PLANETS AND SATELLITES

Johann Hieronymus SchrÖter was the Herschel of Germany. He did not, it is true, possess the more brilliant gifts of his rival. Herschel's piercing discernment, comprehensive intelligence, and inventive splendour were wanting to him. He was, nevertheless, the founder of descriptive astronomy in Germany, as Herschel was in England.

Born at Erfurt in 1745, he prosecuted legal studies at GÖttingen, and there imbibed from KÄstner a life-long devotion to science. From the law, however, he got the means of living, and, what was to the full as precious to him, the means of observing. Entering the sphere of Hanoverian officialism in 1788, he settled a few years later at Lilienthal, near Bremen, as "Oberamtmann," or chief magistrate. Here he built a small observatory, enriched in 1785 with a seven-foot reflector by Herschel, then one of the most powerful instruments to be found anywhere out of England. It was soon surpassed, through his exertions, by the first-fruits of native industry in that branch. Schrader of Kiel transferred his workshops to Lilienthal in 1792, and constructed there, under the superintendence and at the cost of the astronomical Oberamtmann, a thirteen-foot reflector, declared by Lalande to be the finest telescope in existence, and one twenty-seven feet in focal length, probably as inferior to its predecessor in real efficiency as it was superior in size.

Thus, with instruments of gradually increasing power, SchrÖter studied during thirty-four years the topography of the moon and planets. The field was then almost untrodden; he had but few and casual predecessors, and has since had no equal in the sustained and concentrated patience of his hourly watchings. Both their prolixity and their enthusiasm are faithfully reflected in his various treatises. Yet the one may be pardoned for the sake of the other, especially when it is remembered that he struck out a substantially new line, and that one of the main lines of future advance. Moreover, his infectious zeal communicated itself; he set the example of observing when there was scarcely an observer in Germany; and under his roof Harding and Bessel received their training as practical astronomers.

But he was reserved to see evil days. Early in 1813 the French under Vandamme occupied Bremen. On the night of April 20, the Vale of Lilies was, by their wanton destructiveness, laid waste with fire; the Government offices were destroyed, and with them the chief part of SchrÖter's property, including the whole stock of his books and writings. There was worse behind. A few days later, his observatory, which had escaped the conflagration, was broken into, pillaged, and ruined. His life was wrecked with it. He survived the catastrophe three years without the means to repair, or the power to forget it, and gradually sank from disappointment into decay, terminated by death, August 29, 1816. He had, indeed, done all the work he was capable of; and though not of the first quality, it was far from contemptible. He laid the foundation of the comparative study of the moon's surface, and the descriptive particulars of the planets laboriously collected by him constituted a store of more or less reliable information hardly added to during the ensuing half century. They rested, it is true, under some shadow of doubt; but the most recent observations have tended on several points to rehabilitate the discredited authority of the Lilienthal astronomer. We may now briefly resume, and pursue in its further progress, the course of his studies, taking the planets in the order of their distances from the sun.

In April, 1792, SchrÖter saw reason to conclude, from the gradual degradation of light on its partially illuminated disc, that Mercury possesses a tolerably dense atmosphere.[796] During the transit of May 7, 1799, he was, moreover, struck with the appearance of a ring of softened luminosity encircling the planet to an apparent height of three seconds, or about a quarter of its own diameter.[797] Although a "mere thought" in texture, it remained persistently visible both with the seven-foot and the thirteen-foot reflectors, armed with powers up to 288. It had a well-marked grayish boundary, and reminded him, though indefinitely fainter, of the penumbra of a sun-spot. A similar appendage had been noticed by De Plantade at Montpellier, November 11, 1736, and again in 1786 and 1789 by Prosperin and Flaugergues; but Herschel, on November 9, 1802, saw the preceding limb of the planet projected on the sun cut the luminous solar clouds with the most perfect sharpness.[798] The presence, however, of a "halo" was unmistakable in 1832, when Professor Moll, of Utrecht, described it as a "nebulous ring of a darker tinge approaching to the violet colour."[799] Again, to Huggins and Stone, November 5, 1868, it showed as lucid and most distinct. No change in the colour of the glasses used, or the powers applied, could get rid of it, and it lasted throughout the transit.[800] It was next seen by Christie and Dunkin at Greenwich, May 6, 1878,[801] and with much precision of detail by Trouvelot at Cambridge (U.S.).[802] Professor Holden, on the other hand, noted at Hastings-on-Hudson the total absence of all anomalous appearances.[803] Nor could any vestige of them be perceived by Barnard at Lick on November 10, 1894.[804] Various effects of irradiation and diffraction were, however, observed by Lowell and W. H. Pickering at Flagstaff;[805] and Davidson was favoured at San Francisco with glimpses of the historic aureola,[806] as well as of a central whitish spot, which often accompanies it. That both are somehow of optical production can scarcely be doubted.

Nothing can be learned from them regarding the planet's physical condition. Airy showed that refraction in a Mercurian atmosphere could not possibly originate the noted aureola, which must accordingly be set down as "strictly an ocular nervous phenomenon."[807] It is the less easy to escape from this conclusion that we find the virtually airless moon capable of exhibiting a like appendage. Professor Stephen Alexander, of the United States Survey, with two other observers, perceived, during the eclipse of the sun of July 18, 1860, the advancing lunar limb to be bordered with a bright band;[808] and photographic effects of the same kind appear in pictures of transits of Venus and partial solar eclipses.

The spectroscope affords little information as to the constitution of Mercury. Its light is of course that of the sun reflected, and its spectrum is consequently a faint echo of the Fraunhofer spectrum. Dr. H. C. Vogel, who first examined it in April, 1871, suspected traces of the action of an atmosphere like ours,[809] but, it would seem, on slight grounds. It is, however, certainly very poor in blue rays. More definite conclusions were, in 1874,[810] derived by ZÖllner from photometric observations of Mercurian phases. A similar study of the waxing and waning moon had afforded him the curious discovery that light-changes dependent upon phase vary with the nature of the reflecting surface, following a totally different law on a smooth homogeneous globe and on a rugged and mountainous one. Now the phases of Mercury—so far as could be determined from only two sets of observations—correspond with the latter kind of structure. Strictly analogous to those of the moon, they seem to indicate an analogous mode of surface-formation. This conclusion was fully borne out by MÜller's more extended observations at Potsdam during the years 1885-1893.[811] Practical assurance was gained from them that the innermost planet has a rough rind of dusky rock, absorbing all but 17 per cent. of the light poured upon it by the fierce adjacent sun. Its "albedo," in other words, is 0·17,[812] which is precisely that ascribed to the moon. The absence of any appreciable Mercurian atmosphere followed almost necessarily from these results.

On March 26, 1800, SchrÖter, observing with his 13-foot reflector in a peculiarly clear sky, perceived the southern horn of Mercury's crescent to be quite distinctly blunted.[813] Interception of sunlight by a Mercurian mountain rather more than eleven English miles high explained the effect to his satisfaction. By carefully timing its recurrence, he concluded rotation on an axis in a period of 24 hours 4 minutes. The first determination of the kind rewarded twenty years of unceasing vigilance. It received ostensible confirmation from the successive appearances of a dusky streak and blotch in May and June, 1801.[814] These, however, were inferred to be no permanent markings on the body of the planet, but atmospheric formations, the streak at times drifting forwards (it was thought) under the fluctuating influence of Mercurian breezes. From a rediscussion of these somewhat doubtful observations Bessel inferred that Mercury rotates on an axis inclined 70° to the plane of its orbit in 24 hours 53 seconds.

The rounded appearance of the southern horn seen by SchrÖter was more or less doubtfully caught by Noble (1864), Burton, and Franks (1877);[815] but was obvious to Mr. W. F. Denning at Bristol on the morning of November 5, 1882.[816] That the southern polar regions are usually less bright than the northern is well ascertained; but the cause of the deficiency remains dubious. If inequalities of surface are in question, they must be on a considerable scale; and a similar explanation might be given of the deformations of the "terminator"—or dividing-line between darkness and light in the planet's phases—first remarked by SchrÖter, and again clearly seen by Trouvelot in 1878 and 1881.[817] The displacement, during four days, of certain brilliant and dusky spaces on the disc indicated to Mr. Denning in 1882 rotation in about twenty-five hours; while the general aspect of the planet reminded him of that of Mars.[818] But the difficulties in the way of its observation are enormously enhanced by its constant close attendance on the sun.

In his sustained study of the features of Mercury, SchrÖter had no imitator until Schiaparelli took up the task at Milan in 1882. His observations were made in daylight. It was found that much more could be seen, and higher magnifying powers used, high up in the sky near the sun, than at low altitudes, through the agitated air of morning or evening twilight. A notable discovery ensued.[819] Following the planet hour by hour, instead of making necessarily brief inspections at intervals of about a day, as previous observers had done, it was found that the markings faintly visible remained sensibly fixed, hence, that there was no rotation in a period at all comparable with that of the earth. And after long and patient watching, the conclusion was at last reached that Mercury turns on his axis in the same time needed to complete a revolution in his orbit. One of his hemispheres, then, is always averted from the sun, as one of the moon's hemispheres from the earth, while the other never shifts from beneath his torrid rays. The "librations," however, of Mercury are on a larger scale than those of the moon, because he travels in a more eccentric path. The temporary inequalities arising between his "even pacing" on an axis and his alternately accelerated and retarded elliptical movement occasion, in fact, an oscillation to and fro of the boundaries of light and darkness on his globe over an arc of 47° 22', in the course of his year of 88 days. Thus the regions of perpetual day and perpetual night are separated by two segments, amounting to one-fourth of the entire surface, where the sun rises and sets once in 88 days. Else there is no variation from the intense glare on one side of the globe, and the nocturnal blackness on the other.

To Schiaparelli's scrutiny, Mercury appeared as a "spotty globe," enveloped in a tolerably dense atmosphere. The brownish stripes and streaks, discerned on his rose-tinged disc, and judged to be permanent, were made the basis of a chart. They were not indeed always equally well seen. They disappeared regularly near the limb, and were at times veiled even when centrally situated. Some of them had been clearly perceived by De Ball at Bothkamp in 1882.[820]

Mr. Lowell followed Schiaparelli's example by observing Mercury in the full glare of noon. "The best time to study him," he remarked, "is when planetary almanacs state 'Mercury invisible.'" A remarkable series of drawings executed, some at Flagstaff in 1896, the remainder at Mexico in 1897, supplied grounds for the following, among other, conclusions.[821] Mercury rotates synchronously with its revolution—that is, once in 88 days—on an axis sensibly perpendicular to its orbital plane. No certain signs of a Mercurian atmosphere are visible. The globe is seamed and furrowed with long narrow markings, explicable as cracks in cooling. It is, and always was, a dead world. From micrometrical measures, moreover, the inferences were drawn that the planet's mass has a probable value about 1/20 that of the earth, while its mean density falls considerably short of the terrestrial standard.

The theory of Mercury's movements has always given trouble. In Lalande's,[822] as in MÄstlin's time, the planet seemed to exist for no other purpose than to throw discredit on astronomers; and even to Leverrier's powerful analysis it long proved recalcitrant. On the 12th of September, 1869, however, he was able to announce before the Academy of Sciences[823] the terms of a compromise between observation and calculation. They involved the addition of a new member to the solar system. The hitherto unrecognised presence of a body about the size of Mercury itself revolving at somewhat less than half its mean distance from the sun (or, if farther, then of less mass, and vice versÂ), would, it was pointed out, produce exactly the effect required, of displacing the perihelion of the former planet 38' a century more than could otherwise be accounted for. The planes of the two orbits, however, should not lie far apart, as otherwise a nodal disturbance would arise not perceived to exist. It was added that a ring of asteroids similarly placed would answer the purpose equally well, and was more likely to have escaped notice.

Upon the heels of this forecast followed promptly a seeming verification. Dr. Lescarbault, a physician residing at OrgÈres, whose slender opportunities had not blunted his hopes of achievement, had, ever since 1845, when he witnessed a transit of Mercury, cherished the idea that an unknown planet might be caught thus projected on the solar background. Unable to observe continuously until 1858, he, on March 26, 1859, saw what he had expected—a small perfectly round object slowly traversing the sun's disc. The fruitless expectation of reobserving the phenomenon, however, kept him silent, and it was not until December 22, after the news of Leverrier's prediction had reached him, that he wrote to acquaint him with his supposed discovery.[824] The Imperial Astronomer thereupon hurried down to OrgÈres, and by personal inspection of the simple apparatus used, by searching cross-examination and local inquiry, convinced himself of the genuine character and substantial accuracy of the reported observation. He named the new planet "Vulcan," and computed elements giving it a period of revolution slightly under twenty days.[825] But it has never since been seen. M. Liais, director of the Brazilian Coast Survey, thought himself justified in asserting that it never had been seen. Observing the sun for twelve minutes after the supposed ingress recorded at OrgÈres, he noted those particular regions of its surface as "trÈs uniformes d'intensitÉ."[826] He subsequently, however, admitted Lescarbault's good faith, at first rashly questioned. The planet-seeking doctor was, in truth, only one among many victims of similar illusions.

Waning interest in the subject was revived by a fresh announcement of a transit witnessed, it was asserted, by Weber at Peckeloh, April 4, 1876.[827] The pseudo-planet, indeed, was detected shortly afterwards on the Greenwich photographs, and was found to have been seen by M. Ventosa at Madrid in its true character of a sun-spot without penumbra; but Leverrier had meantime undertaken the investigation of a list of twenty similar dubious appearances, collected by Haase, and republished by Wolf in 1872.[828] From these, five were picked out as referring in all likelihood to the same body, the reality of whose existence was now confidently asserted, and of which more or less probable transits were fixed for March 22, 1877, and October 15, 1882.[829] But, widespread watchfulness notwithstanding, no suspicious object came into view at either epoch.

The next announcement of the discovery of "Vulcan" was on the occasion of the total solar eclipse of July 29, 1878.[830] This time it was stated to have been seen at some distance south-west of the obscured sun, as a ruddy star with a minute planetary disc; and its simultaneous detection by two observers—the late Professor James C. Watson, stationed at Rawlins (Wyoming Territory), and Professor Lewis Swift at Denver (Colorado)—was at first readily admitted. But their separate observations could, on a closer examination, by no possibility be brought into harmony, and, if valid, certainly referred to two distinct objects, if not to four; each astronomer eventually claiming a pair of planets. Nor could any one of the four be identified with Lescarbault's and Leverrier's Vulcan, which, if a substantial body revolving round the sun, must then have been found on the east side of that luminary.[831] The most feasible explanation of the puzzle seems to be that Watson and Swift merely saw each the same two stars in Cancer: haste and excitement doing the rest.[832] Nevertheless, they strenuously maintained their opposite conviction.[833]

Intra-Mercurian planets have since been diligently searched for when the opportunity of a total eclipse offered, especially during the long obscuration at Caroline Island. Not only did Professor Holden "sweep" in the solar vicinity, but Palisa and Trouvelot agreed to divide the field of exploration, and thus make sure of whatever planetary prey there might be within reach; yet with only negative results. Photographic explorations during recent eclipses have been equally fruitless. Belief in the presence of any considerable body or bodies within the orbit of Mercury is, accordingly, at a low ebb. Yet the existence of the anomaly in the Mercurian movements indicated by Leverrier has been made only surer by further research.[834] Its elucidation constitutes one of the "pending problems" of astronomy.

From the observation at Bologna in 1666-67 of some very faint spots, Domenico Cassini concluded a rotation or libration of Venus—he was not sure which—in about twenty-three hours.[835] By Bianchini in 1726 the period was augmented to twenty-four days eight hours. J. J. Cassini, however, in 1740, showed that the data collected by both observers were consistent with rotation in twenty-three hours twenty minutes.[836] So the matter rested until SchrÖter's time. After watching nine years in vain, he at last, February 28, 1788, perceived the ordinarily uniform brightness of the planet's disc to be marbled with a filmy streak, which returned periodically to the same position in about twenty-three hours twenty-eight minutes. This approximate estimate was corrected by the application of a more definite criterion. On December 28, 1789, the southern horn of the crescent Venus was seen truncated, an outlying lucid point interrupting the darkness beyond. Precisely the same appearance recurred two years later, giving for the planet's rotation a period of 23h. 21m.[837] To this only twenty-two seconds were added by De Vico, as the result of over 10,000 observations made with the Cauchoix refractor of the Collegio Romano, 1839-41.[838] The axis of rotation was found to be much more bowed towards the orbital plane than that of the earth, the equator making with it an angle of 53° 11'.

These conclusions inspired, it is true, much distrust, consequently there were no received ideas on the subject to be subverted. Nevertheless, a shock of surprise was felt at Schiaparelli's announcement, early in 1890,[839] that Venus most probably rotates after the fashion just previously ascribed to Mercury. A continuous series of observations, from November, 1877, to February, 1878, with their records in above a hundred drawings, supplied the chief part of the data upon which he rested his conclusions. They certainly appeared exceptionally well-grounded; and the doubts at first qualifying them were removed by a fresh set of determinations in July, 1895.[840] Most observers had depended, in their attempts to ascertain the rotation-period of Venus, upon evanescent shadings, most likely of atmospheric origin, and scarcely recognisable from day to day. Schiaparelli fixed his attention upon round, defined, lustrously white spots, the presence of which near the cusps of the illuminated crescent has been attested for close upon two centuries. His steady watch over them showed the invariability of their position with regard to the terminator; and this is as much as to say that the regions of day and night do not shift on the surface of the planet. In other words, she keeps the same face always turned towards the sun. Moreover, since her orbit is nearly circular, libratory effects are very small. They amount in fact to only just one-thirtieth of those serving to modify the severe contrasts of climate in Mercury.

Confirmatory evidence of Schiaparelli's result for Venus is not wanting. Thus, observations irreconcilable with a swift rate of rotation were made at Bothkamp in 1871 by Vogel and Lohse;[841] and a drawing executed by Professor Holden with the great Washington reflector, December 15, 1877, showed the same markings in the positions recorded at Milan to have been occupied by them eight hours previously. Further, a series of observations, carried out by M. Perrotin at Nice, May 15 to October 4, 1890, and from Mount Mounier in 1895-6, with the special aim of testing the inference of synchronous rotation and revolution, proved strongly corroborative of it.[842] A remarkable collection of drawings made by Mr. Lowell in 1896 appeared decisive in its favour;[843] Tacchini at Rome,[844] Mascari at Catania and Etna,[845] Cerulli at Terano,[846] obtained in 1892-6 evidence similar in purport. On the other hand, Niesten of Brussels found reason to revert to Vico's discarded elements for the planet's rotation;[847] and Trouvelot,[848] Stanley Williams,[849] Villiger,[850] and Leo Brenner,[851] so far agreed with him as to adopt a period of approximately twenty-four hours. Finally, E. Von Oppolzer suggested an appeal to the spectroscope;[852] and BÉlopolsky secured in 1900[853] spectrograms apparently marked by the minute displacements corresponding to a rapid rate of axial movement. But they were avowedly taken only as an experiment, with unsuitable apparatus; and the desirable verification of their supposed import is not yet forthcoming. Until it is, Schiaparelli's period of 225 days must be allowed to hold the field.

Effects attributed to great differences of level in the surface of Venus have struck many observers. Francesco Fontana at Naples in 1643 noticed irregularities along the inner edge of the crescent.[854] Lahire in 1700 considered them—regard being had to difference of distance—to be much more strongly marked than those visible in the moon.[855] SchrÖter's assertions to the same effect, though scouted with some unnecessary vehemence by Herschel,[856] have since been repeatedly confirmed; amongst others by MÄdler, De Vico, Langdon, who in 1873 saw the broken line of the terminator with peculiar distinctness through a veil of auroral cloud;[857] by Denning,[858] March 30, 1881, despite preliminary impressions to the contrary, as well as by C. V. Zenger at Prague, January 8, 1883. The great mountain mass, presumed to occasion the periodical blunting of the southern horn, was precariously estimated by the Lilienthal observer to rise to the prodigious height of nearly twenty-seven miles, or just five times the elevation of Mount Everest! Yet the phenomenon persists, whatever may be thought of the explanation. Moreover, the speck of light beyond, interpreted as the visible sign of a detached peak rising high enough above the encircling shadow to catch the first and last rays of the sun, was frequently discerned by Baron Van Ertborn in 1876;[859] while an object near the northern horn of the crescent, strongly resembling a lunar ring-mountain, was delineated both by De Vico in 1841 and by Denning forty years later.

We are almost equally sure that Venus, as that the earth is encompassed with an atmosphere. Yet, notwithstanding luminous appearances plainly due to refraction during the transits both of 1761 and 1769, SchrÖter, in 1792, took the initiative in coming to a definite conclusion on the subject.[860] It was founded, first, on the rapid diminution of brilliancy towards the terminator, attributed to atmospheric absorption; next, on the extension beyond a semicircle of the horns of the crescent; lastly, on the presence of a bluish gleam illuminating the early hours of the Cytherean night with what was taken to be genuine twilight. Even Herschel admitted that sunlight, by the same effect through which the heavenly bodies show visibly above our horizons while still geometrically below them, appeared to be bent round the shoulder of the globe of Venus. Ample confirmation of the fact has since been afforded. At Dorpat in May, 1849, the planet being within 3° 26' of inferior conjunction, MÄdler found the arms of waning light upon the disc to embrace no less than 240° of its extent;[861] and in December, 1842, Mr. Guthrie, of Bervie, N.B., actually observed, under similar conditions, the whole circumference to be lit up with a faint nebulous glow.[862] The same curious phenomenon was intermittently seen by Mr. Leeson Prince at Uckfield in September, 1861;[863] but with more satisfactory distinctness by Mr. C. S. Lyman of Yale College,[864] before and after the conjunction of December 11, 1866, and during nearly five hours previous to the transit of 1874, when the yellowish ring of refracted light showed at one point an approach to interruption, possibly through the intervention of a bank of clouds. Again, on December 2, 1898, Venus being 1° 45' from the sun's centre, Mr. H. N. Russell, of the Halsted Observatory, descried the coalescence of the cusps, and founded on the observation a valuable discussion of such effects.[865] Taking account of certain features in the case left unnoticed by Neison[866] and Proctor,[867] he inferred from them the presence of a Cytherean atmosphere considerably less refractive than our own, although possibly, in its lower strata, encumbered with dust or haze.

Similar appearances are conspicuous during transits. But while the Mercurian halo is characteristically seen on the sun, the "silver thread" round the limb of Venus commonly shows on the part off the sun. There are, however, instances of each description in both cases. Mr. Grant, in collecting the records of physical phenomena accompanying the transits of 1761 and 1769, remarks that no one person saw both kinds of annulus, and argues a dissimilarity in their respective modes of production.[868] Such a dissimilarity probably exists, in the sense that the inner section of the ring is illusory, the outer, a genuine result of the bending of light in a gaseous envelope; but the distinction of separate visibility has not been borne out by recent experience. Several of the Australian observers during the transit of 1874 witnessed the complete phenomenon. Mr. J. Macdonnell, at Eden, saw a "shadowy nebulous ring" surround the whole disc when ingress was two-thirds accomplished; Mr. Tornaghi, at Goulburn, perceived a halo, entire and unmistakable, at half egress.[869] Similar observations were made at Sydney,[870] and were renewed in 1882 by Lescarbault at OrgÈres, by Metzger in Java, and by Barnard at Vanderbilt University.[871]

Spectroscopic indications of aqueous vapour as present in the atmosphere of Venus, were obtained in 1874 and 1882, by Tacchini and RiccÒ in Italy, and by Young in New Jersey.[872] Janssen, however, who made a special study of the point subsequently to the transit of 1882, found them much less certain than he had anticipated;[873] and Vogel, by repeated examinations, 1871-73, could detect only the very slightest variations from the pattern of the solar spectrum. Some additions there indeed seem to be in the thickening of a few water and oxygen-lines; but so nearly evanescent as to induce the persuasion that most of the light we receive from Venus has traversed only the tenuous upper portion of its atmosphere.[874] It is reflected, at any rate, with comparatively slight diminution. On the 26th and 27th of September, 1878, a close conjunction gave Mr. James Nasmyth the rare opportunity of watching Venus and Mercury for several hours side by side in the field of his reflector; when the former appeared to him like clean silver, the latter as dull as lead or zinc.[875] Yet the light incident upon Mercury is, on an average, three and a half times as strong as the light reaching Venus. Thus, the reflective power of Venus must be singularly strong. And we find, accordingly, from a combination of ZÖllner's with MÜller's results, that its albedo is but little inferior to that of new-fallen snow; in other words, it gives back 77 per cent. of the luminous rays impinging upon it.

This extraordinary brilliancy would be intelligible were it permissible to suppose that we see nothing of the planet but a dense canopy of clouds. But the hypothesis is discountenanced by the Flagstaff observations, and is irreconcilable with the visibility of mountainous elevations, and permanent surface-markings. To Mr. Lowell these were so distinct and unchanging as to furnish data for a chart of the Cytherean globe, and the peculiar arrangement of divergent shading exhibited in it cannot off-hand be set down as unreal, in view of Perrotin's earlier discernment of analogous linear traces. Gruithuisen's "snow-caps,"[876] however—it is safe to say—do not exist as such; although shining regions near the poles form a well-attested trait of the strange Cytherean landscape.

The "secondary," or "ashen light," of Venus was first noticed by Riccioli in 1643; it was seen by Derham about 1715, by Kirch in 1721, by SchrÖter and Harding in 1806;[877] and the reality of the appearance has since been authenticated by numerous and trustworthy observations. It is precisely similar to that of the "old moon in the new moon's arms"; and Zenger, who witnessed it with unusual distinctness, January 8, 1883,[878] supposes it due to the same cause—namely, to the faint gleam of reflected earth-light from the night-side of the planet. When we remember, however, that "full earth-light" on Venus, at its nearest, has little more than 1/12000 its intensity on the moon, we see at once that the explanation is inadequate. Nor can Professor Safarik's,[879] by phosphorescence of the warm and teeming oceans with which ZÖllner[880] regarded the globe of Venus as mainly covered, be seriously entertained. Vogel's suggestion is more plausible. He and O. Lohse, at Bothkamp, November 3 to 11, 1871, saw the dark hemisphere partially illuminated by secondary light, extending 30° from the terminator, and thought the effect might be produced by a very extensive twilight.[881] Others have had recourse to the analogy of our aurorÆ, and J. Lamp suggested that the grayish gleam, visible to him at Bothkamp, October 21 and 26, 1887,[882] might be an accompaniment of electrical processes connected with the planet's meteorology. Whatever the origin of the phenomenon, it may serve, on a night-enwrapt hemisphere, to dissipate some of the thick darkness otherwise encroached upon only by "the pale light of stars."

Venus was once supposed to possess a satellite. But belief in its existence has died out. No one, indeed, has caught even a deceptive glimpse of such an object during the last 125 years. Yet it was repeatedly and, one might have thought, well observed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Fontana "discovered" it in 1645; Cassini—an adept in the art of seeing—recognised it in 1672, and again in 1686; Short watched it for a full hour in 1740 with varied instrumental means; Tobias Mayer in 1759, Montaigne in 1761; several astronomers at Copenhagen in March, 1764, noted what they considered its unmistakable presence; as did Horrebow in 1768. But M. Paul Stroobant,[883] who in 1887 submitted all the available data on the subject to a searching examination, identified Horrebow's satellite with ? LibrÆ, a fifth-magnitude star; and a few other apparitions were, by his industry, similarly explained away. Nevertheless, several withstood all efforts to account for them, and together form a most curious case of illusion. For it is quite certain that Venus has no such conspicuous attendant.

The third planet encountered in travelling outward from the sun is the abode of man. He has in consequence opportunities for studying its physical habitudes altogether different from the baffling glimpse afforded to him of the other members of the solar family.

Regarding the earth, then, a mass of knowledge so varied and comprehensive has been accumulated as to form a science—or rather several sciences—apart. But underneath all lie astronomical relations, the recognition and investigation of which constitute one of the most significant intellectual events of the present century.

It is indeed far from easy to draw a line of logical distinction between items of knowledge which have their proper place here, and those which should be left to the historian of geology. There are some, however, of which the cosmical connections are so close that it is impossible to overlook them. Among these is the ascertainment of the solidity of the globe. At first sight it seems difficult to conceive what the apparent positions of the stars can have to do with subterranean conditions; yet it was from star measurements alone that Hopkins, in 1839, concluded the earth to be solid to a depth of at least 800 or 1,000 miles.[884] His argument was, that if it were a mere shell filled with liquid, precession and nutation would be much larger than they are observed to be. For the shell alone would follow the pull of the sun and moon on its equatorial girdle, leaving the liquid behind; and being thus so much the lighter, would move the more readily. There is, it is true, grave reason to doubt whether this reasoning corresponds with the actual facts of the case;[885] but the conclusion to which it led has been otherwise affirmed and extended.

Indications of an identical purport have been derived from another kind of external disturbance, affecting our globe through the same agencies. Lord Kelvin (then Sir William Thomson) pointed out in 1862[886] that tidal influences are brought to bear on land as well as on water, although obedience to them is perceptible only in the mobile element. Some bodily distortion of the earth's figure must, however, take place, unless we suppose it of absolute or "preternatural" rigidity, and the amount of such distortion can be determined from its effect in diminishing oceanic tides below their calculated value. For if the earth were perfectly plastic to the stresses of solar and lunar gravity, tides—in the ordinary sense—would not exist. Continents and oceans would swell and subside together. It is to the difference in the behaviour of solid and liquid terrestrial constituents that the ebb and flow of the waters are due.

Six years later, the distinguished Glasgow professor suggested that this criterion might, by the aid of a prolonged series of exact tidal observations, be practically applied to test the interior condition of our planet.[887] In 1882, accordingly, suitable data extending over thirty-three years having at length become available, Mr. G. H. Darwin performed the laborious task of their analysis, with the general result that the "effective rigidity" of the earth's mass must be at least as great as that of steel.[888]

Ratification from an unexpected quarter has lately been brought to this conclusion. The question of a possible mobility in the earth's axis of rotation has often been mooted. Now at last it has received an affirmative reply. Dr. KÜstner detected, in his observations of 1884-85, effects apparently springing from a minute variation in the latitude of Berlin. The matter having been brought before the International Geodetic Association in 1888, special observations were set on foot at Berlin, Potsdam, Prague, and Strasbourg, the upshot of which was to bring plainly to view synchronous, and seemingly periodic fluctuations of latitude to the extent of half a second of arc. The reality of these was verified by an expedition to Honolulu in 1891-92, the variations there corresponding inversely to those simultaneously determined in Europe.[889] Their character was completely defined by Mr. S. C. Chandler's discussion in October, 1891.[890] He showed that they could be explained by supposing the pole of the earth to describe a circle with a radius of thirty feet in a period of fourteen months. Confirmation of this hypothesis was found by Dr. B. A. Gould in the Cordoba observations,[891] and it was provided with a physical basis through the able co-operation of Professor Newcomb.[892] The earth, owing to its ellipsoidal shape, should, apart from disturbance, rotate upon its "axis of figure," or shortest diameter; since thus alone can the centrifugal forces generated by its spinning balance each other. Temporary causes, however, such as heavy falls of snow or rain limited to one continental area, the shifting of ice-masses, even the movements of winds, may render the globe slightly lop-sided, and thus oblige it to forsake its normal axis, and rotate on one somewhat divergent from it. This "instantaneous axis" (for it is incessantly changing) must, by mathematical theory, revolve round the axis of figure in a period of 306 days. Provided, that is to say, the earth were a perfectly rigid body. But it is far from being so; it yields sensibly to every strain put upon it; and this yielding tends to protract the time of circulation of the displaced pole. The length of its period, then, serves as a kind of measure of the plasticity of the globe; which, according to Newcomb's and S. S. Hough's independent calculations,[893] seems to be a little less than that of steel. In an earth compacted of steel, the instantaneous axis would revolve in 441 days; in the actual earth, the process is accomplished in 428 days. By this new path, accordingly, astronomers have been led to an identical estimate of the consistence of our globe with that derived from tidal investigations.

Variations of latitude are intrinsically complex. To produce them, an incalculable interplay of causes must be at work, each with its proper period and law of action.[894] All the elements of the phenomenon are then in a perpetual state of flux,[895] and absorb for their continual redetermination, the arduous and combined labours of many astronomers. Nor is this trouble superfluous. Minute in extent though they be, the shiftings of the pole menace the very foundations of exact celestial science; their neglect would leave the entire fabric insecure. Just at the beginning of the present century they reached a predicted minimum, but are expected again to augment their range after the year 1902. The interesting suggestion has been made by Mr. J. Halm that such fluctuations are, in some obscure way, affected by changes in solar activity, and conform like them to an eleven-year cycle.[896]

In a paper read before the Geological Society, December 15, 1830,[897] Sir John Herschel threw out the idea that the perplexing changes of climate revealed by the geological record might be explained through certain slow fluctuations in the eccentricity of the earth's orbit, produced by the disturbing action of the other planets. Shortly afterwards, however, he abandoned the position as untenable;[898] and it was left to the late Dr. James Croll, in 1864[899] and subsequent years, to reoccupy and fortify it. Within restricted limits (as Lagrange and, more certainly and definitely, Leverrier proved), the path pursued by our planet round the sun alternately contracts, in the course of ages, into a moderate ellipse, and expands almost to a circle, the major axis, and consequently the mean distance, remaining invariable. Even at present, when the eccentricity approaches a minimum, the sun is nearer to us in January than in July by above three million miles, and some 850,000 years ago this difference was more than four times as great. Dr. Croll brought together[900] a mass of evidence to support the view, that, at epochs of considerable eccentricity, the hemisphere of which the winter, occurring at aphelion, was both intensified and prolonged, must have undergone extensive glaciation; while the opposite hemisphere, with a short, mild winter, and long, cool summer, enjoyed an approach to perennial spring. These conditions were exactly reversed at the end of 10,500 years, through the shifting of the perihelion combined with the precession of the equinoxes, the frozen hemisphere blooming into a luxuriant garden as its seasons came round to occur at the opposite sites of the terrestrial orbit, and the vernal hemisphere subsiding simultaneously into ice-bound rigour.[901] Thus a plausible explanation was offered of the anomalous alternations of glacial and semi-tropical periods, attested, on incontrovertible geological evidence, as having succeeded each other in times past over what are now temperate regions. They succeeded each other, it is true, with much less frequency and regularity than the theory demanded; but the discrepancy was overlooked or smoothed away. The most recent glacial epoch was placed by Dr. Croll about 200,000 years ago, when the eccentricity of the earth's orbit was 3·4 times as great as it is now. At present a faint representation of such a state of things is afforded by the southern hemisphere. One condition of glaciation in the coincidence of winter with the maximum of remoteness from the sun, is present; the other—a high eccentricity—is deficient. Yet the ring of ice-bound territory hemming in the southern pole is well known to be far more extensive than the corresponding region in the north.

The verification of this ingenious hypothesis depends upon a variety of intricate meteorological conditions, some of which have been adversely interpreted by competent authorities.[902] What is still more serious, its acceptance seems precluded by time-relations of a simple kind. Dr. Wright[903] has established with some approach to certainty that glacial conditions ceased in Canada and the United States about ten or twelve thousand years ago. The erosive action of the Falls of Niagara qualifies them to serve as a clepsydra, or water-clock on a grand scale; and their chronological indications have been amply corroborated elsewhere and otherwise on the same continent. The astronomical Ice Age, however, should have been enormously more antique. No reconciliation of the facts with the theory appears possible.

The first attempt at an experimental estimate of the "mean density" of the earth was Maskelyne's observation in 1774 of the deflection of a plumb-line through the attraction of Schehallien. The conclusion thence derived, that our globe weighs 4-1/2 times as much as an equal bulk of water,[904] was not very exact. It was considerably improved upon by Cavendish, who, in 1798, brought into use the "torsion-balance" constructed for the same purpose by John Michell. The resulting estimate of 5·48 was raised to 5·66 by Francis Baily's elaborate repetition of the process in 1838-42. From experiments on the subject made in 1872-73 by Cornu and Baille the slightly inferior value of 5·56 was derived; and it was further shown that the data collected by Baily, when corrected for a systematic error, gave practically the same result (5·55).[905] M. Wilsing's of 5·58, obtained at Potsdam in 1889,[906] nearly agreed with it; while Professor Poynting, by means of a common balance, arrived at a terrestrial mean density of 5·49.[907] Professor Boys next entered the field with an exquisite apparatus, in which a quartz fibre performed the functions of a torsion-rod; and the figure 5·53 determined by him, and exactly confirmed by Dr. Braun's research at Mariaschein, Bohemia, in 1896,[908] may be called the standard value of the required datum. Newton's guess at the average weight of the earth as five or six times that of water has thus been curiously verified.

Operations for determining the figure of the earth were carried out during the last century on an unprecedented scale. The Russo-Scandinavian arc, of which the measurement was completed under the direction of the elder Struve in 1855, reached from Hammerfest to Ismailia on the Danube, a length of 25° 20'. But little inferior to it was the Indian arc, begun by Lambton in the first years of the century, continued by Everest, revised and extended by Walker. Both were surpassed in compass by the Anglo-French arc, which embraced 28°; and considerable segments of meridians near the Atlantic and Pacific shores of North America were measured under the auspices of the United States Coast Survey. But these operations shrink into insignificance by comparison with Sir David Gill's grandiose scheme for uniting two hemispheres by a continuous network of triangulation. The history of geodesy in South Africa began with Lacaille's measurements in 1752. They were repeated and enlarged in scope by Sir Thomas Maclear in 1841-48; and his determinations prepared the way for a complete survey of Cape Colony and Natal, executed during the ten years 1883-92 by Colonel Morris, R.E., under the direction of Sir David Gill.[909] Bechuanaland and Rhodesia were subsequently included in the work; and the Royal Astronomer obtained, in 1900, the support of the International Geodetic Association for its extension to the mouth of the Nile. Nor was this the limit of his design. By carrying the survey along the Levantine coast, connection can be established with Struve's system, and the magnificent amplitude of 105° will be given to the conjoined African and European arcs. Meantime, the French have undertaken the remeasurement of Bouguer's Peruvian arc, and a corresponding Russo-Swedish[910] enterprise is progressing in Spitzbergen; so that abundant materials will ere long be provided for fresh investigations of the shape and size of our planet. The smallness of the outstanding uncertainty can be judged of by comparing J. B. Listing's[911] with General Clarke's[912] results, published in the same year (1878). Listing stated the dimensions of the terrestrial spheroid as follows: Equatorial radius = 3,960 miles; polar radius = 3,947 miles; ellipticity = 1/288·5. Clarke's corresponding figures were: 3,963 and 3,950 miles, giving an ellipticity of 1/293·5. The value of the latter fraction at present generally adopted is 1/292; that is to say, the thickness of the protuberant equatorial ring is held to be 1/292 of the equatorial radius. From astronomical considerations, it is true, Newcomb estimated the ratio at 1/308;[913] but for obtaining this particular datum, geodetical methods are unquestionably to be preferred.

The moon possesses for us a unique interest. She in all probability shared the origin of the earth; she perhaps prefigures its decay. She is at present its minister and companion. Her existence, so far as we can see, serves no other purpose than to illuminate the darkness of terrestrial nights, and to measure, by swiftly-recurring and conspicuous changes of aspect, the long span of terrestrial time. Inquiries stimulated by visible dependence, and aided by relatively close vicinity, have resulted in a wonderfully minute acquaintance with the features of the single lunar hemisphere open to our inspection.

Selenography, in the modern sense, is little more than a hundred years old. It originated with the publication in 1791 of SchrÖter's Selenotopographische Fragmente.[914] Not but that the lunar surface had already been diligently studied, chiefly by Hevelius, Cassini, Riccioli, and Tobias Mayer; the idea, however, of investigating the moon's physical condition, and detecting symptoms of the activity there of natural forces through minute topographical inquiry, first obtained effect at Lilienthal. SchrÖter's delineations, accordingly, imperfect though they were, afforded a starting-point for a comparative study of the superficial features of our satellite.

The first of the curious objects which he named "rills" was noted by him in 1787. Before 1801 he had found eleven; Lohrmann added 75; MÄdler 55; Schmidt published in 1866 a catalogue of 425, of which 278 had been detected by himself;[915] and he eventually brought the number up to nearly 1,000. They are, then, a very persistent lunar feature, though wholly without terrestrial analogue. There is no difference of opinion as to their nature. They are quite obviously clefts in a rocky surface, 100 to 500 yards deep, usually a couple of miles across, and pursuing straight, curved, or branching tracks up to 150 miles in length. As regards their origin, the most probable view is that they are fissures produced in cooling; but Neison inclines to consider them rather as dried watercourses.[916]

On February 24, 1792, SchrÖter perceived what he took to be distinct traces of a lunar twilight, and continued to observe them during nine consecutive years.[917] They indicated, he thought, the presence of a shallow atmosphere, about 29 times more tenuous than our own. Bessel, on the other hand, considered that the only way of "saving" a lunar atmosphere was to deny it any refractive power, the sharpness and suddenness of star-occultations negativing the possibility of gaseous surroundings of greater density (admitting an extreme supposition) than 1/500 that of terrestrial air.[918] Newcomb places the maximum at 1/400. Sir John Herschel concluded "the non-existence of any atmosphere at the moon's edge having 1/1980 part of the density of the earth's atmosphere."[919]

This decision was fully borne out by Sir William Huggins's spectroscopic observation of the disappearance behind the moon's limb of the small star e Piscium, January 4, 1865.[920] Not the slightest sign of selective absorption or unequal refraction was discernible. The entire spectrum went out at once, as if a slide had suddenly dropped over it. The spectroscope has uniformly told the same tale; for M. Thollon's observation during the total solar eclipse at Sohag of a supposed thickening at the moon's rim, of certain dark lines in the solar spectrum, is now acknowledged to have been illusory. Moonlight, analysed with the prism, is found to be pure reflected sunlight, diminished in quantity, owing to the low reflective capability of the lunar surface, to less than one-fifth its incident intensity, but wholly unmodified in quality.

Nevertheless, the diameter of the moon appeared from the Greenwich observations discussed by Airy in 1865[921] to be 4' smaller than when directly measured; and the effect would be explicable by refraction in a lunar atmosphere 2,000 times thinner than our own at the sea-level. But the difference was probably illusory. It resulted in part, if not wholly, from the visual enlargement by irradiation of the bright disc of the moon. Professor Comstock, employing the 16-inch Clark equatoreal of the Washburn Observatory, found in 1897 the refractive displacements of occulted stars so trifling as to preclude the existence of a permanent lunar atmosphere of much more than 1/5000 the density of the terrestrial envelope.[922] The possibility, however, was admitted that, on the illuminated side of the moon, temporary exhalations of aqueous vapour might arise from ice-strata evaporated by sun-heat. Meantime, some renewed evidence of actual crepuscular gleams on the moon had been gathered by MM. Paul and Prosper Henry of the Paris Observatory, as well as by Mr. W. H. Pickering, in the pure air of Arequipa, at an altitude of 8,000 feet above the sea.[923] An occultation of Jupiter, too, observed by him August 12, 1892,[924] was attended with a slight flattening of the planet's disc through the effect, it was supposed, of lunar refraction—but of refraction in an atmosphere possessing, at the most, 1/4000 the density at the sea-level of terrestrial air, and capable of holding in equilibrium no more than 1/250 of an inch of mercury. Yet this small barometric value corresponds, Mr. Pickering remarks, "to a pressure of hundreds of tons per square mile of the lunar surface." The compression downward of gaseous strata on the moon should, in any case, proceed very gradually, owing to the slight power of lunar gravity,[925] and they might hence play an important part in the economy of our satellite while evading spectroscopic and other tests. Thus—as Mr. Ranyard remarked[926]—the cliffs and pinnacles of the moon bear witness, by their unworn condition, to the efficiency of atmospheric protection against meteoric bombardment; and Mr. Pickering shows that it could be afforded by such a tenuous envelope as that postulated by him.

The first to emulate SchrÖter's selenographical zeal was Wilhelm Gotthelf Lohrmann, a land-surveyor of Dresden, who, in 1824, published four out of twenty-five sections of the first scientifically executed lunar chart, on a scale of 37-1/2 inches to a lunar diameter. His sight, however, began to fail three years later, and he died in 1840, leaving materials from which the work was completed and published in 1878 by Dr. Julius Schmidt, late director of the Athens Observatory. Much had been done in the interim. Beer and MÄdler began at Berlin in 1830 their great trigonometrical survey of the lunar surface, as yet neither revised nor superseded. A map, issued in four parts, 1834-36, on nearly the same scale as Lohrmann's, but more detailed and authoritative, embodied the results. It was succeeded, in 1837, by a descriptive volume bearing the imposing title, Der Mond; oder allgemeine vergleichende Selenographie. This summation of knowledge in that branch, though in truth leaving many questions open, had an air of finality which tended to discourage further inquiry.[927] It gave form to a reaction against the sanguine views entertained by Hevelius, SchrÖter, Herschel and Gruithuisen as to the possibilities of agreeable residence on the moon, and relegated the "Selenites," one of whose cities SchrÖter thought he had discovered, and of whose festal processions Gruithuisen had not despaired of becoming a spectator, to the shadowy land of the Ivory Gate. All examples of change in lunar formations were, moreover, dismissed as illusory. The light contained in the work was, in short, a "dry light," not stimulating to the imagination. "A mixture of a lie," Bacon shrewdly remarks, "doth ever add pleasure." For many years, accordingly, Schmidt had the field of selenography almost to himself.

Reviving interest in the subject was at once excited and displayed by the appointment, in 1864, of a Lunar Committee of the British Association. The indirect were of greater value than the direct fruits of its labours. An English school of selenography rose into importance. Popularity was gained for the subject by the diffusion of works conspicuous for ingenuity and research. Nasmyth's and Carpenter's beautifully illustrated volume (1874) was succeeded, after two years, by a still more weighty contribution to lunar science in Mr. Neison's well-known book, accompanied by a map, based on the survey of Beer and MÄdler, but adding some 500 measures of positions, besides the representation of several thousand new objects. With Schmidt's Charte der Gebirge der Mondes, Germany once more took the lead. This splendid delineation, built upon Lohrmann's foundation, embraced the detail contained in upwards of 3,000 original drawings, representing the labour of thirty-four years. No less than 32,856 craters are represented in it, on a scale of seventy-five inches to a diameter. An additional help to lunar inquiries was provided at the same time in this country by the establishment, through the initiative of the late Mr. W. R. Birt, of the Selenographical Society.

But the strongest incentive to diligence in studying the rugged features of our celestial helpmate has been the idea of probable or actual variation in them. A change always seems to the inquisitive intellect of man like a breach in the defences of Nature's secrets, through which it may hope to make its way to the citadel. What is desirable easily becomes credible; and thus statements and rumours of lunar convulsions have successively, during the last hundred years, obtained credence, and successively, on closer investigation, been rejected. The subject is one as to which illusion is peculiarly easy. Our view of the moon's surface is a bird's-eye view. Its conformation reveals itself indirectly through irregularities in the distribution of light and darkness. The forms of its elevations and depressions can be inferred only from the shapes of the black, unmitigated shadows cast by them. But these shapes are in a state of perpetual and bewildering fluctuation, partly through changes in the angle of illumination, partly through changes in our point of view, caused by what are called the moon's "librations."[928] The result is, that no single observation can be exactly repeated by the same observer, since identical conditions recur only after the lapse of a great number of years.

Local peculiarities of surface, besides, are liable to produce perplexing effects. The reflection of earth-light at a particular angle from certain bright summits completely, though temporarily, deceived Herschel into the belief that he had witnessed, in 1783 and 1787, volcanic outbursts on the dark side of the moon. The persistent recurrence, indeed, of similar appearances under circumstances less amenable to explanation inclined Webb to the view that effusions of native light actually occur.[929] More cogent proofs must, however, be adduced before a fact so intrinsically improbable can be admitted as true.

But from the publication of Beer and MÄdler's work until 1866, the received opinion was that no genuine sign of activity had ever been seen, or was likely to be seen, on our satellite; that her face was a stereotyped page, a fixed and irrevisable record of the past. A profound sensation, accordingly, was produced by Schmidt's announcement, in October, 1866, that the crater "LinnÉ," in the Mare Serenitatis, had disappeared,[930] effaced, as it was supposed, by an igneous outflow. The case seemed undeniable, and is still dubious. LinnÉ had been known to Lohrmann and MÄdler, 1822-32, as a deep crater, five or six miles in diameter, the third largest in the dusky plain known as the "Mare Serenitatis"; and Schmidt had observed and drawn it, 1840-43, under a practically identical aspect. Now it appears under high light as a whitish spot, in the centre of which, as the rays begin to fall obliquely, a pit, scarcely two miles across, emerges into view.[931] The crateral character of this comparatively minute depression was detected by Father Secchi, February 11, 1867.

This is not all. SchrÖter's description of LinnÉ, as seen by him November 5, 1788, tallies quite closely with modern observation;[932] while its inconspicuousness in 1797 is shown by its omission from Russell's lunar globe and maps.[933] We are thus driven to adopt one of two suppositions: either Lohrmann, MÄdler, and Schmidt were entirely mistaken in the size and importance of LinnÉ, or a real change in its outward semblance supervened during the first half of the century, and has since passed away, perhaps again to recur. The latter hypothesis seems the more probable: and its probability is strengthened by much evidence of actual obscuration or variation of tint in other parts of the lunar surface, more especially on the floor of the great "walled plain" named "Plato."[934] From a re-examination with a 13-inch refractor at Arequipa in 1891-92, of this region, and of the Mare Serenitatis, Mr. W. H. Pickering inclines to the belief that lunar volcanic action, once apparently so potent, is not yet wholly extinct.[935]

An instance of an opposite kind of change was alleged by Dr. Hermann J. Klein of Cologne in March, 1878.[936] In LinnÉ the obliteration of an old crater had been assumed; in "Hyginus N.," the formation of a new crater was asserted. Yet, quite possibly, the same cause may have produced the effects thought to be apparent in both. It is, however, far from certain that any real change has affected the neighbourhood of Hyginus. The novelty of Klein's observation of May 19, 1877, may have consisted simply in the detection of a hitherto unrecognised feature. The region is one of complex formation, consequently of more than ordinary liability to deceptive variations in aspect under rapid and entangled fluctuations of light and shade.[937] Moreover, it seems to be certain, from Messrs. Pratt and Capron's attentive study, that "Hyginus N." is no true crater, but a shallow, saucer-like depression, difficult of clear discernment.[938] Under suitable illumination, nevertheless, it contains, and is marked by, an ample shadow.[939]

In both these controverted instances of change, lunar photography was invoked as a witness; but, notwithstanding the great advances made in the art by De la Rue in this country, by Draper, and, above all, by Rutherford in America, without decisive results. Investigations of the kind began to assume a new aspect in 1890, when Professor Holden organised them at the Lick Observatory.[940] Autographic moon-pictures were no longer taken casually, but on system; and Dr. Weinek's elaborate study, and skilful reproductions of them at Prague,[941] gave them universal value. They were designed to provide materials for an atlas on the scale of Beer and MÄdler's, of which some beautiful specimen-plates have been issued. At Paris, in 1894, with the aid of a large "equatoreal coudÉ," a work of similar character was set on foot by MM. Loewy and Puiseux. Its progress has been marked by the successive publication of five instalments of a splendid atlas, on a scale of about eight feet to the lunar diameter, accompanied by theoretical dissertations, designed to establish a science of "selenology." The moon's formations are thus not only delineated under every variety of light-incidence, but their meaning is sought to be elicited, and their history and mutual relations interpreted.[942] Henceforth, at any rate, the lunar volcanoes can scarcely, without notice taken, breathe hard in their age-long sleep.

Melloni was the first to get undeniable heating effects from moonlight. His experiments, made on Mount Vesuvius early in 1846,[943] were repeated with like result by Zantedeschi at Venice four years later. A rough measure of the intensity of those effects was arrived at by Piazzi Smyth at Guajara, on the Peak of Teneriffe, in 1856. At a distance of fifteen feet from the thermomultiplier, a Price's candle was found to radiate just twice as much heat as the full moon.[944] Then, after thirteen years, in 1869-72, an exact and extensive series of observations on the subject were made by the present Earl of Rosse. The lunar radiations, from the first to the last quarter, displayed, when concentrated with the Parsonstown three-foot mirror, appreciable thermal energy, increasing with the phase, and largely due to "dark heat," distinguished from the quicker-vibrating sort by inability to traverse a plate of glass. This was supposed to indicate an actual heating of the surface, during the long lunar day of 300 hours, to about 500° F.[945] (corrected later to 197°),[946] the moon thus acting as a direct radiator no less than as a reflector of heat. But the conclusion was very imperfectly borne out by Dr. Boeddicker's observations with the same instrument and apparatus during the total lunar eclipse of October 4, 1884.[947] This initial opportunity of measuring the heat phases of an eclipsed moon was used with the remarkable result of showing that the heat disappeared almost completely, though not quite simultaneously, with the light. Confirmatory evidence of the extraordinary promptitude with which our satellite parts with heat already to some extent appropriated, was afforded by Professor Langley's bolometric observations at Allegheny of the partial eclipse of September 23, 1885.[948] Yet it is certain that the moon sends us a perceptible quantity of heat on its own account, besides simply throwing back solar radiations. For in February, 1885, Professor Langley succeeded, after many fruitless attempts, in getting measures of a "lunar heat-spectrum." The incredible delicacy of the operation may be judged of from the statement that the sum-total of the thermal energy dispersed by his rock-salt prisms was insufficient to raise a thermometer fully exposed to it one-thousandth of a degree Centigrade! The singular fact was, however, elicited that this almost evanescent spectrum is made up of two superposed spectra, one due to reflection, the other, with a maximum far down in the infra-red, to radiation.[949] The corresponding temperature of the moon's sunlit surface Professor Langley considers to be about that of freezing water.[950] Repeated experiments having failed to get any thermal effects from the dark part of the moon, it was inferred that our satellite "has no internal heat sensible at the surface"; so that the radiations from the lunar soil giving the low maximum in the heat-spectrum, "must be due purely to solar heat which has been absorbed and almost immediately re-radiated." Professor Langley's explorations of the terra incognita of immensely long wave-lengths where lie the unseen heat-emissions from the earth into space, led him to the discovery that these, contrary to the received opinion, are in good part transmissible by our atmosphere, although they are completely intercepted by glass. Another important result of the Allegheny work was the abolition of the anomalous notion of the "temperature of space," fixed by Pouillet at -140° C. For space in itself can have no temperature, and stellar radiation is a negligible quantity. Thus, it is safe to assume "that a perfect thermometer suspended in space at the distance of the earth or moon from the sun, but shielded from its rays, would sensibly indicate the absolute zero,"[951] ordinarily placed at -273° C.

A "Prize Essay on the Distribution of the Moon's Heat" (The Hague), 1891, by Mr. Frank W. Very, who had taken an active part in Professor Langley's long-sustained inquiry, embodies the fruits of its continuation. They show the lunar disc to be tolerably uniform in thermal power. The brighter parts are also indeed hotter, but not much. The traces perceived of a slight retention of heat by the substances forming the lunar surface, agreed well with the Parsonstown observations of the total eclipse of the moon, January 28, 1888.[952] For they brought out an unmistakable divergence between the heat and light phases. A curious decrease of heat previous to the first touch of the earth's shadow upon the lunar globe remains unexplained, unless it be admissible to suppose the terrestrial atmosphere capable of absorbing heat at an elevation of 190 miles. The probable range of temperature on the moon was discussed by Professor Very in 1898.[953] He concluded it to be very wide. Hotter than boiling water under the sun's vertical rays, the arid surface of our dependent globe must, he found, cool in the 14-day lunar night to about the temperature of liquid air.

Although that fundamental part of astronomy known as "celestial mechanics" lies outside the scope of this work, and we therefore pass over in silence the immense labours of Plana, Damoiseau, Hansen, Delaunay, G. W. Hill, and Airy in reconciling the observed and calculated motions of the moon, there is one slight but significant discrepancy which is of such importance to the physical history of the solar system, that some brief mention must be made of it.

Halley discovered in 1693, by examining the records of ancient eclipses, that the moon was going faster then than 2,000 years previously—so much faster, as to have got ahead of the place in the sky she would otherwise have occupied, by about two of her own diameters. It was one of Laplace's highest triumphs to have found an explanation of this puzzling fact. He showed, in 1787, that it was due to a very slow change in the ovalness of the earth's orbit, tending, during the present age of the world, to render it more nearly circular. The pull of the sun upon the moon is thereby lessened; the counter-pull of the earth gets the upper hand; and our satellite, drawn nearer to us by something less than an inch each year,[954] proportionately quickens her pace. Many thousands of years hence the process will be reversed; the terrestrial orbit will close in at the sides, the lunar orbit will open out under the growing stress of solar gravity, and our celestial chronometer will lose instead of gaining time.

This is all quite true as Laplace put it; but it is not enough. Adams, the virtual discoverer of Neptune, found with surprise in 1853 that the received account of the matter was "essentially incomplete," and explained, when the requisite correction was introduced, only half the observed acceleration.[955] What was to be done with the remaining half? Here Delaunay, the eminent French mathematical astronomer, unhappily drowned at Cherbourg in 1872 by the capsizing of a pleasure-boat, came to the rescue.[956]

It is obvious to anyone who considers the subject a little attentively, that the tides must act to some extent as a friction-brake upon the rotating earth. In other words, they must bring about an almost infinitely slow lengthening of the day. For the two masses of water piled up by lunar influence on the hither and farther sides of our globe, strive, as it were, to detach themselves from the unity of the terrestrial spheroid, and to follow the movements of the moon. The moon, accordingly, holds them against the whirling earth, which revolves like a shaft in a fixed collar, slowly losing motion and gaining heat, eventually dissipated through space.[957] This must go on (so far as we can see) until the periods of the earth's rotation and of the moon's revolution coincide. Nay, the process will be continued—should our oceans survive so long—by the feebler tide-raising power of the sun, ceasing only when day and night cease to alternate, when one side of our planet is plunged in perpetual darkness and the other seared by unchanging light.

Here, then, we have the secret of the moon's turning always the same face towards the earth. It is that in primeval times, when the moon was liquid or plastic, an earth-raised tidal wave rapidly and forcibly reduced her rotation to its present exact agreement with her period of revolution. This was divined by Kant[958] nearly a century before the necessity for such a mode of action presented itself to any other thinker. In a weekly paper published at KÖnigsberg in 1754, the modern doctrine of "tidal friction" was clearly outlined by him, both as regards its effects actually in progress on the rotation of the earth, and as regards its effects already consummated on the rotation of the moon—the whole forming a preliminary attempt at what he called a "natural history" of the heavens. His sagacious suggestion, however, remained entirely unnoticed until revived—it would seem independently—by Julius Robert Mayer in 1848;[959] while similar, and probably original, conclusions were reached by William Ferrel of Allensville, Kentucky, in 1858.[960]

Delaunay was not then the inventor or discoverer of tidal friction; he merely displayed it as an effective cause of change. He showed reason for believing that its action in checking the earth's rotation, far from being, as Ferrel had supposed, completely neutralised by the contraction of the globe through cooling, was a fact to be reckoned with in computing the movements, as well as in speculating on the history, of the heavenly bodies. The outstanding acceleration of the moon was thus at once explained. It was explained as apparent only—the reflection of a real lengthening, by one second in 100,000 years, of the day. But on this point the last word has not yet been spoken.

Professor Newcomb undertook in 1870 the onerous task of investigating the errors of Hansen's Lunar Tables as compared with observations prior to 1750. The results, published in 1878,[961] proved somewhat perplexing. They tend, in general, to reduce the amount of acceleration left unaccounted for by Laplace's gravitational theory, and proportionately to diminish the importance of the part played by tidal friction. But, in order to bring about this diminution, and at the same time conciliate Alexandrian and Arabian observations, it is necessary to reject as total the ancient solar eclipses known as those of Thales and Larissa. This may be a necessary, but it must be admitted to be a hazardous expedient. Its upshot was to indicate a possibility that the observed and calculated values of the moon's acceleration might after all prove to be identical; and the small outstanding discrepancy was still further diminished by Tisserand's investigation, differently conducted, of the same Arabian eclipses discussed by Newcomb.[962] The necessity of having recourse to a lengthening day is then less pressing than it seemed some time ago; and the effect, if perceptible in the moon's motion, should, M. Tisserand remarked, be proportionately so in the motions of all the other heavenly bodies. The presence of the apparent general acceleration that should ensue can be tested with most promise of success, according to the same authority, by delicate comparisons of past and future transits of Mercury.

Newcomb further showed that small residual irregularities are still found in the movements of our satellite, inexplicable either by any known gravitational influence, or by any uniform value that could be assigned to secular acceleration.[963] If set down to the account of imperfections in the "time-keeping" of the earth, it could only be on the arbitrary supposition of fluctuations in its rate of going themselves needing explanation. This, it is true, might be found in very slight changes of figure,[964] not altogether unlikely to occur. But into this cloudy and speculative region astronomers for the present decline to penetrate. They prefer, if possible, to deal only with calculable causes, and thus to preserve for their "most perfect of sciences" its special prerogative of assured prediction.