Fig. 202.—Distortions of F line on Sun.
We have still, indeed, to consider some curious observations which are now capable of being made every day when anything like a sun-storm is going on, by means of the arrangement in which the spectroscope simply deals with the light that comes from a small portion of the sun instead of from all the sun. If we make the slit travel over different portions of the sun on which any up-rushes of heated material, or down-rushes of cold material, or other changes, are going on from change of surface temperature, the Fraunhofer lines, which we have before shown to be straight, instead of being so, appear contorted and twisted in all directions. On the other hand, if we examine the chromosphere under the same conditions, we find the bright lines contorted in the same manner. The usually dark lines, moreover, sometimes appear bright, even on the sun itself; sometimes they are much changed in their relative positions with reference to the solar spectrum. The meaning of these contortions has already been hinted at (p. 420).
It was there shown that every colour, or light of every refrangibility, is placed by the prisms in its own particular position, so if a ray of light alters its position in the spectrum it must change its colour or refrangibility, so the light producing the F line in the one case, and the absent light producing the dark line in the other, differ slightly in colour, or are rather more or less refrangible than the normal light from hydrogen. In the case when the F line is wafted towards the blue end of the spectrum, the light falling on the slit is rather more refrangible than usual; and in the middle drawing, Fig. 203, where the F line bifurcates, the slit is supplied with two kinds of light differing slightly in refrangibility. Not only does the light radiated by a substance change in this way, but the light absorbed by that substance also changes, hence the contortions of the black lines are due to a similar cause.
Fig. 203.—Displacement of F line on edge of Sun.
Here, therefore, we have evidence of a change of refrangibility, or colour, of the light coming from the hydrogen surrounding the sun. This change of refrangibility is due to the motion of the solar gases, as explained in the last chapter.
So we find that the hydrogen producing the light giving us one of the forms of the F line, shown in Fig. 203, is moving towards us at the rate of 120 miles a second, while that giving the other form is moving away from us.
Let us see how these immense velocities are estimated.
By means of careful measurements, Ångström has shown
on his map of the solar spectrum the absolute length of
the waves of light corresponding to the lines; thus the
length of the wave of light of hydrogen giving the
F line is 4860
10000000 of a millimeter. In Fig. 203 the
dots on either side of the F line show the positions,
where light would fall, if it differed from the F light by
1, 2, 3, or 4 ten-millionths of a millimeter, so that in
the figure the light of that part of the line wafted over
the fourth dot is of a wave-length of 4 ten-millionths of
a millimeter less than that of the normal F light, which
has a wave-length 4860
10000000 of a millimeter. The F light
therefore has had its wave-length reduced by 4
4860 = 1
1215
part; and in order that each wave may be decreased by
this amount, the source of the light must move towards
us with a velocity of 1
1215 of the velocity of light, which
is 186,000 miles per second, and 1
1215 of 186,000 is
about 150; this then is the velocity, in miles per second,
at which the hydrogen gas must have been moving
towards us in order to displace the light to the fourth
dot, as shown in the figure.
In previous chapters we have considered the lessons that we can learn from light—from the vibrations of the so-called ether—when we put questions to it through various instruments as interpreters. There is still another method of putting questions to these same vibrations, and the instrument we have now to consider is the Polariscope.
The spectroscope helped us to inquire into the lengths of the luminiferous waves; from the polariscope we learn whether there is any special plane in which these waves have their motion.
The polariscope is an instrument which of late years has become a useful adjunct to the telescope in examining the light from a body in order to decide whether it is reflected or not, and to ascertain indirectly the plane in which the rays reflected to the eye lie. The action of the instrument depends upon the fact that light which consists solely of vibrations perpendicular to a given plane is said to be completely polarized in that plane. Light that contains an excess of vibrations perpendicular to a given plane is said to be partially polarized in that plane.
It was Huyghens that discovered the action of Iceland spar in doubly refracting light; and the light which passed the crystal was called polarized light at the suggestion of Newton, who, it must be remembered, looked upon light as something actually emitted from luminous bodies; these projected particles were supposed, after passage through Iceland spar, to be furnished with poles analogous to the poles of a magnet, and to be unable to pass through certain bodies when the poles were not pointing in a certain direction. It was not until the year 1808 that Malus discovered the phenomenon of polarization by reflection. He was looking through a double-refracting prism at the windows of the Luxembourg Palace, on which were falling the rays of the setting sun. On turning the prism he noticed the ordinary and extraordinary images alternately become bright and dark. This phenomenon he at once saw was in close analogy to that which is observed when light is passed through Iceland spar. At first he thought it was the air that polarized the light, but subsequent experiments showed him that it was due to reflection from the glass.
Let us examine some of the phenomena before we proceed to show the use astronomers make of them.
It is the property of some crystals, such as tourmaline, when cut parallel to a given direction, called the optic axis of the crystal, to absorb all vibrations or resolved parts of vibrations perpendicular to this line, transmitting only vibrations parallel to it.
A similar absorption of vibrations perpendicular to a given direction may be effected by various other combinations, of which one, Nicol’s prism, is in most common use. Any of these arrangements may be used as an analyzer with the telescope, for determining whether the light is completely or partially polarized, and in either of these cases which is the plane of polarization. The plane containing the direction of the rays and the line in the analyzer to which the transmitted vibrations are parallel, is called the plane of analyzation: all the light which reaches the eye consists of vibrations in the plane of analyzation. As we rotate the analyzer, we rotate equally the plane of analyzation. If we find a position of the plane of analyzation for which the light received by the eye is a maximum, we know that the light from the object is partially or completely polarized in a plane perpendicular to the plane of analyzation when in this position. To determine whether the polarization is partial or complete, we must turn the analyzer through an angle of 90° from this position: if we now obtain complete darkness, we know that there are no vibrations having a resolved part parallel to the plane of analyzation in this position, or that the light is completely polarized in this plane: if there be still some light visible, the polarization is only partial.
To explain this a little more fully, we may compare the vibrations or waves of light to waves of more material things: we may have the vibrating particles of the ether moving up and down as the particles do in the case of a wave of water, or the particles may move horizontally as a snake does in moving along the ground. We may consider that ordinary light consists of vibrations taking place in all planes, but if it passes through or is reflected by certain substances at certain angles, the vibrations in certain planes are, as it were, filtered out, leaving only vibrations in a certain plane. This light is then said to be polarized, and its plane of polarization is found by its power of passing through polarizing bodies only when they are in certain positions.
If, for instance, a ray of ordinary light is passed through a crystal of tourmaline, the vibrations of the filtered ray will only lie in one plane; if then a second crystal of tourmaline be held in a similar position to the first, the ray will pass through it unaffected; but if it be turned through a quarter of a circle about the ray as an axis, the ray will no longer be able to pass, for being in a position at right angles to the first, it will filter out just the rays that the first allows to pass. For illustration, take a gridiron: if we attempt to pass a number of sheets of paper held in all positions through it, only those in a certain plane, viz., that of the rods forming the gridiron, could be passed through, and those that would go through would also go through any number of gridirons held in a similar position. But if another gridiron be placed so that its bars cross those of the first, the sheets of paper could no longer pass, and it is evident that if we could not see or feel the paper, we could tell in what plane it was by the position in which the gridiron must be held to let it pass, and having found the paper to be, say horizontal, we know that the bars of the first gridiron are also horizontal. So with light, we can analyze a ray of polarized light and say in what plane it is polarized.
The example of the gridiron, however, does not quite represent the action of the second crystal; for if the bars of the second gridiron are turned a very small distance out of coincidence with those of the first, the sheets of paper would be stopped; but with light, the intensity of the ray is only gradually diminished, until it is finally quenched when the axes of the crystals are at right angles to each other.
Fig. 204.—Diagram showing the Path of the Ordinary and Extraordinary Ray in Crystals of Iceland Spar.
Light is polarized by transmission and by reflection. We have already, when we were discussing the principle involved in the double-image micrometer, seen how a crystal of Iceland spar divides a ray into two parts at the point of incidence. Now these two rays are oppositely polarized, that is to say, the vibrations take place in planes perpendicular to each other; the vibrations of the incident light in one plane are refracted more than the vibrations in the opposite plane, and we have therefore two rays, one called the ordinary ray, and the other the extraordinary ray. Fig. 204 shows a ray of light, S I, incident on the first crystal at I; it is then divided up into the ordinary ray I R and the extraordinary one I R´; a screen is then interposed, stopping the extraordinary ray and allowing the ordinary one to fall on the second crystal at I. If then this crystal be in a similar position to the first, this ray, vibrating only in one plane, will pass onwards as an ordinary ray, I R; there being no vibrations in the perpendicular plane to form an extraordinary ray, there will be only one circle of light thrown on the screen at O by the lens. But, if the second crystal be turned round the line S S as an axis, the plane of vibration of the ray falling on its surface will no longer coincide with the plane in which an ordinary ray vibrates in the crystal, and it therefore becomes split up into two, one vibrating in the plane as an ordinary ray, and the other in that of an extraordinary ray; we have therefore the ray I R´ in addition to the first, and consequently a second circle on the screen at E´. As the crystal rotates, the plane of extraordinary refraction becomes more and more coincident with the plane of vibration of the incident ray, until, when it has revolved through 90°, it coincides with it exactly; it then passes through totally as an extraordinary ray, and as the refractive power of the crystal is greater for vibrations in this plane, we get all the light traversing the direction I R and falling on the screen at E´, and there being then no light ordinarily refracted, the circle O disappears. Fig. 205 shows the relative brightness of the circles E and O as they revolve round the centre S of the screen, the images produced by the ordinary and the extraordinary ray becoming alternately bright and dark as the crystal is rotated. Fig. 206 shows the images on the screen when the ordinary ray is stopped by the first screen instead of the extraordinary one.
Fig. 205.—Appearance of the Spots of Light on the Screen shown in the preceding Figure, allowing the ordinary ray to pass and rotating the second Crystal.
Fig. 206.—Appearance of Spots of Light on Screen on rotating the second Crystal, when the extraordinary ray is allowed to pass through the first Screen.
A crystal of tourmaline acts in a like manner to Iceland spar, but the ordinary ray is rapidly absorbed by the crystal, so that the extraordinary ray only passes. There is an objection to the use of it, as it is not very transparent, and a Nicol’s prism is now generally used for polarizing light. It is constructed out of a rhombo-hedron of Iceland spar cut into two parts in a plane passing through the obtuse angles, and the two halves are then joined by Canada balsam. The principle of construction is this: the power of refracting light possessed by Canada balsam is less than that possessed by Iceland spar for the ordinary ray, and greater in the case of the extraordinary ray; in consequence, the ordinary ray is reflected at the surface of junction, while the extraordinary ray passes onwards through the crystal.
Fig. 207.—Instrument for showing Polarization by Reflection.
It is manifest then that if two Nicols are used instead of two simple crystals, represented in Fig. 204, there will be only one spot of light on the screen, which is due to the extraordinary ray, and as in certain positions this no longer passes (for the ordinary ray, which appears in the place of the extraordinary when the crystal is used, cannot pass through the Nicol), no light at all passes in such positions, so that we can use the second Nicol as an analyzer to ascertain in what plane the light is polarized.
Light is also polarized by reflection from the surface of a transparent medium. When a ray of ordinary light falls on a plate of glass at an angle of 54° 55´ with the normal, the reflected ray is perfectly polarized, and at other inclinations the polarization is incomplete. Here then is polarization by reflection. Fig. 207 shows an apparatus for producing this phenomenon. The light foiling on the first mirror from E is reflected through the tube as a polarized beam, and this is analyzed by the other mirror (I), whose plane can be rotated round the axis of the tube. The angle of polarization differs with different substances according to their refractive power, for polarization of the reflected ray is perfect only when the angle of incidence is such that the reflected ray is at right angles to the refracted one.
As a result of what we have said, the light of the sun reflected from the surface of water or from the glass of a window is polarized, and although it may be dazzling to the eye, it is reduced, or even entirely cut off, when falling at the polarizing angle, by looking through the transparent Nicol’s prism or plate of glass held in certain positions and acting as an analyzer. On rotating the analyzer there is an alternation of intensity, and by looking at the window through a crystal of Iceland spar as an analyzer, two images would be seen which would alternate in brightness as the crystal is rotated. So also there is a difference in the intensity of the light from the sky when the analyzer is rotated, showing that the light reflected from the watery and dust particles in the air is polarized, and by the position of the analyzer we find that it is polarized in the plane we should expect if it be, as it is, reflected from the sun.
It will be asked, however, what is the astronomical use of determining whether light has an excess of vibrations in any given direction?
To this we may reply that light that is reflected from any body is generally partially polarized in the plane of reflection, and that if we find that the light received from any body is partially polarized in a given plane, we may conclude that it has very likely been reflected in that plane.
Hence then in the case of any celestial body the origin of the light of which is doubtful, the polariscope tells us whether the light is intrinsic or reflected.
It tells us more than this, it tells us the plane in which the reflection has taken place. As the polarization takes place, when it does take place, at the celestial body, all we have to do is to attach an analyzer to the telescope.
A careful application of the above principles has shown that the light from the sun’s corona is partially polarized, and in the same plane as it would be if reflected from small particles in the neighbourhood of the sun: so also a portion of the light of Coggia’s Comet was found to be polarized, and therefore we say that it reflected sunlight in addition to its own proper light.
In what has been hitherto said we have only considered the use of a Nicol, or glass plates, or crystal of Iceland spar as an analyzer, and by the variation of brightness the presence and plane of polarization have been determined; but unless the polarization is somewhat decided, it could not be detected by this method. Advantage is therefore taken of the fact that a plate of quartz rotates the plane of polarization of a ray passing through it, and it rotates the more refrangible colours more than the others, and some crystals rotate the plane one way, and others in the opposite direction: the crystals are therefore called respectively right- and left-handed quartz; the thicker the quartz the greater the angle through which the plane of polarization is twisted.
This supplies us with a most delicate apparatus, which we next describe. A crystal of right- and a crystal of left-handed quartz are taken and cut to such thickness that a ray of any colour, say green, has its plane turned through 90° on passing through each of them. They are then cut into the form of a semicircle and placed side by side. Any change of the angle of polarization will now affect each plate differently. In one plate the colours will change from red to violet, in the other from violet to red.
If now a ray of polarized light, say vibrating in a vertical plane, falls on them, the green rays will have their plane of vibration turned through 90° by each crystal, and the vibration of the green from both crystals will then be in the horizontal plane. Nicol’s prism interposed between the quartz plates and the eye, so as to allow horizontal vibrations to pass, will show the green from both crystals of equal intensity; the rays of other colours, being turned through a greater or less angle than 90°, will not be vibrating horizontally, and will therefore only partially pass through, so green will be the prevailing colour. If now the plane of vibration of the original ray be turned a little out of the vertical, the ray, on the red side of the green, will appear in one half, and that on the violet side of the green in the other: so that immediately the plane of polarization changes, the plates transmit a different colour, and the apparatus must be twisted round through just the same angle as the polarized ray in order to get the crystals of the same colour. It is therefore obvious that the angle made by a polarized ray with a fixed plane is easily ascertained in this manner.
There is also another instrument for detecting polarization which is perhaps more commonly used than the biquartz: it is generally called Savart’s analyser, and is extremely sensitive in its action. On looking through it at any object emitting ordinary light, the white circle of light limited by the aperture of the instrument only is seen; but if any polarized light should happen to be present, a number of parallel bands, each shaded from red to violet, make their appearance; on rotating the instrument a point is found when a very slight motion causes the bands to vanish and others to appear in the intermediate spaces, and knowing the position required for the change of bands with light polarized in a known plane, say the vertical plane, it is easy to find how far the plane of polarization of any ray is from the vertical, by the number of degrees through which the instrument must be turned to change the bands. The construction of the instrument, and especially its action, is not easy to understand without a considerable knowledge of optics, but it may be stated that a plate of quartz is cut, in a direction inclined at 45° to its axis, into two parts of the same thickness; one part is then turned through a right angle and placed with the same surfaces in contact as before; these are fixed in the instrument so that the light shall traverse them perpendicularly to the plane of section; the light then passes through a Nicol’s prism as an analyser to the eye. The lines observed, “black centred” in one position, and “white centred” in the position at right angles to this, are always in the direction before referred to. The delicacy of the test supplied by this arrangement increases as this direction is more nearly parallel or perpendicular to the plane of polarization of the ray under examination.
We come now last of all to that branch of the work of the physical astronomer which bids fair in the future to replace all existing methods of observation.
In the introductory chapter we referred to the introduction of photographic records of astronomical phenomena as marking an epoch in the development of the science. In the last ones we have to dwell briefly on the modus operandi of the various methods by which the eye is thus being gradually replaced.
The point of celestial photography is that it not only enables us to determine form and place, absolutely irrespective of personal equation so far as the eye is concerned, but that, properly done, it gives us a faithful and lasting record of the operation, so that it is not forgotten; Mr. De La Rue has called the photographic plate the retina which does not forget, and an excellent name it is.
We may pass over altogether the ordinary photographic processes, which have been carried on with a degree of skill and patience which is beyond all praise, and confine our attention exclusively to the instrumental processes. Be it remembered, we have no longer to consider the visual rays, but the so-called chemical rays, which lie at the violet end of the spectrum.
We must also recollect that, in a former chapter, we have seen that the optician’s business was to throw aside the violet rays altogether—to discard them, caring nothing for them, because, so far as the visible form of the objects is concerned, they help very little. But we shall see in a moment that, if we wish to use refractors for photographing, we must abolish this idea, and undo everything we did to get a perfect telescope to see the body, because in the case of the photographic processes employed at present, the visible rays have as little to do with building up the image on the photographic plate as the blue rays have to do with building up the image on the retina of the eye. We shall see presently how admirably this has been done by Mr. Rutherfurd. If, however, we use reflectors instead of refractors, we are able to utilize all the rays by means of the same mirror without alteration, as the focus is the same for all rays, so that a reflector is equally good for all classes of observation.
Let us first consider the cases in which the plate is made to replace the retina with the ordinary telescope. We shall see in the sequel that whether the spectroscope, polariscope, or other physical instrument be added to the telescope—when we pass, that is to say, from mechanical to physical astronomy—the plate can still replace the eye with advantage.
The body of the telescope, with the object-glass or mirror at one end and the plate at its focus in place of the eyepiece, forms the camera, corresponding to those we find in photographic studies. The plate-holder shown in section in the accompanying figure is therefore the only addition required to make a telescope into a camera for ordinary work. Fig. 208.
Fig. 208.—Section of Plate-holder.
A is a screw of such a size that it can be inserted into the eyepiece end of the telescope; the sensitive plate is held between a lid at the back, which opens for the plate to be inserted, and a slide in front, which is drawn out so as to expose the face of the plate to the object. A piece of ground glass of extreme fineness is inserted in the slide, on which the object is focussed before the sensitive plate is put in. It is easy then by the eyepiece focussing-screw to put this nearer or further away from the object-glass, so that the image is thrown sharply on the ground glass. When that is done the ground glass is taken away, and the sensitive plate put there in its place, and then exposed as required, so that the methods are similar to the ordinary photographic process.
We have here an arrangement that enables us to photograph the moon, stars, and planets. M. Faye has proposed that for the transit circle also the photographic method should be applied, the chronograph registering the time of the instantaneous opening of the slide, instead of the time the star is seen to transit, so that the position of the star with respect to the wires is registered at a certain known time; therefore, not only for physical astronomy have we the means of making observations without an observer at all, but also for position observations.
Every one knows sufficient of photography to be aware that, if we wish to secure the image of a faint object, such as a faint star or a faint part of the moon, we must expose the plate for some little time, as we have to do in ordinary photography if the day is dull, and therefore the larger the aperture of the telescope the more light passes; and the shorter the focus is, and the more rapid the process, the shorter will be the exposure; if the focus is short, the image will be small; but as we can magnify the image afterwards, rapidity becomes of greater moment, as the shorter the time of exposure is the less atmospheric and other disturbances and errors in driving the telescope come into play. Still, if we photograph the moon or other object, we do not wish to limit ourselves to the size of the original negative obtained at the focus. If the negative is well defined—that is, if it possesses the quality of enlargeableness—there is no difficulty in getting enlarged prints.
The method of enlarging photographs is very simple; all that is required is a large camera, the negative to be copied being placed nearer the lens than the prepared paper, so that the image is larger than the original. Fig. 209 shows an enlarging camera: the body, A, can be made of wood, or better still, of a soft material, bellows-fashion, so that the length can be altered at pleasure. In the end, at B, is fixed a lens—an ordinary portrait lens will do, but a proper copying lens is preferable; and E is a piece of wood with a hole in its centre, over which the negative is placed, the distance of E to B being also adjustible; then, by altering the lengths of B E and B C, the image of the negative can be made to appear of suitable size. At the end, C, a piece of sensitive paper is placed, and the light of the sun being allowed to fall through the negative and lens, the paper soon becomes printed, and can be toned and fixed as an ordinary paper positive. The camera may be carried on a rough equatorial mounting, consisting of an axis pointing to the pole, and pulled round with the sun by attaching a string to an equatorial telescope, moved by clockwork; or a heliostat can be used with more advantage, thereby allowing the camera to be stationary; a good enlarging lens is a very desirable thing, for most lenses seem to distort the image considerably.
Fig. 209.—Enlarging Camera. F, heliostat for throwing beam of sunlight on the reflector, which throws it into the camera; E, negative; B, focussing-lens; C, plate- or paper-holder; D, focussing-screw.
If we wish to obtain a large direct image of the moon, we must, as said before, employ a telescope of as long a focal length as possible; for reasons just mentioned, this is not always desirable. If, however, large images can be obtained as good as small ones, they can of course be enlarged to a much greater size. The primary image of the moon taken by Mr. De La Rue’s exquisite reflector is not quite an inch in diameter. In one of Mr. Rutherfurd’s telescopes of fifteen feet focus, the image of the moon is somewhat larger—about one and a half inch in diameter. In Mr. Newall’s magnificent refractor, the focal length of which is thirty feet, the diameter is over three inches. In the Melbourne reflector the image obtained is larger still.
In celestial photography we have not only to deal with faint objects. With the sun the difficulty is of no ordinary character in the opposite direction, because the light is so powerful that we have to get rid of it. Now there are two methods of doing this, and as in a faint object we get more light by increasing the aperture, so with a bright light like that of the sun we can get rid of a large amount of it by reducing the aperture of our telescope; but it is found better to reduce infinitesimally the time of exposure, and methods have been adopted by which that has been brought down to the one-hundredth part of a second.
Let us show the simple way in which this can be done by the means of an addition to an ordinary plate-holder.
Fig. 208 shows the ordinary plate-holder, like those used generally for photography. What is termed the instantaneous slide, B, Fig. 210, consists of a plate with an adjustible slit in it inserted between the object itself and the focus. This can be drawn rapidly across the path of the rays by means of a spring, D; we can bring it to one side, and fix it by a piece of cotton, E, and then we can release it by burning the cotton, when the spring draws it rapidly across. The velocity of the rush of the aperture across the plate, and the time of exposure, can be determined by the strength of the spring and the aperture of the slit. If the velocity is too great, we can alter the size of the slit, C. If we absorb some of the superabundant light by means of yellow glass, or some similar material, we can keep the opening wide enough to prevent any bad effects of diffraction coming into play.
Fig. 210.—Instantaneous Shutter.
The light of the sun is so intense that another method
may be employed. Instead of having the plate at the
focus of the object-glass we may introduce a secondary
magnifier in the telescope itself, and thus obtain an
enlarged image, the time necessary for its production
being still so short (1
50th of a second) that nothing is lost
from the disturbances of the air.
A telescope with this addition is called a photoheliograph. The first instrument of this kind was devised by Mr. De La Rue, and for many years was regularly employed in taking photographs of the sun at Kew.
Fig. 211.—Photoheliograph as erected in a Temporary Observatory for Photographing the Transit of Venus in 1874.
Some astronomers object to this secondary magnifier, and to obtain large images use very long focal lengths, and of course a siderostat is employed. In this way Professor Winlock obtained photographs of the sun which have surpassed the limits of Mr. Newall’s refractor; the negatives have a good definition, and show a considerable amount of detail about the spots; they were taken by a lens, inserted at the end of a gas-pipe forty feet long. The pipe was fixed in a horizontal position, facing the north, and at the extreme north part of it was the lens, a single one of crown glass, with no attempt to correct it. In front of it was a siderostat, moved by a clock, reflecting the light down the tube, so that the image of the sun could be focussed on the ground glass at the opposite end.
One will see the importance of shortening the time for even the brightest object. Those who are favoured with many opportunities of looking through large telescopes know that the great difficulty we have to deal with is the atmosphere; because we have to wait for definition, and the sum total of the photograph of any one particular thing depends upon these atmospheric fits. If we require to photograph an object, it will be obvious that the more fits we have, the worse it will be, because we get a number of images partially superposed which would otherwise give as good an effect as we could get by an ordinary eye observation. It is therefore most important to reduce the interval as much as possible.
The process used should therefore be the most rapid attainable; any work on photography will give a number of processes of different degrees of rapidity, but a process that suits one person’s manipulation may prove a failure in another’s, and the general principles are the only rules suitable for all. First, the glass plate should be carefully cleaned, the collodion lightly coloured, the bath strong and neutral, certainly not acid, and the developer fairly strong. Pyrogallic acid and silver should not be used for intensifying; a good intensifier is made by adding to a solution of iodide of potassium, strength one grain to the ounce of water, a saturated solution of bichloride of mercury, drop by drop, until the precipitate at first formed ceases to be re-dissolved; use this after fixing.
Now let us inquire what has been done by this important adjunct to ordinary means of observing. We may say that celestial photography was founded in the year 1850 by Professor Bond, who obtained a daguerreotype of the moon about that date. An immense advance has been made, but not so great as there might have been if the true importance of the method had been recognized as it ought to have been; and if we study the history of the subject we find that till within the last few years we have to limit ourselves to the works of two men who, after Bond, set the work rolling. Several observers took it up for a time; but the work requires much both of time and money, and different men dropped off from time to time. There remained always steadfast one Englishman and one American—Mr. De La Rue and Mr. Rutherfurd. The magnificent work Mr. De La Rue has done was begun in 1852. He was so anxious to see whether England could not do something similar to what had been done in America, that, without waiting for a driving clock, he thought he would see whether photographs of the moon could be taken by moving the telescope by hand. He soon found that he was working against nature—that nature refused to be wooed in this way; the moon in quite a decided manner declined to be photographed, and we waited five years till Mr. De La Rue was armed with a perfect driving clock. Mr. Rutherfurd was waiting for the same thing in America.
At last, in 1857, Mr. De La Rue got a driving clock to his reflector of thirteen inches aperture, and began those admirable photographs of the moon which are now so well known. Since the above date the moon has been photographed times without number, and Mr. De La Rue has made a series which shows the moon in all her different phases. They are remarkable for the beautiful way in which the details come out in all parts of the surface. We must recollect that these pictures of which we have spoken, some of them a yard in diameter, were first taken on glass about three inches across, the image covering the central inch. At the same time the British Association granted funds for the photographic registration of sun-spots at the Kew Observatory, where the sun was photographed every day for many years.
Encouraged by success, Mr. De La Rue, in 1858, attacked the planets Jupiter and Saturn, and some of the stars. He discovered that photographs of the moon can be combined in the stereoscope so that the moon shows itself perfectly globular.
To accomplish this result it was necessary to photograph her at different epochs, so that the libration, which gives it the appearance of being turned round slightly and looking as it would do to a person several thousand miles to the right or left of the telescope, should be utilized. These two views when combined give the appearance of solidity just as the image of a near object combined by the two eyes gives that appearance. The reason of this appearance of solidity is easily seen by looking at an orange or ball first with one eye and then with the other, when it is noticed that each eye sees a little more of one side than the other; and it is the combination of these slightly dissimilar images that gives the solid appearance.
If we examine two of these photographs combined for the stereoscope, we see that they have the appearance of being taken from two stations a long distance apart. One shows a little more of the surface on one side than the other. They are obtained in different lunations, when the moon, in the same phase, has turned herself slightly round, showing more of one side. In this way we have a distinct effect due to libration. In the year 1859 Mr. De La Rue found that sun-pictures could be combined stereoscopically in the same manner.
When we turn to the labours of Mr. Rutherfurd, we
find him in 1857 armed with a refractor of 11¼ inches
aperture; the actinic focus, or rather the nearest approach
to a focus, was 7
10ths of an inch from the visual focus.
With this telescope, without any correction whatever,
he, in 1857 and 1858, obtained photographs of the
moon which, when enlarged to five inches in diameter,
were well defined. He also obtained impressions of
stars down to as far as the fifth magnitude, and also of
double stars some 3˝ apart—for instance, γ Virginis was
photographed double. The ring of Saturn and belts
of Jupiter were also plainly visible, but ill-defined.
The satellites of Jupiter failed to give an image with
any exposure, while their primary did so in five or ten
seconds. The actinic rays, instead of coming to a point
and producing an image of a satellite, were spread over
a certain area and thereby rendered too weak to impress
the plate.
In the summer of 1858 Mr. Rutherfurd combined his first stereograph of the moon independently of Mr. De La Rue’s success in England.
Mr. Rutherfurd then commenced an inquiry of the greatest importance, which will in time bring about a revolution in the processes employed.
In 1859 he attempted, by placing lenses of different curvatures between the object-glass and the focus, to bring the chemical rays together, leaving the visual rays out of the question; this had the effect of shortening the focus considerably and improving the photographs; but he found that, except for the middle of the field, this method would not answer. He therefore in 1860 attempted another arrangement, and one which he found answered extremely well for short telescopes.
Between the lenses of the object-glass of a 4½-inch refractor he put a ring which separated the lenses by three-quarters of an inch, and reduced the power of the flint-glass lens, which corrects the crown-glass for colour, so that the combination became achromatic for the violet rays instead of for the yellow. With this lens he was successful to a certain extent: he obtained even better results than with the 11¼ inch; but eventually he rejected this method, which we may add has recently been tested by M. Cornu, who thinks very highly of it.
He next attempted a silver-on-glass mirror in 1861; in the atmosphere of New York it only lasted ten days; he gave it up; and he then very bravely, in 1864, attacked the project de novo, and began an object-glass of a telescope which should be constructed so as to give best definition with the actinic rays, just as ordinary object-glasses are made to act best with the visual rays.
He found that in order to bring the actinic portion of the rays to a perfect focus, it was necessary that a given crown-glass lens should be combined with a flint, which will produce a combined focal length of about ⅒ shorter than would be required to satisfy the conditions of achromatism for the eye. This combination was of course absolutely worthless for ordinary visual observation; his new lens when finished was 11¼ inches aperture and a little less than 14 feet focal length. With this he obtained impressions of ninth magnitude stars, and within the area of a square degree in the Prœsepe in Cancer twenty-three stars were photographed in three minutes’ exposure. Castor gave a strong impression in one second, and stars of 2˝ distance showed as double. But even with this method Mr. Rutherfurd was not satisfied. Coming back to the 11¼-inch object-glass which he had used at first, he determined to see whether or not the addition of a meniscus lens outside the front lens would not give him the requisite shortness of the focus and bring the actinic rays absolutely together. By this arrangement he got a telescope which can be used for all purposes of astronomical research, and he has also eclipsed all his former photographic efforts.