Part 21 (1/2)
It was on the 23rd of September that Le Verrier's letter reached Dr.
Galle at Berlin. The sky that night was clear, and we can imagine with what anxiety Dr. Galle directed his telescope to the heavens. The instrument was pointed in accordance with Le Verrier's instructions. The field of view showed a mult.i.tude of stars, as does every part of the heavens. One of these was really the planet. The new chart was unrolled, and, star by star, the heavens were compared with it. As the identification of the stars went on, one object after another was found to lie in the heavens as it was engraved on the chart, and was of course rejected. At length a star of the eighth magnitude--a brilliant object--was brought into review. The chart was examined, but there was no star there. This object could not have been in its present place when the chart was formed. The object was therefore a wanderer--a planet. Yet it was necessary to be cautious in such a matter. Many possibilities had to be guarded against. It was, for instance, at least conceivable that the object was really a star which, by some mischance, eluded the careful eye of the astronomer who had constructed the map. It was even possible that the star might be one of the large cla.s.s of variables which alternate in brightness, and it might have been too faint to have been visible when the chart was made. Or it might be one of the minor planets moving between Mars and Jupiter. Even if none of these explanations would answer, it was still necessary to show that the object was moving with that particular velocity and in that particular direction which the theory of Le Verrier indicated. The lapse of a single day was sufficient to dissipate all doubts. The next night the object was again observed. It had moved, and when its motion was measured it was found to accord precisely with what Le Verrier had foretold. Indeed, as if no circ.u.mstance in the confirmation should be wanting, the diameter of the planet, as measured by the micrometers at Berlin, proved to be practically coincident with that antic.i.p.ated by Le Verrier.
The world speedily rang with the news of this splendid achievement.
Instantly the name of Le Verrier rose to a pinnacle hardly surpa.s.sed by that of any astronomer of any age or country. The circ.u.mstances of the discovery were highly dramatic. We picture the great astronomer buried in profound meditation for many months; his eyes are bent, not on the stars, but on his calculations. No telescope is in his hand; the human intellect is the instrument he alone uses. With patient labour, guided by consummate mathematical artifice, he manipulates his columns of figures. He attempts one solution after another. In each he learns something to avoid; by each he obtains some light to guide him in his future labours. At length he begins to see harmony in those results where before there was but discord. Gradually the clouds disperse, and he discerns with a certainty little short of actual vision the planet glittering in the far depths of s.p.a.ce. He rises from his desk and invokes the aid of a practical astronomer; and lo! there is the planet in the indicated spot. The annals of science present no such spectacle as this. It was the most triumphant proof of the law of universal gravitation. The Newtonian theory had indeed long ere this attained an impregnable position; but, as if to place its truth in the most conspicuous light, this discovery of Neptune was accomplished.
For a moment it seemed as if the French were to enjoy the undivided honour of this splendid triumph; nor would it, indeed, have been unfitting that the nation which gave birth to Lagrange and to Laplace, and which developed the great Newtonian theory by their immortal labours, should have obtained this distinction. Up to the time of the telescopic discovery of the planet by Dr. Galle at Berlin, no public announcement had been made of the labours of Challis in searching for the planet, nor even of the theoretical researches of Adams on which those observations were based. But in the midst of the paeans of triumph with which the enthusiastic French nation hailed the discovery of Le Verrier, there appeared a letter from Sir John Herschel in the _Athenaeum_ for 3rd October, 1846, in which he announced the researches made by Adams, and claimed for him a partic.i.p.ation in the glory of the discovery. Subsequent enquiry has shown that this claim was a just one, and it is now universally admitted by all independent authorities. Yet it will easily be imagined that the French _savants_, jealous of the fame of their countryman, could not at first be brought to recognise a claim so put forward. They were asked to divide the unparalleled honour between their own ill.u.s.trious countryman and a young foreigner of whom but few had ever heard, and who had not even published a line of his work, nor had any claim been made on his part until after the work had been completely finished by Le Verrier. The demand made on behalf of Adams was accordingly refused any acknowledgment in France; and an embittered controversy was the consequence. Point by point the English astronomers succeeded in establis.h.i.+ng the claim of their countryman. It was true that Adams had not published his researches to the world, but he had communicated them to the Astronomer-Royal, the official head of the science in this country. They were also well known to Professor Challis, the Professor of Astronomy at Cambridge. Then, too, the work of Adams was published, and it was found to be quite as thorough and quite as successful as that of Le Verrier. It was also found that the method of search adopted by Professor Challis not only must have been eventually successful, but that it actually was in a sense already successful. When the telescopic discovery of the planet had been achieved, Challis turned naturally to see whether he had observed the new globe also. It was on the 1st October that he heard of the success of Dr. Galle, and by that time Challis had acc.u.mulated observations in connection with this research of no fewer than 3,150 stars. Among them he speedily found that an object observed on the 12th of August was not in the same place on the 30th of July. This was really the planet; and its discovery would thus have been a.s.sured had Challis had time to compare his measurements. In fact, if he had only discussed his observations at once, there cannot be much doubt that the entire glory of the discovery would have been awarded to Adams. He would then have been first, no less in the theoretical calculations than in the optical verification of the planet's existence. It may also be remarked that Challis narrowly missed making the discovery of Neptune in another way.
Le Verrier had pointed out in his paper the possibility of detecting the sought-for globe by its disc. Challis made the attempt, and before the intelligence of the actual discovery at Berlin had reached him he had made an examination of the region indicated by Le Verrier. About 300 stars pa.s.sed through the field of view, and among them he selected one on account of its disc; it afterwards appeared that this was indeed the planet.
If the researches of Le Verrier and of Adams had never been undertaken it is certain that the distant Neptune must have been some time discovered; yet that might have been made in a manner which every true lover of science would now deplore. We hear constantly that new minor planets are observed, yet no one attaches to such achievements a fraction of the consequence belonging to the discovery of Neptune. The danger was, that Neptune should have been merely dropped upon by simple survey work, just as Ura.n.u.s was discovered, or just as the hosts of minor planets are now found. In this case Theoretical Astronomy, the great science founded by Newton, would have been deprived of its most brilliant ill.u.s.tration.
Neptune had, in fact, a very narrow escape on at least one previous occasion of being discovered in a very simple way. This was shown when sufficient observations had been collected to enable the path of the planet to be calculated. It was then possible to trace back the movements of the planet among the stars and thus to inst.i.tute a search in the catalogues of earlier astronomers to see whether they contained any record of Neptune, erroneously noted as a star. Several such instances have been discovered. I shall, however, only refer to one, which possesses a singular interest. It was found that the place of the planet on May 10th, 1795, must have coincided with that of a so-called star recorded on that day in the ”Histoire Celeste” of Lalande. By actual examination of the heavens it further appeared that there was no star in the place indicated by Lalande, so the fact that here was really an observation of Neptune was placed quite beyond doubt. When reference was made to the original ma.n.u.scripts of Lalande, a matter of great interest was brought to light. It was there found that he had observed the same star (for so he regarded it) both on May 8th and on May 10th; on each day he had determined its position, and both observations are duly recorded. But when he came to prepare his catalogue and found that the places on the two occasions were different, he discarded the earlier result, and merely printed the latter.
Had Lalande possessed a proper confidence in his own observations, an immortal discovery lay in his grasp; had he manfully said, ”I was right on the 10th of May and I was right on the 8th of May; I made no mistake on either occasion, and the object I saw on the 8th must have moved between that and the 10th,” then he must without fail have found Neptune. But had he done so, how lamentable would have been the loss to science! The discovery of Neptune would then merely have been an accidental reward to a laborious worker, instead of being one of the most glorious achievements in the loftiest department of human reason.
Besides this brief sketch of the discovery of Neptune, we have but little to tell with regard to this distant planet. If we fail to see in Ura.n.u.s any of those features which make Mars or Venus, Jupiter or Saturn, such attractive telescopic objects, what can we expect to find in Neptune, which is half as far again as Ura.n.u.s? With a good telescope and a suitable magnifying power we can indeed see that Neptune has a disc, but no features on that disc can be identified. We are consequently not in a position to ascertain the period in which Neptune rotates around its axis, though from the general a.n.a.logy of the system we must feel a.s.sured that it really does rotate. More successful have been the attempts to measure the diameter of Neptune, which is found to be about 35,000 miles, or more than four times the diameter of the earth. It would also seem that, like Jupiter and like Saturn, the planet must be enveloped with a vast cloud-laden atmosphere, for the mean density of the globe is only about one-fifth that of the earth. This great globe revolves around the sun at a mean distance of no less than 2,800 millions of miles, which is about thirty times as great as the mean distance from the earth to the sun. The journey, though accomplished at the rate of more than three miles a second, is yet so long that Neptune requires almost 165 years to complete one revolution.
Since its discovery, some fifty years ago, Neptune has moved through about one-third of its path, and even since the date when it was first casually seen by Lalande, in 1795, it has only had time to traverse three-fifths of its mighty circuit.
Neptune, like our earth, is attended by a single satellite; this delicate object was discovered by Mr. La.s.sell with his two-foot reflecting telescope shortly after the planet itself became known. The motion of the satellite of Neptune is nearly circular. Its...o...b..t is inclined at an angle of about 35 to the Ecliptic, and it is specially noteworthy that, like the satellites of Ura.n.u.s, the direction of the motion runs counter to the planetary movements generally. The satellite performs its journey around Neptune in a period of a little less than six days. By observing the motions of this moon we are enabled to determine the ma.s.s of the planet, and thus it appears that the weight of Neptune is about one nineteen-thousandth part of that of the sun.
No planets beyond Neptune have been seen, nor is there at present any good ground for believing in their existence as visual objects. In the chapter on the minor planets I have entered into a discussion of the way in which these objects are discovered. It is by minute and diligent comparison of the heavens with elaborate star charts that these bodies are brought to light. Such enquiries would be equally efficacious in searching for an ultra-Neptunian planet; in fact, we could design no better method to seek for such a body, if it existed, than that which is at this moment in constant practice at many observatories. The labours of those who search for small planets have been abundantly rewarded with discoveries now counted by hundreds. Yet it is a noteworthy fact that all these planets are limited to one region of the solar system. It has sometimes been conjectured that time may disclose perturbations in the orbit of Neptune, and that these perturbations may lead to the discovery of a planet still more remote, even though that planet be so distant and so faint that it eludes all telescopic research. At present, however, such an enquiry can hardly come within the range of practical astronomy.
Its movements have no doubt been studied minutely, but it must describe a larger part of its...o...b..t before it would be feasible to conclude, from the perturbations of its path, the existence of an unknown and still more remote planet.
We have thus seen that the planetary system is bounded on one side by Mercury and on the other by Neptune. The discovery of Mercury was an achievement of prehistoric times. The early astronomer who accomplished that feat, when devoid of instrumental a.s.sistance and unsupported by accurate theoretical knowledge, merits our hearty admiration for his untutored acuteness and penetration. On the other hand, the discovery of the exterior boundary of the planetary system is worthy of special attention from the fact that it was founded solely on profound theoretical learning.
Though we here close our account of the planets and their satellites, we have still two chapters to add before we shall have completed what is to be said with regard to the solar system. A further and notable cla.s.s of bodies, neither planets nor satellites, own allegiance to the sun, and revolve round him in conformity with the laws of universal gravitation.
These bodies are the comets, and their somewhat more humble a.s.sociates, the shooting stars. We find in the study of these objects many matters of interest, which we shall discuss in the ensuing chapters.
CHAPTER XVI.
COMETS.
Comets contrasted with Planets in Nature as well as in their Movements--Coggia's Comet--Periodic Returns--The Law of Gravitation--Parabolic and Elliptic Orbits--Theory in Advance of Observations--Most Cometary Orbits are sensibly Parabolic--The Labours of Halley--The Comet of 1682--Halley's Memorable Prediction--The r.e.t.a.r.dation produced by Disturbance--Successive Returns of Halley's Comet--Encke's Comet--Effect of Perturbations--Orbit of Encke's Comet--Attraction of Mercury and of Jupiter--How the Ident.i.ty of the Comet is secured--How to weigh Mercury--Distance from the Earth to the Sun found by Encke's Comet--The Disturbing Medium--Remarkable Comets--Spectrum of a Comet--Pa.s.sage of a Comet between the Earth and the Stars--Can the Comet be weighed?--Evidence of the Small Ma.s.s of the Comet derived from the Theory of Perturbation--The Tail of the Comet--Its Changes--Views as to its Nature--Carbon present in Comets--Origin of Periodic Comets.
In our previous chapters, which treated of the sun and the moon, the planets and their satellites, we found in all cases that the celestial bodies with which we were concerned were nearly globular in form, and many are undoubtedly of solid substance. All these objects possess a density which, even if in some cases it be much less than that of the earth, is still hundreds of times greater than the density of merely gaseous materials. We now, however, approach the consideration of a cla.s.s of objects of a widely different character. We have no longer to deal with globular objects possessing considerable ma.s.s. Comets are of altogether irregular shape; they are in large part, at all events, formed of materials in the utmost state of tenuity, and their ma.s.ses are so small that no means we possess have enabled them to be measured. Not only are comets different in const.i.tution from planets or from the other more solid bodies of our system, but the movements of such bodies are quite distinct from the orderly return of the planets at their appointed seasons. The comets appear sometimes with almost startling unexpectedness; they rapidly swell in size to an extent that in superst.i.tious ages called forth the utmost terror; presently they disappear, in many cases never again to return. Modern science has, no doubt, removed a great deal of the mystery which once invested the whole subject of comets. Their movements are now to a large extent explained, and some additions have been made to our knowledge of their nature, though we must still confess that what we do know bears but a very small proportion to what remains unknown.
Let me first describe in general terms the nature of a comet, in so far as its structure is disclosed by the aid of a powerful refracting telescope. We represent in Plate XII. two interesting sketches made at Harvard College Observatory of the great comet of 1874, distinguished by the name of its discoverer Coggia.
We see here the head of the comet, containing as its brightest spot what is called the nucleus, and in which the material of the comet seems to be much denser than elsewhere. Surrounding the nucleus we find certain definite layers of luminous material, the coma, or head, from 20,000 to 1,000,000 miles in diameter, from which the tail seems to stream away.
This view may be regarded as that of a typical object of this cla.s.s, but the varieties of structure presented by different comets are almost innumerable. In some cases we find the nucleus absent; in other cases we find the tail to be wanting. The tail is, no doubt, a conspicuous feature in those great comets which receive universal attention; but in the small telescopic objects, of which a few are generally found every year, this feature is usually absent. Not only do comets present great varieties in appearance, but even the aspect of a single object undergoes great change. The comet will sometimes increase enormously in bulk; sometimes it will diminish; sometimes it will have a large tail, or sometimes no tail at all. Measurements of a comet's size are almost futile; they may cease to be true even during the few hours in which a comet is observed in the course of a night. It is, in fact, impossible to identify a comet by any description of its personal appearance. Yet the question as to ident.i.ty of a comet is often of very great consequence. We must provide means by which it can be established, entirely apart from what the comet may look like.
It is now well known that several of these bodies make periodic returns.
After having been invisible for a certain number of years, a comet comes into view, and again retreats into s.p.a.ce to perform another revolution.
The question then arises as to how we are to recognise the body when it does come back? The personal features of its size or brightness, the presence or absence of a tail, large or small, are fleeting characters of no value for such a purpose. Fortunately, however, the law of elliptic motion established by Kepler has suggested the means of defining the ident.i.ty of a comet with absolute precision.
After Newton had made his discovery of the law of gravitation, and succeeded in demonstrating that the elliptic paths of the planets around the sun were necessary consequences of that law, he was naturally tempted to apply the same reasoning to explain the movements of comets.
Here, again, he met with marvellous success, and ill.u.s.trated his theory by completely explaining the movements of the remarkable body which was visible from December, 1680, to March, 1681.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 69.--The Parabolic Path of a Comet.]