"And then, to my sorrow, I saw almost every room turned into a

workshop. A cabinet-maker making a tube and stands of all

descriptions in a handsomely furnished drawing-room; Alex. putting

up a huge turning-machine (which he had brought in the autumn from

Bristol, where he used to spend the summer) in a bed-room, for

turning patterns, grinding glasses, and turning eye-pieces, &c. At

the same time music durst not lie entirely dormant during the

summer, and my brother had frequent rehearsals at home."

Finally, in 1774, at the age of thirty-six, he had made himself a

5-1/2-foot telescope, and began to view the heavens. So attached was he

to the instrument that he would run from the concert-room between the

parts, and take a look at the stars.

He soon began another telescope, and then another. He must have made

some dozen different telescopes, always trying to get them bigger and

bigger; at last he got a 7-foot and then a 10-foot instrument, and began

a systematic survey of the heavens; he also began to communicate his

results to the Royal Society.

He now took a larger house, with more room for workshops, and a grass

plot for a 20-foot telescope, and still he went on grinding

mirrors--literally hundreds of them.

I read another extract from the diary of his sister, who waited on him

and obeyed him like a spaniel:--

"My time was taken up with copying music and practising, besides

attendance on my brother when polishing, since by way of keeping

him alive I was constantly obliged to feed him by putting the

victuals by bits into his mouth. This was once the case when, in

order to finish a 7-foot mirror, he had not taken his hands from it

for sixteen hours together. In general he was never unemployed at

meals, but was always at those times contriving or making drawings

of whatever came in his mind. Generally I was obliged to read to

him whilst he was at the turning-lathe, or polishing mirrors--_Don

Quixote_, _Arabian Nights' Entertainments_, the novels of Sterne,

Fielding, &c.; serving tea and supper without interrupting the work

with which he was engaged, ... and sometimes lending a hand. I

became, in time, as useful a member of the workshop as a boy might

be to his master in the first year of his apprenticeship.... But as

I was to take a part the next year in the oratorios, I had, for a

whole twelvemonth, two lessons per week from Miss Fleming, the

celebrated dancing-mistress, to drill me for a gentlewoman (God

knows how she succeeded). So we lived on without interruption. My

brother Alex. was absent from Bath for some months every summer,

but when at home he took much pleasure in executing some turning or

clockmaker's work for his brother."

The music, and the astronomy, and the making of telescopes, all went on

together, each at high pressure, and enough done in each to satisfy any

ordinary activity. But the Herschels knew no rest. Grinding mirrors by

day, concerts and oratorios in the evening, star-gazing at night. It is

strange his health could stand it.

The star-gazing, moreover, was no _dilettante_ work; it was based on a

serious system--a well thought out plan of observation. It was nothing

less than this--to pass the whole heavens steadily and in order through

the telescope, noting and describing and recording every object that

should be visible, whether previously known or unknown. The operation is

called sweeping; but it is not a rapid passage from one object to

another, as the term might suggest; it is a most tedious business, and

consists in following with the telescope a certain field of view for

some minutes, so as to be sure that nothing is missed, then shifting it

to the next overlapping field, and watching again. And whatever object

appears must be scrutinized anxiously to see what there is peculiar

about it. If a star, it may be double, or it may be coloured, or it may

be nebulous; or again it may be variable, and so its brightness must be

estimated in order to compare with a subsequent observation.

Four distinct times in his life did Herschel thus pass the whole visible

heavens under review; and each survey occupied him several years. He

discovered double stars, variable stars, nebulae, and comets; and Mr.

William Herschel, of Bath, the amateur astronomer, was gradually

emerging from his obscurity, and becoming a known man.

Tuesday, the 13th of March, 1781, is a date memorable in the annals of

astronomy. "On this night," he writes to the Royal Society, "in

examining the small stars near _[eta]_ Geminorum, I perceived one

visibly larger than the rest. Struck with its uncommon appearance, I

compared it to _[eta]_ Geminorum and another star, and finding it so

much larger than either, I suspected it to be a comet."

The "comet" was immediately observed by professional astronomers, and

its orbit was computed by some of them. It was thus found to move in

nearly a circle instead of an elongated ellipse, and to be nearly twice

as far from the sun as Saturn. It was no comet, it was a new planet;

more than 100 times as big as the earth, and nearly twice as far away as

Saturn. It was presently christened "Uranus."

This was a most striking discovery, and the news sped over Europe. To

understand the interest it excited we must remember that such a

discovery was unique. Since the most ancient times of which men had any

knowledge, the planets Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, had been

known, and there had been no addition to their number. Galileo and

others had discovered satellites indeed, but a new primary planet was an

entire and utterly unsuspected novelty.

One of the most immediate consequences of the event was the discovery of

Herschel himself. The Royal Society made him a Fellow the same year. The

University of Oxford dubbed him a doctor; and the King sent for him to

bring his telescope and show it at Court. So to London and Windsor he

went, taking with him his best telescope. Maskelyne, the then

Astronomer-Royal, compared it with the National one at Greenwich, and

found Herschel's home-made instrument far the better of the two. He had

a stand made after Herschel's pattern, but was so disgusted with his own

instrument now that he scarcely thought it worthy of the stand when it

was made. At Windsor, George III. was very civil, and Mr. Herschel was

in great request to show the ladies of the Court Saturn and other

objects of interest. Mr. Herschel exhibited a piece of worldly wisdom

under these circumstances, that recalls faintly the behaviour of Tycho

Brahe under similar circumstances. The evening when the exhibition was

to take place threatened to become cloudy and wet, so Herschel rigged up

an artificial Saturn, constructed of card and tissue paper, with a lamp

behind it, in the distant wall of a garden; and, when the time came, his

new titled friends were regaled with a view of this imitation Saturn

through the telescope--the real one not being visible. They went away

much pleased.

He stayed hovering between Windsor and Greenwich, and uncertain what was

to be the outcome of all this regal patronizing. He writes to his sister

that he would much rather be back grinding mirrors at Bath. And she

writes begging him to come, for his musical pupils were getting

impatient. They had to get the better of their impatience, however, for

the King ultimately appointed him astronomer or rather telescope-maker

to himself, and so Caroline and the whole household were sent for, and

established in a small house at Datchet.

From being a star-gazing musician, Herschel thus became a practical

astronomer. Henceforth he lived in his observatory; only on wet and

moonlight nights could he be torn away from it. The day-time he devoted

to making his long-contemplated 20-foot telescope.

Not yet, however, were all their difficulties removed. The house at

Datchet was a tumble-down barn of a place, chosen rather as a workshop

and observatory than as a dwelling-house. And the salary allowed him by

George III. was scarcely a princely one. It was, as a matter of fact,

L200 a year. The idea was that he would earn his living by making

telescopes, and so indeed he did. He made altogether some hundreds.

Among others, four for the King. But this eternal making of telescopes

for other people to use or play with was a weariness to the flesh. What

he wanted was to observe, observe, observe.

Sir William Watson, an old friend of his, and of some influence at

Court, expressed his mind pretty plainly concerning Herschel's position;

and as soon as the King got to understand that there was anything the

matter, he immediately offered L2,000 for a gigantic telescope to be

made for Herschel's own use. Nothing better did he want in life. The

whole army of carpenters and craftsmen resident in Datchet were pressed

into the service. Furnaces for the speculum metal were built, stands

erected, and the 40-foot telescope fairly begun. It cost L4,000 before

it was finished, but the King paid the whole.

[Illustration: FIG. 83.--Herschel's 40-foot telescope.]

With it he discovered two more satellites to Saturn (five hitherto had

been known), and two moons to his own planet Uranus. These two are now

known as Oberon and Titania. They were not seen again till some forty

years after, when his son, Sir John Herschel, reobserved them. And in

1847, Mr. Lassell, at his house, "Starfield," near Liverpool, discovered

two more, called Ariel and Umbriel, making the number four, as now

known. Mr. Lassell also discovered, with a telescope of his own making,

an eighth satellite of Saturn--Hyperion--and a satellite to Neptune.

A letter from a foreign astronomer about this period describes Herschel

and his sister's method of work:--

"I spent the night of the 6th of January at Herschel's, in Datchet,

near Windsor, and had the good luck to hit on a fine evening. He

has his 20-foot Newtonian telescope in the open air, and mounted in

his garden very simply and conveniently. It is moved by an

assistant, who stands below it.... Near the instrument is a clock

regulated to sidereal time.... In the room near it sits Herschel's

sister, and she has Flamsteed's atlas open before her. As he gives

her the word, she writes down the declination and right ascension,

and the other circumstances of the observation. In this way

Herschel examines the whole sky without omitting the least part. He

commonly observes with a magnifying power of one hundred and fifty,

and is sure that after four or five years he will have passed in

review every object above our horizon. He showed me the book in

which his observations up to this time are written, and I am

astonished at the great number of them. Each sweep covers 2 deg. 15' in

declination, and he lets each star pass at least three times

through the field of his telescope, so that it is impossible that

anything can escape him. He has already found about 900 double

stars, and almost as many nebulae. I went to bed about one o'clock,

and up to that time he had found that night four or five new

nebulae. The thermometer in the garden stood at 13 deg. Fahrenheit; but,

in spite of this, Herschel observes the whole night through, except

that he stops every three or four hours and goes into the room for

a few moments. For some years Herschel has observed the heavens

every hour when the weather is clear, and this always in the open

air, because he says that the telescope only performs well when it

is at the same temperature as the air. He protects himself against

the weather by putting on more clothing. He has an excellent

constitution, and thinks about nothing else in the world but the

celestial bodies. He has promised me in the most cordial way,

entirely in the service of astronomy, and without thinking of his

own interest, to see to the telescopes I have ordered for European

observatories, and he will himself attend to the preparation of the

mirrors."

[Illustration: _Painted by Abbott._

_Engraved by Ryder._

FIG. 84.--WILLIAM HERSCHEL.

_From an Original Picture in the Possession of_ WM. WATSON, M.D.,

F.R.S.]

In 1783, Herschel married an estimable lady who sympathized with his

pursuits. She was the only daughter of a City magnate, so his pecuniary

difficulties, such as they were (they were never very troublesome to

him), came to an end. They moved now into a more commodious house at

Slough. Their one son, afterwards the famous Sir John Herschel, was

born some nine years later. But the marriage was rather a blow to his

devoted sister: henceforth she lived in lodgings, and went over at

night-time to help him observe. For it must be remarked that this family

literally turned night into day. Whatever sleep they got was in the

day-time. Every fine night without exception was spent in observing: and

the quite incredible fierceness of the pursuit is illustrated, as

strongly as it can be, by the following sentence out of Caroline's

diary, at the time of the move from Datchet to Slough: "The last night

at Datchet was spent in sweeping till daylight, and by the next evening

the telescope stood ready for observation at Slough."

Caroline was now often allowed to sweep with a small telescope on her

own account. In this way she picked up a good many nebulae in the course

of her life, and eight comets, four of which were quite new, and one of

which, known since as Encke's comet, has become very famous.

The work they got through between them is something astonishing. He made

with his own hands 430 parabolic mirrors for reflecting telescopes,

besides a great number of complete instruments. He was forty-two when he

began contributing to the Royal Society; yet before he died he had sent

them sixty-nine long and elaborate treatises. One of these memoirs is a

catalogue of 1000 nebulae. Fifteen years after he sends in another 1000;

and some years later another 500. He also discovered 806 double stars,

which he proved were really corrected from the fact that they revolved

round each other (p. 309). He lived to see some of them perform half a

revolution. For him the stars were not fixed: they moved slowly among

themselves. He detected their proper motions. He passed the whole

northern firmament in review four distinct times; counted the stars in

3,400 gauge-fields, and estimated the brightness of hundreds of stars.

He also measured as accurately as he could their proper motions,

devising for this purpose the method which still to this day remains in

use.

And what is the outcome of it all? It is not Uranus, nor the satellites,

nor even the double stars and the nebulae considered as mere objects: it

is the beginning of a science of the stars.

[Illustration: FIG. 85.--CAROLINE HERSCHEL.

_From a Drawing from Life, by_ GEORGE MUeLLER, 1847.]

Hitherto the stars had only been observed for nautical and practical

purposes. Their times of rising and southing and setting had been noted;

they had been treated as a clock or piece of dead mechanism, and as

fixed points of reference. All the energies of astronomers had gone out

towards the solar system. It was the planets that had been observed.

Tycho had observed and tabulated their positions. Kepler had found out

some laws of their motion. Galileo had discovered their peculiarities

and attendants. Newton and Laplace had perceived every detail of their

laws.

But for the stars--the old Ptolemaic system might still have been true.

They might still be mere dots in a vast crystalline sphere, all set at

about one distance, and subservient to the uses of the earth.

Herschel changed all this. Instead of sameness, he found variety;

instead of uniformity of distance, limitless and utterly limitless

fields and boundless distances; instead of rest and quiescence, motion

and activity; instead of stagnation, life.

[Illustration: FIG. 86.--The double-double star [epsilon] Lyrae as seen

under three different powers.]

Yes, that is what Herschel discovered--the life and activity of the

whole visible universe. No longer was our little solar system to be the

one object of regard, no longer were its phenomena to be alone

interesting to man. With Herschel every star was a solar system. And

more than that: he found suns revolving round suns, at distances such as

the mind reels at, still obeying the same law of gravitation as pulls an

apple from a tree. He tried hard to estimate the distance of the stars

from the earth, but there he failed: it was too hopeless a problem. It

was solved some time after his death by Bessel, and the distances of

many stars are now known but these distances are awful and unspeakable.

Our distance from the sun shrinks up into a mere speck--the whole solar

system into a mere unit of measurement, to be repeated hundreds of

thousands of times before we reach the stars.

Yet their motion is visible--yes, to very accurate measurement quite

plain. One star, known as 61 Cygni, was then and is now rushing along at

the rate of 100 miles every second. Not that you must imagine that this

makes any obvious and apparent change in its position. No, for all

ordinary and practical purposes they are still fixed stars; thousands of

years will show us no obvious change; "Adam" saw precisely the same

constellations as we do: it is only by refined micrometric measurement

with high magnifying power that their flight can be detected.

But the sun is one of the stars--not by any means a specially large or

bright one; Sirius we now know to be twenty times as big as the sun. The

sun is one of the stars: then is it at rest? Herschel asked this

question and endeavoured to answer it. He succeeded in the most

astonishing manner. It is, perhaps, his most remarkable discovery, and

savours of intuition. This is how it happened. With imperfect optical

means and his own eyesight to guide him, he considered and pondered over

the proper motion of the stars as he had observed it, till he discovered

a kind of uniformity running through it all. Mixed up with

irregularities and individualities, he found that in a certain part of

the heavens the stars were on the whole opening out--separating slowly

from each other; on the opposite side of the heavens they were on the

average closing up--getting slightly nearer to each other; while in

directions at right angles to this they were fairly preserving their

customary distances asunder.

Now, what is the moral to be drawn from such uniformity of behaviour

among unconnected bodies? Surely that this part of their motion is only

apparent--that it is we who are moving. Travelling over a prairie

bounded by a belt of trees, we should see the trees in our line of

advance opening out, and those behind closing up; we should see in fact

the same kind of apparent motion as Herschel was able to detect among

the stars: the opening out being most marked near the constellation

Hercules. The conclusion is obvious: the sun, with all its planets, must

be steadily moving towards a point in the constellation Hercules. The

most accurate modern research has been hardly able to improve upon this

statement of Herschel's. Possibly the solar system may ultimately be

found to revolve round some other body, but what that is no one knows.

All one can tell is the present direction of the majestic motion: since

it was discovered it has continued unchanged, and will probably so

continue for thousands of years.

[Illustration: FIG. 87.--Old drawing of the cluster in Hercules.]

And, finally, concerning the nebulae. These mysterious objects exercised

a strong fascination for Herschel, and many are the speculations he

indulges in concerning them. At one time he regards them all as clusters

of stars, and the Milky Way as our cluster; the others he regards as

other universes almost infinitely distant; and he proceeds to gauge and

estimate the shape of our own universe or galaxy of suns, the Milky Way.

Later on, however, he pictures to himself the nebulae as nascent suns:

solar systems before they are formed. Some he thinks have begun to

aggregate, while some are still glowing gas.

[Illustration: FIG. 88.--Old drawing of the Andromeda nebula.]

He likens the heavens to a garden in which there are plants growing in

all manner of different stages: some shooting, some in leaf, some in

flower, some bearing seed, some decaying; and thus at one inspection we

have before us the whole life-history of the plant.

Just so he thinks the heavens contain worlds, some old, some dead, some

young and vigorous, and some in the act of being formed. The nebulae are

these latter, and the nebulous stars are a further stage in the

condensation towards a sun.

And thus, by simple observation, he is led towards something very like

the nebular hypothesis of Laplace; and his position, whether it be true

or false, is substantially the same as is held to-day.

[Illustration: FIG. 89.--The great nebula in Orion.]

We _know_ now that many of the nebulae consist of innumerable isolated

particles and may be spoken of as gas. We know that some are in a state

of whirling motion. We know also that such gas left to itself will

slowly as it cools condense and shrink, so as to form a central solid

nucleus; and also, if it were in whirling motion, that it would send off

rings from itself, and that these rings could break up into planets. In

two familiar cases the ring has not yet thus aggregated into planet or

satellite--the zone of asteroids, and Saturn's ring.

The whole of this could not have been asserted in Herschel's time: for

further information the world had to wait.

These are the problems of modern astronomy--these and many others, which

are the growth of this century, aye, and the growth of the last thirty

or forty, and indeed of the last ten years. Even as I write, new and

very confirmatory discoveries are being announced. The Milky Way _does_

seem to have some affinity with our sun. And the chief stars of the

constellation of Orion constitute another family, and are enveloped in

the great nebula, now by photography perceived to be far greater than

had ever been imagined.

What is to be the outcome of it all I know not; but sure I am of this,

that the largest views of the universe that we are able to frame, and

the grandest manner of its construction that we can conceive, are

certain to pale and shrink and become inadequate when confronted with

the truth.

NOTES TO LECTURE XIII

BODE'S LAW.--Write down the series 0, 3, 6, 12, 24, 48, &c.; add 4 to

each, and divide by 10; you get the series:

.4 .7 1.0 1.6 2.8 5.2 10.0 19.6 38.8

Mercury Venus Earth Mars ---- Jupiter Saturn Uranus ----

numbers which very fairly represent the distances of the then known

planets from the sun in the order specified.

Ceres was discovered on the 1st of January, 1801, by Piazzi; Pallas in

March, 1802, by Olbers; Juno in 1804, by Harding; and Vesta in 1807, by

Olbers. No more asteroids were discovered till 1845, but there are now

several hundreds known. Their diameters range from 500 to 20 miles.

Neptune was discovered from the perturbations of Uranus by sheer

calculation, carried on simultaneously and independently by Leverrier in

Paris, and Adams in Cambridge. It was first knowingly seen by Galle, of

Berlin, on the 23rd of September, 1846.

LECTURE XIII

THE DISCOVERY OF THE ASTEROIDS

Up to the time of Herschel, astronomical interest centred on the solar

system. Since that time it has been divided, and a great part of our

attention has been given to the more distant celestial bodies. The solar

system has by no means lost its interest--it has indeed gained in

interest continually, as we gain in knowledge concerning it; but in

order to follow the course of science it will be necessary for us to

oscillate to and fro, sometimes attending to the solar system--the

planets and their satellites--sometimes extending our vision to the

enormously more distant stellar spaces.

Those who have read the third lecture in Part I. will remember the

speculation in which Kepler indulged respecting the arrangements of the

planets, the order in which they succeeded one another in space, and the

law of their respective distances from the sun; and his fanciful guess

about the five regular solids inscribed and circumscribed about their

orbits.

The rude coincidences were, however, accidental, and he failed to

discover any true law. No thoroughly satisfactory law is known at the

present day. And yet, if the nebular hypothesis or anything like it be

true, there must be some law to be discovered hereafter, though it may

be a very complicated one.

An empirical relation is, however, known: it was suggested by Tatius,

and published by Bode, of Berlin, in 1772. It is always known as Bode's

law.

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