night is fine; leaving the

development of them until the daytime. There is, of course, the risk that

the whole night's work may in this way be lost owing to some fault in the

plates, which might have been detected if some of them were immediately

developed. Perhaps in the early days of our work it would have been

reckless or foolish to neglect this little precaution; but we had for

years been accustomed to rely upon the excellence of the plates without

finding our trust betrayed; and the sensitiveness of the plates had

increased rather than diminished as time went on. Hence it will be readily

understood that when one fatal morning we developed a series of some

thirty plates, and found that owing to some unexplained lack of

sensitiveness they were all unsuitable for our purpose, it came as a most

unwelcome and startling surprise. It was, of course, necessary to make

certain that there was no oversight, that the developer was not at fault,

and that the weather had not been treacherous. All such possibilities were

carefully considered before communication with the makers of the plates,

but it ultimately became clear that there had been some unfortunate

failure in sensitiveness, and that it would be necessary to repeat the

work with opportunities restricted by the intervening lapse of time.

However, disappointments from this or similar causes are not unknown in

astronomical work; and we set about this repetition with as little loss of

time and cheerfulness as was possible. Under the circumstances, however,

it seemed desirable to examine carefully whether anything could be saved

from the wreck--whether any of the plates could be admitted as _just_

coming up to the minimum requirements. And I devoted a morning to this

inquiry. In the course of it I came across one plate which certainly

seemed worth an inclusion among our series from the point of view of the

number of stars shown upon it. It seemed quite rich in stars, perhaps even

a little richer than might have been expected. On inquiry I was told that

this was not one of the originally condemned plates, but one which had

been taken since the failure in sensitiveness of the plates had been

detected; was from a new and specially sensitive batch with which the

courteous makers had supplied us; but though there were certainly a

sufficient number of stars upon the plate, owing to some unexplained cause

the telescope had been erroneously pointed, and the region taken did not

correspond to the region required. To investigate the cause of the

discrepancy I thereupon took down from our store of plates the other one

of the same region which had been rejected for insufficiency of stars, and

on comparing the two it was at once evident that there was a strange

object on the plate taken later of the two, a bright star or other

heavenly body, which was not on the former plate. I have explained that by

repeating the exposure more than once, it is easily possible to recognise

whether a mark upon the plate is really a celestial body or is an

accidental blot or dust speck, and there was no doubt that this was the

image of some strange celestial body. It might, of course, be a new

planet, or even an old one which had wandered into the region; but a few

measures soon showed that it was not in movement. The measures consisted

in comparing the separation of the three exposures with the separation of

the corresponding exposures of obvious stars, for the exposures were not,

of course, simultaneous, and if the body were a planet and had moved in

the interval between them, this would be made manifest on measuring the

separations. No such movements could be detected; and the possibilities

were thus restricted to two. So far as we knew the object was a star, but

might be either a star of the class known as _variable_ or of that known

as _new_. In the former case it would become bright and faint at more or

less regular intervals, and might possibly have been already catalogued;

for the number of these bodies already known amounts to some hundreds.

Search being made in the catalogues, no entry of it was found, though it

still might be one of this class which had hitherto escaped detection. Or

it might be a "new star," one of those curious bodies which blaze up quite

suddenly to brightness and then die away gradually until they become

practically invisible. The most famous perhaps of these is the star which

appeared in 1572, and was so carefully observed by Tycho Brahe; but such

apparitions are rare, and altogether we have not records as yet of a score

altogether; so that in this latter case the discovery would be of much

greater interest than in the former. In either event it was desirable to

inform other observers as soon as possible of the existence of a strange

body; already some time had elapsed since the plate had been taken, March

16th, for the examination of which I have spoken was not made until March

24th. Accordingly, a telegram was at once despatched to the Central Office

at Kiel, which undertakes to distribute such information all over the

world, and a few post-cards were sent to observers close at hand who might

be able to observe the star the same night. Certain observations with the

spectroscope soon made it clear that the object was really a "new star."

[Sidenote: The discovery accidental.]

[Sidenote: Mrs. Fleming's discoveries.]

This, therefore, is the discovery which we made at Oxford: as you will

see, in an entirely accidental manner, during the course of a piece of

work in which it was certainly never contemplated. Its purely accidental

nature is sufficiently illustrated by the fact that if the plates

originally supplied by the makers had been of the proper quality, the

plate which led to the discovery would never have been taken. If the

plates exposed in February had been satisfactory, we should have been

content, and should not have repeated the exposure on March 16th. Again I

can testify personally how purely accidental it was that the examination

was made on March 24th to see whether anything could be saved, as I have

said, from the wreck. The idea came casually into my mind as I was walking

through the room and saw the neat pile of rejected plates; and one may

fairly call it an accidental impulse. This new star is not, however, the

first of such objects to have been discovered "accidentally"; many of the

others were found just as much by chance, though a notable exception must

be made of those discovered at the Harvard Observatory, which are the

result of a deliberate search for such bodies by the careful examination

of photographic plates. Mrs. Fleming, who spends her life in such work,

has had the good fortune to detect no less than six of these wonderful

objects as the reward of her laborious scrutiny; and she is the _only_

person who has thus found new stars by photography until this accidental

discovery at Oxford. The following is a complete list of new stars

discovered to date:--

LIST OF NEW STARS.

+----------------------------------------------+

|Ref. No.| Constellation. | Year.| Discoverer. |

+----------------------------------------------+

| 1 | Cassiopeia | 1572 | Tycho Brahe.|

| 2 | Cygnus | 1600 | Janson. |

| 3 | Ophiuchus | 1604 | Kepler. |

| 4 | Vulpecula | 1670 | Anthelm. |

| 5 | Ophiuchus | 1848 | Hind. |

| 6 | Scorpio | 1860 | Auwers. |

| 7 | Corona Borealis| 1866 | Birmingham. |

| 8 | Cygnus | 1876 | Schmidt. |

| 9 | Andromeda | 1885 | Hartwig. |

| 10 | Perseus | 1887 | Fleming. |

| 11 | Auriga | 1891 | Anderson. |

| 12 | Norma | 1893 | Fleming. |

| 13 | Carina | 1895 | Fleming. |

| 14 | Centaurus | 1895 | Fleming. |

| 15 | Sagittarius | 1898 | Fleming. |

| 16 | Aquila | 1899 | Fleming. |

| 17 | Perseus | 1901 | Anderson. |

| 18 | Gemini | 1903 | At Oxford. |

+----------------------------------------------+

[Illustration:

MARCH 1, 1903 MARCH 14, 1903

VIII.--THE OXFORD NEW STAR.

A PAIR OF PHOTOGRAPHS TAKEN AT THE HARVARD COLLEGE OBSERVATORY BEFORE

AND AFTER ITS APPEARANCE

(_The arrow indicates the place of the new star. It will be seen that

the left-hand picture though it shews fainter stars than the other, has

not a trace of the new star._)]

[Sidenote: Dr. Anderson.]

[Sidenote: Nova Persei.]

Generally these stars have been noted by eye observation, as in the case

of the two found by Dr. Anderson of Edinburgh. In these cases also we may

say that deliberate search was rewarded; for Dr. Anderson is probably the

most assiduous "watcher of the skies" living, though he seldom uses a

telescope; sometimes he uses an opera-glass, but usually the naked eye. He

describes himself as an "Astrophil" rather than as an astronomer. "I love

the stars," he says; "and whenever they are shining, I must be looking."

And so on every fine night he stands or sits at his open study window

gazing at the heavens. I believe he was just about to leave them for his

bed, near 3 A.M. on the night of February 21, 1901, when, throwing a last

glance upward, he suddenly saw a brilliant star in the constellation

Perseus. His first feeling was actually one of disappointment, for he felt

sure that this object must have been there for some time past without his

knowing of it, and he grudged the time lost when he might have been

regarding it. More in a spirit of complaint than of inquiry, he made his

way to the Royal Observatory at Edinburgh next day to hear what they had

to say about it, though he found it difficult to approach the subject. He

first talked about the weather, and the crops, and similar topics of

general interest; and only after some time dared he venture a casual

reference to the "new portent in the heavens." Seeing his interlocutor

look somewhat blank, he ventured a little farther, and made a direct

reference to the new star in Perseus; and then found to his astonishment,

as also to his great delight, that he was the first to bring news of it.

The news was soon communicated to other observers; all the telescopes of

the world were soon trained upon it; and this wonderful "new star of the

new century" has taught us more of the nature of these extraordinary

bodies than all we knew before.

[Sidenote: Records previous to discovery.]

[Sidenote: Was Nova Geminorum previously shining faintly?]

[Sidenote: The suspicion negatived.]

Perhaps I may add a few remarks on one or two features of these bodies.

Firstly, let us note that Professor Pickering of Harvard is now able to

make a most important contribution to the _former_ history of these

objects--that is to say, their history preceding their actual detection.

We remember that, after Uranus had been discovered, it was found that

several observers had long before recorded its place unknowingly; and

similarly Professor Pickering and his staff have usually photographed

other new objects unknowingly. There are on the shelves at Harvard vast

stores of photographs, so many that they are unable to examine them when

they have been taken; but once any object of interest has been discovered,

it is easy to turn over the store and examine the particular plates which

may possibly show it at an earlier date. In this way it was found that Dr.

Anderson's new star had been visible only for a few days before its

discovery, there being no trace of it on earlier plates. Similarly, in

the case of the new star found at Oxford, plates taken on March 1st and

6th, fifteen days and ten days respectively before the discovery-plate of

March 16th, showed the star. But, in this particular instance, greater

interest attaches to two still earlier plates taken elsewhere, and with

exposures much longer than any available at Harvard. One had been obtained

at Heidelberg by Dr. Max Wolf, and another at the Yerkes Observatory of

Chicago University, by Mr. Parkhurst; and on both there appeared to be a

faint star of about the fourteenth or fifteenth magnitude, in the place

subsequently occupied by the Nova; and the question naturally arose, Was

this the object which ultimately blazed up and became the new star? To

settle this point, it was necessary to measure its position, with

reference to neighbouring stars, with extreme precision; and here it was

unfortunate that the photographs did not help us as much as they might,

for they were scarcely capable of being measured with the requisite

precision. The point was an important one, because if the identity of the

Nova with this faint star could be established, it would be the second

instance of the kind; but so far as they went, measurements of the

photographs were distinctly against the identity. Such was the conclusion

of Mr. Parkhurst from his photograph alone; and it was confirmed by

measures made at Oxford on copies of both plates, which were kindly sent

there for the purpose. The conclusion seemed to be that there was a faint

star _very near_, but _not at_, the place of the new star; and it was

therefore probable that, although this faint star was temporarily

invisible from the brightness of the adjacent Nova, as the latter became

fainter (in the way with which we have become familiar in the case of new

stars), it might be possible to see the two stars alongside each other.

This critical observation was ultimately made by the sharp eyes of

Professor Barnard, aided by the giant telescope of the Yerkes Observatory;

and it seems clear therefore that the object which blazed up to become the

Nova of 1903 could not have previously been so bright as a faint star of

the fourteenth magnitude. Although this is merely a negative conclusion,

it is an important one in the history of these bodies.

[Sidenote: Nebula round Nova Persei.]

[Sidenote: Its changes.]

[Sidenote: Due to travelling illumination.]

The second point to which I will draw your attention is from the history

of the other Nova just mentioned--Dr. Anderson's New Star of 1901. In this

instance it is not the history previous to discovery, but what followed

many months after discovery, that was of engrossing interest; and again

Yerkes Observatory, with its magnificent equipment, played an important

part in the drama. When, with its giant reflecting telescope, photographs

were taken of the region of Nova Persei after it had become comparatively

faint, it was found that there was an extraordinarily faint nebulosity

surrounding the star. Repeating the photographs at intervals, it was

found that this nebulosity was rapidly changing in shape. "Rapidly" is, of

course, a relative term, and a casual inspection of two of the photographs

might not convey any impression of rapidity; it is only when we come to

consider the enormous distance at which the movements, or apparent

movements, of the nebulae must be taking place that it becomes clear how

rapid the changes must be. It was not possible to determine this distance

with any exactness, but limits to it could be set, and it seemed probable

that the velocity of the movement was comparable with that of light. The

conclusion suggested itself that the velocity might actually be identical

with that of light, in which case what we saw was not the movement of

actual matter, but merely that of illumination, travelling from point to

point of matter already existing.

[Illustration:

SEPT. 20, 1901 NOV. 13, 1901

IX--NEBULOSITY ROUND NOVA PERSEI

(_From photographs taken at the Yerkes Observatory by G. W. Ritchey._)]

[Sidenote: When did it all happen?]

An analogy from the familiar case of sound may make clearer what is meant.

If a loud noise is made in a large hall, we hear echoes from the walls.

The sound travels with a velocity of about 1100 feet per second, reaches

the walls, is reflected back from them, and returns to us with the same

velocity. From the interval occupied in going and returning we could

calculate the distance of the walls. The velocity of light is so enormous

compared with that of sound that we are usually quite unable to observe

any similar phenomenon in the case of light. If we strike a match in the

largest hall, all parts of it are illuminated so immediately that we

cannot possibly realise that there was really an interval between the

striking of the match, the travelling of the light to the walls, and its

return to our eyes. The scale of our terrestrial phenomenon is far too

small to render this interval perceptible. But those who accept the theory

above mentioned regarding the appearances round Nova Persei (although

there are some who discredit it) believe that we have in this case an

illustration of just this phenomenon of light echoes, on a scale large

enough to be easily visible. They think that, surrounding the central star

which blazed up so brightly in February 1901, there was a vast dark

nebula, of which we had no previous knowledge, because it was not shining

with any light of its own. When the star blazed up, the illumination

travelled from point to point of this dark nebula and lighted it up; but

the size of the nebula was so vast that, although the light was travelling

with the enormous velocity of 200,000 miles per second, it was not until

months afterwards that it reached different portions of this nebula; and

we accordingly got news of the existence of this nebula some months after

the news reached us of the central conflagration, whatever it was. Remark

that all we can say is that the news of the nebula reached us _some months

later_ than that of the outburst. The actual date when either of the

actual things happened, we have as yet no means of knowing; it may have

been hundreds or even thousands of years ago that the conflagration

actually occurred of which we got news in February 1901, the light having

taken all that time to reach us from that distant part of space; and the

light reflected from the nebula was following it on its way to us all

these years at that same interval of a few months.

[Sidenote: An objection.]

Now, let me refer before leaving this point to the chief objection which

has been urged against this theory. It has been maintained that the

illumination would necessarily appear to travel outwards from the centre

with an approach to uniformity, whereas the observed rate of travel is not

uniform, and has been even towards the centre instead of away from it;

which would seem as though portions of the nebula more distant from the

centre were lighted up sooner than those closer to it. By a simple

illustration from our solar system, we shall see that these curious

anomalies may easily be explained. Let us consider for simplicity two

planets only, say the Earth and Saturn. We know that Saturn travels round

the sun in an orbit which is ten times larger than the orbit of the earth.

Suppose now that the sun were suddenly to be extinguished; light takes

about eight minutes to travel from the sun to the earth, and consequently

we should not get news of the extinction for some eight minutes; the sun

would appear to us to still go on shining for eight minutes after he had

really been extinguished. Saturn being about ten times as far away from

the sun, the news would take eighty minutes to reach Saturn; and from the

earth we should see Saturn shining more[3] than eighty minutes after the

sun had been extinguished, although we ourselves should have lost the

sun's light after eight minutes. I think we already begin to see

possibilities of curious anomalies; but they can be made clearer than

this. Instead of imagining an observer on the earth, let us suppose him

removed to a great distance away in the plane of the two orbits; and let

us suppose that the sun is now lighted up again as suddenly as the new

star blazed up in February 1901. Then such an observer would first see

this blaze in the centre; eight minutes afterwards the illumination would

reach the earth, a little speck of light near the sun would be

illuminated, just as we saw a portion of the dark nebula round Nova Persei

illuminated; eighty minutes later another speck, namely, Saturn, would

begin to shine. But now, would Saturn necessarily appear to the distant

observer to be farther away from the sun than the earth was? Looking at

the diagram, we can see that if Saturn were at S{1} then it would present

this natural appearance of being farther away from the sun than the earth;

but it might be at S{2} or S{3}, in which case it would seem to be nearer

the sun, and the illumination would seem to travel inwards towards the

central body instead of outwards. Without considering other cases in

detail, it will be tolerably clear that almost any anomalous appearance

might be explained by choosing a suitable arrangement of the nebulous

matter which we suppose lighted up by the explosion of Nova Persei.

Another objection urged against the theory I have sketched is that the

light reflected from such a nebula would be so feeble that it would not

affect our photographic plates. This depends upon various assumptions

which we have no time to notice here; but I think we may say that there is

certainly room for the acceptance of the theory.

[Illustration: FIG. 6.]

[Sidenote: Did the nebula cause the outburst?]

Now, if this dark nebula was previously existing in this way all round the

star which blazed up, the question naturally arises whether the nebula had

anything to do with the conflagration. Was there previously a star, either

so cold or so distant as not to be shining with appreciable light, which,

travelling through space, encountered this vast nebula, and by the

friction of the encounter was suddenly rendered so luminous as to outshine

a star of the first magnitude? The case of meteoric stones striking our

own atmosphere seems to suggest such a possibility. These little stones

are previously quite cold and invisible, and are travelling in some way

through space, many of them probably circling round our sun. If they

happen in their journey to encounter our earth, even the extremely tenuous

atmosphere, so thin that it will scarcely bend the rays of light

appreciably, even this is sufficient by its friction to raise the stones

to a white heat, so that they blaze up into the falling stars with which

we are familiar. This analogy is suggested, but we must be cautious in

accepting it; for we know so very little of the nature of nebulae such as

that of which we have been speaking. But in any case, a totally new series

of phenomena have been laid open to our study by those wonderful

photographs taken at the Yerkes Observatory and the Lick Observatory in

the few years which the present century has as yet run.

[Sidenote: Importance of new stars]

One thing is quite certain: we must lose no opportunity of studying such

stars as may appear, and no diligence spent in discovering them at the

earliest possible moment is thrown away. We have only known up to the

present, as already stated, less than a score of them, and of these many

have told us but little; partly because they were only discovered too late

(after they had become faint), and partly because the earlier ones could

not be observed with the spectroscope, which had not then been invented.

It seems clear that in the future we must not allow accident to play so

large a part in the discovery of these objects; more must be done in the

way of deliberate search. Although we know beforehand that this will

involve a vast amount of apparently useless labour, that months and years

must be spent in comparing photographic plates, or portions of the sky

itself, with one another without detecting anything remarkable, it will

not be the first time that years have been cheerfully spent in such

searches without result. We need only recall Hencke's fifteen years of

fruitless search, before finding a minor planet, to realise this fact.

[Sidenote: Superposition of plates.]

[Sidenote: The stereo-comparator.]

One thing of importance may be done; we may improve our methods of making

the search, so as to economise labour, and several successful attempts

have already been made in this direction. The simplest plan is to

superpose two photographs taken at different dates, so that the stars on

one lie very close to those on the other; then if an image is seen to be

unpaired we _may_ have found a new star, though of course the object may

be merely a planet or a variable. The superposition of the plates may be

either actual or virtual. A beautiful instrument has been devised on the

principle of the stereoscope for examining two plates placed side by side,

one with each eye. We know that in this way two photographs of the same

object from different points of view will appear to coalesce, and at the

same time to give an appearance of solidity to the object or landscape,

portions of which will seem to stand out in front of the background.

Applying this principle to two photographs of stars, what happens is this:

if the stars have all remained in the same positions exactly, the two

pictures will seem to us to coalesce, and the images all to lie on a flat

background; but if in the interval between the exposures of the two plates

one of the stars has appreciably moved or disappeared, it will seem, when

looked at with this instrument, to stand out in front of this background,

and is accordingly detected with comparatively little trouble. This new

instrument, to which the name Stereo-comparator has been given, promises

to be of immense value in dredging the sky for strange bodies in the

future. I am glad to say that a generous friend has kindly presented the

University Observatory at Oxford with one of these beautiful instruments,

which have been constructed by Messrs. Zeiss of Jena after the skilful

designs of Dr. Pulfrich. Whether we shall be able to repeat by deliberate

search the success which mere accident threw in our way remains to be

seen.

Astronomical Discovery · 第 4 / 6 章