Discoveries and Inventions of the Nineteenth Century

us to give, will not fail to awaken new thoughts in the mind of a reader who has obtained even a glimpse of the nature of the subject, especially in relation to that branch of which we have last treated, for in every age and in every region the stars have attracted the gaze and excited the imagination of men. The belief in their influence over human affairs was profound, universal, and enduring; for it survived the dawn of rising science, being among the last shades of the long night of superstition which melted away in the morning of true knowledge. Even Francis Bacon, the father of the inductive philosophy, and old Sir Thomas Browne, the exposer of “Vulgar Errors,” believed in the influences of the stars; for while recognizing the impostures practised by its professors, they still regarded astrology as a science not altogether vain. It was reserved for the mighty genius of Newton to prove that in very truth there are invisible ties connecting our earth with those remote and brilliant bodies—ties more potent than ever astrology divined; for he showed that even the most distant orb is bound to its companions and to our planet by the same power 445that draws the projected stone to the ground. And now the spectroscope is revealing other lines of connection, and showing that not gravitation alone is the sympathetic bond which unites our globe to the celestial orbs, but that there exists the closer tie of a common constitution, for they are all made of the same matter, obeying the same physical and chemical laws which belong to it on the earth. We learn that hydrogen, and magnesium, and iron, and other familiar substances, exist in these inconceivably distant suns, and there exhibit the identical properties which characterize them here. We confirm, by the spectroscope, the fact partially revealed by other lines of research, that the stars which appear so fixed, are, in reality, careering through space, each with its proper motion. We learn also that the stars are the theatres of vast chemical and physical changes and transformations, the rapidity and extent of which we can hardly conceive. There is, for example, the case of that wonderful star in the constellation of the Crown, which, in 1866, suddenly blazed out, from a scarcely discernible telescopic star, to become one of the most conspicuous in the heavens, and the bright lines its beams produced in the spectroscope revealed the fact that this abrupt splendour was due to masses—who can imagine how vast?—of incandescent hydrogen. This brightness soon waned, and τ Coronæ Borealis reverted once more to all but telescopic invisibility. The seeming fixity of the stars is an illusion of the same nature as that which prevents a casual observer from recognizing their apparent diurnal motion, and now we have also ample evidence that permanence of physical condition, even in the stars, is impossible. Everywhere in the universe there is motion and change; there is no pause, no rest, but a continual unfolding, an endless progression. “Know the stars yonder, The stars everlasting, Are fugitive also, And emulate, vaulted, The lambent heat-lightning And fire-fly’s flight.”