THE STORY OF ORION AND TAURUS, THE BULL
ORION, THE MIGHTY HUNTER
[Figure 108]
OF all the interesting star-scenery that we pass as we travel in our
year-long, never-ending path around the sun, the most magnificent and
impressive is the figure of the beautiful constellation of Orion.
This constellation is not only one of the largest, but its stars are so
particularly vivid as a group and so uniquely arranged as a design, that
they never fail to catch the eye of even the casual observer,--like the
carpenter, who, on noticing it for the first time, humorously exclaimed,
"Well, look at the house-roof up in the sky!" thus unconsciously
recognizing the stars as being united in a common picture or
constellation.
All the ancient legends agree in describing Orion as a giant of
extraordinary height and the greatest hunter in the world. Classical
evidence is abundant as to his huge stature, though obviously, this
evidence is not trustworthy. Pliny reports that an earthquake in Crete
disclosed the bones of a giant 46 cubits in length, held by some to be
Orion. A cubit is an ancient measure of about 18 inches so that if
Pliny's report is correct, Orion was 69 feet tall.
There are many stories which relate the adventures of Orion but
these vary even to the point of contradiction. Even the manner of his
death is open to question, the two most popular versions being as
follows:
Diana, the lovely Moon-goddess, sometimes neglected to carry the moon
across the sky so that she might spend the evening hunting with her
nymphs upon the mountains. On one of these occasions she met Orion, the
mighty hunter, and straightway fell in love with him, thereby so greatly
displeasing her twin-brother Apollo, the Sun-god, that he determined to
put an end to the affair. The opportunity, unfortunately, came soon
afterward when the hunter was wading in the sea. Pouring his golden rays
on Orion so that the brightness would conceal him, the god suggested to
the goddess that they practice archery on the beach. Then, pointing to a
bright object shining on the waves in the distance, Apollo persuaded
Diana to try her skill by aiming one of her arrows at it. Diana aimed,
and since she had never missed, the arrow hit its mark. Amid the ruffled
waters tossed about in the giant's death agony, the goddess recognized
the face of her beloved, and weeping bitterly, accused Apollo of the
wildest category of sins. Proceeding then to Jupiter, she begged that
god to place the hunter among the stars where she might always see him
shining in the night time, as she drove her silver chariot along the
pathway of the zodiac.
Another legend claims that Orion's death was caused by the sting of a
poisonous scorpion which Juno had commanded to spring out of the ground
and punish him for his unparalleled boasting. This has already been
referred to in a previous chapter. Although the scorpion and the hunter
were both placed in the sky, they were considerately situated in such
positions, that when the Hunter appears in the east, the Scorpion
disappears below the horizon in the west, thus saving the hunter the
embarrassment of seeing his innocuous conqueror.
Still another legend describes the attempt of Æsculapius, famous
physician and son of Apollo, to restore Orion to life. This attempt so
angered Jupiter, due to the influence of Pluto, who had become irritated
by the physician's power to detain a soul after it had started for the
Kingdom under the ground, that Jupiter sent one of his thunderbolts and
annihilated Æsculapius, otherwise his brother's realms might in time
have become depopulated. Apollo, in fury, shot the one-eyed Cyclops who
had furnished the thunderbolts, and then sought Jupiter, as had his
sister, and requested him to place the physician in the sky and light
him up with everlasting stars, for this was the second son that he had
killed with a thunderbolt and he was feeling rather badly about it.
Jupiter, having no objection to this, kindly granted the request, and it
is believed by many that the physician is represented by Ophiuchus, a
huge sky figure whose head rests next to that of Hercules.
When Orion was placed in the sky, he was allowed to bring along his
lion's skin, which hangs on his arm, his sword, which swings from his
girdle, his great club, which he flourishes above his head, and his two
dogs, who watch his battle with the red-eyed Bull.
"Begirt with many a blazing star,
Stood the great giant Algebar
Orion, hunter of the beast."
--_Longfellow._
Taurus, the Bull, is easily recognized by his V-shaped face and the red
glare of the star which marks his eye. This angry creature charges with
lowered head, his golden horns just above the Hunter, who defends
himself with his club now decked with glittering star-points and forces
the Bull to back before him all the way across the sky.
A first glimpse of the Hunter and the Bull may be obtained in the east
about midnight during late October although it is more convenient
to look for them in November or December when the Hunter's huge figure
stands squarely in the south. By the middle of May, the battle scene has
reached the western horizon. One by one, each sparkling light disappears
not to be seen again until the following October. One should say perhaps
'at a convenient hour' for in the summer-time Orion may be seen in the
east at dawn. Aurora, the Dawn-goddess, up bright and early to open the
sun gates for Apollo, saw the handsome hunter on the sky slope decked
with red and white and yellow lights of stars. Like Diana, she loved him
immediately, but, in the words of the poets, he pales before her
colorful radiance as she reaches upward to announce the coming of the
sun. Because dawn takes away the stars, Orion is said to have been
carried away by this goddess and even yet this story may be seen enacted
when watching the glory of Orion captured by Aurora as she flashes
rosy-tinted in the east.
THE LION'S SKIN OF ORION
[Figure 109]
During the course of his adventurous wanderings on earth, Orion once
came to the Island of Chios, in the Ægean Sea, where he fell in love
with a maiden named Merope. In order to display his skill as a hunter,
he cleared the island of its scourge of wild beasts and brought their
skins as presents to his sweetheart. This he accomplished alone and
unaided except by his mighty club and the protecting hide of a lion.
This is the same lion's skin that he wears in the sky during his
struggle with Taurus, the Bull, only here it is adorned by a faintly
curved row of tiny 4th and 5th magnitude stars, and about ten stars of
the 6th magnitude. This "tawny skin" hangs over the Hunter's left arm
between his western shoulder and the Bull.
"And on his arm the lion's hide
Scatters across the midnight air
The golden radiance of his hair."
--_Longfellow._
The skin appears first of all above the eastern horizon and its little
stars flutter vigorously as if being shaken warningly at any who might
defy him. Then Orion, arrayed in large stars, slowly rises from his
reclining position along the eastern ledge. One might imagine that he at
first peers along the south in search of the poisonous scorpion which
had stung him on the heel, for this must have been a supreme humiliation
for so brave a hunter. But there is nothing in the south but the river
Eridanus and the lightly starred Sea-monster with his head reared upward
toward Andromeda. Feeling reasonably safe from any rear attacks, Orion
now confidently climbs the darkened eastern slope; his Lion's Skin
twinkles as he tautens his arm; his great Club is raised in readiness
above his head, and joying in the combat, he henceforth wages, in
unmolested peace, his eternal battle with Taurus, the Bull.
BETELGEUSE, ON ORION'S SHOULDER
[Figure 110]
Just opposite the Lion's Skin, on the right shoulder of the Hunter,
rests the beautifully tinted star, Betelgeuse. This star, like Antares,
makes one think of roses, although Antares is more the shade of a deep
red rose, while Betelgeuse is a wild rose pink. Diana probably notes the
decoration as she passes in her chariot, for on certain dates she drives
directly in front of his head-stars. On the opposite shoulder lies the
yellow Bellatrix, "the female warrior or Amazon star." The title of this
star was likely given it in honor of Orion's mother, who was
fabled as Euryale, the famous Amazon Queen.
On account of recent discoveries concerning it, Betelgeuse has become
one of the most interesting of our stars. When Professor Michelson of
the University of Chicago discovered a means of measuring the diameter
of stars, he measured Betelgeuse and found it to be of the most enormous
size. Indeed, if this huge rose-tinted star were placed in the position
of our sun, it would fill the solar system nearly to the planet Mars!
This unique achievement of measuring the diameter of a star made the
world sit up in amazement. The measurement was made at the Mount Wilson
Observatory with the largest reflecting telescope ever made, a telescope
which has an aperture of a little more than 100 inches. A set of mirrors
was attached in such a way that for the purpose of measurement the
effect of a 20-foot aperture was obtained and Professor Michelson was
able to prove that the disk of Betelgeuse has an angular diameter of
approximately one twenty-second of a second--which means that if the
distance deduced from the best determined parallax of the star is
correct, the actual diameter is 230,000,000 miles! But this giant red
star is a globe of little density; the dwarf red stars, although about
the same mass, are found to be more compact. Hale in "The New Heavens"
says that there are good reasons for believing that "the mass of
Betelgeuse cannot be more than ten times that of the sun's volume.
Therefore its average density must be like that of an attenuated gas in
an electric vacuum tube." It is difficult to adjust one's everyday
conception of a star to such a sheer and rarefied object. Such a star
seems almost too spiritual to exist, and is certainly an amazing thing
to picture in the heavens. But Betelgeuse is not a starry spirit, but a
full-fledged mammoth star, though it is only recently (in a cosmic
sense) that it started on its career.
RIGEL, ON ORION'S FOOT
[Figure 111]
The brilliant white light of Rigel on Orion's foot shines in charming
contrast to the pink-tinged Betelgeuse which lies upon his shoulder.
Rigel is a young star but not as young as Betelgeuse, for Betelgeuse,
like ruddy Antares, is among the youngest of the stars.
[Figure 112:
"The scorched waters of Eridanus' tear-swollen flood
Welling beneath the foot of Orion."
--_Aratus._]
It has been many hundred million years since Rigel was as big and red as
Betelgeuse now is. Rigel belongs to a group which includes the hottest
of all the stars and even at a distance of at least 450 light years, it
still appears so brilliant that it is one of our brightest stars. It has
been estimated that in actual luminosity it exceeds our sun about 13,000
times.
A blue star of the 9th magnitude lies close beside Rigel. This little
star may be seen with even a small telescope.
Just a little west of Rigel wanders a crooked line of stars, first
toward Cetus, then southward toward the horizon. This is the "poor
remains" of the river Eridanus. Aratus speaks of it as those "poor
remains" because it represents what is left of the "amazed Eridanus"
after Phæthon had, like a streaming comet, plunged into it and partly
burned it up. Aratus also calls it "The River of Many Tears" because the
Heliades, Phæthon's sisters, who were metamorphosed into poplar trees,
"all the day stand round the tomb and weep" great amber tears.
This constellation, which is best seen directly in the south during
September, is a tribute of respect to the grief of the Sungod who had
gazed with horror at the wild flight of the sun-horses and the
thunderbolt of Jupiter that had hurled his boy through the air. Touched
by Apollo's remorse for allowing the youth to drive his horses, Jupiter
drew the river to the heavens, thinking that it might be a consolation
to Apollo, as he performed his daily task, to view the kindly river, now
flecked with stars, which had once caught the "charred fragment" of
Phæthon and "cooled it in his waters."
[Figure 113:
"But earthbound winds could not dismember thee,
Nor shake thy frame of jewels."
--_Charles Tennyson Turner._]
ORION'S HEAD
[Figure 114]
The head of Orion is marked by two small stars and a larger one. These
stars form a tiny triangle named Meissa, which means "The Head of the
Giant." The three stars form rather a small head for the rest of the
giant's well proportioned body, so they are sometimes placed on the side
of his head and sometimes as beauty-spots upon his face, according to
the fancy of the artist who portrays him. The triangle is faint but very
easily seen and a happy addition to the figure; without them, or if they
happened to lie in another position, the constellation might well have
represented something other than a giant.
There is a curious optical illusion which occurs when the moon is among
these stars, for the big, round full face of the moon actually _passes
through_ the sides of this (seemingly) tiny triangle. But one must be on
the alert to view this interesting occurrence for the Moon-goddess
travels swiftly in her chariot over the sky and leaves even her lover no
more than a passing caress. The explanation is, that the triangle of
stars on Orion's head appears small in comparison with the great
quadrilateral figure which lies below it, and the delusion as to the
size of the moon is accounted for partly as a result of its brightness
(the bright rays spreading its image on the retina), and partly because
there is nothing in the sky with which to compare it. When the moon
rises behind a tree on the hillside it seems a mammoth thing, a silver
ball so huge that it seems almost absurd to state that it can flit
between the sides of Orion's triangle. Yet the closer it comes to
Orion's head the smaller does it seem to become and the larger becomes
the triangle. When the two touch sides, the triangle is seen to be large
enough to contain the moon, which slides through without touching its
stars.
ORION'S BELT
[Figure 115]
Although most popularly known as the "Belt of Orion," this Belt is also
known by other names. In the Book of Job it is referred to as the "Bands
of Orion"; in the mythology of Greece and Rome, as the arrow with which
Diana killed the hunter when he was wading in the sea, and in the
mythology of Northern races, as Frigga's jeweled Spinning Wheel with
which the Goddess wove the long threads of fleecy clouds. Miss Proctor
says that the Eskimos believe that the stars may be three seal hunters
who have lost their way, and call them the "Lost Ones," although they
also think that the Belt resembles three steps cut in a snowbank. The
native Australians unite the Belt stars in a picture with the Pleiad
group above Orion's shoulder and, according to Allen, imagine them as
three young men "dancing a corroboree" while the Pleiades are the
maidens playing for them. In England the Belt is called the "Ell and
Yard," the "Yard Wand" and the "Golden Yard," because its stars are
equidistant like a measuring rod; it is also called "Jacob's Staff" and
sometimes the stars are called the "Three Kings," although the Germans
call them the "Three Mowers." Far south on the hot deserts, the Arabs
see the Belt stars as a "String of Pearls" and the Arabian astronomers,
giving each pearl a name, called the first Mintaka, the second Alnilam
and the third Alnitak. Other countries have called the stars "The
Spangles" and "The Golden Grains," while Tennyson speaks of them as
being "burnished by the frosty dark," which is the poet's way of saying
that the stars of the Giant's Belt are exceptionally beautiful.
Modern astronomers turning their telescopes upon the stars of this
Belt note that there is more to be seen here than meets the unaided eye,
for suspended from either side, like an added attempt at decoration,
hang tiny stars of different sizes, daintily colored. Mintaka (δ), the
double star on the west, is a white and pale violet, of the 2nd and the
7th magnitudes. Alnitak (ζ) on the lower end to the southeast, is a
topaz-yellow, light purple and gray, of the 2nd, 6th and 10th
magnitudes. The faint star just below Alnitak is composed of an
exquisite group of delicate stars of various colors.
If the north pole of our earth was shot out like a dart, it would hit
the dome of our sky somewhere in the vicinity of the North Star.
Likewise, if the earth's equator could be conceived of as swelling and
swelling and swelling, it would hit Orion just about at the top star of
his belt. The circular line where this imaginary terrestrial hoop would
fit against the heavens is called the celestial equator and it, of
course, is in a position equally distant between the two heavenly poles.
A good way to remember just where the celestial equator passes is
noticing the pathway which the star mentioned above traces in its
journey from east to west. A teacher of astronomy would now add that not
only is the terrestrial equator marked as the celestial equator in the
sky, but every meridian of the 'swollen' earth is traced up there as an
hour circle, all of the hour circles being fastened in a great framework
to both poles, as they are on earth. But instead of latitude the
astronomer says declination, and in place of longitude he says right
ascension, just as in place of meridian, he says hour circle. He then
can designate the places of the stars in the sky in exactly the manner
in which he designates the position of a sea or a city on the earth and
as large telescopes are provided with equatorial mountings, so that
their axes conform with that of our earth, objects in the sky can be
located by the use of graduated circles and verniers, thus greatly
facilitating astronomical research.
THE GREAT NEBULA OF ORION
[Figure 116]
One of the most impressive spectacles in the sky lies on the center of
the Sword of Orion. This Sword is adorned with three stars, the central
one appearing misty, "like an eye in tears." A large telescope discloses
that this is not a star after all but beautiful cloudy masses of
nebulæ, which cover the whole central part of the constellation. A
photograph uncovers a still further surprise (for the eye of a camera is
more sensitive to light than the eye at a telescope), and one sees then
that the nebula spreads in all directions, over and beyond most of the
stars on the Hunter's figure.
"It is a wonderful sight," says Peck in "The Constellations," "the whole
field of view is filled with an irregular mass of green shining mist,
which is apparently broken up into flocculent masses, delicate clouds of
light, sprays and wisps, and standing out from the cloudy background,
like a sprinkling of diamond dust, are seen faint, glittering stars."
Vast masses of dark nebulæ in the Nebula of Orion are also effectively
revealed in telescopes. The dark nebula is visible in the photographs as
veil-like clouds obscuring the light of the stars beyond them, or,
again, as definitely outlined black blotches lying like some huge object
on a brilliantly glowing background. Such a 'blotch' is the Dark Bay or
Dark Horse Nebula in Orion whose photograph is so fearfully suggestive
and wonderfully beautiful.
Nebulous clouds are, in general, dark rather than luminous. These clouds
are believed by many astronomers to be cosmic dust-particles driven out
from bright stars. These particles finally collect in great clouds
which, when far from the light of stars, are dark. When the accumulating
clouds of dust become so heavy that gravitation begins to draw their
particles together, heat is generated and the mass begins to glow,
although sometimes dark masses, if they are close to stars, will glow
with reflected starlight. The gaseous clouds are devoid of solid or
liquid matter, and consist, the spectroscope shows, of glowing gases,
apparently nebulium and hydrogen. Thus the Nebula of Orion, which is a
gaseous nebula, is never spoken of as a "universe," like the Nebula of
Andromeda, which may be resolved into stars.
[Figure 117: THE DARK BAY OR DARK HORSE NEBULA IN ORION.
Photograph by Mount Wilson Observatory through the 100-inch
Hooker telescope.]
The finest example of an irregular nebula is the Nebula of Orion; of a
ring nebula, that found in the constellation of Lyra; and of a spiral
nebula, the one found in the constellation of Canes Venatici, just below
the handle of the Big Dipper. The spiral of Andromeda, which is turned
edgewise to the earth, is the largest nebula in the sky.
ORION'S TWO DOGS--CANIS MAJOR AND CANIS MINOR
Canis Major, the "Great Dog" of Orion, lies in a straight line southeast
of his Belt Stars. Canis Minor, his "Small Dog," lies across the Milky
Way, 20 degrees northeast of Betelgeuse, the pink star on his shoulder.
The three stars form a large and easily traced triangle.
Canis Minor is usually pictured as a Spaniel standing on the bank of the
Milky Way and gazing across its river of stars at the giant Orion with
his club upraised against the Bull. Although this dog is usually said to
be Orion's dog, it is sometimes claimed to be one of Diana's hounds that
followed her in the hunt. Other legends claim that Canis Minor was the
dog of Icarus who discovered the slaying of his master by the shepherds
of Attica and for this was placed among the stars. Procyon, the
brightest star in this constellation, is called the "Little Dog's
Star." It appears above the eastern horizon on the 23rd of January just
after darkness, and shines for about half an hour before Sirius appears
upon the scene.
[Figure 118]
Sirius is the head star of Canis Major and the brightest star in the
sky. This dog sits at the feet of Orion watching Lepus, the Hare.
TAURUS, THE BULL
[Figure 119]
"Aries glorious in his golden wool,
Looks back and wonders at the mighty Bull."
--_Manilius._
This is the bull that Orion chases backwards across the winter's sky,
although only his foremost portion is visible among the stars. The rest
of this creature might be imagined as hidden behind a cloud; but no,
mythologists say the other half is immersed beneath the waves of the
sea. Beneath the waves of the sea! It looks to us as if he were
defending himself with considerable gusto against the advance of
Orion, for did we not see him clamber backwards up the slope in the east
only an hour and a half ahead of the giant who rose with his star club
lifted menacingly above his head?
"Thy hoofs, unwilling, climb the sphery vault;
Thy red eye trembles in an angry glare,
When the hounds follow, and in fierce assault
Bay through the fringes of the lion's hair."
--_Bayard Taylor._
If thus engaged, why was Taurus placed in the sky with a little
cross-section of the sea about him? It was quite likely, we find, to
preserve a note on the following legend:
Jupiter, the great ruler of Olympus, once changed himself into a
snow-white bull. Such baffling disguises were the delight of this god
when he had some particular object in view. This particular time he
wished to carry off Europa, Princess of Phœnicia. He found the Princess
playing in the meadow
"joyous, fresh, with roses bound
About her sunny head, and on her cheek
The glow of morn."
and placing himself conspicuously amongst the scenery, he soon caught
her attention.
As soon as Europa spied this strange, white, gentle-appearing creature,
she ran over to it, caressed it, and finally climbed upon its back. No
sooner had she done this, than the bull, gathering the speed of the
wind, ran to the sea-shore, plunged into the waves, and swam to the
Island of Crete.
"Sweet Europa's mantle blew unclasp'd
From off her shoulders backward borne;
"From one hand droop'd a crocus; one hand clasp'd
The mild bull's golden horn."
--_Tennyson._
This little Princess gave her name to the continent of Europe and the
white bull was placed among the constellations.
Thus a plausible explanation is found for but half of the bull being
shown among the stars--he is carrying Europa across the waves--then we
look on his starry mane and find--not sweet little Europa clinging
there, but seven lithesome maidens! These are represented by a lovely
group of stars called the Pleiades. How does this happen? Well, that is
another story.
One day, while hunting, Orion came suddenly upon seven graceful sisters
dancing on the mossy turf in the woodland. He watched entranced until
the happy creatures noticed him, and filled with terror at his gigantic
stature, turned and fled.
[Figure 120]
For five long years they ran, with Orion close behind, until weary and
distressed they begged the gods for aid.
Then Orion saw the maidens vanish as seven fluttering doves which flew
far up into the sunlit sky. That evening Diana saw them, and telling
them to keep up heart, drove her moon-chariot past Olympus where she
directed Jupiter's attention to the unfortunate plight of the maidens.
Jupiter then changed the doves to stars and placed them on the back of
Taurus, the Bull. Here they rest protected by a pair of golden horns,
secure but still pale, for every winter's evening just as surely as they
rise above the horizon, up comes Orion just a little way behind
and pursues the Bull across the heavens with his dogs and club.
Æschylus, however, claims that the Pleiades were named after the
daughters of Atlas because of their touching sorrow when their father
was laden with the weight of the sky. Thus many of the stories of
Orion's adventures seem to conflict with other fables. Since the stars
of the Pleiades bear the individual names of seven of Atlas's daughters,
Æschylus was probably right. The stars outlining the face of Taurus
were named after the half-sisters of the Pleiades and are called the
Hyades.
THE HYADES
[Figure 121]
The group of five stars which deck the face of the mythological Bull
have the individual names of Phaola, Ambrosia, Eudora, Coronis and
Pholyxo. However these names are rarely, if ever, used and the bright
red star at the top of the V is generally known as Aldebaran, the name
given it by the Arabian astronomers.
During ancient times there was a certain amount of ill-feeling directed
toward the Hyades, just as in the case of the "mad stars" in Auriga, for
it was thought that since this group of stars rose in November when the
stormy weather usually began they exerted an unsettling influence on the
atmosphere, which caused rain. The word itself is derived from the Greek
word meaning rain.
"Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea."
--_Tennyson._
In April when the Hyades set they also "Vext the dim sea" so by watching
these stars the ancients were forewarned when the stormy weather
and rain was at hand. Hesiod, who gave the ancient world one of its most
famous poems, "Works and Days," mentions that when the Hyades are near
the horizon they seem to disturb the calm of the waters and when the
"Pleiades, Hyades and Orion set, it is time to plow again. But not to go
to sea!" Aratus further warned the seamen at this point by reminding
them that only a thin plank separates the sailor from Hades.
Kippax remarks that the "watery" or "moist" reputation of the Hyades may
be due partly to the legend that the sisters were metamorphosed into
stars for immoderately bewailing the fate of their brother Hyas who had
been killed by a wild boar. Perhaps the sisters still think of Hyas when
near the horizon and their unrestrained tears pour in floods upon the
earth. But according to another legend, the Hyades were cloud nymphs and
it was their nature to be incessantly weeping.
The beautiful, rose-colored star Aldebaran, "the eye of the Bull,"
flashes on the end of this V of stars. Like Antares, Betelgeuse and the
planet Mars, its rare and colorful light shines like a beacon among the
gold and silver of more somber stars.
Aldebaran is a much larger sun than ours and gives 45 times as much
light. What a contrast to our sun with its sunflower shade would be this
one of a wild-rose pink! But the restful greens of little earth are much
to be preferred, with Aldebaran a star in the heavens, 28 light years
away.
A little to the west and north of the star, on the tip of the southern
horn of Taurus, lies the "Crab Nebula," so-called on account of its
resemblance to a crab. This nebula is often mistaken for a comet. The
two horns of the Bull reach over into the Milky Way, just below Capella.
The star group of the Hyades rises a little north of east about 12 P. M.
in September. By the first of November they are all rising as early as 8
P. M. and by the latter part of January are directly in the south.
At such a time, they have been picturesquely likened to a "flock of wild
geese flying southward."
Even so small a glass as an opera-glass will disclose a rich field of
small stars about Taurus. These stars look as if they had been shuffled
and had fallen together in interesting little groups of lights, which
are very pleasing to the eye.
THE PLEIADES
[Figure 122]
The Pleiades are visible from August until May. Five of the stars in
this group may be plainly seen although most people can see six and many
with keen eyesight can see seven and even nine. The telescope reveals
about 3000 more surrounding the group which gives the appearance of
mistiness in the vicinity of each star. These stars fill a space in the
heavens equal to about 180 millions of millions of miles!
The five more important stars of the Pleiades lie in the form of a
short-handled dipper. This is the fourth clearly marked dipper found in
the sky--the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, the Milk Dipper and the
Dipper of the Pleiades. These stars are also, with the Hyades, Præsepe,
Coma Berenices and the cluster on the Sword Handle of Perseus, among the
few clusters visible to the unaided eye.
"Small is the place that holds them and singly they dimly shine."
--_Aratus._
Seven of the stars in the Pleiad group, named after the daughters of
Atlas, are called Alcyone, Merope, Electra, Celæno, Taygeta, Maia and
Asterope. Two other stars were named after the father Atlas and the
mother Pleione. The Hyades and the Pleiades, or the twelve sisters which
Taurus carries across the sky every winter's evening, are altogether
called "The Atlantides." Atlas, by the way, also gave his name to the
second largest body of water on earth, the Atlantic Ocean.
[Figure 123: NEBULOSITY IN THE PLEIADES.
Photograph by Yerkes Observatory through the 40-inch refracting
telescope.]
Since the Pleiad group may be seen from every civilized country in the
world, the stars have a host of legends, songs and stories twined about
them. One idea, however, has run like a herald through all these widely
separated countries and that is that one of the stars of the Pleiades
was lost and that there were originally seven bright stars.
[Figure 124: The "Little Dipper of the Pleiades."]
Although it is generally agreed that one of the Pleiads was lost,
opinions seem to differ as to whether it was Electra or Merope as these
two sisters had earthly reasons for sorrow; Merope, for instance, hiding
embarrassed because she had married a mortal when all of her sisters had
married gods. Another legend claims that it was Pleione, mother of the
seven sisters, who was lost. Pickering, taking a practical view,
believes that the true "Lost Pleiad" was Pleione, for the spectroscope
reveals her star to be a variable star.
To the ancient people of Greece who taught even their children how to
tell the time of the day by the position of the sun and what to do
when certain stars rose and set, it would have been unpardonable not to
have known the Pleiades. They thought that the gods had set the stars in
the sky to keep the people from living in confusion. Thus Jupiter tells
"when the land
Must be upturned by ploughshare or by spade--
What time to plant the olive or the vine--
What time to fling on earth the golden grain.
For He it was who scattered o'er the sky
The shining stars, and fixed them where they are--
Provided constellations through the year,
To mark the seasons in their changeless course."
--_Aratus._
The farmer and the sailor, especially, watched the rising and
the setting of the stars and abided by the advice in Hesiod's
"Works and Days":
"when the snail, in fear of the Pleiades, climbs up the young plants,
sharpen your sickle for the harvest--"
"At the rising of the Atlas-born Pleiades begin harvesting but
plowing when they set."
"When Atlas-born, the Pleiad stars arise
Before the sun above the dawning skies,
'Tis time to reap; and when they sink below
The mom-illumined west, 'tis time to sow."
The rising of Orion an hour and a half later was also a sign from heaven
that the season for threshing had arrived.
"Forget not when Orion first appears
To make your servants thresh the sacred ears."
But when the giant is in midheaven it is time for vintage. At this time
Orion has backed the Bull pretty far over in the west and the
Greeks watch the frightened Pleiades drop into the sea. It is now a
dangerous time for small crafts to venture forth.
"When the Pleiades, fleeing the mighty strength of Orion, fall into
the murky sea"
make the boats secure for the sailing season is over.
"The Pleiads and Hiads make the seasons,
The Dogstarre maketh the heat of Sommer."
--1507, _Golding De Mornay._
Yet the people around the Mediterranean were not the only ones who
considered the importance of these stars. Spence in "Myths of Mexico and
Peru" tells with what trepidation the ancient Mexican people watched,
every period of 52 years, the passage of these stars across the zenith.
"With the conclusion of each period of fifty-two years a terrible dread
came upon the Mexicans that the world would come to an end. A stated
period of time had expired, a period which was regarded as fixed by
divine command, and it had been ordained that on the completion of one
of those series of fifty-two years earthly time would cease and the
universe be demolished. The Mexicans then abandoned themselves to utmost
prostration and the wicked went about in terrible fear. As the first day
of the fifty-third year dawned the people narrowly observed the
Pleiades, for if they passed the zenith, time would proceed and the
world would become respited."
Perhaps the reason for periodical recurrence of this fear lay in the old
Mexican tradition that the world was once destroyed when the Pleiades
culminated at midnight.
Poets in all lands have sung the praises of the Pleiad stars. Probably
the most quoted are those from Tennyson's "Locksley Hall." These are so
truly beautiful that one almost involuntarily repeats them whenever the
huge giant Orion or this lovely star group comes into view.
"Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest
Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the west.
"Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through the mellow shade,
Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid."
And Bayard Taylor speaks of
"The stars that once were mortal in their love,
And by their love are made immortal now,
Cluster like golden bees upon thy mane."
The poets, with their magic words, make the stars seem close to us,
despite the fact that science tells us that the Pleiades, for instance,
lie so far away in space that it takes 200 years for their light to
reach the earth.
Since December, when Orion and Taurus are at their best, is the month of
beautiful stars, let us look around the heavens and see how many of them
we are able to recognize.
From the far northeast to the far northwest, passing just a little north
of the zenith, the Milky Way stretches in one continuous line of
splendor. Up and down the heavenly vault, hundreds of diamond-like
little stars glitter like gleams from pinholes in heaven, while the
large stars hang down through the cold, black nights almost within
reaching distance. One may now count ten brilliant stars of the first
magnitude, but the configuration of stars which forms the constellation
of Orion and the peerless Dog Star, Sirius, are the stars which hold the
eye. Watch the Dog Star rise in the east about 9 o'clock during the
first part of December or about 8 o'clock later in the month. If all the
other stars burn like wind-enflamed jewels, Sirius sputters and sparkles
like a bonfire of Jupiter's lightning rods.
Across the Milky Way from Sirius, the yellow star Procyon, the head-star
on the Little Dog, is also appearing, while in the west, two large stars
are setting, the scene being almost duplicated. Thus, paraphrasing
the words of the ancient poet Aratus, "when the Dogs appear in the east,
the Birds set in the west."
Above Procyon, and on the same side of the Milky Way, shine Castor and
Pollux, the Heavenly Twins, seemingly with an eye on the battle of the
Giant and the red-eyed Bull; above the Bull's horns glows Capella,
always an attractive star but not as radiant when near the meridian as
when rising in the east. This is also true of Cassiopeia's Chair, now in
the zenith, and of the Segment of Perseus, the Chain of Andromeda and
the Square of Pegasus, which lie just below her.
[Figure 125: The December Sky.]
The Cross is now descending in the west, closely following Vega and
Altair, while low in the southwest, Formalhaut is just about to
disappear below our view. The North Star shines, as always, in its fixed
place in the sky, but Ursa Minor now hangs perilously by the tip of his
tail with nothing between him and the northern horizon but the
straggling form of Draco and the brightly decorated tail of Ursa Major.
Ursa Major is just about ready to climb the eastern slope and patiently
continue on his endless circle around the pole. Along the southern
horizon, the stars are faint, for here lies Cetus, the dark-sided
Sea-monster, and the glints on the river Eridanus which rolls down to
the 'Sea.'
CASTOR AND POLLUX
[Figure 126]
According to legendary history, Castor and Pollux were the sons of Leda
and the brothers of Helen of Troy. These twins were noted near and far
for their bravery and had divine honors paid to them both in Sparta and
in Rome. Their boyhood days were spent on Mount Pelion under the
guidance of the wise centaur Chiron, but they spent most of their
manhood adventuring, one of their best known exploits being the journey
after the Golden Fleece on the ship Argo. During this journey a great
storm arose and the frail little bark, whose only power was its fifty
oars and the strong arms of the heroes, was tossed about like a shell.
Orpheus, with his magic harp, sought to calm the waters and soothe the
fears of the oarsmen, and had just about succeeded when two stars
suddenly shone above the heads of the twins. This, of course, was static
electricity, which sometimes appears like two stars of light attaching
itself to each mast, but the Greeks considered it a sign from Jupiter
that all was well and that there was nothing to fear from the storm. The
Argo went on in safety, and ever after lights at the mastheads were
called "Castor and Pollux" and sailors predict fair weather from their
appearance.
"The Greeks called them Castor and Pollux--which some call Hermes fire;
Saint Elmo others."
--_Sir T. Herbert._
Sometimes, however, but one light is seen. This is then called "Helena,"
after their sister, and is regarded as foreboding a storm.
As a reward for their great affection (for the twins even shared their
immortality together since only one was immortal), Jupiter placed them
among the stars under the name of Gemini, and the two bright stars in
this constellation were placed upon their brows. Sailors love these
stars for they are well above the eastern horizon during the first part
of January and are visible during the remainder of the stormy season of
the year. They watch them and know that if both stars are visible at the
same time, the weather is clearing.
"Thus the twins, indulgent save
The shatter'd vessel from the wave."
--_Idyllium_ XXII (FAWKE'S _Trans._)
If the storm continues to rage and the stars remain hidden behind
the clouds
"sailors trembling
Call on the twins of Jove with prayer and vow."
--_Shelley._
Gemini, the constellation of the Twins, lies near the stream of the
Milky Way, just above Procyon, below Capella, and in front of Leo, the
Lion. The feet of the Twins are among the stars at the edge of the
stream, while their heads extend northeast, in the same general
direction as the horns of Taurus, the Bull, which are thrust into the
stream on the other side. The Twins have no connection with the story of
Orion and the Bull, although their constellation is so situated that one
might consider them as interested spectators.
The stars on the brows of the Twins are not exactly twin stars for one
is brighter than the other and, although they look much alike to the
unaided eye, a telescope reveals their delicate colors. The star on
Pollux is then seen to be a pale orange while that on Castor is a
greenish-white. Pollux is also a triple star, described by one
observer as "pale orange, lilac and gray." Castor is equally
interesting, for a 3-inch telescope resolves it into two brilliant
stars.
[Figure 127]
The spectroscope, making further discoveries, disclosed the fact that a
companion whirls around the fainter component, completing its orbit in 3
days, while the brighter component also has a companion which completes
its orbit in 9 days. These four stars, which form the star we call
Castor, revolve in pairs about a common center of gravity, completing
their period in about 900 years.
The Heavenly Twins claim a unique distinction--that of having a planet
found at their feet; Sir William Herschel, an English astronomer, has
the equally unique distinction of having found the planet. This planet
was surely an odd and interesting thing for a mortal to discover for it
is not only a gaseous globe 32,000 miles in diameter, but its pole
points almost at the sun at one time in its 84-year journey, causing it
to have 42 years of daylight and 42 years of night! This was the first
planet added to the five known since antiquity and its discovery was a
joyful surprise. The boundary line of the solar system was now greatly
increased for Uranus travels in an orbit which lies at an average
distance of 1,771,000,000 miles from the sun. In accordance with the
ancient custom of naming the planets after the immortals on Mount
Olympus, the planet was named Uranus, after the God of the starry sky.
A wonderful star cluster was later discovered also at the feet of the
Twins,--a little northwest of the feet of Castor. This is designated at
34M on star-maps and may be located in the sky even with a field-glass.
Castor and Pollux may be found a little south of the zenith during the
evenings of February and March. Castor, which is the higher star, passes
the meridian first, but Pollux, the brighter star, passes it 11
minutes later. They are sometimes called "Ledæan lights" in honor of
Leda, their mother. Owen Meredith in "The Wanderer" says
"The lone Ledæan lights from yon enchanted air,
Look down upon my spirit like spirit's eyes that love me."
[Figure 128]
Because of their nearness and similarity to one another, old English
people sometimes call them the "Giant's Eyes."
We have now covered the most important constellations and have seen that
a little knowledge of romance, beauty, story and fact add wonderfully to
the spectacle of a heaven filled with stars. The thrill of rediscovery
is for every individual who learns a little science; the romance and
beauty for every heart which feels a little song.
From an open plain, the boundless sea, or the solitude of a mountain,
the stars seem to hold their greatest appeal. If one knows the
name of a star or two, one will find, as in "The Wanderer," a
comradeship that is comforting.
[Figure 129: Relative positions of the constellations "grouped about the
pole," those appearing in "the story of Andromeda," the "Spring and
Summer Pageant," and the "story of Orion and Taurus, the Bull."]
Bayard Taylor, who often wrote about the stars, looked up, in a foreign
land, and saw "Above the palms, the peaks of pearly gray," Canopus, a
star of the southern hemisphere, only surpassed by Sirius.
"An urn of light, a golden-hearted torch,
Voluptuous, drowsy-throbbing mid the stars,
As, incense-fed, from Aphrodite's porch
Lifted to beacon Mars."
Then--
"Ah, bliss to lie beside the jasper urn
Of founts, and through the open arabesque
To watch Canopus burn!"
Let us face the heavens and dream for a moment, forget the earth--let
it drop away--just drift and dream.
"Ring out, ye crystal spheres!
Once bless our human ears
(If ye have power to charm our senses so;)
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time,
(And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow;)
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full concert with angelic symphony."
--_Milton._
How rapturously the poets have dwelt upon the music of the crystalline
spheres! How sad that the volume of it was so excessive that the ear
could not hear it! And great it must have been with the whirr of a globe
so huge that it contained eight concentric crystalline spheres whirling
around every twenty-four hours and resounding with the stars as they
rolled in their orbits.
This idea of the crystal spheres of ancient astronomy was beautifully
described by Milton in "Paradise Lost." Milton believed without a doubt
in the theories of Copernicus who taught that the sun was a center of a
system of planets which revolved about it at various distances, but he
probably used this old conception of the universe because it gave him
more artistic freedom in the writing of his great epic poem. Let us
pursue this fascinating theme, while drifting and dreaming, and see in
what way the great poet painted it in as a background for his story.
Milton pictured the boundless cosmos as divided into two parts--the
"resplendent Kingdom of Heaven" which rested in brightness above, and
the "turbulent darkness of Chaos" which surged in blackness below. Our
"cheerful sun-illumined Universe" was thought to be contained in an
opaque sphere which hung from the floor of Heaven by a golden chain. At
the rebellion of Satan and his rebel followers, God hurled them
through the floor of Heaven and down through the darkness of
immeasurable space to a place in Chaos hollowed out to receive them.
This place contained such dire discomforts that Satan in his wrath swore
revenge.
Satan had heard that in order to hollow out this awful place in Chaos,
the ether, which was believed to fill all space, flew upward
"spirited with various forms,
That rowl'd orbicular, and turned to starrs."
the stars walling-in a Universe which was to contain a dwelling place
for a new race which might eventually take the place of the rebels cast
from Heaven. The stars were then surrounded by a translucent shell which
protected this new creation from the cold and tempests of outer space.
Satan searched long and ardently through the darkness for this splendid
ball of light. Finally he found it, hanging on its golden chain from
Heaven, and, descending within by the radiant stairway of the angels,
passed the stars and the planets in their sliding spheres of impalpable
crystal, and discovered the earth, radiant in the brightness of the sun!
Of the further adventures of Satan we need not speak, but the handling
of the whole subject is masterly and brought to Milton undying fame.
The idea of the crystalline spheres first came to Eudoxus in the 4th
century B. C. from watching the movements of the planets among the stars.
He imagined that there must be nine of these hollow, transparent globes
enclosed one within the other and surrounding the quiescent body of the
earth; first, the "primum mobile," which carried around all the inner
spheres and communicated to them a universal motion, next a sphere for
all the stars, then one for the sun, one for the moon, and one for each
of the five planets then known. These spheres were conceived to be of
the finest crystal, for past the wandering stars or planets, the
light came penetrating from that distant sphere studded with stars.
The daily movements of these stars were watched as they were carried
along on their spheres, and it was seen that they moved in law and
order. Noting that the planets seemed to be placed at intervals
corresponding to the scale in music and being at the same time greatly
impressed with the discovery that music was based on mathematics, he
beautifully combined these discoveries and arrived at the entrancing
conclusion that so great and orderly a movement of so many crystal
spheres must give forth strains which united in a wonderful harmony of
incredible volume and sweetness. The picture is enchanting--a beautiful
world set in the midst of whirling, star-gemmed, crystalline globes,
which by their motion, create a melody so divine that it may only be
heard by the gods!
With the advent of modern science, our thoughts now wing their way
through unobstructed star spaces of once crystalline spheres, to the
great space beyond, and find in the void of what the ancients termed
"chaos," not one "sun-illuminated" universe but millions of them, some
so distant that they appear no more than a filmy mist on a petal or a
ghost of a fairy cloud!
To the true lover of the stars, one universe or a million makes not a
whit of difference. The silent song of the heavens is as sweet today,
its mystery as alluring, its delights more marvelous, than in the days
of yore when planets rolled out heavenly notes and stars shone through
the seven spheres of pure, translucent crystal.