What must the sun appear to Mercury, who is so much nearer to him than we are? To understand that we should have to imagine our sun increased to eight or nine times his apparent size, and pouring out far greater heat and light than anything that we have here, even in the tropics. It was at first supposed that Mercury must have an extra thick covering of clouds to protect him from this tremendous glare; but recent observations tend to prove that, far from this, he is singularly free from cloud. As this is so, no life as we know it could possibly exist on Mercury.

His year—the time he takes to go round the sun and come back to the same place again—is eighty-eight days, or about one-quarter of ours. As his orbit is much more like an ellipse than a circle, it follows that he is much nearer to the sun at one time than at another—in fact, when he is nearest, the size of the sun must seem three and a half times greater than when he is furthest away from it! Even at the best Mercury is very difficult to observe, and what we can learn about him is not much; but, as we have heard, his axis is supposed to be upright. If so his seasons cannot depend on the bend toward or away from the sun, but must be influenced solely by the changes in his distance from the sun, which are much greater than in our own ease. There is some reason to believe, too, that Mercury's day and year are the same length. This means that as the planet circles round the sun he turns once. If this is so the sun will shine on one half of the planet, producing an accumulated heat terrific to think of; while the other side is plunged in blackness. The side which faces the sun must be heated to a pitch inconceivable to us during the nearer half of the orbit—a pitch at which every substance must be at boiling-point, and which no life as we know it could possibly endure. Seen from our point of view, Mercury goes through all the phases of the moon, as he shines by the reflected light of the sun; but this point we shall consider more particularly in regard to Venus, as Venus is nearer to us and easier to study. For a long time astronomers had a fancy that there might be another planet even nearer to the sun than Mercury, perhaps hidden from us by the great glare of the sun. They even named this imaginary planet Vulcan, and some thought they had seen it, but it is tolerably certain that Vulcan existed only in imagination. Mercury is the nearest planet to the sun, and also the smallest, of course excepting the asteroids. It is about three thousand miles in diameter, and as our moon is two thousand miles, it is not so much bigger than that. So far as we are concerned, it is improbable we shall ever know very much more about this little planet.

But next we come to Venus, our beautiful bright neighbour, who approaches nearer to us than any other heavenly body except the moon. Alas! when she is nearest, she like Mercury, turns her dark side toward us, coming in between us and the sun, so that we cannot observe her at all.

Everyone must have noticed Venus, however carelessly they have looked at the sky; but it is likely that far more people have seen her as an evening than a morning star, for most people are in bed when the sun rises, and it is only before sunrise or after sunset we can see Venus well. She is at her best from our point of view when she seems to us to be furthest from the sun, for then we can study her best, and at these times she appears like a half or three-quarter moon, as we only see a part of the side from which the sunlight is reflected. She shines like a little silver lamp, excelling every other planet, even Jupiter, the largest of all. If we look at her even with the naked eye, we can see that she is elongated or drawn out, but her brilliance prevents us from seeing her shape exactly; to do this we must use a telescope.

It is a curious fact that some planets shine much more brightly than others, without regard to their size—that is to say, the surface on which the sun's rays strike is of greater reflecting power in some than in others. One of the brightest things in Nature that we can imagine is a bank of snow in sunlight; it is so dazzling that we have to look away or wink hard at the sight; and the reflective power of the surface of Venus is as dazzling as if she were made of snow. This is probably because the light strikes on the upper surface of the clouds which surround her. In great contrast to this is the surface of Mercury, which reflects as dully as a mass of lead. Our own moon has not a high reflecting power, as will be easily understood if we imagine what the world would be if condemned to perpetual moonlight only. It would, indeed, be a sad deprivation if the mournful cold light of the moon, welcome enough as a change from sunlight, were to take the place of sunlight in the daytime.

For a very long time astronomers could not discover what time Venus took in rotating on her own axis—that is to say, what the length of her day was. She is difficult to observe, and in order to find out the rotation it is necessary to note some fixed object on the surface which turns round with the planet and comes back to the same place again, so that the time it takes in its journey can be measured. But the surface of Venus is always changing, so that it is impossible to judge at all certainly. Opinions differ greatly, some astronomers holding that Venus's day is not much longer than an earthly day, while others believe that the planet's day is equal to her year, just as in the case of Mercury. Venus's year is 225 days, or about seven and a half of our months, and if, indeed, her day and year are the same length, very peculiar effects would follow. For instance, terrible heat would be absorbed by the side of the planet facing the sun in the perpetual summer; and the cold which would be felt in the dreary winter's night would far exceed our bitterest Arctic climate. We cannot but fancy that any beings who might live on a planet of this kind must be different altogether from ourselves. Then, there is another point: even here on earth very strong winds are caused by the heating of the tropics; the hot air, being lighter than the cold air, rises, and the colder air from the poles rushes in to supply its place. This causes wind, but the winds which would be raised on Venus by the rush of air from the icy side of the planet to the hot one would be tornadoes such as we could but faintly dream of. It is, of course, useless to speculate when we know so little, but in a subject so intensely interesting we cannot help guessing a little.

Venus is only slightly smaller than the earth, and her density is not very unlike ours; therefore the pull of gravity must be pretty much there what it is here—that is to say, things will weigh at her surface about the same as they do here. Her orbit is nearly a circle, so that her distance from the sun does not vary much, and the heat will not be much greater from this cause at one time of the year than another.

As her orbit is tilted up a little she does not pass between us and the sun at each revolution, but occasionally she does so, and this passing is called a transit. Many important facts have been learned by watching these transits. Mercury also has transits across the sun, but as she is so much smaller than Venus they are not of such great importance. It was by the close observation of Venus during her transits that the distance from the earth to the sun was first measured. Not until the year 2004 will another transit of Venus occur.

It is not difficult to imagine that the earth must appear a splendid spectacle from Venus, whence she is seen to great advantage. When nearest to us she must see us like a little moon, with markings as the continents and seas rotate, and these will change as they are obscured by the clouds rolling over them. At the North and South Poles will be glittering ice-caps, growing larger and smaller as they turn toward or away from the sun. A brilliant spectacle!

We might say with a sigh, 'If only we could see such a world!' Well, we can see a world—not indeed, so large as Venus, yet a world that comes almost as near to us as Venus does, and which, unlike her, is outside us in order from the sun, so that when it is nearest to us the full sunlight is on it. This is Mars, our neighbour on the other side, and of all the fascinating objects in the sky Mars is the most fascinating, for there, if anywhere, should we be likely to discover beings like ourselves!

Mars takes rather more than half an hour longer to rotate than we do, and as he is so much smaller than the earth, this means that he moves round more slowly. His axis is bent at nearly the same angle as ours is. Mars is much smaller than the earth, his diameter is about twice that of the moon, and his density is about three-quarters that of the earth, so that altogether, with his smaller size and less density, anything weighing a hundred pounds here would only weigh some forty pounds on Mars; and if, by some miraculous agency, you were suddenly transported there, you would find yourself so light that you could jump enormous distances with little effort, and skip and hop as if you were on springs.

Look at the map of Mars, in which the surface appears to be cut up into land and water, continents and oceans. The men who first observed Mars with accuracy saw that some parts were of a reddish colour and others greenish, and arguing from our own world, they called the greenish parts seas and the reddish land. For a long while no one doubted that we actually looked on a world like our own, more especially as there was supposed to be a covering of atmosphere. The so-called land and water are much more cut up and mixed together than ours, it is true. Here and there is a large sea, like that marked 'Mare Australe,' but otherwise the water and the land are strangely intermingled. The red colour of the part they named land puzzled astronomers a good deal, for our land seen at the same distance would not appear so red, and they came at last to the conclusion that vegetation on Mars must be red instead of green! But after a while another disturbing fact turned up to upset their theories, and that was that they saw canals, or what they called canals, on Mars. These were long, straight, dark markings, such as you see on the map. It is true that some people never saw these markings at all, and disbelieved in their existence; but others saw them clearly, and watched them change—first go fainter and then darker again. And quite recently a photograph has been obtained which shows them plainly, so they must have an existence, and cannot be only in the eye of the observer, as the most sceptical people were wont to suggest. But further than this, one astronomer announced that some of these lines appeared to be double, yet when he looked at them again they had grown single. It was like a conjuring trick. Great excitement was aroused by this, for if the canals were altered so greatly it really did look as if there were intelligent beings on Mars capable of working at them. In any case, if these are really canals, to make them would be a stupendous feat, and if they are artificial—that is, made by beings and not natural—they show a very high power of engineering. Imagine anyone on earth making a canal many miles wide and two thousand miles long! It is inconceivable, but that is the feat attributed to the Martians. The supposed doubling of the canals, as I say, caused a great deal of talk, and very few people could see that they were double at all. Even now the fact is doubted, yet there seems every reason to believe it is true. They do not all appear to be double, and those that do are always the same ones, while others undoubtedly remain single all the time. But the canals do not exhaust the wonders of Mars. At each pole there is an ice-cap resembling those found at our own poles, and this tells us pretty plainly something about the climate of Mars, and that there is water there.

This ice-cap melts when the pole which it surrounds is directed toward the sun, and sometimes in a hot summer it dwindles down almost to nothing, in a way that the ice-caps at the poles of the earth never do. A curious appearance has been noticed when it is melting: a dark shadow seems to grow underneath the edge of it and extends gradually, and as it extends the canals near it appear much darker and clearer than they did before, and then the canals further south undergo the same change. This looks as if the melting of the snow filled up the canals with water, and was a means of watering the planet by a system totally different from anything we know here, where our poles are surrounded by oceans, and the ice-caps do not in the least affect our water-supply. But, then, another strange fact had to be taken into consideration. These straight lines called canals ran out over the seas occasionally, and it was impossible to believe that if they were canals they could do that. Other things began to be discussed, such as the fact that the green parts of Mars did not always remain green. In what is the springtime of Mars they are so, but afterwards they become yellow, and still later in the season parts near the pole turn brown. Thus the idea that the greenish parts are seas had to be quite given up, though it appeared so attractive. The idea now generally believed is that the greenish parts are vegetation—trees and bushes and so on, and that the red parts are deserts of reddish sand, which require irrigation—that is to say, watering—before anything can be grown on them. The apparent doubling of the canals may be due to the green vegetation springing up along the banks. This might form two broad lines, while the canal itself would not be seen, and when the vegetation dies down, we should see only the trench of the canal, which would possibly appear faint and single. Therefore the arrangements on Mars appear to be a rich and a barren season on each hemisphere, the growth being caused by the melting of the polar ice-cap, which sends floods down even beyond the Equator. If we could imagine the same thing on earth we should have to think of pieces of land lying drear and dry and dead in winter between straight canal-like ditches of vast size. A little water might remain in these ditches possibly, but not enough to water the surrounding land. Then, as summer progressed, we should hear, 'The floods are coming,' and each deep, huge canal would be filled up with a tide of water, penetrating further and further. The water drawn up into the air would fall in dew or rain. Vegetation would spring up, especially near the canal banks, and instead of dreary wastes rich growths would cover the land, gradually dying down again in the winter. So far Mars seems in some important respects very different from the earth. He is also less favourably placed than we are, for being so much further from the sun, he receives very much less heat and light. His years are 687 of our days, or one year and ten and a half months, and his atmosphere is not so dense as ours. With this greater distance from the sun and less air we might suppose the temperature would be very cold indeed, and that the surface would be frost-bound, not only at the poles, but far down towards the Equator. Instead of this being so, as we have seen, the polar caps melt more than those on the earth. We can only surmise there must be some compensation we do not know of that softens down the rigour of the seasons, and makes them milder than we should suppose possible.

Of course, the one absorbing question is, Are there people on Mars? To this it is at present impossible to reply. We can only say the planet seems in every way fitted to support life, even if it is a little different from our earth. It is most certainly a living world, not a dead one like the moon, and as our knowledge increases we may some day be able to answer the question which so thrills us.

Our opportunities for the observation of Mars vary very greatly, for as the earth's orbit lies inside that of Mars, we can best see him when we are between him and the sun. Of course, it must be remembered that the earth and the other planets are so infinitely small in regard to the space between them that there is no possibility of any one of them getting in such a position that it would throw a shadow on any other or eclipse it. The planets are like specks in space, and could not interfere with one another in this way. When Mars, therefore, is in a line with us and the sun we can see him best, but some of these times are better than others, for this reason—the earth's orbit is nearly a circle, and that of Mars more of an ellipse.

Look at the illustration and remember that Mars' year is not quite two of ours—that is to say, every time we swing round our orbit we catch him up in a different place, for he will have progressed less than half his orbit while we go right round ours.

Sometimes when we overtake him he may be at that part which is furthest away from us, or he may be at that part which is nearest to us, and if he is in the latter position we can see him best. Now at these, the most favourable times of all, he is still more than thirty-five millions of miles away—that is to say, one hundred and forty times as far as the moon, yet comparatively we can see him very well. He is coming nearer and nearer to us, and very soon will be nearer than he has been since 1892, or fifteen years ago. Then many telescopes will be directed on him, and much may be learned about him.

For a long time it was supposed that Mars had no moons, and when Dean Swift wrote 'Gulliver's Travels' he wanted to make the Laputans do something very clever, so he described their discovery of two moons attending Mars, and to make it quite absurd he said that when they observed these moons they found that one of them went round the planet in about ten hours. Now, as Mars takes more than twenty-four hours to rotate, this was considered ridiculous, for no moon known then took less time to go round its primary world than the primary world took to turn on its own axis. Our own moon, of course, takes thirty times as long—that is a month contains thirty days. Then one hundred and fifty years later this jest of Dean Swift's came true, for two moons were really discovered revolving round Mars, and one of them does actually take less time to complete its orbit than the planet does to rotate—namely, a little more than seven hours! So the absurdity in 'Gulliver's Travels' was a kind of prophecy!

These two moons are very small, the outer one perhaps five or six miles in diameter, and the inner one about seven; therefore from Mars the outer one, Deimos, cannot look much more than a brilliant star, and the inner one would be but a fifth part the apparent width of our own moon. So Mars is not very well off, after all. Still, there is great variety, for it must be odd to see the same moon appearing three times in the day, showing all the different phases as it goes from new to full, even though it is small!

Such wonderful discoveries have already been made that it is not too much to say that perhaps some day we may be able to establish some sort of communication with Mars, and if it be inhabited by any intelligent beings, we may be able to signal to them; but it is almost impossible that any contrivance could bridge the gulf of airless space that separates us, and it is not likely that holiday trips to Mars will ever become fashionable!