CHAPTER XIII.

SATURN.

The Position of Saturn in the System--Saturn one of the Three most

Interesting Objects in the Heavens--Compared with Jupiter--Saturn

to the Unaided Eye--Statistics relating to the Planet--Density of

Saturn--Lighter than Water--The Researches of Galileo--What he

found in Saturn--A Mysterious Object--The Discoveries made by

Huyghens half a Century later--How the Existence of the Ring was

Demonstrated--Invisibility of the Rings every Fifteen Years--The

Rotation of the Planet--The Celebrated Cypher--The

Explanation--Drawing of Saturn--The Dark Line--W. Herschel's

Researches--Is the Division in the Ring really a

Separation?--Possibility of Deciding the Question--The Ring in a

Critical Position--Are there other Divisions in the Ring?--The

Dusky Ring--Physical Nature of Saturn's Rings--Can they be

Solid?--Can they even be Slender Rings?--A Fluid?--True Nature of

the Rings--A Multitude of Small Satellites--Analogy of the Rings of

Saturn to the Group of Minor Planets--Problems Suggested by

Saturn--The Group of Satellites to Saturn--The Discoveries of

Additional Satellites--The Orbit of Saturn not the Frontier of our

System.

At a profound distance in space, which, on an average, is 886,000,000

miles, the planet Saturn performs its mighty revolution around the sun

in a period of twenty-nine and a half years. This gigantic orbit formed

the boundary to the planetary system, so far as it was known to the

ancients.

Although Saturn is not so great a body as Jupiter, yet it vastly exceeds

the earth in bulk and in mass, and is, indeed, much greater than any one

of the planets, Jupiter alone excepted. But while Saturn must yield the

palm to Jupiter so far as mere dimensions are concerned, yet it will be

generally admitted that even Jupiter, with all the retinue by which he

is attended, cannot compete in beauty with the marvellous system of

Saturn. To the present writer it has always seemed that Saturn is one of

the three most interesting celestial objects visible to observers in

northern latitudes. The other two will occupy our attention in future

chapters. They are the great nebula in Orion, and the star cluster in

Hercules.

So far as the globe of Saturn is concerned, we do not meet with any

features which give to the planet any exceptional interest. The globe is

less than that of Jupiter, and as the latter is also much nearer to us,

the apparent size of Saturn is in a twofold way much smaller than that

of Jupiter. It should also be noticed that, owing to the greater

distance of Saturn from the sun, its intrinsic brilliancy is less than

that of Jupiter. There are, no doubt, certain marks and bands often to

be seen on Saturn, but they are not nearly so striking nor so

characteristic as the ever-variable belts upon Jupiter. The telescopic

appearance of the globe of Saturn must also be ranked as greatly

inferior in interest to that of Mars. The delicacy of detail which we

can see on Mars when favourably placed has no parallel whatever in the

dim and distant Saturn. Nor has Saturn, regarded again merely as a

globe, anything like the interest of Venus. The great splendour of Venus

is altogether out of comparison with that of Saturn, while the brilliant

crescent of the evening star is infinitely more pleasing than any

telescopic view of the globe of Saturn. Yet even while we admit all this

to the fullest extent, it does not invalidate the claim of Saturn to be

one of the most supremely beautiful and interesting objects in the

heavens. This interest is not due to his globe; it is due to that

marvellous system of rings by which Saturn is surrounded--a system

wonderful from every point of view, and, so far as our knowledge goes,

without a parallel in the wide extent of the universe.

[Illustration: Fig. 64. Saturn. (July 2nd, 1894. 36-in. equatorial.)

(Prof. E.E. Barnard.)]

To the unaided eye Saturn usually appears like a star of the first

magnitude. Its light alone would hardly be sufficient to discriminate it

from many of the brighter fixed stars. Yet the ancients were acquainted

with Saturn, and they knew it as a planet. It was included with the

other four great planets--Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter--in the

group of wanderers, which were bound to no fixed points of the sky like

the stars. On account of the great distance of Saturn, its movements are

much slower than those of the other planets known to the ancients.

Twenty-nine years and a half are required for this distant object to

complete its circuit of the heavens; and, though this movement is slow

compared with the incessant changes of Venus, yet it is rapid enough to

attract the attention of any careful observer. In a single year Saturn

moves through a distance of about twelve degrees, a quantity

sufficiently large to be conspicuous to casual observation. Even in a

month, or sometimes in a week, the planet traverses an arc of the sky

which can be detected by anyone who will take the trouble to mark the

place of the planet with regard to the stars in its vicinity. Those who

are privileged to use accurate astronomical instruments can readily

detect the motion of Saturn in a few hours.

The average distance from the sun to Saturn is about 886 millions of

miles. The path of Saturn, as of every other planet, is really an

ellipse with the sun in one focus. In the case of Saturn the shape of

this ellipse is very appreciably different from a purely circular path.

Around this path Saturn moves with an average velocity of 5.96 miles per

second.

The mean diameter of the globe of Saturn is about 71,000 miles. Its

equatorial diameter is about 75,000 miles, and its polar diameter 67,000

miles--the ratio of these numbers being approximately that of 10 to 9.

It is thus obvious that Saturn departs from the truly spherical shape to

a very marked extent. The protuberance at its equator must, no doubt, be

attributed to the high velocity with which the planet is rotating. The

velocity of rotation of Saturn is more than double as fast as that of

the earth, though it is not quite so fast as that of Jupiter. Saturn

makes one complete rotation in about 10 hrs. 14 min. Mr. Stanley

Williams has, however, observed with great care a number of spots which

he has discovered, and he finds that some of these spots in about 27 deg.

north latitude indicate rotation in a period of 10 hrs. 14 mins. to 15

min., while equatorial spots require no more than 10 hrs. 12 min. to 13

min. There is, however, the peculiarity that spots in the same latitude,

but at different parts of the planet, rotate at rates which differ by a

minute or more, while the period found by various groups of spots seems

to change from year to year.

These facts prove that Saturn and the spots do not form a rigid system.

The lightness of this planet is such as to be wholly incompatible with

the supposition that its globe is constituted of solid materials at all

comparable with those of which the crust of our earth is composed. The

satellites, which surround Saturn and form a system only less

interesting than the renowned rings themselves, enable us to weigh the

planet in comparison with the sun, and hence to deduce its actual mass

relatively to the earth. The result is not a little remarkable. It

appears that the density of the earth is eight times as great as that of

Saturn. In fact, the density of the latter is less than that of water

itself, so that a mighty globe of water, equal in bulk to Saturn, would

actually weigh more. If we could conceive a vast ocean into which a

globe equal to Saturn in size and weight were cast, the great globe

would not sink like our earth or like any of the other planets; it would

float buoyantly at the surface with one-fourth of its bulk out of the

water.

We thus learn with high probability that what our telescopes show upon

Saturn is not a solid surface, but merely a vast envelope of clouds

surrounding a heated interior. It is impossible to resist the suggestion

that this planet, like Jupiter, has still retained its heat because its

mass is so large. We must, however, allude to a circumstance which

perhaps may seem somewhat inconsistent with the view here taken. We have

found that Jupiter and Saturn are, both of them, much less dense than

the earth. When we compare the two planets together, it appears that

Saturn is much less dense than Jupiter. In fact, every cubic mile of

Jupiter weighs nearly twice as much as each cubic mile of Saturn. This

would seem to point to the conclusion that Saturn is the more heated of

the two bodies. Yet, as Jupiter is the larger, it might more reasonably

have been expected to be hotter than the other planet. We do not attempt

to reconcile this discrepancy; in fact, in our ignorance as to the

material constitution of these bodies, it would be idle to discuss the

question.

Even if we allow for the lightness of Saturn, as compared bulk for bulk

with the earth, yet the volume of Saturn is so enormous that the planet

weighs more than ninety-five times as much as the earth. The adjoining

view represents the relative sizes of Saturn and the earth (Fig. 65).

[Illustration: Fig. 65.--Relative Sizes of Saturn and the Earth.]

As the unaided eye discloses none of those marvels by which Saturn is

surrounded, the interest which attaches to this planet may be said to

commence from the time when it began to be observed with the telescope.

The history must be briefly alluded to, for it was only by degrees that

the real nature of this complicated object was understood. When Galileo

completed his little refracting telescope, which, though it only

magnified thirty times, was yet an enormous addition to the powers of

unaided vision, he made with it his memorable review of the heavens. He

saw the spots on the sun and the mountains on the moon; he noticed the

crescent of Venus and the satellites of Jupiter. Stimulated and

encouraged by such brilliant discoveries, he naturally sought to examine

the other planets, and accordingly directed his telescope to Saturn.

Here, again, Galileo at once made a discovery. He saw that Saturn

presented a visible form like the other planets, but that it differed

from any other telescopic object, inasmuch as it appeared to him to be

composed of three bodies which always touched each other and always

maintained the same relative positions. These three bodies were in a

line--the central one was the largest, and the two others were east and

west of it. There was nothing he had hitherto seen in the heavens which

filled his mind with such astonishment, and which seemed so wholly

inexplicable.

In his endeavours to understand this mysterious object, Galileo

continued his observations during the year 1610, and, to his amazement,

he saw the two lesser bodies gradually become smaller and smaller,

until, in the course of the two following years, they had entirely

vanished, and the planet simply appeared with a round disc like Jupiter.

Here, again, was a new source of anxiety to Galileo. He had at that day

to contend against the advocates of the ancient system of astronomy, who

derided his discoveries and refused to accept his theories. He had

announced his observation of the composite nature of Saturn; he had now

to tell of the gradual decline and the ultimate extinction of these two

auxiliary globes, and he naturally feared that his opponents would seize

the opportunity of pronouncing that the whole of his observations were

illusory.[25] "What," he remarks, "is to be said concerning so strange a

metamorphosis? Are the two lesser stars consumed after the manner of the

solar spots? Have they vanished and suddenly fled? Has Saturn perhaps,

devoured his own children? Or were the appearances indeed illusion or

fraud, with which the glasses have so long deceived me, as well as many

others to whom I have shown them? Now, perhaps, is the time come to

revive the well-nigh withered hopes of those who, guided by more

profound contemplations, have discovered the fallacy of the new

observations, and demonstrated the utter impossibility of their

existence. I do not know what to say in a case so surprising, so

unlooked for, and so novel. The shortness of the time, the unexpected

nature of the event, the weakness of my understanding, and the fear of

being mistaken, have greatly confounded me."

But Galileo was not mistaken. The objects were really there when he

first began to observe, they really did decline, and they really

disappeared; but this disappearance was only for a time--they again came

into view. They were then subjected to ceaseless examination, until

gradually their nature became unfolded. With increased telescopic power

it was found that the two bodies which Galileo had described as globes

on either side of Saturn were not really spherical--they were rather two

luminous crescents with the concavity of each turned towards the central

globe. It was also perceived that these objects underwent a remarkable

series of periodic changes. At the beginning of such a series the planet

was found with a truly circular disc. The appendages first appeared as

two arms extending directly outwards on each side of the planet; then

these arms gradually opened into two crescents, resembling handles to

the globe, and attained their maximum width after about seven or eight

years; then they began to contract, until after the lapse of about the

same time they vanished again.

The true nature of these objects was at length discovered by Huyghens in

1655, nearly half a century after Galileo had first detected their

appearance. He perceived the shadow thrown by the ring upon the globe,

and his explanation of the phenomena was obtained in a very

philosophical manner. He noticed that the earth, the sun, and the moon

rotated upon their axes, and he therefore regarded it as a general law

that each one of the bodies in the system rotates about an axis. It is

true, observations had not yet been made which actually showed that

Saturn was also rotating; but it would be highly, nay, indeed,

infinitely, improbable that any planet should be devoid of such

movement. All the analogies of the system pointed to the conclusion that

the velocity of rotation would be considerable. One satellite of Saturn

was already known to revolve in a period of sixteen days, being little

more than half our month. Huyghens assumed--and it was a most reasonable

assumption--that Saturn in all probability rotated rapidly on its axis.

It was also to be observed that if these remarkable appendages were

attached by an actual bodily connection to the planet they must rotate

with Saturn. If, however, the appendages were not actually attached it

would still be necessary that they should rotate if the analogy of

Saturn to other objects in the system were to be in any degree

preserved. We see satellites near Jupiter which revolve around him. We

see, nearer home, how the moon revolves around the earth. We see how all

the planetary system revolves around the sun. All these considerations

were present to Huyghens when he came to the conclusion that, whether

the curious appendages were actually attached to the planet or were

physically free from it, they must still be in rotation.

Provided with such reasonings, it soon became easy to conjecture the

true nature of the Saturnian system. We have seen how the appendages

declined to invisibility once every fifteen years, and then gradually

reappeared in the form, at first, of rectilinear arms projecting

outwards from the planet. The progressive development is a slow one, and

for weeks and months, night after night, the same appearance is

presented with but little change. But all this time both Saturn and the

mysterious objects around him are rotating. Whatever these may be, they

present the same appearance to the eye, notwithstanding their ceaseless

motion of rotation.

What must be the shape of an object which satisfies the conditions here

implied? It will obviously not suffice to regard the projections as two

spokes diverging from the planet. They would change from visibility to

invisibility in every rotation, and thus there would be ceaseless

alterations of the appearance instead of that slow and gradual change

which requires fifteen years for a complete period. There are, indeed,

other considerations which preclude the possibility of the objects being

anything of this character, for they are always of the same length as

compared with the diameter of the planet. A little reflection will show

that one supposition--and indeed only one--will meet all the facts of

the case. If there were a thin symmetrical ring rotating in its own

plane around the equator of Saturn, then the persistence of the object

from night to night would be accounted for. This at once removes the

greater part of the difficulty. For the rest, it was only necessary to

suppose that the ring was so thin that when turned actually edgewise to

the earth it became invisible, and then as the illuminated side of the

plane became turned more and more towards the earth the appendages to

the planet gradually increased. The handle-shaped appearance which the

object periodically assumed demonstrated that the ring could not be

attached to the globe.

At length Huyghens found that he had the clue to the great enigma which

had perplexed astronomers for the last fifty years. He saw that the ring

was an object of astonishing interest, unique at that time, as it is,

indeed, unique still. He felt, however, that he had hardly demonstrated

the matter with all the certainty which it merited, and which he thought

that by further attention he could secure. Yet he was loath to hazard

the loss of his discovery by an undue postponement of its announcement,

lest some other astronomer might intervene. How, then, was he to secure

his priority if the discovery should turn out correct, and at the same

time be enabled to perfect it at his leisure? He adopted the course,

usual at the time, of making his first announcement in cipher, and

accordingly, on March 5th, 1656, he published a tract, which contained

the following proposition:--

aaaaaaa ccccc d eeeee g h

iiiiiii llll mm nnnnnnnnn

oooo pp q rr s ttttt uuuuu

Perhaps some of those curious persons whose successors now devote so

much labour to double acrostics may have pondered on this renowned

cryptograph, and even attempted to decipher it. But even if such

attempts were made, we do not learn that they were successful. A few

years of further study were thus secured to Huyghens. He tested his

theory in every way that he could devise, and he found it verified in

every detail. He therefore thought that it was needless for him any

longer to conceal from the world his great discovery, and accordingly in

the year 1659--about three years after the appearance of his

cryptograph--he announced the interpretation of it. By restoring the

letters to their original arrangement the discovery was enunciated in

the following words:--"_Annulo cingitur_, _tenui_, _plano_, _nusquam

cohaerente_, _ad eclipticam inclinato_," which may be translated into the

statement:--"The planet is surrounded by a slender flat ring everywhere

distinct from its surface, and inclined to the elliptic."

Huyghens was not content with merely demonstrating how fully this

assumption explained all the observed phenomena. He submitted it to the

further and most delicate test which can be applied to any astronomical

theory. He attempted by its aid to make a prediction the fulfilment of

which would necessarily give his theory the seal of certainty. From his

calculations he saw that the planet would appear circular about July or

August in 1671. This anticipation was practically verified, for the ring

was seen to vanish in May of that year. No doubt, with our modern

calculations founded on long-continued and accurate observation, we are

now enabled to make forecasts as to the appearance or the disappearance

of Saturn's ring with far greater accuracy; but, remembering the early

stage in the history of the planet at which the prediction of Huyghens

was made, we must regard its fulfilment as quite sufficient, and as

confirming in a satisfactory manner the theory of Saturn and his ring.

The ring of Saturn having thus been thoroughly established as a fact in

celestial architecture, each generation of astronomers has laboured to

find out more and more of its marvellous features. In the frontispiece

(Plate I.) we have a view of the planet as seen at the Harvard College

Observatory, U.S.A., between July 28th and October 20th, 1872. It has

been drawn by the skilful astronomer and artist--Mr. L. Trouvelot--and

gives a faithful and beautiful representation of this unique object.

Fig. 64 is a drawing of the same object taken on July 2nd, 1894, by

Prof. E.E. Barnard, at the Lick Observatory.

The next great discovery in the Saturnian system after those of Huyghens

showed that the ring surrounding the planet was marked by a dark

concentric line, which divided it into two parts--the outer being

narrower than the inner. This line was first seen by J.D. Cassini, when

Saturn emerged from the rays of the sun in 1675. That this black line

is not merely a black mark on the ring, but that it is actually a

separation, was rendered very probable by the researches of Maraldi in

1715, followed many years later by those of Sir William Herschel, who,

with that thoroughness which was a marked characteristic of the man,

made a minute and scrupulous examination of Saturn. Night after night he

followed it for hours with his exquisite instruments, and considerably

added to our knowledge of the planet and his system.

Herschel devoted very particular attention to the examination of the

line dividing the ring. He saw that the colour of this line was not to

be distinguished from the colour of the space intermediate between the

globe and the ring. He observed it for ten years on the northern face of

the ring, and during that time it continued to present the same breadth

and colour and sharpness of outline. He was then fortunate enough to

observe the southern side of the ring. There again could the black line

be seen, corresponding both in appearance and in position with the dark

line as seen on the northern side. No doubt could remain as to the fact

that Saturn was girdled by two concentric rings equally thin, the outer

edge of one closely approaching to the inner edge of the other.

At the same time it is right to add that the only absolutely

indisputable proof of the division between the rings has not yet been

yielded by the telescope. The appearances noted by Herschel would be

consistent with the view that the black line was merely a part of the

ring extending through its thickness, and composed of materials very

much less capable of reflecting light than the rest of the ring. It is

still a matter of doubt how far it is ever possible actually to see

through the dark line. There is apparently only one satisfactory method

of accomplishing this. It would only occur in rare circumstances, and it

does not seem that the opportunity has as yet arisen. Suppose that in

the course of its motion through the heavens the path of Saturn happened

to cross directly between the earth and a fixed star. The telescopic

appearance of a star is merely a point of light much smaller than the

globes and rings of Saturn. If the ring passed in front of the star and

the black line on the ring came over the star, we should, if the black

line were really an opening, see the star shining through the narrow

aperture.

Up to the present, we believe, there has been no opportunity of

submitting the question of the duplex character of the ring to this

crucial test. Let us hope that as there are now so many telescopes in

use adequate to deal with the subject, there may, ere long, be

observations made which will decide the question. It can hardly be

expected that a very small star would be suitable. No doubt the

smallness of the star would render the observations more delicate and

precise if the star were visible; but we must remember that it will be

thrown into contrast with the bright rings of Saturn on each margin so

that unless the star were of considerable magnitude it would hardly

answer. It has, however, been recently observed that the globe of the

planet can be, in some degree, discerned through the dark line; this is

practically a demonstration of the fact that the line is at all events

partly transparent.

The outer ring is also divided into two by a line much fainter than that

just described. It requires a good telescope and a fine night, combined

with a favourable position of the planet, to render this line a

well-marked object. It is most easily seen at the extremities of the

ring most remote from the planet. To the present writer, who has

examined the planet with the twelve-inch refractor of the South

equatorial at Dunsink Observatory, this outer line appears as broad as

the well-known line; but it is unquestionably fainter, and has a more

shaded appearance. It certainly does not suggest the appearance of being

actually an opening in the ring, and it is often invisible for a long

time. It seems rather as if the ring were at this place thinner and less

substantial without being actually void of substance.

On these points it may be expected that much additional information will

be acquired when next the ring places itself in such a position that its

plane, if produced, would pass between the earth and the sun. Such

occasions are but rare, and even when they do occur it may happen that

the planet will not be well placed for observation. The next really

good opportunity will not be till 1907. In this case the sunlight

illuminates one side of the ring, while it is the other side of the ring

that is presented towards the earth. Powerful telescopes are necessary

to deal with the planet under such circumstances; but it may be

reasonably hoped that the questions relating to the division of the

ring, as well as to many other matters, will then receive some further

elucidation.

Occasionally, other divisions of the ring, both inner and outer, have

been recorded. It may, at all events, be stated that no such divisions

can be regarded as permanent features. Yet their existence has been so

frequently enunciated by skilful observers that it is impossible to

doubt that they have been sometimes seen.

It was about 200 years after Huyghens had first explained the true

theory of Saturn that another very important discovery was effected. It

had, up to the year 1850, been always supposed that the two rings,

divided by the well-known black line, comprised the entire ring system

surrounding the planet. In the year just mentioned, Professor Bond, the

distinguished astronomer of Cambridge, Mass., startled the astronomical

world by the announcement of his discovery of a third ring surrounding

Saturn. As so often happens in such cases, the same object was

discovered independently by another--an English astronomer named Dawes.

This third ring lies just inside the inner of the two well-known rings,

and extends to about half the distance towards the body of the planet.

It seems to be of a totally different character from the two other rings

in so far as they present a comparatively substantial appearance. We

shall, indeed, presently show that they are not solid--not even liquid

bodies--but still, when compared with the third ring, the others were of

a substantial character. They can receive and exhibit the deeply-marked

shadow of Saturn, and they can throw a deep and black shadow upon Saturn

themselves; but the third ring is of a much less compact texture. It has

not the brilliancy of the others, it is rather of a dusky,

semi-transparent appearance, and the expression "crape ring," by which

it is often designated, is by no means inappropriate. It is the

faintness of this crape ring which led to its having been so frequently

overlooked by the earlier observers of Saturn.

It has often been noticed that when an astronomical discovery has been

made with a good telescope, it afterwards becomes possible for the same

object to be observed with instruments of much inferior power. No doubt,

when the observer knows what to look for, he will often be able to see

what would not otherwise have attracted his attention. It may be

regarded as an illustration of this principle, that the crape ring of

Saturn has become an object familiar to those who are accustomed to work

with good telescopes; but it may, nevertheless, be doubted whether the

ease and distinctness with which the crape ring is now seen can be

entirely accounted for by this supposition. Indeed, it seems possible

that the crape ring has, from some cause or other, gradually become more

and more visible. The supposed increased brightness of the crape ring is

one of those arguments now made use of to prove that in all probability

the rings of Saturn are at this moment undergoing gradual

transformation; but observations of Hadley show that the crape ring was

seen by him in 1720, and it was previously seen by Campani and Picard,

as a faint belt crossing the planet. The partial transparency of the

crape ring was beautifully illustrated in an observation by Professor

Barnard of the eclipse of Iapetus on November 1st, 1889. The satellite

was faintly visible in the shadow of the crape ring, while wholly

invisible in the shadow of the better known rings.

The various features of the rings are well shown in the drawing of

Trouvelot already referred to. We here see the inner and the outer ring,

and the line of division between them. We see in the outer ring the

faint traces of the line by which it is divided, and inside the inner

ring we have a view of the curious and semi-transparent crape ring. The

black shadow of the planet is cast upon the ring, thus proving that the

ring, no less than the body of the planet, shines only in virtue of the

sunlight which falls upon it. This shadow presents some anomalous

features, but its curious irregularity may be, to some extent, an

optical illusion.

There can be no doubt that any attempt to depict the rings of Saturn

only represents the salient features of that marvellous system. We are

situated at such a great distance that all objects not of colossal

dimensions are invisible. We have, indeed, only an outline, which makes

us wish to be able to fill in the details. We long, for instance, to see

the actual texture of the rings, and to learn of what materials they are

made; we wish to comprehend the strange and filmy crape ring, so unlike

any other object known to us in the heavens. There is no doubt that much

may even yet be learned under all the disadvantageous conditions of our

position; there is still room for the labour of whole generations of

astronomers provided with splendid instruments. We want accurate

drawings of Saturn under every conceivable aspect in which it may be

presented. We want incessantly repeated measurements, of the most

fastidious accuracy. These measures are to tell us the sizes and the

shapes of the rings; they are to measure with fidelity the position of

the dark lines and the boundaries of the rings. These measures are to be

protracted for generations and for centuries; then and then only can

terrestrial astronomers learn whether this elaborate system has really

the attributes of permanence, or whether it may be undergoing changes.

We have been accustomed to find that the law of universal gravitation

pervades every part of our system, and to look to gravitation for the

explanation of many phenomena otherwise inexplicable. We have good

reasons for knowing that in this marvellous Saturnian system the law of

gravitation is paramount. There are satellites revolving around Saturn

as well as a ring; these satellites move, as other satellites do, in

conformity with the laws of Kepler; and, therefore, any theory as to the

nature of Saturn's ring must be formed subject to the condition that it

shall be attracted by the gigantic planet situated in its interior.

To a hasty glance nothing might seem easier than to reconcile the

phenomena of the ring with the attraction of the planet. We might

suppose that the ring stands at rest symmetrically around the planet. At

its centre the planet pulls in the ring equally on all sides, so that

there is no tendency in it to move in one way rather than another; and,

therefore, it will stay at rest. This will not do. A ring composed of

materials almost infinitely rigid might possibly, under such

circumstances, be for a moment at rest; but it could not remain

permanently at rest any more than can a needle balanced vertically on

its point. In each case the equilibrium is unstable. If the slightest

cause of disturbance arise, the equilibrium is destroyed, and the ring

would inevitably fall in upon the planet. Such causes of derangement are

incessantly present, so that unstable equilibrium cannot be an

appropriate explanation of the phenomena.

Even if this difficulty could be removed, there is still another, which

would be quite insuperable if the ring be composed of any materials with

which we are acquainted. Let us ponder for a moment on the matter, as it

will lead up naturally to that explanation of the rings of Saturn which

is now most generally accepted.

Imagine that you stood on the planet Saturn, near his equator; over your

head stretches the ring, which sinks down to the horizon in the east and

in the west. The half-ring above your horizon would then resemble a

mighty arch, with a span of about a hundred thousand miles. Every

particle of this arch is drawn towards Saturn by gravitation, and if the

arch continue to exist, it must do so in obedience to the ordinary

mechanical laws which regulate the railway arches with which we are

familiar.

The continuance of these arches depends upon the resistance of the

stones forming them to a crushing force. Each stone of an arch is

subjected to a vast pressure, but stone is a material capable of

resisting such pressure, and the arch remains. The wider the span of the

arch the greater is the pressure to which each stone is exposed. At

length a span is reached which corresponds to a pressure as great as the

stones can safely bear, and accordingly we thus find the limiting span

over which a single arch of masonry can be constructed. Apply these

principles to the stupendous arch formed by the ring of Saturn. It can

be shown that the pressure on the materials of the arch capable of

spanning an abyss of such awful magnitude would be something so enormous

that no materials we know of would be capable of bearing it. Were the

ring formed of the toughest steel that was ever made, the pressure would

be so great that the metal would be squeezed like a liquid, and the

mighty structure would collapse and fall down on the surface of the

planet. It is not credible that any materials could exist capable of

sustaining a stress so stupendous. The law of gravitation accordingly

bids us search for a method by which the intensity of this stress can be

mitigated.

One method is at hand, and is obviously suggested by analogous phenomena

everywhere in our system. We have spoken of the ring as if it were at

rest; let us now suppose it to be animated by a motion of rotation in

its plane around Saturn as a centre. Instantly we have a force developed

antagonistic to the gravitation of Saturn. This force is the so-called

centrifugal force. If we imagine the ring to rotate, the centrifugal

force at all points acts in an opposite direction to the attractive

force, and hence the enormous stress on the ring can be abated and one

difficulty can be overcome.

We can thus attribute to each ring a rotation which will partly relieve

it from the stress the arch would otherwise have to sustain. But we

cannot admit that the difficulty has been fully removed. Suppose that

the outer ring revolve at such a rate as shall be appropriate to

neutralise the gravitation on its outer edge, the centrifugal force will

be less at the interior of the ring, while the gravitation will be

greater; and hence vast stresses will be set up in the interior parts of

the outer ring. Suppose the ring to rotate at such a rate as would be

adequate to neutralise the gravitation at its inner margin; then the

centrifugal force at the outer parts will largely exceed the

gravitation, and there will be a tendency to disruption of the ring

outwards.

To obviate this tendency we may assume the outer parts of each ring to

rotate more slowly than the inner parts. This naturally requires that

the parts of the ring shall be mobile relatively to one another, and

thus we are conducted to the suggestion that perhaps the rings are

really composed of matter in a fluid state. The suggestion is, at first

sight, a plausible one; each part of each ring would then move with an

appropriate velocity, and the rings would thus exhibit a number of

concentric circular currents with different velocities. The

mathematician can push this inquiry a little farther, and he can study

how this fluid would behave under such circumstances. His symbols can

pursue the subject into the intricacies which cannot be described in

general language. The mathematician finds that waves would originate in

the supposed fluid, and that as these waves would lead to disruption of

the rings, the fluid theory must be abandoned.

But we can still make one or two more suppositions. What if it be really

true that the ring consist of an incredibly large number of concentric

rings, each animated precisely with the velocity which would be suitable

to the production of a centrifugal force just adequate to neutralise the

attraction? No doubt this meets many of the difficulties: it is also

suggested by those observations which have shown the presence of several

dark lines on the ring. Here again dynamical considerations must be

invoked for the reply. Such a system of solid rings is not compatible

with the laws of dynamics.

We are, therefore, compelled to make one last attempt, and still further

to subdivide the ring. It may seem rather startling to abandon entirely

the supposition that the ring is in any sense a continuous body, but

there remains no alternative. Look at it how we will, we seem to be

conducted to the conclusion that the ring is really an enormous shoal of

extremely minute bodies; each of these little bodies pursues an orbit of

its own around the planet, and is, in fact, merely a satellite. These

bodies are so numerous and so close together that they seem to us to be

continuous, and they may be very minute--perhaps not larger than the

globules of water found in an ordinary cloud over the surface of the

earth, which, even at a short distance, seems like a continuous body.

Until a few years ago this theory of the constitution of Saturn's rings,

though unassailable from a mathematical point of view, had never been

confirmed by observation. The only astronomer who maintained that he had

actually seen the rings rotate was W. Herschel, who watched the motion

of some luminous points on the ring in 1789, at which time the plane of

the ring happened to pass through the earth. From these observations

Herschel concluded that the ring rotated in ten hours and thirty-two

minutes. But none of the subsequent observers, even though they may have

watched Saturn with instruments very superior to that used by Herschel,

were ever able to succeed in verifying his rotation of these appendages

of Saturn. If the ring were composed of a vast number of small bodies,

then the third law of Kepler will enable us to calculate the time which

these tiny satellites would require to travel completely round the

planet. It appears that any satellite situated at the outer edge of the

ring would require as long a period as 13 hrs. 46 min., those about the

middle would not need more than 10 hrs. 28 min., while those at the

inner edge of the ring would accomplish their rotation in 7 hrs. 28 min.

Even our mightiest telescopes, erected in the purest skies and employed

by the most skilful astronomers, refuse to display this extremely

delicate phenomenon. It would, indeed, have been a repetition on a grand

scale of the curious behaviour of the inner satellite of Mars, which

revolves round its primary in a shorter time than the planet itself

takes to turn round on its own axis.

[Illustration: Fig. 66.--Prof. Keeler's Method of Measuring the

Rotation of Saturn's Ring.]

But what the telescope could not show, the spectroscope has lately

demonstrated in a most effective and interesting manner. We have

explained in the chapter on the sun how the motion of a source of light

along the line of vision, towards or away from the observer, produces a

slight shift in the position of the lines of the spectrum. By the

measurement of the displacement of the lines the direction and amount of

the motion of the source of light may be determined. We illustrated the

method by showing how it had actually been used to measure the speed of

rotation of the solar surface. In 1895 Professor Keeler,[26] Director of

the Allegheny Observatory, succeeded in measuring the rotation of

Saturn's ring in this manner. He placed the slit of his spectroscope

across the ball, in the direction of the major axis of the elliptic

figure which the effect of perspective gives the ring as shown by the

parallel lines in Fig. 66 stretching from E to W. His photographic

plate should then show three spectra close together, that of the ball of

Saturn in the middle, separated by dark intervals from the narrower

spectra above and below it of the two handles (or ansae, as they are

generally called) of the ring. In Fig. 67 we have represented the

behaviour of any one line of the spectrum under various suppositions as

to rotation or non-rotation of Saturn and the ring. At the top (1) we

see how each line would look if there was no rotatory motion; the three

lines produced by ring, planet, and ring are in a straight line. Of

course the spectrum, which is practically a very faint copy of the solar

spectrum, shows the principal dark Fraunhofer lines, so that the reader

must imagine these for himself, parallel to the one we show in the

figure. But Saturn and the ring are not standing still, they are

rotating, the eastern part (at E) moving towards us, and the western

part (W) moving away from us.[27] At E the line will therefore be

shifted towards the violet end of the spectrum and at W towards the red,

and as the actual linear velocity is greater the further we get away

from the centre of Saturn (assuming ring and planet to rotate together),

the lines would be turned as in Fig. 67 (2), but the three would remain

in a straight line. If the ring consisted of two independent rings

separated by Cassini's division and rotating with different velocities,

the lines would be situated as in Fig. 67 (3), the lines due to the

inner ring being more deflected than those due to the outer ring, owing

to the greater velocity of the inner ring.

[Illustration: Fig. 67.--Prof. Keeler's Method of Measuring the Rotation

of Saturn's Ring.]

Finally, let us consider the case of the rings, consisting of

innumerable particles moving round the planet in accordance with

Kepler's third law. The actual velocities of these particles would be

per second:--

At outer edge of ring 10.69 miles.

At middle of ring 11.68 miles.

At inner edge of ring 13.01 miles.

Rotation speed at surface of planet 6.38 miles.

The shifting of the lines of the spectrum should be in accordance with

these velocities, and it is easy to see that the lines ought to lie as

in the fourth figure. When Professor Keeler came to examine the

photographed spectra, he found the lines of the three spectra tilted

precisely in this manner, showing that the outer edge of the ring was

travelling round the planet with a smaller linear velocity than the

inner one, as it ought to do if the sources of light (or, rather, the

reflectors of sunlight) were independent particles free to move

according to Kepler's third law, and as it ought not to do if the ring,

or rings, were rigid, in which case the outer edge would have the

greatest linear speed, as it had to travel through the greatest

distance. Here, at last, was the proof of the meteoritic composition of

Saturn's ring. Professor Keeler's beautiful discovery has since been

verified by repeated observations at the Allegheny, Lick, Paris, and

Pulkova Observatories; the actual velocities resulting from the observed

displacements of the lines have been measured and found to agree well

(within the limits of the errors of observation) with the calculated

velocities, so that this brilliant confirmation of the mathematical

deductions of Clerk Maxwell is raised beyond the possibility of doubt.

The spectrum of Saturn is so faint that only the strongest lines of the

solar spectrum can be seen in it, but the atmosphere of the planet seems

to exert a considerable amount of general absorption in the blue and

violet parts of the spectrum, which is especially strong near the

equatorial belt, while a strong band in the red testifies to the density

of the atmosphere. This band is not seen in the spectrum of the rings,

around which there can therefore be no atmosphere.

As Saturn's ring is itself unique, we cannot find elsewhere any very

pertinent illustration of a structure so remarkable as that now claimed

for the ring. Yet the solar system does show some analogous phenomena.

There is, for instance, one on a very grand scale surrounding the sun

himself. We allude to the multitude of minor planets, all confined

within a certain region of the system. Imagine these planets to be

vastly increased in number, and those orbits which are much inclined to

the rest flattened down and otherwise adjusted, and we should have a

ring surrounding the sun, thus producing an arrangement not dissimilar

from that now attributed to Saturn.

It is tempting to linger still longer over this beautiful system, to

speculate on the appearance which the ring would present to an

inhabitant of Saturn, to conjecture whether it is to be regarded as a

permanent feature of our system in the same way as we attribute

permanence to our moon or to the satellites of Jupiter. Looked at from

every point of view, the question is full of interest, and it provides

occupation abundant for the labours of every type of astronomer. If he

be furnished with a good telescope, then has he ample duties to fulfil

in the task of surveying, of sketching, and of measuring. If he be one

of those useful astronomers who devote their energies not to actual

telescopic work, but to forming calculations based on the observations

of others, then the beautiful system of Saturn provides copious

material. He has to foretell the different phases of the ring, to

announce to astronomers when each feature can be best seen, and at what

hour each element can be best determined. He has also to predict the

times of the movements of Saturn's satellites, and the other phenomena

of a system more elaborate than that of Jupiter.

Lastly, if the astronomer be one of that class--perhaps, from some

points of view, the highest class of all--who employ the most profound

researches of the human intellect to unravel the dynamical problems of

astronomy, he, too, finds in Saturn problems which test to the utmost,

even if they do not utterly transcend, the loftiest flights of analysis.

He discovers in Saturn's ring an object so utterly unlike anything else,

that new mathematical weapons have to be forged for the encounter. He

finds in the system so many extraordinary features, and such delicacy of

adjustment, that he is constrained to admit that if he did not actually

see Saturn's rings before him, he would not have thought that such a

system was possible. The mathematician's labours on this wondrous system

are at present only in their infancy. Not alone are the researches of so

abstruse a character as to demand the highest genius for this branch of

science, but even yet the materials for the inquiry have not been

accumulated. In a discussion of this character, observation must precede

calculation. The scanty observations hitherto obtained, however they may

illustrate the beauty of the system, are still utterly insufficient to

form the basis of that great mathematical theory of Saturn which must

eventually be written.

But Saturn possesses an interest for a far more numerous class of

persons than those who are specially devoted to astronomy. It is of

interest, it must be of interest, to every cultivated person who has the

slightest love for nature. A lover of the picturesque cannot behold

Saturn in a telescope without feelings of the liveliest emotion; while,

if his reading and reflection have previously rendered him aware of the

colossal magnitude of the object at which he is looking, he will be

constrained to admit that no more remarkable spectacle is presented in

the whole of nature.

We have pondered so long over the fascinations of Saturn's ring that we

can only give a very brief account of that system of satellites by which

the planet is attended. We have already had occasion to allude more than

once to these bodies; it only remains now to enumerate a few further

particulars.

It was on the 25th of March, 1655, that the first satellite of Saturn

was detected by Huyghens, to whose penetration we owe the discovery of

the true form of the ring. On the evening of the day referred to,

Huyghens was examining Saturn with a telescope constructed with his own

hands, when he observed a small star-like object near the planet. The

next night he repeated his observations, and it was found that the star

was accompanying the planet in its progress through the heavens. This

showed that the little object was really a satellite to Saturn, and

further observations revealed the fact that it was revolving around him

in a period of 15 days, 22 hours, 41 minutes. Such was the commencement

of that numerous series of discoveries of satellites which accompany

Saturn. One by one they were detected, so that at the present time no

fewer than nine are known to attend the great planet through his

wanderings. The subsequent discoveries were, however, in no case made by

Huyghens, for he abandoned the search for any further satellites on

grounds which sound strange to modern ears, but which were quite in

keeping with the ideas of his time. It appears that from some principle

of symmetry, Huyghens thought that it would accord with the fitness of

things that the number of satellites, or secondary planets, should be

equal in number to the primary planets themselves. The primary planets,

including the earth, numbered six; and Huyghens' discovery now brought

the total number of satellites to be also six. The earth had one,

Jupiter had four, Saturn had one, and the system was complete.

Nature, however, knows no such arithmetical doctrines as those which

Huyghens attributed to her. Had he been less influenced by such

prejudices, he might, perhaps, have anticipated the labours of Cassini,

who, by discovering other satellites of Saturn, demonstrated the

absurdity of the doctrine of numerical equality between planets and

satellites. As further discoveries were made, the number of satellites

was at first raised above the number of planets; but in recent times,

when the swarm of minor planets came to be discovered, the number of

planets speedily reached and speedily passed the number of their

attendant satellites.

It was in 1671, about sixteen years after the discovery of the first

satellite of Saturn, that a second was discovered by Cassini. This is

the outermost of the older satellites; it takes 79 days to travel round

Saturn. In the following year he discovered another; and twelve years

later, in 1684, still two more; thus making a total of five satellites

to this planet.

[Illustration: Fig. 68.--Transit of Titan and its Shadow, by F. Terby

Louvain, 12th April, 1892.]

The complexity of the Saturnian system had now no rival in the heavens.

Saturn had five satellites, and Jupiter had but four, while at least one

of the satellites of Saturn, named Titan, was larger than any satellite

of Jupiter.[28] Some of the discoveries of Cassini had been made with

telescopes of quite monstrous dimensions. The length of the instrument,

or rather the distance at which the object-glass was placed, was one

hundred feet or more from the eye of the observer. It seemed hardly

possible to push telescopic research farther with instruments of this

cumbrous type. At length, however, the great reformation in the

construction of astronomical instruments began to dawn. In the hands of

Herschel, it was found possible to construct reflecting telescopes of

manageable dimensions, which were both more powerful and more accurate

than the long-focussed lenses of Cassini. A great instrument of this

kind, forty feet long, just completed by Herschel, was directed to

Saturn on the 28th of August, 1789. Never before had the wondrous planet

been submitted to a scrutiny so minute. Herschel was familiar with the

labours of his predecessors. He had often looked at Saturn and his five

moons in inferior telescopes; now again he saw the five moons and a

star-like object so near the plane of the ring that he conjectured this

to be a sixth satellite. A speedy method of testing this conjecture was

at hand. Saturn was then moving rapidly over the heavens. If this new

object were in truth a satellite, then it must be carried on by Saturn.

Herschel watched with anxiety to see whether this would be the case. A

short time sufficed to answer the question; in two hours and a half the

planet had moved to a distance quite appreciable, and had carried with

him not only the five satellites already known, but also this sixth

object. Had this been a star it would have been left behind; it was not

left behind, and hence it, too, was a satellite. Thus, after the long

lapse of a century, the telescopic discovery of satellites to Saturn

recommenced. Herschel, as was his wont, observed this object with

unremitting ardour, and discovered that it was much nearer to Saturn

than any of the previously known satellites. In accordance with the

general law, that the nearer the satellite the shorter the period of

revolution, Herschel found that this little moon completed a revolution

in about 1 day, 8 hours, 53 minutes. The same great telescope, used with

the same unrivalled skill, soon led Herschel to a still more interesting

discovery. An object so small as only to appear like a very minute

point in the great forty-foot reflector was also detected by Herschel,

and was by him proved to be a satellite, so close to the planet that it

completed a revolution in the very brief period of 22 hours and 37

minutes. This is an extremely delicate object, only to be seen by the

best telescopes in the brief intervals when it is not entirely screened

from view by the ring.

Again another long interval elapsed, and for almost fifty years the

Saturnian system was regarded as consisting of the series of rings and

of the seven satellites. The next discovery has a singular historical

interest. It was made simultaneously by two observers--Professor Bond,

of Cambridge, Mass., and Mr. Lassell, of Liverpool--for on the 19th

September, 1848, both of these astronomers verified that a small point

which they had each seen on previous nights was really a satellite. This

object is, however, at a considerable distance from the planet, and

requires 21 days, 7 hours, 28 minutes for each revolution; it is the

seventh in order from the planet.

Yet one more extremely faint outer satellite was discerned by

photography on the 16th, 17th, and 18th August, 1898, by Professor W.H.

Pickering. This object is much more distant from the planet than the

larger and older satellites. Its motion has not yet been fully

determined, but probably it requires not less than 490 days to perform a

single revolution.

From observations of the satellites it has been found that 3,500 globes

as heavy as Saturn would weigh as much as the sun.

A law has been observed by Professor Kirkwood, which connects together

the movements of the four interior satellites of Saturn. This law is

fulfilled in such a manner as leads to the supposition that it arises

from the mutual attraction of the satellites. We have already described

a similar law relative to three of the satellites of Jupiter. The

problem relating to Saturn, involving as it does no fewer than four

satellites, is one of no ordinary complexity. It involves the theory of

Perturbations to a greater degree than that to which mathematicians are

accustomed in their investigation of the more ordinary features of our

system. To express this law it is necessary to have recourse to the

daily movements of the satellites; these are respectively--

SATELLITE. DAILY MOVEMENT.

I. 382 deg..2.

II. 262 deg..74.

III. 190 deg..7.

IV. 131 deg..4.

The law states that if to five times the movement of the first satellite

we add that of the third and four times that of the fourth, the whole

will equal ten times the movement of the second satellite. The

calculation stands thus:--

5 times I. equals 1911 deg..0

III. equals 190 deg..7 II. 262 deg..74

4 times IV. equals 525 deg..6 10

-------- --------

2627 deg..3 equal 2627 deg..4 nearly.

Nothing can be simpler than the verification of this law; but the task

of showing the physical reason why it should be fulfilled has not yet

been accomplished.

Saturn was the most distant planet known to the ancients. It revolves in

an orbit far outside the other ancient planets, and, until the discovery

of Uranus in the year 1781, the orbit of Saturn might well be regarded

as the frontier of the solar system. The ringed planet was indeed a

worthy object to occupy a position so distinguished. But we now know

that the mighty orbit of Saturn does not extend to the frontiers of the

solar system; a splendid discovery, leading to one still more splendid,

has vastly extended the boundary, by revealing two mighty planets,

revolving in dim telescopic distance, far outside the path of Saturn.

These objects have not the beauty of Saturn; they are, indeed, in no

sense effective telescopic pictures. Yet these outer planets awaken an

interest of a most special kind. The discovery of each is a classical

event in the history of astronomy, and the opinion has been maintained,

and perhaps with reason, that the discovery of Neptune, the more remote

of the two, is the greatest achievement in astronomy made since the time

of Newton.

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