The prominences may be generally divided into two cla.s.ses. We have first those which are comparatively quiescent, and in form somewhat resemble the clouds which float in our earth's atmosphere. The second cla.s.s of prominences are best described as eruptive. They are, in fact, thrown up from the chromosphere like gigantic jets of incandescent material. These two cla.s.ses of objects differ not only in appearance but also in the gases of which they are composed. The cloud-like prominences consist mainly of hydrogen, with helium and calcium, while many metals are present in the eruptive discharges. The latter are never seen in the neighbourhood of the sun's poles, but generally appear close to a sun-spot, thus confirming the conclusion that the spots are a.s.sociated with violent disturbances on the surface of the sun. When a spot has reached the limb of the sun it is frequently found to be surrounded by prominences. It has even been possible in a few instances to detect powerful gaseous eruptions in the neighbourhood of a spot, the spectroscope rendering them visible against the background of the solar surface just as the prominences are observed at the limb against the background of the sky.

In order to photograph a prominence we have, of course, to subst.i.tute a photographic plate for the observer's eye. Owing, however, to the difficulty of preventing the feeble light from the prominence from being overpowered by extraneous light, the photography of these bodies was not very successful until Professor Hale, of Chicago, designed his spectro-heliograph. In this instrument there is (in addition to the usual slit through which the light falls on the prisms, or grating,) a second slit immediately in front of the photographic plate through which the light of a given wave-length can be permitted to pa.s.s to the exclusion of all the rest. The light chosen for producing an image of the prominences is that radiated in the remarkable "K line," due to calcium. This lies at the extreme end of the violet. The light from that part of the spectrum, though it is invisible to the eye, is much more active photographically than the light from the red, yellow, or green parts of the spectrum. The front slit is adjusted so that the K line falls upon the second slit, and as the front slit is slowly swept by clockwork over the whole of a prominence, the second slit keeps pace with it by a mechanical contrivance.

If the image of the solar disc is hidden by a screen of exactly the proper size, the slits may be made to sweep over the whole sun, thus giving us at one exposure a picture of the chromospheric ring round the sun's limb with its prominences. The screen may now be withdrawn, and the slits may be made to sweep rapidly over the disc itself. They reveal the existence of glowing calcium vapours in many parts of the surface of the sun. Thus we get a striking picture of the sun as drawn by this particular light. In this manner Professor Hale confirmed the observation made long before by Professor Young, that the spectra of faculae always show the two great calcium bands.

The velocity with which a prominence shoots upward from the sun's limb can, of course, be measured directly by observations of the ordinary kind with a micrometer. The spectroscope, however, enables us to estimate the speed with which disturbances at the surface of the sun travel in the direction towards the earth or from the earth. We can measure this speed by watching the peculiar behaviour of the spectral lines representing the rapidly moving ma.s.ses. This opens up a remarkable line of investigation with important applications in many branches of astronomy.

It is, of course, now generally understood that the sensation of light is caused by waves or undulations which impinge on the retina of the eye after having been transmitted through that medium which we call the ether. To the different colours correspond different wave-lengths--that is to say, different distances between two successive waves. A beam of white light is formed by the union of innumerable different waves whose lengths have almost every possible value lying between certain limits.

The wave-length of red light is such that there are 33,000 waves in an inch, while that of violet light is but little more than half that of red light. The position of a line in the spectrum depends solely on the wave-length of the light to which it is due. Suppose that the source of light is approaching directly towards the observer; obviously the waves follow each other more closely than if the source were at rest, and the number of undulations which his eye receives in a second must be proportionately increased. Thus the distance between two successive ether waves will be very slightly diminished. A well-known phenomenon of a similar character is the change of pitch of the whistle of a locomotive engine as it rushes past. This is particularly noticeable if the observer happens to be in a train which is moving rapidly in the opposite direction. In the case of sound, of course, the vibrations or waves take place in the air and not in the ether. But the effect of motion to or from the observer is strictly a.n.a.logous in the two cases.

As, however, light travels 186,000 miles a second, the source of light will also have to travel with a very high velocity in order to produce even the smallest perceptible change in the position of a spectral line.

We have already seen that enormously high velocities are by no means uncommon in some of these mighty disturbances on the sun; accordingly, when we examine the spectrum of a sun-spot, we often see that some of the lines are shifted a little towards one end of the spectrum and sometimes towards the other, while in other cases the lines are seen to be distorted or twisted in the most fantastic manner, indicating very violent local commotions. If the spot happens to be near the centre of the sun's disc, the gases must be shooting upwards or downwards to produce these changes in the lines. The velocities indicated in observations of this cla.s.s sometimes amount to as much as two or even three hundred miles per second. We find it difficult to conceive the enormous internal pressures which are required to impel such mighty ma.s.ses of gases aloft from the photosphere with speeds so terrific, or the conditions which bring about the downrush of such gigantic ma.s.ses of vapour from above. In the spectra of the prominences on the sun's limb also we often see the bright lines bent or shifted to one side. In such cases what we witness is evidently caused by movements along the surface of the chromosphere, conveying materials towards us or away from us.

An interesting application of this beautiful method of measuring the speed of moving bodies has been made in various attempts to determine the period of rotation of the sun spectroscopically. As the sun turns round on its axis, a point on the eastern limb is moving towards the observer and a point on the western limb is moving away from him. In each case the velocity is a little over a mile per second. At the eastern limb the lines in the solar spectrum are very slightly shifted towards the violet end of the spectrum, while the lines in the spectrum of the western limb are equally shifted towards the red end. By an ingenious optical contrivance it is possible to place the spectra from the two limbs side by side, which doubles the apparent displacement, and thus makes it much more easy to measure. Even with this contrivance the visual quant.i.ties to be measured remain exceedingly minute. All the parts of the instrument have to be most accurately adjusted, and the observations are correspondingly delicate. They have been attempted by various observers. Among the most successful investigations of this kind we may mention that of the Swedish astronomer, Duner, who, by pointing his instrument to a number of places on the limb, found values in good agreement with the peculiar law of rotation which has been deduced from the motion of sun-spots. This result is specially interesting, as it shows that the atmospheric layers, in which that absorption takes place which produces the dark lines in the spectrum, shares in the motion of the photosphere at the same lat.i.tude.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 20.--View of the Corona (and a Comet) in a Total Eclipse.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE V.

TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE, JULY 29TH, 1878.

THE CORONA FROM THE PHOTOGRAPHS.

(HARKNESS.)]

We have yet to mention one other striking phenomenon which is among the chief attractions to observers of total eclipses, and which it has. .h.i.therto not been found possible to see in full daylight. This is the corona or aureole of light which is suddenly seen to surround the sun in an eclipse when the moon has completely covered the last remaining crescent of the sun. A general idea of the appearance of the corona is given in Fig. 20, and we further present in Plate V. the drawing of the corona made by Professor Harkness from a comparison of a large number of photographs obtained at different places in the United States during the total eclipse of July 29th, 1878. In Fig. 21 we are permitted by the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Maunder to reproduce the remarkable photograph of the corona which they obtained in India during the eclipse of January 22nd, 1898.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 21.--View of Corona during the Eclipse of Jan. 22nd, 1898 (_Reproduced by kind permission of Mr. and Mrs. Maunder and of the proprietors of "Knowledge._")]

The part of the corona nearest the sun is very bright, though not so brilliant as the prominences, which (as Professor Young says) blaze through it like carbuncles. This inner portion is generally of fairly regular outline, forming a white ring about a tenth part of the solar diameter in width. The outer parts of the corona are usually very irregular and very extensive. They are often interrupted by narrow "rifts," or narrow dark bands, which reach from the limb of the sun through the entire corona. On the other hand, there are also sometimes narrow bright streamers, inclined at various angles to the limb of the sun and not seldom curved. In the eclipses of 1867, 1878, and 1889, all of which occurred at periods of sun-spot minimum, the corona showed long and faint streamers nearly in the direction of the sun's equator, and short but distinct brushes of light near the poles. In the eclipses of 1870, 1882, and 1893, near sun-spot maxima, the corona was more regularly circular, and chiefly developed over the spot zones. We have here another proof (if one were necessary) of the intimate connection between the periodicity of the spots and the development of all other solar phenomena.

In the spectrum of the corona there is a mysterious line in the green, as to the origin of which nothing is at present certainly known. It is best seen during eclipses occurring near the time of sun-spot maximum.

It is presented in the ordinary solar spectrum as a very thin, dark line, which generally remains undisturbed even when lines of hydrogen and other substances are twisted and distorted by the violent rush of disturbed elements. The line is always present among the bright lines of the chromosphere spectrum. In addition to it the corona shows a few other bright lines, belonging, no doubt, to the same unknown element ("coronium"), and also a faint continuous spectrum, in which even a few of the more prominent dark lines of the solar spectrum have been sometimes detected. This shows that in addition to glowing gas (represented by the bright lines) the corona also contains a great deal of matter like dust, or fog, the minute particles of which are capable of reflecting the sunlight and thereby producing a feeble continuous spectrum. This matter seems to form the princ.i.p.al const.i.tuent of the long coronal rays and streamers, as the latter are not visible in the detached images of the corona which appear instead of the bright lines when the corona is viewed, or photographed, during an eclipse, in a spectroscope without a slit. If the long rays were composed of the gas or gases which const.i.tute the inner corona, it is evident that they ought to appear in these detached images. As to the nature of the forces which are continually engaged in shooting out these enormously long streamers, we have at present but little information. It is, however, certain that the extensive atmospheric envelope round the sun, which shows itself as the inner corona, must be extremely attenuated. Comets have on several occasions been known to rush through this coronal atmosphere without evincing the slightest appreciable diminution in their speed from the resistance to which they were exposed.

We have acc.u.mulated by observation a great number of facts concerning the sun, but when we try to draw from these facts conclusions as to the physical const.i.tution of that great body, it cannot be denied that the difficulties seem to be very great indeed. We find that the best authorities differ considerably in the opinions they entertain as to its nature. We shall here set forth the princ.i.p.al conclusions as to which there is little or no controversy.

We shall see in a following chapter that astronomers have been able to determine the relative densities of the bodies in the solar system; in other words, they have found the relation between the quant.i.ties of matter contained in an equally large volume of each. It has thus been ascertained that the average density of the sun is about a quarter that of the earth. If we compare the weight of the sun with that of an equally great globe of water, we find that the luminary would be barely one and a half times as heavy as the water. Of course, the actual ma.s.s of the sun is very enormous; it is no less than 330,000 times as great as that of the earth. The solar material itself is, however, relatively light, so that the sun is four times as big as it would have to be if, while its weight remained the same, its density equalled that of the earth. Bearing in mind this lightness of the sun, and also the exceedingly high temperature which we know to prevail there, no other conclusion seems possible than that the body of the sun must be in a gaseous state. The conditions under which such gases exist in the sun are, no doubt, altogether different from those with which we are acquainted on the earth. At the surface of the sun the force of gravity is more than twenty-seven times as great as it is on the earth. A person who on the earth could just lift twenty-seven equal pieces of metal would, if he were transferred to the sun, only be able to lift one of the pieces at a time. The pressure of the gases below the surface must therefore be very great, and it might be supposed that they would become liquefied in consequence. It was, however, discovered by Andrews that so long as a gas is kept at a temperature higher than a certain point, known as the "critical temperature" (which is different for different gases), the gas will not be turned into a liquid however great be the pressure to which it is submitted. The temperature on the sun cannot be lower than the critical temperatures of the gases there existing; so it would seem that even the enormous pressure can hardly reduce the gases in the great luminary to the liquid form.

Of the interior of the sun we can, of course, expect to learn little or nothing. What we observe is the surface-layer, the so-called photosphere, in which the cold of s.p.a.ce produces the condensation of the gases into those luminous clouds which we see in our drawings and photographs as "rice grains" or "willow leaves." It has been suggested by Dr. Johnstone Stoney (and afterwards by Professor Hastings, of Baltimore) that these luminous clouds are mainly composed of carbon with those of the related elements silicon and boron, the boiling points of which are much higher than those of other elements which might be considered likely to form the photospheric clouds. The low atomic weight of carbon must also have the effect of giving the molecules of this element a very high velocity, and thereby enabling them to work their way into the upper regions, where the temperature has so fallen that the vapour becomes chilled into cloud. A necessary consequence of the rapid cooling of these clouds, and the consequent radiation of heat on a large scale, would be the formation of what we may perhaps describe as smoke, which settles by degrees through the intervals between the clouds (making these intervals appear darker) until it is again volatilised on reaching a level of greater heat below the clouds. This same smoke is probably the cause of the well-known fact that the solar limb is considerably fainter than the middle of the disc. This seems to arise from the greater absorption caused by the longer distance which a ray of light from a point near the limb has to travel through this layer of smoke before reaching the earth. It is shown that this absorption cannot be attributed to a gaseous atmosphere, since this would have the effect of producing more dark absorption lines in the spectrum. There would thus be a marked difference between the solar spectrum from a part near the middle of the disc and the spectrum from a part near the limb. This, however, we do not find to be the case.

With regard to the nature of sun-spots, the idea first suggested by Secchi and Lockyer, that they represent down rushes of cooler vapours into the photosphere (or to its surface), seems on the whole to accord best with the observed phenomena. We have already mentioned that the spots are generally accompanied by faculae and eruptive prominences in their immediate neighbourhood, but whether these eruptions are caused by the downfall of the vapour which makes the photospheric matter "splash up" in the vicinity, or whether the eruptions come first, and by diminishing the upward pressure from below form a "sink," into which overlying cooler vapour descends, are problems as to which opinions are still much divided.

A remarkable appendage to the sun, which extends to a distance very much greater than that of the corona, produces the phenomenon of the zodiacal light. A pearly glow is sometimes seen in the spring to spread over a part of the sky in the vicinity of the point where the sun has disappeared after sunset. The same spectacle may also be witnessed before sunrise in the autumn, and it would seem as if the material producing the zodiacal light, whatever it may be, had a lens-shaped form with the sun in the centre. The nature of this object is still a matter of uncertainty, but it is probably composed of a kind of dust, as the faint spectrum it affords is of a continuous type. A view of the zodiacal light is shown in Fig. 22.

In all directions the sun pours forth, with the most prodigal liberality, its torrents of light and of heat. The earth can only grasp the merest fraction, less than the 2,000,000,000th part of the whole.

Our fellow planets and the moon also intercept a trifle; but how small is the portion of the mighty flood which they can utilise! The sip that a flying swallow takes from a river is as far from exhausting the water in the river as are the planets from using all the heat which streams from the sun.

The sun's gracious beams supply the magic power that enables the corn to grow and ripen. It is the heat of the sun which raises water from the ocean in the form of vapour, and then sends down that vapour as rain to refresh the earth and to fill the rivers which bear our ships down to the ocean. It is the heat of the sun beating on the large continents which gives rise to the breezes and winds that waft our vessels across the deep; and when on a winter's evening we draw around the fire and feel its invigorating rays, we are only enjoying sunbeams which shone on the earth countless ages ago. The heat in those ancient sunbeams developed the mighty vegetation of the coal period, and in the form of coal that heat has slumbered for millions of years, till we now call it again into activity. It is the power of the sun stored up in coal that urges on our steam-engines. It is the light of the sun stored up in coal that beams from every gaslight in our cities.

For the power to live and move, for the plenty with which we are surrounded, for the beauty with which nature is adorned, we are immediately indebted to one body in the countless hosts of s.p.a.ce, and that body is the sun.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 22.--The Zodiacal Light in 1874.]

CHAPTER III.

THE MOON.

The Moon and the Tides--The Use of the Moon in Navigation--The Changes of the Moon--The Moon and the Poets--Whence the Light of the Moon?--Sizes of the Earth and the Moon--Weight of the Moon--Changes in Apparent Size--Variations in its Distance--Influence of the Earth on the Moon--The Path of the Moon--Explanation of the Moon's Phases--Lunar Eclipses--Eclipses of the Sun, how produced--Visibility of the Moon in a Total Eclipse--How Eclipses are Predicted--Uses of the Moon in finding Longitude--The Moon not connected with the Weather--Topography of the Moon--Nasmyth's Drawing of Triesnecker--Volcanoes on the Moon--Normal Lunar Crater--Plato--The Shadows of Lunar Mountains--The Micrometer--Lunar Heights--Former Activity on the Moon--Nasmyth's View of the Formation of Craters--Gravitation on the Moon--Varied Sizes of the Lunar Craters--Other Features of the Moon--Is there Life on the Moon?--Absence of Water and of Air--Dr.

Stoney's Theory--Explanation of the Rugged Character of Lunar Scenery--Possibility of Life on Distant Bodies in s.p.a.ce.

If the moon were suddenly struck out of existence, we should be immediately apprised of the fact by a wail from every seaport in the kingdom. From London and from Liverpool we should hear the same story--the rise and fall of the tide had almost ceased. The ships in dock could not get out; the ships outside could not get in; and the maritime commerce of the world would be thrown into dire confusion.

The moon is the princ.i.p.al agent in causing the daily ebb and flow of the tide, and this is the most important work which our satellite has to do.

The fleets of fishing boats around the coasts time their daily movements by the tide, and are largely indebted to the moon for bringing them in and out of harbour. Experienced sailors a.s.sure us that the tides are of the utmost service to navigation. The question as to how the moon causes the tides is postponed to a future chapter, in which we shall also sketch the marvellous part which the tides seem to have played in the early history of our earth.

Who is there that has not watched, with admiration, the beautiful series of changes through which the moon pa.s.ses every month? We first see her as an exquisite crescent of pale light in the western sky after sunset.

If the night is fine, the rest of the moon is visible inside the crescent, being faintly illumined by light reflected from our own earth.

Night after night she moves further and further to the east, until she becomes full, and rises about the same time that the sun sets. From the time of the full the disc of light begins to diminish until the last quarter is reached. Then it is that the moon is seen high in the heavens in the morning. As the days pa.s.s by, the crescent shape is again a.s.sumed. The crescent wanes thinner and thinner as the satellite draws closer to the sun. Finally she becomes lost in the overpowering light of the sun, again to emerge as the new moon, and again to go through the same cycle of changes.

The brilliance of the moon arises solely from the light of the sun, which falls on the not self-luminous substance of the moon. Out of the vast flood of light which the sun pours forth with such prodigality into s.p.a.ce the dark body of the moon intercepts a little, and of that little it reflects a small fraction to illuminate the earth. The moon sheds so much light, and seems so bright, that it is often difficult at night to remember that the moon has no light except what falls on it from the sun. Nevertheless, the actual surface of the brightest full moon is perhaps not much brighter than the streets of London on a clear sunshiny day. A very simple observation will suffice to show that the moon's light is only sunlight. Look some morning at the moon in daylight, and compare the moon with the clouds. The brightness of the moon and of the clouds are directly comparable, and then it can be readily comprehended how the sun which illuminates the clouds has also illumined the moon. An attempt has been made to form a comparative estimate of the brightness of the sun and the full moon. If 600,000 full moons were shining at once, their collective brilliancy would equal that of the sun.

The beautiful crescent moon has furnished a theme for many a poet.

Indeed, if we may venture to say so, it would seem that some poets have forgotten that the moon is not to be seen every night. A poetical description of evening is almost certain to be a.s.sociated with the appearance of the moon in some phase or other. We may cite one notable instance in which a poet, describing an historical event, has enshrined in exquisite verse a statement which cannot be correct. Every child who speaks our language has been taught that the burial of Sir John Moore took place

"By the struggling moonbeams' misty light."

There is an appearance of detail in this statement which wears the garb of truth. We are not inclined to doubt that the night was misty, nor as to whether the moonbeams had to struggle into visibility; the question at issue is a much more fundamental one. We do not know who was the first to raise the point as to whether any moon shone on that memorable event at all or not; but the question having been raised, the Nautical Almanac immediately supplies an answer. From it we learn in language, whose truthfulness const.i.tutes its only claim to be poetry, that the moon was new at one o'clock in the morning of the day of the battle of Corunna (16th January, 1809). The ballad evidently implies that the funeral took place on the night following the battle. We are therefore a.s.sured that the moon can hardly have been a day old when the hero was consigned to his grave. But the moon in such a case is practically invisible, and yields no appreciable moonbeams at all, misty or otherwise. Indeed, if the funeral took place at the "dead of night," as the poet a.s.serts, then the moon must have been far below the horizon at the time.[6]

In alluding to this and similar instances, Mr. Nasmyth gives a word of advice to authors or to artists who desire to bring the moon on a scene without knowing as a matter of fact that our satellite was actually present. He recommends them to follow the example of Bottom in _A Midsummer's Night's Dream_, and consult "a calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanac; find out moonshine, find out moonshine!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 23.--Comparative Sizes of the Earth and the Moon.]

Among the countless host of celestial bodies--the sun, the moon, the planets, and the stars--our satellite enjoys one special claim on our attention. The moon is our nearest permanent neighbour. It is just possible that a comet may occasionally approach the earth more closely than the moon but with this exception the other celestial bodies are all many hundreds or thousands, or even many millions, of times further from us than the moon.

It is also to be observed that the moon is one of the smallest visible objects which the heavens contain. Every one of the thousands of stars that can be seen with the unaided eye is enormously larger than our satellite. The brilliance and apparent vast proportions of the moon arise from the fact that it is only 240,000 miles away, which is a distance almost immeasurably small when compared with the distances between the earth and the stars.

Fig. 23 exhibits the relative sizes of the earth and its attendant. The small globe shows the moon, while the larger globe represents the earth.

When we measure the actual diameters of the two globes, we find that of the earth to be 7,918 miles and of the moon 2,160 miles, so that the diameter of the earth is nearly four times greater than the diameter of the moon. If the earth were cut into fifty pieces, all equally large, then one of these pieces rolled into a globe would equal the size of the moon. The superficial extent of the moon is equal to about one thirteenth part of the surface of the earth. The hemisphere our neighbour turns towards us exhibits an area equal to about one twenty-seventh part of the area of the earth. This, to speak approximately, is about double the actual extent of the continent of Europe. The average materials of the earth are, however, much heavier than those contained in the moon. It would take more than eighty globes, each as ponderous as the moon, to weigh down the earth.

Amid the changes which the moon presents to us, one obvious fact stands prominently forth. Whether our satellite be new or full, at first quarter or at last, whether it be high in the heavens or low near the horizon, whether it be in process of eclipse by the sun, or whether the sun himself is being eclipsed by the moon, the apparent size of the latter is nearly constant. We can express the matter numerically. A globe one foot in diameter, at a distance of 111 feet from the observer, would under ordinary circ.u.mstances be just sufficient to hide the disc of the moon; occasionally, however, the globe would have to be brought in to a distance of only 103 feet, or occasionally it might have to be moved out to so much as 118 feet, if the moon is to be exactly hidden.

It is unusual for the moon to approach either of its extreme limits of position, so that the distance from the eye at which the globe must be situated so as to exactly cover the moon is usually more than 105 feet, and less than 117 feet. These fluctuations in the apparent size of our satellite are contained within such narrow limits that in the first glance at the subject they may be overlooked. It will be easily seen that the apparent size of the moon must be connected with its real distance from the earth. Suppose, for the sake of ill.u.s.tration, that the moon were to recede into s.p.a.ce, its size would seem to dwindle, and long ere it had reached the distance of even the very nearest of the other celestial bodies it would have shrunk into insignificance. On the other hand, if the moon were to come nearer to the earth, its apparent size would gradually increase until, when close to our globe, it would seem like a mighty continent stretching over the sky. We find that the apparent size of the moon is nearly constant, and hence we infer that the average distance of the same body is also nearly constant. The average value of that distance is 239,000 miles. In rare circ.u.mstances it may approach to a distance but little more than 221,000 miles, or recede to a distance hardly less than 253,000 miles, but the ordinary fluctuations do not exceed more than about 13,000 miles on either side of its mean value.

From the moon's incessant changes we perceive that she is in constant motion, and we now further see that whatever these movements may be, the earth and the moon must at present remain at _nearly_ the same distance apart. If we further add that the path pursued by the moon around the heavens lies nearly in a plane, then we are forced to the conclusion that our satellite must be revolving in a nearly circular path around the earth at the centre. It can, indeed, be shown that the constant distance of the two bodies involves as a necessary condition the revolution of the moon around the earth. The attraction between the moon and the earth tends to bring the two bodies together. The only way by which such a catastrophe can be permanently avoided is by making the satellite move as we actually find it to do. The attraction between the earth and the moon still exists, but its effect is not then shown in bringing the moon in towards the earth. The attraction has now to exert its whole power in restraining the moon in its circular path; were the attraction to cease, the moon would start off in a straight line, and recede never to return.