Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

us the vastness of the interstellar spa

ces.

There is another, however, which deserves mention. We commonly find those comets which sweep round the sun in parabolic or hyperbolic orbits, spoken of as visitants from the domain of other stars. And so in truth they are. But how seldom do we find in our treatises on astronomy any reference to the enormous intervals of time which must have elapsed since these startling visitants were traveling close round some other star, making their periastral swoop before setting forth on that enormous journey which had to be traversed before they could become visible to our astronomers! Taking into account the directions in which certain comets have reached us, and assigning to the stars seen in such directions the least distances compatible with known facts, it yet remains absolutely certain that twenty millions of years at least must have elapsed since those comets were last in periastral passage. While if, as some suppose, each comet (even those which now circle in closed orbits round our own) has flitted from star to star during a long interstellar existence, the mind shrinks utterly before the contemplation of the vastness of the time-intervals which have elapsed since those journeyings first commenced: yet these time-intervals afford but an imperfect means of estimating the scale on which the sidereal system is built.

I will not dwell here on those further conceptions-equally necessary, I take it, to complete the picture which the true student of astronomy should have present in his mind-which relate to the constitution of the sidereal spaces, to the motions and changes taking place within them, and to the relation which the various forms of matter existing within those spaces bear to each other, or to the forms with which we are familiar. It is to be remarked, as regards many of these conceptions, that their nature will depend on the views entertained by the student respecting the accuracy of the various theories which Kepler, Wright, Kant, Lambert, Mitchell, the Herschels, Struve, and others, have formed respecting the way in which the various objects revealed by the telescope are distributed throughout surrounding space. But even though doubt must needs at present rest on many points, yet what is actually known is sufficient to form a picture full

of interest as respects all its visible details, and not the less impressive, perhaps, that a large portion of its extent is still hidden in darkness and mystery.

It is little necessary to point out that the course of study by which astronomical relations may thus become clearly pictured must needs form a valuable mental training. Whether we regard the careful analysis of the evidence on which astronomical facts rest, the study of the various facts as they are brought, one after another, to the student's knowledge, the due co-ordination of each with its fellows, or, finally and chiefly, that intention of the mind on the complete series of facts by which alone their real significance can be apprehended, we see in astronomy the apt means for disciplining the mind, and fitting it for the noblest work of which it may be capable. But, besides the study of astronomical facts, we must consider here the actual study of the heavens, either with the unaided eye or with the telescope. I speak of the study of the heavens with the unaided eye, though many in this age of cheap telescopes may be inclined to smile at the thought that such study can have any value either to the student or to the science of astronomy. As a matter of fact, however, I am of those who believe that much may still be learned even from the study of the stellar heavens without optical instruments of any sort. I would point, in corroboration of this view, to the work done by Argelander in this seemingly so limited field; to our still incomplete knowledge of the meteoric facts which nakedeye survey is capable of revealing; and, lastly, to the fact that, from the study and charting of those stars alone which are visible to the unaided eye, I have myself been led to results tending to render untenable the whole system of sidereal astronomy as presented in our text-books.* I need hardly say that I reject altogether the notion that a telescope of even mode

* Of course, the weight of this evidence will depend on the eventual acceptance or rejection of the views which I have founded on the abovementioned researches. But whether my views be accepted or rejected, (and I must frankly state that I have not the least anxiety as to their fate,) the facts I have brought forward must be explained; and however explained, they must bear to a greater or less extent on our theories respecting certain regions, and their segregation from othsidereal astronomy. The aggregation of stars in ers, for instance, may be regarded otherwise than

rate power must needs be useless because in our day there are so many powerful telescopes, mounted in well-fitted observatories, and in the hands of men who are certainly not ill qualified to carry out original investigations.

Now I think that nothing can exceed in value the practical study of astronomy by the direct survey of the heavens. Set ting aside the fact that it is in the student's power to add to our store of knowledge, it is of the utmost importance that he should become directly cognizant of astronomical facts, whether those facts be the seeming motions of the celestial bodies, the telescopic aspect of the sun, moon, planets, stars, and nebulæ, or the statistical relations, changes, motions, and so on, of the stårs of various orders. A student of astronomy whose knowledge is partly founded on actual observation holds all his knowledge with far securer grasp than one who has devoted his attention, however earnestly, to the acquisition of book-knowledge alone.

Yet I find it is impossible to pass this point of my subject without a word of protest against the use to which the telescopes now erected in every part of England are, with few exceptions, being devoted. One can understand that a person who has been led by the study of astronomical works to possess himself of a telescope of greater or less power, would in the first place turn it as opportunity permitted towards the various objects of which his books have informed him. One can understand that he would tax the powers of his instrument in attempting to recognize the spots on Venus or Mars, the more delicate details of lunar scenery or of the sun's surface, the belts of Jupiter, the features of the Saturnian rings, the duplicity of the closer double stars, and the characteristics of those exceedingly difficult objects of study, the nebula. But it certainly does seem a misfortune either that the work should stop here or that work of this sort should be continued year after year without aim or purpose. Yet in one or other of these ways, not merely the hundreds of cheap telescopes at this moment in the hands of amateur observ

I regard these facts; but the facts are there, and they have resulted from the survey of that which so many mistakenly supposed to be an exhausted region of astronomy-the relations, namely, presented by objects visible to the unaided eye.

ers, but numbers of the finest telescopes which our Cookes, and Brownings, and Dallmeyers have turned out from their manufactories, are simply lost to the cause of astronomy. A fine instrument is purchased, and erected in a well-fitted and costly observatory; and during the first weeks after its erection the purchaser turns it on some of the objects he has read about. Then presently his enthusiasm is exhausted, and the telescope is no more used, save perhaps to amuse visitors. Or, else, the telescopist's enthusiasm waxes fiercer; he passes night after night in his observatory, making his life a burden by unceasing efforts to just see with his telescope what one a little larger would show him easily; he sets his clocks and watches and all his neighbors' clocks and watches by transit observations; he notes down (to the second or third decimal place of seconds) the epochs when the moon occults stars or when Jupiter's satellites are eclipsed or occulted; and he seemingly remains all the while unconscious of the fact that twenty times his misplaced energy devoted for twenty lives to such work as I have have described would produce results simply worth nothing.

of

This rule I suggest to every possessor a telescope as one which should be written in letters of gold in his observatory, or, rather, as one which should be kept continually in his thoughts while working there: Every observation not intended as a mere relaxation from real work should be intended to ascertain some as yet unknown fact. Grant that the fact sought after may turn out when found to be an unimportant one, or even that after much labor no new fact may be revealed at all. In any long series of researches it must needs happen again and again that labor is wasted. But there is all the difference in the world between labor wasted unavoidably, and the deliberate employment of time and labor in purposeless observations. nard Palissy wasted years of labor, and all but ruined himself, in seeking to master the secrets of pottery; yet his successive failures were justified by his final success

Ber

nay, they would have been justified by his purpose even though he had failed; but no reasoning can justify the successful labors of the man who constructed a carriage complete in all its parts, which the wing of a fly could completely cover. The true astronomer finds it difficult to

forgive the telescopists who successfully imitate the work done at Greenwich in systematic observatory work of the most utterly valueless nature, while he can admire the unsuccessful labors of Sir William Herschel directed to the inquiry whether the planet Uranus has rings.

It will be obvious that careful attention to the rule I have stated above will not merely lead to the devisal of new applications of telescopic power, but is likely to suggest to the ingenious observer new ways of supplementing the powers of his telescope. It is only necessary to consider the various contrivances suggested by that prince of modern observers, the late Mr. Dawes, to see how, without very heavily taxing his inventive or constructive powers, the observer may enter on researches which his telescope as it came from the hands of the maker would not have enabled him to carry out successfully. Nor can one study the labors of any of our more successful observers without seeing how very readily new researches may be effected by contrivances of extreme simplicity.

I would next invite attention to the absolute necessity of independence of mind in the study of the noblest of all the sciences. I would not indeed advocate a readiness to dispute the dicta of the great men who have devoted themselves to the advancement of astronomy; nor again is it fitting that the student should attempt to make independent inquiries into matters belonging to such branches of the science as he has not yet familiarized himself with. It is neither dispute nor cavil that I advocate, but the careful examination and analysis of all statements submitted to the student's consideration, and the attempt to render the subject as far as possible his own by such a survey of the evidence as will suffice to give him independent reasons for believing in the correctness of the conclusions of his teachers. It will not unfrequently happen that while thus engaged he will detect, or imagine that he has detected, errors of greater or less importance. He should be prepared to find that in most cases these seeming errors have no real existence, but arise from misapprehension on his own part-a circumstance which will of itself serve to convince him of the extreme importance of the kind of investigation by which such misapprehensions have been brought to

light. But in other instances he will find that there has been a real error in his textbook-a fact which will equally convince him of the importance of the careful analysis of all statements lying within his range of investigation. I would quote here the words of Professor Huxley, both as to the value of scientific doubt, and as to the nature of that sort of doubt which the student should alone permit himself: "There is a path that leads to truth so surely, that any one who will follow it must needs reach the goal, whether his capacity be great or small. And there is one guiding rule by which a man may always find this path, and keep himself from straying when he has found it. This golden rule is, ' Give unqualified assent to no propositions but those the truth of which is so clear and distinct that they can not be doubted.' The enunciation of this first commandment of science consecrates doubt. It removes doubt from the seat of penance among the grievous sins to which it had long been condemned, and enthrones it in that high place among the primary duties which is assigned to it by the scientific conscience of these latter days." But "you must remember that the sort of doubt which has thus been consecrated is that which Goethe has called 'the active skepticism, whose whole aim is to conquer itself;' and not that other sort which is born of flippancy and ignorance, and whose aim is only to perpetuate itself as an excuse for idleness and indifference."

I have not hitherto referred specially to the grandeur of the facts with which the student of astronomy becomes acquainted. Certainly in this respect Astronomy stands before all other sciences. Geology alone approaches her in respect of the vastness of the time-intervals which either

* The necessity of such inquiry is increased by the circumstance that too often the statements made in one work on astronomy are repeated thence to be requoted in other works with, perwithout modification or examination in others, haps, fresh errors due to misprints, misappre hension, etc. For instance, I have noticed that in a popular text-book of astronomy, from misapprehension alone, two out of three methods of scribed, and in three several instances the actual determining the longitude have been wrongly dereverse of the truth has been asserted in the ex

planation of so simple a matter as the equation just that those who have still so much to learn of time. May it not be questioned how far it is

should undertake to write text-books of science?

science presents to our contemplation. But as respects extension in space, the domain of geology is utterly insignificant by comparison with even the threshold of that vast domain into which astronomy invites us. The geologist's field of research is indeed, as the most distinguished living geologist has remarked, "insignificant when compared to the entire globe of the earth;" and astronomy teaches us to regard that globe, and even the system to which it belongs, as occupying the merest speck of space by comparison with the visible portion of the star-system; while the sphere inclosing all the stars visible to the naked eye is small by comparison with the spaces revealed by the telescope, and infinitely small by comparison with those spaces whose existence is suggested by telescopic research. Nor is even the vastness of the domain of astronomy the noblest feature of the science. The wonderful variety recognized within that domain is perhaps but faintly pictured in the solar system with all its various forms of matter-sun, primary planets, and moons; major planets, minor planets, and asteroids; planet-girdling rings, meteoric systems, and comets; with perchance other forms of matter hitherto unrecognized. And beyond the wideness of the domain of astronomy and the amazing variety recognized within that domain, there remains the yet more impressive lesson taught by the infinite vitality which pervades every portion of space. I apprehend that if such powers of vision, and also (for they will be even more needed) such powers of conception, were given to the astronomer that the extent of that domain which the telescope has revealed

to man could be adequately recognized, while he further became cognizant of the way in which the various portions of that domain are occupied, that, deeply as he would be impressed by the amazing scene, the sense of wonder he would experience would sink almost into nothingness by comparison with that which would overwhelm him could he recognize with equal clearness the movements taking place amongst the orbs presented to his contemplation-could he see moons and moon-systems circling around primary planets, these urging their way with inconceivable velocity around their central suns, while amid the star-depths the suns were seen swiftly traveling on their several courses, star-streams and star-clusters aggregating or segregating according to the various influences of the attractions to which they were subject, and the vast spaces occupied by the gaseous nebulæ stirred to their inmost depths by the action of mighty forces whose real nature is as yet unknown to us. The mind can not but be strengthened and invigorated, it can not but be purified and elevated, by the contemplation of a scene so full of magnificence, imperfect though the means be by which the wonders of the scene are made known to us. The information given by the telescope is indeed but piecemeal, and as yet no adequate attempts have been made to bring the whole array of known facts as far as possible into one grand picture; but, seen as it is only by parts, and (even so) only as through a veil and darkly, the scene presented to the astronomer is the grandest and the most awe-inspiring which man can study.

THE ENGLISH SONNET.

THE Sonnet, as our readers know, owes its birth-place to Italy, and its earliest fame to the exquisite productions of Petrarch. Dante, Tasso, and indeed all the worthiest poets of that land have composed sonnets of high, some of supreme excellence, but so readily does the Italian language adapt itself to this form of poetical composition, that the wit, the courtier, and the lover, became unfortunately as familiar with it as the poet, and in the sixteenth century, the infection spread so rapidly that, as Mr. Hallam has pointed out, it would demand

the use of a library formed peculiarly for this purpose, as well as a vast expenditure of labor, to read the volumes which the Italians filled with their sonnets. For our purpose, at this time, there is only one point about the Italian sonnet that requires to be mentioned. In form it is what is generally known as legitimate, that is to say, the first eight lines, called the Octave, possess only two rhymes, and the six concluding lines, called the Sestette, never possess more than three. We may add that the poets of Italy were in the

habit of closing the second quatrain with a full stop, so that with the ninth line commenced a new turn of thought.

The revival of intellectual activity in the sixteenth century, which produced such glorious fruit in this country, led, as was natural enough, to an ardent study of the best authors of Italy, and it is impossible to read any of the Elizabethan poets and dramatists without observing how vast and profound was the influence exercised over them by the wealth of fancy and imagination, of romantic narrative and history, stored up in the rich granary of Italian literature. Shakspeare, the greatest and most original writer of that age, or of any, lays the scenes of several of his plays on Italian soil, and derives the plots of them from Italian sources. For one he goes to Ariosto, for another to Boccaccio, for a third to Cinthio; and if we examine with this design the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher, of Ben Jonson, of Massinger, of Webster, and of Ford, we shall be struck by their common partiality for the same fountain head. It is not wonderful, therefore, that our poets, in their eager admiration of Italian literature, should have seized upon one of the most characteristic features of Italian poetry, and have transplanted the sonnet to their native land. They made it their own, however, in the process, gave to it greater elasticity, and produced in this shape such gems of English art, that it would be as reasonable to complain that English watches were not genuine, because the first watch was invented by a German, as that the sonnet does not form a genuine portion of English verse, because the first sonnets were written by Italians. No doubt this idea has been encouraged by Dr. Johnson's Dictionary assertion, that the sonnet is not very suitable to the English language; but the worthlessness of the criticism is proved by the lexicographer's miserable estimate of Milton's majestic sonnets as deserving no particular comment, since "of the best it can only be said that they are not bad." It is a significant fact, and ample refutation of Dr. Johnson's belief that the structure of the English language is unfavorable to this kind of composition, that from Spenser downward it has been employed, with scarcely an exception, by our greatest poets, and this not merely as a poetical exercise, but because in certain

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

Within the sonnet's scanty plot of ground;" and with Mrs. Barrett Browning, whose noble song never rings more musically, or touches deeper chords of feeling than when rounded by the fourteen lines which form the compass of the sonnet. It is a special advantage of this form of composition, that it necessitates the precision of language and the concentration of thought, which are of priceless value in poetry. In the sonnet every word should have a meaning-every line add to the beauty of the whole; and the exquisite delicacy of workmanship should not lessen, but should rather assist in increasing the stability of the structure. A sonnet, brief though it be, is of infinite compass. What depth of emotion, what graceful fancy, what majestic organ notes, what soft flutelike music, is it incapable of expressing? The amatory sonneteers of Italy become frequently monotonous by harping too long upon one string, but in England our poets have rarely fallen into this error, and the variety to be found in the English sonnet is one of its great charms.

The earliest of our sonneteers-Sir Thomas Wyatt and the Earl of Surrey-friends in life, as well as in the art they practiced, acknowledged Petrarch as their master, and the latter, who has been termed "the English Petrarch," deserves attention for the harmony of his versification, as well as for his originality of thought. In avoiding the quirks and quibbles recommended by the Italian poet, the unfortunate Surrey shows that he possessed good taste, as well as poetical feeling. Surrey was a mere boy when he was married to Lady Frances Vere; and the love that finds utterance in his verse is, doubtless, for the wife of his youth. He had, besides, a poetical mistress, the Lady Geraldine, whose name is almost as familiar to English ears as that of Petrarch's Laura; but since Lady Elizabeth Fitzgerald, the Geraldine of the poet, was a mere child at the time when

« AnteriorContinuar »