The indifference of the Englishman is, considered pragmatically,
the same thing as tolerance. It bestows freedom and leaves every
man, within fairly wide limits, at ease to pursue his bent. There is
doubtless a relation between this English characteristic and the fact
that England, above any other country, is the home of the amateur.
In England, compared with the Continent, there are comparatively few
men whose dominant activity is their exclusive activity. There are
many fair specialists, but there are few specialised men. There are
countries such as France, where the _Gemeinplatz_ of intelligent
men is probably larger and more richly furnished than it is in England,
but it is comparatively difficult to meet the type of man who is an
eminent lawyer, an authority on Eastern poisons, and a really good
judge of horseflesh. Such manifestations of a national quality may
sometimes appear almost grotesque, but we believe that the quality
of which they are partial manifestations is the most splendid and
individual characteristic of the English intellect. It is not a
quality which produces many thrice-armed specialists, but it is a
quality which produces a great number of amateurs. The English amateur
in the arts belongs to a family well worth consideration, but our more
immediate concern is with the amateur in science.
There was a time when the scientific amateur abounded in England.
In the time of Huxley and his contemporaries, as we see from their
letters, amateur zoologists, botanists, and, more rarely, amateur
mathematicians and physicists, were scattered all over England and
occasionally had something of interest, or even of value, to report. In
the days when R. A. Proctor edited _Knowledge_ the country seemed
to be full of reverend gentlemen who owned small observatories and
home-made telescopes. This large and interesting family seems now to
be making towards extinction. The increasing complexity of the various
sciences, to say nothing of the variety and cost of modern apparatus,
has made anything but trifling discoveries difficult to the verge of
impossibility for an amateur equipment. Perhaps the amateur who has
suffered least from these changes is the amateur astronomer. There is
good reason for supposing that his numbers have increased. In this
branch of science the English amateur has always been particularly
strong, and this cannot be attributed to the official encouragement
accorded astronomy in this country. There are many more amateur
astronomers in England than in France, although astronomy counts for
more in France than in England, and although, since Newton, France has
played the leading rôle in the history of astronomy.
The popularity of amateur astronomy in England certainly needs
explanation, for it is a pursuit attended by many disappointments in
so capricious a climate, and Englishmen have few opportunities of
seeing a really impressive display of stars. Perhaps the Englishman
is sufficient of a Northerner to be profoundly attracted by the
sheer vastness and the mystery of stellar phenomena. Then the actual
telescope and its accessories probably appeal to the English love of
mechanism. There are few instruments more delightful in themselves
than a properly mounted telescope of moderate aperture. Its adjustment
affords a pleasure as refined as that given by operating a small hand
printing-press, and superior to that of mending a bicycle. Every
telescope has its distinctive “performance,” and one can grow as
enthusiastically partisan about makes of telescopes as one can about
makes of motor-cars or pianos. Whether or not these be the reasons
it is certain that astronomy is the science which most attracts the
English amateur. The existence of the British Astronomical Association,
an amateur society with some hundreds of members, is sufficient proof
of this. It would perhaps be difficult to justify by the results the
amount of time and money spent in amateur stargazing, if one estimated
results from the severe standpoint of the professional astronomer. But
if one adopts a broader outlook and estimates the results in rather
more human terms, then there is probably no pursuit which affords more
innocent pleasure and provides, in itself, a more liberal education.
It is said that the vast photographic telescopes of the present day
have rendered the small instrument valueless. Even Mr. Hinks, in his
excellent volume _Astronomy_ in the Home University Library, says
that the would-be amateur would do well to hesitate before buying a
small telescope, and that a measuring machine, to measure photographs
taken by big instruments, would be a far better investment. This is the
severely professional point of view; it is to mistake the psychology
of the amateur observer. The amateur likes to think that he might some
day make a discovery, but that is only by the way. His real joy is in
doing precisely what the professional cannot do, and that is to enjoy
the _spectacle_ of the heavens. The ordinary run of work in a
big observatory is not much more exciting than work in an ordinary
business office. To sit up half the night measuring photographs would
conceivably add to scientific knowledge, and there are doubtless stern
men who are willing to do it. These, like computers, are the martyrs
of science. The average amateur will continue to prefer his present
pleasant, if ineffectual, method of adding to scientific knowledge. It
is to be feared that, as one result of the war, this amiable occupation
will decline. A little before the war the amateur could purchase a
modest but thoroughly good, instrument at a reasonable price. The same
instrument to-day would cost at least twice as much, and there would
probably be an interval of several months between the order and the
delivery. One large firm of optical instrument makers announces that it
is not now making astronomical telescopes at all. At the present time,
when astronomy is entering on perhaps the most pregnant phase in its
history, and when men are more than ever attracted by anything which
promises escape from the fret of daily life, this lessening of the
opportunities for acquaintance with the most serene of the sciences is
a minor calamity. The decline in amateur astronomy will probably have
no appreciable reaction on the progress of science, but it will lead to
a real, if small decrease in the intellectual pleasures and spiritual
wealth of the nation.