DIFFERENT KINDS OF SUNS.
Various in kind, various in size, various in color, various in
position, various in motion, are the myriad suns scattered through
space. So far are they from being formed on the same plan, turned out
on the same model, that it may with reason be doubted whether any two
stars could be found exactly alike. Why should we expect to find them
so? No two oak-leaves, no two elm-leaves, precisely alike, are to be
found upon earth.
So some stars are large, some are small. Some are rapid in movement,
some are slow. Some are yellow, some white, some red, green, blue,
purple, or gray. Some are single stars; others are arranged in pairs,
trios, quartets, or groups. Some appear only for a time, and then
disappear altogether. Others are changeful, with a light that regularly
waxes and wanes in brightness.
We have now to give a little time and thought to variable stars and
temporary stars; afterwards to double stars and colored stars. There
are many stars which pass through gradual and steady changes--first
brightening, then lessening in light, then brightening again. One such
star is to be seen in the constellation of the Whale. It is named
“Mira,” or “The Marvelous,” and the time in which its changes take
place extends to eleven months. For about one fortnight it is a star
of the second magnitude. Through three months it grows slowly more and
more dim, till it becomes invisible, not only to the naked eye, but
through ordinary telescopes. About five months it remains thus. Then
again, during three months, it grows brighter and brighter, till it is
once more a second-magnitude star, and after a fortnight’s pause begins
anew to fade.
At its maximum, this star is yellow; when it is faint, it is reddish.
Spectrum analysis shows in it a striped spectrum of the third type,
and when its light diminishes it preserves all the principal bright
rays reduced to very fine threads. The most plausible explanation
of this variability is to suppose that it periodically emits vapors
similar to the eruptions observed in the solar photosphere. Instead
of its periodicity being like that of the sun--eleven years and
hardly perceptible--this variation of the sun of the Whale is three
hundred and thirty-one days and very considerable. It is subject to
oscillations and irregularities similar to those which we remark in our
sun. Of all the variable stars, this is the easiest to observe, and it
has been known for nearly three hundred years.
The most celebrated of all the variable stars is that known as Algol,
in the constellation of Perseus. This star is very conveniently placed
for observation, being visible every night in the Northern Hemisphere,
and its wondrous and regular changes can be observed without any
telescopic aid. Every one who desires to become acquainted with the
great truths of astronomy should be able to recognize this star, and
should have also followed it during one of its periods of change.
Algol is usually a star of the second magnitude; but in a period
between two or three days--or, more accurately, in an interval of two
days, twenty hours, forty-eight minutes, and fifty-five seconds--its
brilliancy goes through a most remarkable cycle of variations. The
series commences with a gradual decline of the star’s brightness,
which, in the course of three or four hours, falls from the second
magnitude down to the fourth. At this lowest stage of brightness, Algol
remains for about twenty minutes, and then begins to increase, until
in three or four hours it regains the second magnitude, at which it
continues for about two days, thirteen hours, when the same series
commences anew. It seems that the period required by Algol to go
through its changes is itself subject to a slow, but certain variation.
Another variable star, Betelgeuse in Orion, undergoes its variations in
about two hundred days; while yet another, Delta Cephei, takes only six
days. Our own sun is believed to be in some slight degree a variable
star, passing through his changes in eleven years. When the sun-spots
are most numerous, he would probably appear, if seen from a great
distance, more dim than when there are few or none of them.
Sometimes a star is not merely variable. Stars have appeared for a
brief space, and then utterly vanished. They are then named Temporary
Stars. Whether such a star really does go out of existence, or whether
it merely becomes too dim to be seen; whether the furnace-fires are
extinguished, and the glowing sun changes into a dark body, or whether
it merely turns a dark side towards us for a very long period,--these
are questions we can not answer.
An extraordinary specimen of a temporary star was seen in 1572. It was
not a comet, for it had no coma or tail, and it never moved from its
place. The brightness of the star was so great as to surpass Sirius and
Jupiter, and to equal Venus at her greatest brilliancy. Nay, it must
have surpassed even Venus, for it was plainly visible at midday in a
clear sky. Gradually the light faded and grew more dim, till at length
it entirely disappeared. As it lessened in brilliancy, it also changed
in color, passing from white to yellow, and from yellow to red. This
curiously agrees with the three tints of the first, second, and fourth
orders of suns, as lately classified.
This star was observed by Tycho Brahe, who gives the following curious
account:
“One evening, when I was contemplating, as usual, the celestial
vault, whose aspect was so familiar to me, I saw, with inexpressible
astonishment, near the zenith, in Cassiopeia, a radiant star of
extraordinary magnitude. Struck with surprise, I could hardly believe
my eyes. To convince myself that it was not an illusion, and to obtain
the testimony of other persons, I called out the workmen employed in my
laboratory, and asked them, as well as all passers-by, if they could
see, as I did, the star, which had appeared all at once. I learned
later on that in Germany carriers and other people had anticipated the
astronomers in regard to a great apparition in the sky, which gave
occasion to renew the usual railleries against men of science (as with
comets whose coming had not been predicted).
“The new star was destitute of a tail; no nebulosity surrounded it;
it resembled in every way other stars of the first magnitude. Its
brightness exceeded that of Sirius, of Lyra, and of Jupiter. It could
only be compared with that of Venus when it is at its nearest possible
to the earth. Persons gifted with good sight could distinguish this
star in daylight, even at noonday, when the sky was clear. At night,
with a cloudy sky, when other stars were veiled, the new star often
remained visible through tolerably thick clouds. The distance of
this star from the other stars of Cassiopeia, which I measured the
following year with the greatest care, has convinced me of its complete
immobility. From the month of December, 1572, its brightness began to
diminish; it was then equal to Jupiter. In January, 1573, it became
less brilliant than Jupiter; in February and March, equal to stars of
the first order; in April and May, of the brightness of stars of the
second order. The passage from the fifth to the sixth magnitude took
place between December, 1573, and February, 1574. The following month
the new star disappeared without leaving a trace visible to the naked
eye, having shone for seventeen months.”
These circumstantial details permit us to imagine the influence
which such a phenomenon must have exercised on the minds of men. Few
historical events have caused so much excitement as this mysterious
envoy of the sky. It first appeared on November 11, 1572. General
uneasiness, popular superstition, the fear of comets, the dread of the
end of the world, long since announced by the astrologers, were an
excellent setting for such an apparition. It was soon announced that
the new star was the same which had led the wise men to Bethlehem,
and that its arrival foretold the return of the Messiah and the last
judgment. For the hundredth time, perhaps, this sort of prognostication
was recognized as absurd. It did not, however, prevent the astrologers
from being believed, twelve years later, when they announced anew the
end of the world for the year 1588; these predictions exercised the
same influence on the public mind.
After the star of 1572 the most celebrated is that which appeared
in October, 1604, in Serpentarius, and which was observed by two
illustrious astronomers, Kepler and Galileo. As happened with the
preceding, its light imperceptibly faded. It remained visible for
fifteen months, and disappeared without leaving any traces. In 1670
another temporary star, blazing out in the head of the Fox (Vulpecula),
showed the singular phenomenon of being extinguished and reviving
several times before it completely vanished. We know of _twenty-four_
stars which, during the last two thousand years, have presented a
sudden increase of light; have been visible to the naked eye, often
brilliant; and have then again become invisible. The last apparitions
of this kind happened before our eyes in 1866, 1876, 1885, and 1892,
and spectrum analysis enabled us to ascertain, as we have seen, that
they were due to veritable combustion--a fire caused by a tremendous
expansion of incandescent hydrogen, and to phenomena analogous to
those which take place in the solar photosphere. A rather curious fact
about these stars is, that they do not blaze out indifferently in any
point of the sky, but in rather restricted regions, chiefly in the
neighborhood of the Milky Way.
Many other instances have been known, beside those referred to, of
variable and temporary stars.
There are two distinct kinds of double-stars. First, we have those
which merely seem to be double, because one lies almost directly behind
the other, though widely distant from it. Just as a church-tower,
two miles off, may appear to stand close side by side with another
church-tower two and a half miles off, though they are in fact
separated. Secondly, we have the real systems of two suns belonging to
one another; the smaller moving round the larger, or more correctly
both traveling round one central point called the center of gravity,
the smaller having the quicker rate of motion.
[Illustration: LYRA]
Alpha Centauri and 61 Cygni have been already described, as examples of
true double-stars. In the constellation Lyra a marked instance is to be
seen. The brightest star in the Lyre is Vega, and near Vega shines a
tiny star, which to people with particularly clear sight has sometimes
rather a longish look. If you examine this star through an opera-glass,
you find it to consist of two separate stars. But if you get a more
powerful telescope, and look again, you will find that _each star_ of
the couple actually consists of _two_ stars. The four are not at equal
distances. Two points of light seemingly close together are parted by
a wide gap from two other points equally close together. These four
stars are believed to have a double motion. Each of the separate pairs
revolves by itself, the two suns traveling round one center; and in
addition to this the two _couples_ of suns probably perform a long
journey round another center common to them all.
Many thousands of double stars have been discovered; and a large number
of these are now known to be, not merely two distinct suns lying in the
same line of sight, but two brother-suns, each probably the center of
his own system of planets.
We have not only to consider the number of suns, though of simple
numbers more yet remains to be said. Attention must also be given to
the varying colors of different stars; for all suns in the universe are
not made after the model of our sun. All suns are not yellow.
So far as single stars are concerned, colors seem rather limited. White
stars, golden or orange stars, ruby-red stars, placed alone, are often
seen; but blue stars, green stars, gray stars, silver stars, purple
stars, are seldom if ever visible to the naked eye, or known to exist
as single stars.
Take a powerful telescope and examine star-couples, and a very
different result you will find. Not white, yellow, and red alone, but
blue, purple, gray, green, fawn, buff, silvery white, and coppery hues,
will delight you in turn. As a rule, when the two stars of a couple
are alike in color, they are either white, or yellow, or red. Also in
the case of double-stars of different colors, the larger of the two is
almost invariably white or some shade of yellow or red.
There are, however, exceptions to all such rules. Blue stars are almost
never seen alone, and as one of a pair the blue star is generally, if
not invariably, the smaller. But instances are known of double-stars,
both of which are blue; and one group in the southern heavens is
entirely made up of a multitude of bluish suns.
It is when we come to consider double-stars of two colors that the
most striking effects are found. Now and then the two suns are nearly
the same in size; but more commonly one is a good deal larger than the
other. This is known by the brighter light of the largest, and the more
rapid movements of the smallest. The lesser star is often only small by
comparison, and may be in reality a very goodly and brilliant sun.
Among nearly six hundred “doubles” examined by one astronomer, there
were three hundred and seventy-five in which the two stars were of one
color, generally white, yellow, orange, or red. The rest were different
in tint, the difference between the two suns in about one hundred and
twenty cases being very marked.
For instance, a red “primary,” as the larger star is called, will
be seen with a small green satellite; or a white primary will have
a little brother-sun of purple, or of dark ruby, or of light red.
Sometimes the larger sun is orange, the companion being purple or
dark blue. Again, the chief star will be red with a blue satellite,
or yellow with a green satellite, or orange with an emerald satellite,
or golden with a reddish-green satellite. We hear of golden and lilac
couples, of cream and violet pairs, of white and green companions. But,
indeed, the variety is almost endless.
[Illustration: CONSTELLATIONS IN THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE.]
There may be worlds circling around these suns--worlds, perhaps, with
living creatures on them. We know little about how such systems of suns
and worlds may be arranged. Probably each sun would have his own set
of planets, and both suns with their planets would travel round one
central point. Perhaps, where the second sun is much the smallest, it
might occasionally be like a big blazing satellite among the planets--a
kind of burning Jupiter-sun to the chief sun.
Among colored stars, single and double, a few may be mentioned by name
as examples. Sirius, as already observed, is a brilliant white sun; and
brilliant white also are Vega, Altair, Regulus, Spica, and many others.
Capella, Procyon, the Pole-star, and our own sun, are examples of
yellow stars. Aldebaran, Betelgeuse, and Pollux, are ruby-red. Antares
is a red star, with a greenish “scintillation” or change of hue in its
twinkling. A tiny green sun belonging to this great and brilliant red
sun has been discovered. Some have called Antares “the Sirius of Red
Suns.”
It is during the fine nights of winter that the constellation Taurus,
or The Bull, with the star Aldebaran marking its eye, shines in
the evening above our heads. No other season is so magnificently
constellated as the months of winter. While nature deprives us of
certain enjoyments in one way, it offers us in exchange others no less
precious. The marvels of the heavens present themselves from Taurus and
Orion in the east to Virgo and Boötes on the west. Of eighteen stars
of the first magnitude, which are counted in the whole extent of the
firmament, a dozen are visible from nine o’clock to midnight, not to
mention some fine stars of the second magnitude, remarkable nebulæ,
and celestial objects well worthy of the attention of mortals. It is
thus that nature establishes an harmonious compensation, and while it
darkens our short and frosty days of winter, it gives us long nights
enriched with the most opulent creations of the sky. The constellation
of Orion is not only the richest in brilliant stars, but it conceals
for the initiated treasures which no other is known to afford. We might
almost call it the California of the sky.
To the southeast of Orion, on the line of the Three Kings, shines
the most magnificent of all the stars, _Sirius_, or _Alpha_ of the
constellation of the Great Dog. This constellation rises in the evening
at the end of November, passes the meridian at midnight at the end of
January, and sets at the end of March. It played the greatest part in
Egyptian astronomy, for it regulated the ancient calendar. It was the
famous Dog Star; it predicted the inundation of the Nile, the summer
solstice, great heats and fevers; but the precession of the equinoxes
has in three thousand years moved back the time of its appearance by
a month and a half; and now this fine star announces nothing, either
to the Egyptians who are dead or to their successors. But we shall see
farther on what it teaches us of the grandeur of the sidereal universe.
The _Little Dog_, or Procyon, is found above the Great Dog and below
the Twins (Castor and Pollux), to the east of Orion. With the exception
of Alpha Procyon, no brilliant star distinguishes it.
The two double-stars, 61 Cygni and Alpha Centauri, are formed each of
two orange suns.
In the Southern Cross there is a wonderful group of stars, consisting
of about one hundred and ten suns, nearly all invisible to the naked
eye. Among the principal stars of this group, which Sir John Herschel
described as being, when viewed through a powerful telescope, like “a
casket of variously-colored precious stones,” are two red stars, two
bright green, three pale green, and one of a greenish blue.
The splendor of these natural illuminations can hardly be conceived
by our terrestrial imagination. The tints which we admire in these
stars from here can give but a distant idea of the real value of their
colors. Already, in passing from our foggy latitudes to the limpid
regions of the tropics, the colors of the stars are accentuated, and
the sky becomes a veritable casket of brilliant gems. What would it be
if we could transport ourselves beyond the limits of our atmosphere?
Seen from the moon, these colors would be splendid. Antares, Alpha
Herculis, Pollux, Aldebaran, Betelgeuse, Mars, shine like rubies; the
Polar Star, Capella, Castor, Arcturus, Procyon, are veritable celestial
topazes; while Sirius, Vega, and Altair are diamonds, eclipsing all
by their dazzling whiteness. How would it be if we could approach the
stars so as to perceive their luminous disks, instead of merely seeing
brilliant points destitute of all diameter?
Blue days, violet days, dazzling red days, livid green days! Could the
imagination of poets, could the caprice of painters, picture on the
palette of fancy a world of light more astounding than this? Could the
mad hand of the chimera, throwing on the receptive canvas the strange
lights of its fancy, erect by chance a more astonishing edifice?