These fears and terrors are still extant among ignorant peoples. In the night of February 27, 1877, an eclipse of the Moon produced an indescribable panic among the inhabitants of Laos (Indo-China). In order to frighten off the Black Dragon, the natives fired shots at the half-devoured orb, accompanying their volley with the most appalling yells. Dr. Harmand has memorialized the scene in the lively sketch given on p. 269.

During the solar eclipse of March 15, 1877, an a.n.a.logous scene occurred among the Turks, who for the moment forgot their preparations for war with Russia, in order to shoot at the Sun, and deliver him from the toils of the Dragon.

The lunar eclipse of December 16, 1880, was not unnoticed at Tackhent (Russian Turkestan), where it was received with a terrific din of saucepans, samovars and various implements struck together again and again by willing hands that sought to deliver the Moon from the demon Tchaitan who was devouring her.

In China, eclipses are the object of imposing ceremonies, whose object is to reestablish the regularity of the celestial motions. Since the Emperor is regarded as the Son of Heaven, his government must in some sort be a reflection of the immutable order of the sidereal harmonies.

As eclipses were regarded by astrologers as disturbances of the divine order, their appearance indicates some irregularity in the government of the Celestial Empire. Accordingly, they are received with all kinds of expiatory ceremonies prescribed thousands of years ago, and still in force to-day.

In the twentieth century, as in the nineteenth, the eighteenth, or in ancient epochs, the same awe and terror operates upon the ignorant populations who abound upon the surface of our planet.

To return to astronomical realities.

We said above that these phenomena were produced when the Full Moon and the New Moon reached the line of intersection, known as the line of nodes, when the plane of the lunar orbit cuts the plane of the ecliptic.

As this line turns and comes back in the same direction relatively to the Sun at the end of eighteen years, eleven days, we have only to register the eclipses observed during this period in order to know all that will occur in the future, and to find such as happened in the past.

This period was known to the Greeks under the name of the Metonic Cycle, and the Chaldeans employed it three thousand years ago under the name of Saros.

On examining this cycle, composed of 223 lunations, we see that there can not be more than seven eclipses in one year, nor less than two. When there are only two, they are eclipses of the Sun.

The totality of a solar eclipse can not last more than seven minutes, fifty-eight seconds at the equator, and six minutes, ten seconds in the lat.i.tude of Paris. The Moon, on the contrary, may be entirely eclipsed for nearly two hours.

Eclipses of the Sun are very rare for a definite spot. Thus not one occurred for Paris during the whole of the nineteenth century, the last which happened exactly above the capital of France having been on May 22, 1724. I have calculated all those for the twentieth century, and find that two will take place close to Paris, on April 17, 1912, at eighteen minutes past noon (total for Choisy-le-Roi, Longjumeau, and Dourdan, but very brief: seven seconds), and August 11, 1999, at 10.28 A.M. (total for Beauvais, Compiegne, Amiens, St. Quentin, fairly long: two minutes, seventeen seconds). Paris itself will not be favored before August 12, 2026. In order to witness the phenomenon, one must go and look for it. This the author did on May 28, 1900, in Spain.

The progress of the lunar shadow upon the surface of the Earth is traced beforehand on maps that serve to show the favored countries for which our satellite will dispense her ephemeral night. The above figure shows the trajectory of the total phase of the 1900 eclipse in Portugal, Spain, Algeria, and Tunis.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 77.--The path of the Eclipse of May 28, 1900.]

The immutable splendor of the celestial motions had never struck the author so impressively as during the observation of this grandiose phenomenon. With the absolute precision of astronomical calculations, our satellite, gravitating round the Earth, arrived upon the theoretical line drawn from the orb of day to our planet, and interposed itself gradually, slowly, and exactly, in front of it. The eclipse was total, and occurred at the moment predicted by calculation. Then the obscure globe of the Moon pursued its regular course, discovered the radiant orb behind, and gradually and slowly completed its transit in front of him.

Here, to all observers, was a double philosophical lesson, a twofold impression: that of the greatness, the omnipotence of the inexorable forces that govern the universe, and that of the inexorable valor of man, of this thinking atom straying upon another atom, who by the travail of his feeble intelligence has arrived at the knowledge of the laws by which he, like the rest of the world, is borne away through s.p.a.ce, through time, and through eternity.

The line of centrality pa.s.sed through Elche, a picturesque city of 30,000 inhabitants, not far from Alicante, and we had chosen this for our station on account of the probability of fine weather.

From the terrace of the country house of the hospitable Mayor, a farm transformed into an observatory by our learned friend, Count de la Baume Pluvinel, there were no obstacles between ourselves and any part of the sky or landscape. The whole horizon lay before us. In front was a town of Arab aspect framed in a lovely oasis of palm-trees; a little farther off, the blue sea beyond the sh.o.r.es of Alicante and Murcia: on the other side a belt of low mountains, and near us fields and gardens. A Company of the Civic Guard kept order, and prevented the entrance of too many curious visitors, of whom over ten thousand had arrived.

At the moment when the first contact of the lunar disk with the solar disk was observed in the telescope, we fired a gun, in order to announce the precise commencement of the occultation to the 40,000 persons who were awaiting the phenomenon, and to discover what difference would exist between this telescopic observation and those made with the unaided eyes (protected simply by a bit of smoked gla.s.s) of so many improvised spectators. This had already been done by Arago at Perpignan in 1842. The verification was almost immediate for the majority of eyes, and may be estimated at eight or ten seconds. So that the commencement of the eclipse was confirmed almost as promptly for the eye as with the astronomical instruments.

The sky was splendidly clear; no cloud, no mist, deep blue; blazing Sun.

The first period of the eclipse showed nothing particular. It is only from the moment when more than half the solar disk is covered by the lunar disk that the phenomenon is imposing in its grandeur. At this phase, I called the attention of the people standing in the court to the visibility of the stars, and indicating the place of Venus in the sky asked if any with long sight could perceive her. Eight at once responded in the affirmative. It should be said that the planet was at that time at its period of maximum brilliancy, when for observers blessed with good sight, it is always visible to the unaided eye.

When some three-quarters of the Sun were eclipsed, the pigeons which had flown back to the farm huddled into a corner, and made no further movement. They told me that evening that the fowls had done the same a little later, returning to the hen-house as though it had been night, and that the small children (who were very numerous at Elche, where the population is certainly not diminishing) left off their games, and came back to their mothers' skirts. The birds flew anxiously to their nests.

The ants in one garden were excessively agitated, no doubt disconcerted in their strategics. The bats came out.

A few days before the eclipse I had prepared the inhabitants of this part of Spain for the observation of the phenomenon by the following description, which sums up the previous accounts of the astronomers:

"The spectacle of a total eclipse of the Sun is one of the most magnificent and imposing that it is possible to see in nature. At the exact moment indicated by calculation, the Moon arrives in front of the Sun, eats into it gradually, and at last entirely covers it. The light of the day lessens and is transformed. A sense of oppression is felt by all nature, the birds are hushed, the dog takes refuge with his master, the chickens hide beneath their mother's wing, the wind drops, the temperature falls, an appalling stillness is everywhere perceptible, as though the universe were on the verge of some imminent catastrophe.

Men's faces a.s.sume a cadaverous hue similar to that given at night by the flame of spirits of wine and salt, a livid funereal light, the sinister illumination of the world's last hour.

"At the moment when the last line of the solar crescent disappears, we see, instead of the Sun, a black disk surrounded with a splendid luminous aureole shooting immense jets into s.p.a.ce, with roseate flames burning at the base.

"A sudden night has fallen on us, a weird, wan night in which the brightest of the stars are visible in the Heavens. The spectacle is splendid, grandiose, solemn, and sublime."

This impression was actually felt by us all, as may be seen from the following notes, written in my schedule of observation during the event, or immediately after:

"3.50 P.M. Light very weak, sky leaden gray, mountains standing out with remarkable clearness from the horizon, and seeming to approach us.

"3.55 P.M. Fall of temperature very apparent. Cold wind blowing through the atmosphere.

"3.56 P.M. Profound silence through nature, which seems to partic.i.p.ate in the celestial phenomenon. Silence in all the groups.

"3.57 P.M. Light considerably diminished, becoming wan, strange, and sinister. Landscape leaden gray, sea looks black. This diminution of light is not that of every day after the sunset. There is, as it were, a tint of sadness spread over the whole of nature. One becomes accustomed to it, and yet while we know that the occultation of the Sun by the Moon is a natural phenomenon, we can not escape a certain sense of uneasiness. The approach of some extraordinary spectacle is imminent."

At this point we examined the effects of the solar light upon the seven colors of the spectrum. In order to determine as accurately as possible the tonality of the light of the eclipse, I had prepared seven great sheets, each painted boldly in the colors of the spectrum, violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, red; and a similar series in pieces of silk. These colors were laid at our feet upon the terrace where my wife, as well as Countess de la Baume, were watching with me. We then saw the first four disappear successively and entirely and turn black in a few seconds, in the following order: violet, indigo, blue, green. The three other colors were considerably attenuated by the darkness, but remained visible.

It should be noted that in the normal order of things--that is, every evening--the contrary appears; violet remains visible after the red.

This experiment shows that the last light emitted by the eclipsed Sun belongs to the least refrangible rays, to the greatest wave-lengths, to the slowest vibrations, to the yellow and red rays. Such therefore is the predominating color of the solar atmosphere.

This experiment completed, we turn back to the Sun. Magical and splendid spectacle! Totality has commenced, the Sun has disappeared, the black disk of the Moon covers it entirely, leaving all round it a magnificent corona of dazzling light. One would suppose it to be an annular eclipse, with the difference that this can be observed with the naked eye, without fatigue to the retina, and drawn quietly.

This luminous coronal atmosphere entirely surrounds the solar disk, at a pretty equal depth, equivalent to about the third of half the solar diameter. It may be regarded as the Sun's atmosphere.

Beyond this corona is an aureole, of vaster glory but less luminous, which sends out long plumes, princ.i.p.ally in the direction of the equatorial zone of the Sun, and of the belt of activity of the spots and prominences.

At the summit of the disk it is conical in shape. Below it is double, and its right-hand portion ends in a point, not far from Mercury, which shines like a dazzling star of first magnitude, and seems placed there expressly to give us the extent and direction of the solar aureole.

I draw these various aspects (which, moreover, change with the movement of the Moon), and what strikes me most is the distinction in light between this aureole and the coronal atmosphere; the latter appears to be a brilliant silvery white, the former is grayer and certainly less dense.

My impression is that there are _two solar envelopes of entirely different nature_, the corona belonging to the globe of the Sun, and forming its atmosphere properly so-called, very luminous; the aureole formed of particles that circulate independently round it, probably arising from eruptions, their form as a whole being possibly due to electric or magnetic forces, counterbalanced by resistances of various natures. In our own atmosphere the volcanic eruptions are distinct from the aerial envelope.

The general configuration of this external halo, spreading more particularly in the equatorial zone, is sufficiently like that of the eclipse of 1889, published in my _Popular Astronomy_, which also corresponded with a minimum of solar energy. The year 1900 is in fact close upon the minimum of the eleven-year period. This equatorial form is, moreover, what all the astronomers were expecting.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 78.--Total eclipse of the Sun, May 28, 1900, as observed from Elche (Spain).]

There can no longer be the slightest doubt that the solar envelope varies with the activity of the Sun....

"But the total eclipse lasted a much shorter time than I have taken to write these lines. The seventy-nine seconds of totality are over. A dazzling light bursts from the Sun, and tells that the Moon pursuing its...o...b..t has left it. The splendid sight is over. It has gone like a shadow.

"Already over! It is almost a disillusion. Nothing beautiful lasts in this world. Too sad! If only the celestial spectacle could have lasted two, three, or four minutes! It was too short....

"Alas! we are forced to take things as they are.

"The surprise, the oppression, the terror of some, the universal silence are over. The Sun reappears in his splendor, and the life of nature resumes its momentarily suspended course.

"While I was making my drawing, M. l'Abbe Moreux, my colleague from the Astronomical Society of France, who accompanied me to Spain for this observation, was taking one of his own, without any reciprocal communication. These two sketches are alike, and confirmatory.

"The differential thermometers that I exposed to the Sun, hanging freely, and protected from reflection from the ground, were read every five minutes. The black thermometer went down from 33.1 to 20.7, that is 12.4; the white from 29 to 20.2--that is, 8.8. The temperature in the shade only varied three degrees.

"The light received during totality was due: first, to the luminous envelope of the Sun; second, to that of the terrestrial atmosphere, illuminated at forty kilometers (twenty-five miles) on the one side and the other of the line of centrality. It appeared to be inferior to that of the Full Moon, on account of the almost sudden transition. But, in reality, it was more intense, for only first-magnitude stars were visible in the sky, whereas on a night of full moon, stars of second, and even of third magnitude are visible. We recognized, among others, Venus, Mercury, Sirius, Procyon, Capella, Rigel, Betelgeuse."