To the southeast of Cassiopeia’s Chair lies the constellation

Perseus, distinguished by its well-known festoon, or curve, of

stars. South of this lies the constellation Taurus or the Bull,

which contains the well-known groups or clusters, the Pleiades and

the Hyades. The Pleiades form perhaps the most remarkable group of

stars in the heavens, and are easily found, when above the horizon.

To ordinary eyesight the cluster consists of six stars. Some persons

gifted with exceptionally keen eyesight have, however, seen eleven

or twelve. A map of the Pleiades made in the sixteenth century

shows eleven stars very correctly. This was drawn, of course, from

observations made with a measuring instrument, but without the aid of

a telescope. The observer (I think it was Möstlin, Kepler’s tutor)

must have possessed wonderfully sharp eyesight. The Hyades form a

V-shaped figure, and contain the bright reddish star Aldebaran.

South of Taurus and Gemini will be found the splendid constellation

of Orion, perhaps the most brilliant group of stars visible in

either hemisphere. A remarkable quadrilateral figure is formed by

its four stars, Betelgeuse (Alpha) and Gamma[18] on the north, and

Rigel (Beta) and Kappa on the south. Of these Betelgeuse and Rigel

are bright stars of the first magnitude. Betelgeuse is distinctly

reddish and also slightly variable in its light. Rigel is a beautiful

white star. In the middle of the quadrilateral are three stars of the

second magnitude, nearly in a straight line, known as Delta, Epsilon,

and Zeta, Delta being the northern of the three. These form Orion’s

“belt.” South of these are three faint stars, also in a straight

line, forming the “sword” of Orion. Surrounding the central star

of the “sword” is “the great nebula of Orion,” one of the finest

objects in the heavens. It is barely visible to the naked eye, but

may be seen with a good opera-glass.

To the southeast of Orion will be found Sirius, the brightest star

in the heavens. It is the chief star of the constellation Canis

Major, or the Great Dog, and has been well termed “the monarch of the

skies,” from its great brilliancy.

The bright star Regulus, referred to above, is situated in a

remarkable group of stars shaped like a sickle, and known as “the

Sickle in Leo.” Regulus lies at the extremity of the handle. Leo is

well placed for observation in April and May.

The famous group called the Southern Cross forms a conspicuous object

in the southern heavens. It has formed a subject of interest since

the earliest ages of antiquity. Its component stars, are, however,

not so brilliant as some suppose, the two brightest being between the

first and second magnitudes, the next of the second, and one between

the third and fourth magnitudes. Near the Southern Cross are two

bright stars known as Alpha[19] and Beta of the Centaur.

Among the stars are many objects known as “double stars.” These

consist of two stars very close together, but which appear to

the naked eye only as single stars. Some are triple, and even

quadruple. Of these double stars there are now about 10,000 known

to astronomers, but they are only visible with a telescope. Some,

indeed, are so close that the highest powers of the very largest

telescopes are necessary to see them as anything but single stars.

Of the naked-eye stars there are, however, some apparently so close

that they present very much the appearance of real double stars as

seen in a telescope. These, although not recognized by astronomers

as double stars, have been termed “naked-eye doubles.” Houzeau found

that the brighter the stars are the easier it is to separate them;

and that for small stars, about 15′ of arc, or half the moon’s

apparent diameter, is about the limit below which the naked eye can

not see a faint star double.

[Illustration: Fig. 15.—Constellation of the Great Bear]

Of the “naked-eye doubles,” perhaps the most remarkable is Mizar,

the middle star in the “tail” of the Great Bear. Close to it is a

small star, sometimes called “Jack on the Middle Horse.” It was

known to the ancient astronomers as Alcor, or “the test,” as it was

_then_ considered a test of excellent eyesight. Whether it has really

brightened seems doubtful, but at present it is perhaps visible to

_ordinary_ eyesight. Some, however, fail to see it, while to others

with keener vision it seems as plain as the proverbial “pike-staff.”

The star Alpha Capricorni consists of two stars which, although

closer than Mizar and Alcor, are more equal in brightness, and may

be easily seen with the naked eye on a clear night. Nu Sagittarii

may also be seen double in this way. Theta Tauri, in the Hyades, is

another object which some eyes can see distinctly double; also Kappa

Tauri, a little to the north of the Hyades; Omicron Cygni, a little

to the west of Alpha Cygni (Deneb), is another example. On a very

fine night two stars may be seen in Iota Orionis, the most southern

star in the “sword.” Near Gamma Leonis, one of the brightest stars in

the “sickle,” is a star of the sixth magnitude, which some can see

without optical aid.

The most severe test is, however, Epsilon Lyræ, the northern of two

small stars which form a little triangle with the brilliant Vega.

This, to some eyes, appears double. The famous German astronomer

Bessel is said to have seen it at thirteen years of age. To most

people, however, it will perhaps appear only elongated. This is a

very remarkable star, as each of the components is seen to be a close

double when examined with a good telescope; and between the pairs are

several fainter stars.

Among those interesting objects, the variable stars, are several

which may be well observed without optical assistance. Of these

may be mentioned Algol, of which all the fluctuations of light

may be easily observed with the naked eye; Mira Ceti, which may be

well observed when at its brightest; Lambda Tauri, a variable star

of the Algol type; Betelgeuse (Alpha Orionis), which is slightly

variable; Zeta Geminorum, a fourth magnitude star, which varies

about three-quarters of a magnitude in a period of about ten days;

R. Hydræ, which is visible to the naked eye at maximum; Beta Lyræ,

period about thirteen days; Eta Aquilæ, period about seven days;

and Delta Cephei, which varies about one magnitude in a period of a

little over five days. Of all these stars useful observations may be

made without optical assistance of any sort.

Observations, and even discoveries, of new or “temporary” stars

may also be made with the naked eye. This occurred in the case of

the “temporary” stars of 1572, 1604, 1670, 1866, and 1870, but, of

course, these were bright objects at the time of their discovery.

Hind’s “new star” of 1848 in Ophiuchus was, however, only of the

fifth magnitude when it appeared, and it might have escaped detection

with the naked eye. A star of this magnitude might, however, be

easily detected by an observer who is familiar with the principal

stars of a constellation.

The Milky Way may, perhaps, be better seen with the naked eye than

with any instrument, although an opera-glass brings out well, in some

places, its more delicate details. A mere passing glance might lead

a casual observer to suppose that the Galaxy stretched as a band of

nearly uniform brightness across the heavens. But good eyesight,

careful attention, and a clear sky will soon disclose numerous

details previously unsuspected; streams and rays of different

brightness, intersected by rifts of darkness, and interspersed with

spots and channels of comparatively starless spaces. An excellent

drawing of the Milky Way—the result of five years’ observations

with the naked eye alone—has recently been completed by Dr. Otto

Boeddicker at Lord Rosse’s observatory in Ireland. This beautiful

picture is exquisitely drawn, and shows a wonderful amount of

detail. A writer in the _Saturday Review_ of November 30, 1889,

says: “His maps are in many respects a completely new disclosure.

Features barely suspected before come out in them as evident and

persistent; every previous representation appears, by comparison,

_structureless_.” This shows what can be done with the naked eye in

the study of this wonderful zone.

Among the nebulæ and clusters there are not many objects visible to

the naked eye. A hazy appearance about the middle star in Orion’s

“sword” indicates the presence of the “great Nebula,” one of the

finest objects in the heavens. The “great Nebula in Andromeda,” aptly

termed “the Queen of the Nebulæ,” is distinctly visible to the naked

eye on a very clear night. It lies near the four and a half magnitude

star, Nu Andromedæ (a few degrees north of Beta Andromedæ), and may

be well seen in the early evening hours in the month of January, when

it is high in the sky. It somewhat resembles a small comet. This

nebula was known long before the invention of the telescope, and it

was described by one of the earlier astronomers as resembling “a

candle shining through horn,” a not inapt description.

Of star clusters visible without optical aid may be mentioned the

double cluster Chi Persei, which appears to the eye as a luminous

spot in the Milky Way; the cluster known as 35 Messier, a little

north of Eta Geminorum, just visible to the naked eye on a very clear

night; and there are others in the Southern Hemisphere, notably the

globular cluster known as Omega in the Centaur, which shines as a

hazy star of the fourth magnitude. Among the clusters may perhaps

be included the Præsepe, or the “Beehive,” in Cancer, which has a

nebulous appearance to the naked eye.

Coming now to the Solar System, the sun and moon, of course, first

attract attention. Cases of sun-spots visible to the naked eye are

recorded, but, of course, spots of such enormous size are of rare

occurrence. Of lunar detail little can be seen without a telescope of

some sort, but the larger markings are sufficiently distinct to good

eyesight to convince the observer that they do not alter perceptibly,

thus showing clearly that the moon always turns the same side to the

earth.

Of the planets, nothing of their appearance in the telescope can,

of course, be seen with the naked eye, but it is easy to identify

the brighter planets. Mercury, owing to its proximity to the sun,

is rarely visible in Europe and North America, but when favorably

situated, it may sometimes be detected near the sun shortly after

sunset or a little before sunrise. Notwithstanding the difficulty of

seeing it, it was well known to the ancients, an observation of the

planet dating back to 264 B. C. It is easier, however, to see in more

southern latitudes, and I have frequently observed it as bright as

a star of the first magnitude in the clear air of the Punjab sky. I

have also seen it on several occasions in Ireland, and the Rev. S. S.

Johnson, F.R.A.S., tells me he has seen it with the naked eye no less

than one hundred times in the south of England. The brilliant planet

Venus can hardly be mistaken when seen in the morning or evening sky.

When at its brightest it considerably exceeds Jupiter and Mars, and

far surpasses Sirius, the brightest star in the heavens.

If a very bright planet is seen rising at sunset, it can not be

Venus, which is never seen beyond a limited distance from the sun.

The observer may, therefore, conclude with certainty that the

planet is either Jupiter or Mars. The latter, which occasionally

rivals Jupiter in brilliancy, may be easily distinguished from the

“giant planet” by its distinctly reddish color. Saturn shines with

a yellowish light, and is never so bright as Mars or Jupiter when

at their brightest. The planet Uranus is just visible to the naked

eye, and may be found without optical assistance when its position is

accurately known.

Some observers think that they can see the crescent of Venus with

the naked eye when the planet is in that phase, but this seems

very doubtful. Cases have been recorded of one or two satellites

of Jupiter having been seen with the unaided eyesight, but few are

gifted with such keen vision.

Occultations of bright stars may be well seen with the naked eye,

especially when they pass behind the moon’s _dark_ limb, and as the

disappearance of a star is practically instantaneous, really valuable

observations may be made without a telescope, by merely noting the

exact time at which the star vanishes.

Most of the comets discovered by astronomers are small and faint, and

only visible in good telescopes. At intervals, however, a brilliant

visitor appears on the scene, and its path among the stars may be

watched from night to night with the naked eye. Before the invention

of the telescope, bright comets were watched in this way, and their

course recorded so carefully that it has been found possible to

calculate their orbits with some approach to accuracy. In these days

of large telescopes and instruments of almost mathematical precision,

such a method of observation is, of course, superseded; but we may

still watch the movements of a bright comet with interest, and note

its apparent path across the sky with pleasure and profit. Shooting

stars and fire-balls may be best observed with the naked eye, and

the excellent work done in this way by Mr. W. F. Denning, F.R.A.S.,

should encourage others to take up this interesting branch of

astronomy.

Another object which may be well seen with the naked eye—indeed, it

may best be observed in this way—is the Zodiacal Light. This is a

lenticular or cone-shaped beam of light, which makes its appearance

at certain times of the year, above the eastern horizon before the

dawn, and above the western horizon after sunset, when the sky is

clear and the moon absent. In the tropics it is much more easily

seen, the twilight being shorter, and I have often observed it in

India shining with great brilliancy.

From the above sketch my readers will see how much may be learned of

astronomy without optical assistance of any kind, and I hope that

those who do not possess a telescope will use their eyes instead, and

thus gain some knowledge of the wonders and beauties of the starry

heavens. The knowledge thus gained will stimulate their curiosity and

will give them keener interest in reading books which describe the

still greater wonders revealed by the telescope.

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Also known as the Dipper and Charles’s Wain.—E. S.

[17] The Arabian names Dubhe (Alpha), Merak (Beta), Phecda (Gamma),

Megrez (Delta), Alioth (Epsilon), Mizar (Zeta), and Alkaid (Eta).

—E. S.

[18] Bellatrix.

[19] This is the nearest star to the earth.—E. S.

THE MILKY WAY.—RICHARD A. PROCTOR

To those who rightly appreciate its meaning the Milky Way is the most

magnificent of all astronomical phenomena. However opinions may vary

as to the configuration of the star-streams composing this object, no

doubt now exists among astronomers that the Milky Way consists really

of suns, some doubtless falling short of our own sun in brilliancy,

but many probably surpassing it. Around these suns, we may fairly

conceive, there revolve systems of dependent orbs, each supporting

its myriads of living creatures. We have afforded to us a noble theme

for contemplation in the consideration of the endless diversities of

structure, and of arrangement, which must prevail throughout this

immensity of systems.

The Galaxy traverses the constellation Cassiopeia. Thence it throws

off a branch toward Alpha Persei (Mirfak), prolonged faintly toward

the Pleiades. The main stream, here faint, passes on through Auriga,

between the feet of Gemini and the Bull’s horns, over Orion’s club

to the neck of Monoceros. Thence, growing gradually brighter, the

stream passes over the head of Canis Major, in a uniform stream,

until it enters the prow of Argo, where it subdivides. One stream

continues to Gamma Argus, the other diffuses itself broadly, forming

a fan-like expanse of interlacing branches, which terminate abruptly

on a line through Lambda and Gamma Argus. Here there is a gap beyond

which the Milky Way commences in a similar fan-shaped grouping,

converging on the brilliant (and in other respects remarkable)

star Eta Argus. Thence, it enters the Cross by a narrow neck, and

then directly expands into a broad, bright mass, extending almost

to Alpha Centauri. Within this mass is a singular cavity known as

the Coal-Sack. At Alpha Centauri the Milky Way again subdivides, a

branch running off at an angle of 20°, and losing itself in a narrow

streamlet. The main stream increases in breadth, until, “making

an abrupt elbow,” it subdivides into one continuous but irregular

stream, and a complicated system of interlacing streams covering the

region around the tail and following claw of Scorpio. A wide interval

separates this part of the Galaxy from the great branch on the

northern side, terminating close on Beta Ophiuchi.

The main stream, after exhibiting several very remarkable

condensations, passes through Aquila, Sagitta, and Vulpecula to

Cygnus. In Cygnus there is a “confused and patchy” region marked by a

broad vacancy, not unlike the Coal-Sack. From this region there is

thrown off the offset to Beta Ophiuchi, already mentioned; the main

stream is continued to Cassiopeia.

[Illustration: Fig. 16.—The Midnight Sky, with Milky Way]

There only remains to be noticed “a considerable offset or

protuberant appendage,” thrown from the head of Cepheus directly

toward the pole. Galileo was the first to prove, though earlier

astronomers had entertained the notion, that the Milky Way was

composed of a vast number of stars crowded closely together. But no

attempt was made to offer a theory of its structure until, in 1754

Thomas Wright, in his _Theory of the Universe_, propounded views

closely according with those entertained later by Sir W. Herschel.

Wright, having examined a portion of the Galaxy with a reflecting

telescope, only one foot in focal length, came to the conclusion that

our sun is in the midst of a vast stratum of stars; that it is when

we look along the direction in which this stratum extends that we see

the zone of light constituting the Milky Way; and that as the line of

sight is inclined at a greater and greater angle to the mean plane

of the stratum, the apparent density of the star-grouping gradually

diminishes.

But it is to Sir W. Herschel, and the supplementary labors of Sir

J. Herschel, that we owe the more definite views now commonly

entertained respecting the Via Lactea. The elder Herschel, whose

nobly speculative views of nature were accompanied by practical

common-sense, and a wonderful power of patient observation, applied

to the heavens his celebrated method of gauging. He assumed as a

first principle, to be modified by the results of observation, that

there is a tolerable uniformity in the distribution of stars through

space. Directing his twenty-foot reflector successively toward

different parts of the heavens, he counted the number of stars which

were visible at any single view. The field of view of this reflector

was fifteen minutes in diameter, so that the portion of the sky

included in any one view was less than one-fourth of that covered by

the moon. He found the number of stars visible in different parts

of the heavens in a field of view of this size to be very variable.

Sometimes there were but two or three stars in the field;[20]

indeed, on one occasion he counted only three stars in four fields.

In other parts of the heavens the whole field was crowded with

stars. In the richer parts of the Galaxy as many as four hundred or

five hundred stars would be visible at once, and on one occasion he

saw as many as five hundred and eighty-eight. He calculated that

in one-quarter of an hour 116,000 stars traversed the field of his

telescope, when the richest part of the Galaxy was under observation.

Now, on the assumption above named, the number of stars visible when

the telescope was pointed in any given direction was a criterion of

the depth of the bed of stars in that direction. Thus, by combining

a large number of observations, a conception—rough, indeed, but

instructive—might be formed of the figure of that stratum of stars

within which our sun is situated.

Sir J. Herschel, during his residence at the Cape of Good Hope,

carried out an extensive series of observations of the southern

heavens. Applying his father’s methods of gauging with a telescope

of equal power, he obtained a result agreeing, in a most remarkable

manner, with those obtained by Sir William Herschel. It appeared,

however, that the Southern Hemisphere is somewhat richer in stars

than the Northern—a result which has been accepted as indicating that

our system is probably somewhat nearer the southern than the northern

part of the galactic nebula. Moreover, Sir J. Herschel was led to

believe that the sidereal system forms a cloven flat ring rather than

a disk.

I think no one who has attentively examined the glories of Orion,

the richly jeweled Taurus, the singular festoon of stars in Perseus,

and the closely set stars of Cassiopeia, but must have felt that

the association of splendor along this streak of the heavens is

not wholly accidental. The stars here seem to form a system, and a

system which one can hardly conceive to be wholly unconnected with

the neighboring stream of the Milky Way. But in the southern portion

the arrangement is yet more remarkable and significant. From Scorpio,

over the feet of the Centaur, over the keel of Argo, to Canis Major,

there is a clustering of brilliant stars, which it seems wholly

impossible not to connect with the background of nebulous light.

It is noteworthy, also, that this stream of stars merges into the

stream commencing with the group of Orion, already noticed. Nor is

this all. It is impossible not to be struck by the marked absence of

bright stars in the region of the heavens between Algol, Crux, and

Corvus. One has the impression that the stars have been attracted

toward the region of the stream indicated, so as to leave this space

comparatively bare.

Now, this last circumstance would appear less remarkable if the

paucity of stars here noticed were common also in parts of the

heavens far removed from the Milky Way. But this is not the case.

Beyond this very region, which we find so bare of stars, we come to a

region in which stars are clustered in considerable density, a region

including Crater, Corvus, and Virgo, with the conspicuous stars

Algores, Alkes, and Spica. But what is very remarkable, while we can

trace a connection between the stream of bright stars over the Milky

Way and the stream of nebulous light in the background, it is obvious

that the two streams are not absolutely coincident in direction.

The stream lies on one side of the Milky Way near Scorpio, crosses

it in the neighborhood of Crux, and passes to the other side along

Canis Major, Orion, and Taurus. Does the stream return to the Milky

Way? It seems to me that there is clear evidence of a separation

near Aldebaran, one branch curving through Auriga, Perseus, and

Cassiopeia, the other proceeding (more nearly in the direction

originally observed) through Aries (throwing out an outlier along the

band of Pisces), over the Square of Pegasus, and along the streams

which the ancients compared to water from the urn of Aquarius (but

which in our modern maps are divided between Aquarius and Grus).

The stream-formation here is very marked, as is evident from the

phenomenon having attracted the notice of astronomers so long ago.

But modern travels have brought within our ken the continuation of

the stream over Toucan, Hydrus, and Reticulum (the two latter names

being doubtless suggested by the convolutions of the stream in this

neighborhood). Here the stream seems to end in a sort of double loop,

and it is not a little remarkable that the Nubecula Major lies within

one loop, the Nubecula Minor within the other. It is also noteworthy

that from the foot of Orion there is another remarkable stream

of stars, recognized by the ancients under the name of the River

Eridanus, which proceeds in a sinuous course toward this same region

of the Nubeculæ.

The story of the universe. Volume 1 (of 4) · 第 8 / 27 段