Cepheus far in the palace Sat in the midst of his hall, on his throne, like a shepherd of people, Choking his woe dry-eyed, while the slaves wailed loudly around him.
The story of Andromeda, as the reader doubtless knows, is not of Greek origin. Its real origin is lost in a far antiquity. The Indians have the same story in their astronomical mythology, and almost the same names. Thus Wilford, in his Asiatic Researches, relating his conversation with an Indian astronomer, says, "I asked him to show me in the heavens the constellation of Antarmada, and he immediately pointed to Andromeda, though I had not given him any information about it beforehand. He afterwards brought me a very rare and curious work in Sanscrit, which contained a chapter devoted to Upanachatras, or extra-zodiacal constellations, with drawings of Capuja (Cepheus), and of Casyapi (Cassiopeia), seated and holding a lotus flower in her hand; of Antarmada, chained, with the fish beside her; and last, of Parasiea (Perseus), who, according to the explanation of the book, held the head of a monster which he had slain in combat; blood was dropping from it, and for hair it had snakes."
As another illustration of the method I have described, I give the constellation Pegasus, or, as it was sometimes called, the Half-horse. I do not assert that fig. 41 presents a very well shaped steed, any more than that in fig. 40 a lady of exquisite proportions is pictured. But one can perceive how the stars suggest the idea of a horse in one case, and of a human figure with upraised fastened arms in the other. It is commonly stated that Pegasus is one of the constellations showing no resemblance at all to the figure associated with it. I think fig. 41 suffices to show that there is some slight resemblance at least.
It may be mentioned, in passing, that all the nations of antiquity would not be likely to form equally clear conceptions of figures in the heavens. There are marked differences between the various races of the human family in this respect, just as there are marked differences between various persons in the power of imagining figures under different conditions. Some persons see figures at once in a cloud, in the outline of a tree, in a fire, in a group of accidental markings, and so forth; while others not only do not see such figures, but cannot imagine them even when their outlines are indicated. So it is with different races of men. There have been some which, even when only just emerging from the utterly savage state, possessed so much of the imaginative power as to be able to picture for themselves, by lines cut with rude flint instruments on pieces of bone, horn, or ivory, the animals with which they were familiar. We have even among such pictures some belonging to an age so remote that the mammoth (or hairy elephant) had not yet entirely disappeared from Europe; for, in the cave of La Madeleine, at Dordogne, among other relics of the stone age, there has actually been found a drawing of the mammoth scratched on a piece of mammoth tusk. On the other hand, there are some races in existence at the present day, in a more advanced stage of civilization, who cannot perceive even in well-executed coloured drawings any resemblance to the objects pictured. An aboriginal New Hollander, says Oldfield, "being shown a coloured engraving" of a member of his own tribe, "declared it to be a ship, another a kangaroo, and so on; not one of a dozen identifying the portrait as having any connection with himself." A rude drawing, with all the lesser parts much exaggerated, they can realise. Thus, to give them an idea of a man, the head must be drawn disproportionately large. Dr. Collingwood tells us that when he showed a copy of the Illustrated London News to the Kibalaus of Formosa, he found it impossible to interest them by pointing out the most striking illustrations, "which they did not appear to comprehend." Denham (I quote throughout from Lubbock's most valuable and interesting work on the Origin of Civilization) says that Bookhaloum, a man otherwise of considerable intelligence, though he readily recognised figures, could not understand a landscape. "I could not," he says, "make him understand the print of the sand-wind in the desert, which is really so well described by Captain Lyons' drawing. He would look at it upside down; and when I twice reversed it for him he exclaimed, 'Why! why! it's all the same.' A camel or a human figure was all I could make him understand, and at these he was all agitation and delight. 'Gieb! Gieb!--wonderful! wonderful!' The eyes first took his attention, then the other features; at the sight of the sword, he exclaimed, 'Allah! Allah!' and, on discovering the guns, instantly exclaimed, 'Where is the powder?'"
We have in the consideration of this diversity of character between different races and nations, as respects the power as well of imagining as of delineating figures (the two are closely connected), one means of judging to what race we owe the original constellations. For although some figures in the heavens are manifest enough, others require a considerable power of imagination. And it should be noted that this must have been true even if we suppose (which I think I have succeeded in showing we need not do) that many of the stars have changed in brightness, and that thus resemblances have disappeared which formerly existed. For, in any case, the heavens four, ten, or twenty thousand years ago, or at whatever remote period we set the original invention of the constellations, must have presented the same characteristics as at present. It can never have been the case that all the star-groups could be compared at once, obviously, with the figures of men and animals. So that only a race of lively imagination could have found figures for all the star-groups, as was certainly done in very remote times by some race.
The race, then, to whom we owe the general system of constellations, was probably one with so much talent for artistic delineation that in later ages this people would have become distinguished for skill in painting and sculpture. I think the sculptures found in Babylon, and the traditions left of the artistic skill of the Babylonians, correspond well with the belief that the constellations had their origin, and astronomy its first development, among that people or a kindred race.
But the chief lesson to be derived (and I think it may fairly be derived) from the study of the constellation-groups is, that enough resemblance still remains, if only the arbitrary boundaries invented for the constellation figures in recent times are overlooked, to assure us that no very great changes have taken place in the aspect of the heavens for thousands of years. A few stars here and there have certainly changed greatly in brightness, and some few have changed considerably even in position; while a considerable number have probably changed slightly in brightness, and all, or very nearly all, have changed somewhat in position. But on the whole the aspect of the stellar heavens now is the same as it was when the constellation figures were first imagined.
This thought not only assures us of the permanence of our own sun (seeing that among the thousands of his fellow-suns which spangle the heavens so few have changed in lustre), but seems to me to give to the study of the stars a singular charm. Our antiquaries and archæologists present for our study the relics of long past ages, and we may often rest assured that the objects thus gathered for us were really used in old times, though probably in a manner not understood by us, and when in a condition very unlike that in which they have reached our times. In nearly all such instances, however, doubt exists as to the antiquity of the relic, as to the race to whom it really belonged, and as to its real use and purport. But as regards the stellar heavens we have no doubt. Of all the objects on which the eyes of remote races have rested, the celestial bodies are undoubtedly the most ancient, while at the same time they and they alone were most certainly contemplated by all mankind. From the very earliest ages, from the time when the child-man first turned his thoughts from mere animal wants to the wonders of nature, the stars, and the sun and moon and planets must have drawn to themselves the attention of all who had eyes to see even though they had no power to understand the glories of the star-depths. Men pictured among the stars the objects most familiar to them, the herds and flocks which they tended, the herdsman himself, the waggoner, the huntsman, the birds of the air, the beasts of the field, the fishes of the sea, the ship, the altar, the bow, the arrow, and, one may say, all that according to their knowledge existed in the heavens above, in the earth beneath, and in the waters under the earth. Imperfect and anomalous as these meanings are, in relation to modern astronomy, with its exact methods, elaborate instruments, and profound investigations into the meaning of all the phenomena of the heavens, they nevertheless retain their place, and are likely long to do so, in virtue of the hold which they took, in remote ages, on the imagination of mankind in general.
FOOTNOTES:
"The altar, bearing fire of incense, pictured by stars." A remarkably bright and complex portion of the Milky Way lies near the constellation Ara, giving the appearance of smoke ascending from the altar, only the altar must be set upright, as in my Gnomonic Atlas, not inverted as in all the modern maps. (It is shown properly in the old Farnese globe).
XIII.
TRANSITS OF VENUS.
As a transit of Venus, visible in this country, occurs in December, 1882, my readers, although they may not care for an account of the mathematical relations involved in the observation and calculation of a transit, will probably be interested by a simple explanation of the reasons why transits of Venus are so important in astronomy.
Of course it is known that a transit of Venus is the apparent passage of the planet across the face of the sun, when, in passing between the earth and sun, as she does about eight times in thirteen years, she chances to come so close to the imaginary line joining the centres of those bodies that, as seen from the earth, she appears to be upon the face of the sun. We may compare her to a dove circling round a dovecot, and coming once in each circuit between an observer and her house. If in her circuit she flew now higher, now lower, or, in other words, if the plane of her path were somewhat aslant, she would appear to pass sometimes above the cot, and sometimes below it, but from time to time she would seem to fly right across it. So Venus, in circuiting round the sun, appears sometimes, when she comes between us and the sun, to pass above his face, and sometimes to pass below it; but occasionally passes right across it. In such a case she is said to transit the sun's disc, and the phenomenon is called a transit of Venus. She has a companion in these circuiting motions, the planet Mercury, though this planet travels much nearer to the sun. It is as though, while a dove were flying around a dovecot at a distance of several yards, a sparrow were circling round the cot at a little more than half the distance, flying a good deal more quickly. It will be understood that Mercury also crosses the face of the sun from time to time--in fact, a great deal oftener than Venus; but, for a reason presently to be explained, the transits of Mercury are of no great importance in astronomy. One occurred in 1861, another in 1868; another in May, 1878; yet very little attention was paid to those events; and before the next transit of Venus, in 1882, there will be a transit of Mercury, in November, 1881; yet no arrangements have been made for observing Mercury in transit on these occasions; whereas astronomers began to lay their plans for observing the transit of Venus in 1882, as far back as 1857.
The illustration which I have already used will serve excellently to show the general principles on which the value of a transit of Venus depends; and as, for some inscrutable reasons, any statement in which Venus, the sun, and the earth are introduced, seems by many to be regarded as, of its very nature, too perplexing for anyone but the astronomer even to attempt to understand, my talk in the next few paragraphs shall be about a dove, a dovecot, and a window, whereby, perhaps, some may be tempted to master the essential points of the astronomical question who would be driven out of hearing if I spoke about planets and orbits, ascending nodes and descending nodes, ingress and egress, and contacts internal and external.
Suppose D, fig. 42, to be a dove flying between the window A B and the dovecot C c, and let us suppose that a person looking at the dove just over the bar A sees her apparently cross the cot at the level a, at the foot of one row of openings, while another person looking at the dove just over the bar B sees her cross the cot apparently at the level b, at the foot of the row of openings next above the row a. Now suppose that the observer does not know the distance or size of the cot, but that he does know in some way that the dove flies just midway between the window and the cot; then it is perfectly clear that the distance a b between the two rows of openings is exactly the same as the distance A B between the two window-bars; so that our observers need only measure A B with a foot-rule to know the scale on which the dovecot is made. If A B is one foot, for instance, then a b is also one foot; and if the dovecot has three equal divisions, as shown at the side, then C c is exactly one yard in height.
Thus we have here a case where two observers, without leaving their window, can tell the size of a distant object.
And it is quite clear that wherever the dove may pass between the window and the house, the observers will be equally able to determine the size of the cot, if only they know the relative distances of the dove and dovecot.
Thus, if D a is twice as great as D A, as in fig. 43, then a b is twice as great as A B, the length which the observers know; and if D a is only equal to half D A, as in fig. 44, then a b is only equal to half the known length A B. In every possible case the length of a b is known. Take one other case in which the proportion is not quite so simple:--Suppose that D a is greater than D A in the proportion of 18 to 7, as in fig. 45; then b a is greater than A B in the same proportion; so that, for instance, if A B is a length of 7 inches, b a is a length of 18 inches.
We see from these simple cases how the actual size of a distant object can be learned by two observers who do not leave their room, so long only as they know the relative distances of that object and of another which comes: between it and them. We need not specially concern ourselves by inquiring how they could determine this last point: it is enough that it might become known to them in many ways. To mention only one. Suppose the sun was shining so as to throw the shadow of the dove on a uniformly paved court between the house and the dovecot, then it is easy to conceive how the position of the shadow on the uniform paving would enable the observers to determine (by counting rows) the relative distances of dove and dovecot.
Now, Venus comes between the earth and sun precisely as the dove in fig. 45 comes between the window A B and the dovecot b a. The relative distances are known exactly, and have been known for hundreds of years. They were first learned by direct observation; Venus going round and round the sun, within the path of the earth, is seen now on one side (the eastern side) of the sun as an evening star, and now on the other side (the western side) as a morning star, and when she seems farthest away from the sun in direction E V (fig. 46) in one case, or E v in the other case, we know that the line E V or E v, as the case may be, must just touch her path; and perceiving how far her place in the heavens is from the sun's place at those times, we know, in fact, the size of either angle S E V or S E v, and, therefore, the shape of either triangle S E V or S E v. But this amounts to saying that we know what proportion S E bears to S V--that is, what proportion the distance of the earth bears to the distance of Venus.
This proportion has been found to be very nearly that of 100 to 72; so that when Venus is on a line between the earth and sun, her distances from these two bodies are as 28 to 72, or as 7 to 18.
These distances are proportioned precisely then as D A to D a in fig. 45; and the very same reasoning which was true in the case of dove and dovecot is true when for the dove and dovecot we substitute Venus and the sun respectively, while for the two observers looking out from a window we substitute two observers stationed at two different parts of the earth. It makes no difference in the essential principles of the problem that in one case we have to deal with inches, and in the other with thousands of miles; just as in speaking of fig. 45 we reasoned that if A B, the distance between the eye-level of the two observers, is 7 inches, then b a is 18 inches, so we say that if two stations, A and B, fig. 47, on the earth E, are 7000 miles apart (measuring the distance in a straight line), and an observer at A sees Venus' centre on the sun's disc at a, while an observer at B sees her centre on the sun's disc at b, then b a (measured in a straight line, and regarded as part of the upright diameter of the sun) is equal to 18,000 miles. So that if two observers, so placed, could observe Venus at the same instant, and note exactly where her centre seemed to fall, then since they would thus have learned what proportion b a is of the whole diameter S S' of the sun, they would know how many miles there are in that diameter. Suppose, for instance, they found, on comparing notes, that b a is about the 47th part of the whole diameter, they would know that the diameter of the sun is about 47 times 18,000 miles, or about 846,000 miles.
Now, finding the real size of an object like the sun, whose apparent size we can so easily measure, is the same thing as finding his distance. Any one can tell how many times its own diameter the sun is removed from us. Take a circular disc an inch in diameter,--a halfpenny, for instance--and see how far away it must be placed to exactly hide the sun. The distance will be found to be rather more than 107 inches, so that the sun, like the halfpenny which hides his face, must be rather more than 107 times his own diameter from us. But 107 times 846,000 miles amounts to 90,522,000 miles. This, therefore, if the imagined observations were correctly made, would be the sun's distance.
I shall next show how Halley and Delisle contrived two simple plans to avoid the manifest difficulty of carrying out in a direct manner the simultaneous observations just described, from stations thousands of miles apart.
We have seen that the determination of the sun's distance by observing Venus on the sun's face would be a matter of perfect simplicity if we could be quite sure that two observations were correctly made, and at exactly the same moment, by astronomers stationed one far to the north, the other far to the south.
The former would see Venus as at A, fig. 48, the other would see her as at B; and the distance between the two lines a a´ and b b´ along which her centre is travelling, as watched by these two observers, is known quite certainly to be 18,000 miles, if the observers' stations are 7,000 miles apart in a north-and-south direction (measured in a straight line). Thence the diameter S S´ of the sun is determined, because it is observed that the known distance a b is such and such a part of it. And the real diameter in miles being known, the distance must be 107 times as great, because the sun looks as large as any globe would look which is removed to a distance exceeding its own diameter (great or small) 107 times.
But unfortunately it is no easy matter to get the distance a b, fig. 48, determined in this simple manner. The distance 18,000 miles is known; but the difficulty is to determine what proportion the distance bears to the diameter of the sun S S´. All that we have heard about Halley's method and Delisle's method relates only to the contrivances devised by astronomers to get over this difficulty. It is manifest that the difficulty is very great.
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