What he named them is the interesting part. The air pump, the sculptor chisel, the pair of compasses, the chemical furnace, the pendulum clock, the microscope, the set square, the octant, the painter easel, the mariner compass, the net, the sculptor studio, the telescope, and Table Mountain itself. Not one god, not one hero, not one animal from a story. Where the northern sky carries figures whose names travelled from Mesopotamia through Greece and were already ancient when they were written down, the far south was named in the eighteenth century by a man who filled it with the contents of a workshop.
The consequence for this atlas is worth stating carefully. The far southern sky is the one large region of the celestial sphere that carries almost no mythology in the Western tradition, which is a fact about Europe and not about the sky. The peoples who had been living under those stars for tens of thousands of years had their own detailed accounts of them, and in Australia in particular the songlines associated with the Seven Sisters and the dark shapes read in the Milky Way are living tradition rather than survivals. Lacaille names sit on top of that, and the atlas holds both layers rather than treating the European chart as the map of an empty sky.