CHAPTER III

VENUS, THE TWIN OF THE EARTH

We come now to a planet which seems, at the first glance, to afford a

far more promising outlook than Mercury does for the presence of organic

life forms bearing some resemblance to those of the earth. One of the

strongest arguments for regarding Venus as a world much like ours is

based upon its remarkable similarity to the earth in size and mass,

because thus we are assured that the force of gravity is practically the

same upon the two planets, and the force of gravity governs numberless

physical phenomena of essential importance to both animal and vegetable

life. The mean diameter of the earth is 7,918 miles; that of Venus is

7,700 miles. The difference is so slight that if the two planets were

suspended side by side in the sky, at such a distance that their disks

resembled that of the full moon, the eye would notice no inequality

between them.

The mean density of Venus is about nine tenths of that of the earth, and

the force of gravity upon its surface is in the ratio of about 85 to 100

as compared to its force on the surface of the earth. A man removed to

Venus would, consequently, find himself perceptibly lighter than he was

at home, and would be able to exert his strength with considerably

greater effect than on his own planet. But the difference would amount

only to an agreeable variation from accustomed conditions, and would not

be productive of fundamental changes in the order of nature.

Being, like Mercury, nearer to the sun than the earth is, Venus also is

visible to us only in the morning or the evening sky. But her distance

from the sun, slightly exceeding 67,000,000 miles, is nearly double that

of Mercury, so that, when favorably situated, she becomes a very

conspicuous object, and, instead of being known almost exclusively by

astronomers, she is, perhaps, the most popular and most admired of all

the members of the planetary system, especially when she appears in the

charming rôle of the "evening star." As she emerges periodically from

the blinding glare of the sun's immediate neighborhood and begins to

soar, bright as an electric balloon, in the twilight, she commands all

eyes and calls forth exclamations of astonishment and admiration by her

singular beauty. The intervals between her successive reappearances in

the evening sky, measured by her synodic period of 584 days, are

sufficiently long to give an element of surprise and novelty to every

return of so dazzling a phenomenon.

Even the light of the full moon silvering the tree tops does not

exercise greater enchantment over the mind of the contemplative

observer. In either of her rôles, as morning or as evening star, Venus

has no rival. No fixed star can for an instant bear comparison with her.

What she lacks in vivacity of light--none of the planets twinkles, as do

all of the true stars--is more than compensated by the imposing size of

her gleaming disk and the striking beauty of her clear lamplike rays.

Her color is silvery or golden, according to the state of the

atmosphere, while the distinction of her appearance in a dark sky is so

great that no eye can resist its attraction, and I have known an

unexpected glimpse of Venus to put an end to an animated conversation

and distract, for a long time, the attention of a party of ladies and

gentlemen from the social occupation that had brought them together.

As a telescopic object Venus is exceedingly attractive, even when

considered merely from the point of view of simple beauty. Both Mercury

and Venus, as they travel about the sun, exhibit phases like those of

the moon, but Venus, being much larger and much nearer to the earth than

Mercury, shows her successive phases more effectively, and when she

shines as a thin crescent in the morning or evening twilight, only a

very slight magnifying power is required to show the sickle form of her

disk.

A remarkable difference between Venus and Mercury comes out as soon as

we examine the shape of the former's orbit. Venus's mean distance from

the sun is 67,200,000 miles, and her orbit is so nearly a circle, much

more nearly than that of any other planet, that in the course of a

revolution her distance from the sun varies less than a million miles.

The distance of the earth varies 3,000,000 miles, and that of Mercury

14,000,000. Her period of revolution, or the length of her year, is 225

of our days. When she comes between the sun and the earth she approaches

us nearer than any other planet ever gets, except the asteroid Eros, her

distance at such times being 26,000,000 miles, or about one hundred and

ten times the distance of the moon.

Being nearer to the sun in the ratio of 67 to 93, Venus receives almost

twice as much solar light and heat as we get, but less than one third as

much as Mercury gets. There is reason to believe that her axis, instead

of being considerably inclined, like that of the earth, is perpendicular

to the plane of her orbit. Thus Venus introduces to us another novelty

in the economy of worlds, for with a perpendicular axis of rotation she

can have no succession of seasons, no winter and summer flitting, one

upon the other's heels, to and fro between the northern and southern

hemispheres; but, on the contrary, her climatic conditions must be

unchangeable, and, on any particular part of her surface, except for

local causes of variation, the weather remains the same the year around.

So, as far as temperature is concerned, Venus may have two regions of

perpetual winter, one around each pole; two belts of perpetual spring in

the upper middle latitudes, one on each side of the equator; and one

zone of perpetual summer occupying the equatorial portion of the planet.

But, of course, these seasonal terms do not strictly apply to Venus, in

the sense in which we employ them on the earth, for with us spring is

characterized rather by the change in the quantity of heat and other

atmospheric conditions that it witnesses than by a certain fixed and

invariable temperature.

To some minds it may appear very undesirable, from the point of view of

animate existences, that there should be no alternation of seasons on

the surface of a planet, but, instead, fixed conditions of climate; yet

it is not clear that such a state of affairs might not be preferable to

that with which we are familiar. Even on the earth, we find that

tropical regions, where the seasonal changes are comparatively moderate,

present many attractions and advantages in contrast with the violent and

often destructive vicissitudes of the temperate zones, and nature has

shown us, within the pale of our own planet, that she is capable of

bringing forth harvests of fruit and grain without the stimulus of

alternate frost and sunshine.

Even under the reign of perpetual summer the fields and trees find time

and opportunity to rest and restore their productive forces.

The circularity of Venus's orbit, and the consequently insignificant

change in the sun's distance and heating effect, are other elements to

be considered in estimating the singular constancy in the operation of

natural agencies upon that interesting planet, which, twin of the earth

though it be in stature, is evidently not its twin in temperament.

And next as to the all-important question of atmosphere. In what

precedes, the presence of an atmosphere has been assumed, and,

fortunately, there is very convincing evidence, both visual and

spectroscopic, that Venus is well and abundantly supplied with air, by

which it is not meant that Venus's air is precisely like the mixture of

oxygen and nitrogen, with a few other gases, which we breathe and call

by that name. In fact, there are excellent reasons for thinking that the

atmosphere of Venus differs from the earth's quite as much as some of

her other characteristics differ from those of our planet. But, however

it may vary from ours in constitution, the atmosphere of Venus contains

water vapor, and is exceedingly abundant. Listen to Professor Young:

"Its [Venus's] atmosphere is probably from one and a half to two times

as extensive and as dense as our own, and the spectroscope shows

evidence of the presence of water vapor in it."

And Prof. William C. Pickering, basing his statement on the result of

observations at the mountain observatory of Arequipa, says: "We may feel

reasonably certain that at the planet's [Venus's] surface the density of

its atmosphere is many times that of our own."

We do not have to depend upon the spectroscope for evidence that Venus

has a dense atmosphere, for we can, in a manner, _see_ her atmosphere,

in consequence of its refractive action upon the sunlight that strikes

into it near the edge of the planet's globe. This illumination of

Venus's atmosphere is witnessed both when she is nearly between the sun

and the earth, and when, being exactly between them, she appears in

silhouette against the solar disk. During a transit of this kind, in

1882, many observers, and the present writer was one, saw a bright

atmospheric bow edging a part of the circumference of Venus when the

planet was moving upon the face of the sun--a most beautiful and

impressive spectacle.

Even more curious is an observation made in 1866 by Prof. C.S. Lyman, of

Yale College, who, when Venus was very near the sun, saw her atmosphere

_in the form of a luminous ring_. A little fuller explanation of this

appearance may be of interest.

When approaching inferior conjunction--i.e., passing between the earth

and sun--Venus appears, with a telescope, in the shape of a very thin

crescent. Professor Lyman watched this crescent, becoming narrower day

after day as it approached the sun, and noticed that its extremities

gradually extended themselves beyond the limits of a semicircle, bending

to meet one another on the opposite side of the invisible disk of the

planet, until, at length, they did meet, and he beheld a complete ring

of silvery light, all that remained visible of the planet Venus! The

ring was, of course, the illuminated atmosphere of the planet refracting

the sunlight on all sides around the opaque globe.

In 1874 M. Flammarion witnessed the same phenomenon in similar

circumstances. One may well envy those who have had the good fortune to

behold this spectacle--to actually see, as it were, the air that the

inhabitants of another world are breathing and making resonant with all

the multitudinous sounds and voices that accompany intelligent life. But

perhaps some readers will prefer to think that even though an atmosphere

is there, there is no one to breathe it.

[Illustration: VENUS'S ATMOSPHERE SEEN AS A RING OF LIGHT.]

As the visibility of Venus's atmosphere is unparalleled elsewhere in the

solar system, it may be worth while to give a graphic illustration of

it. In the accompanying figure the planet is represented at three

successive points in its advance toward inferior conjunction. As it

approaches conjunction it slowly draws nearer the earth, and its

apparent diameter consequently increases. At _A_ a large part of the

luminous crescent is composed of the planet's surface reflecting the

sunshine; at _B_ the ratio of the reflecting surface to the illuminated

atmosphere has diminished, and the latter has extended, like the curved

arms of a pair of calipers, far around the unilluminated side of the

disk; at _C_ the atmosphere is illuminated all around by the sunlight

coming through it from behind, while the surface of the planet has

passed entirely out of the light--that is to say, Venus has become an

invisible globe embraced by a circle of refracted sunshine.

We return to the question of life. With almost twice as much solar heat

and light as we have, and with a deeper and denser atmosphere than ours,

it is evident, without seeking other causes of variation, that the

conditions of life upon Venus are notably different from those with

which we are acquainted. At first sight it would seem that a dense

atmosphere, together with a more copious supply of heat, might render

the surface temperature of Venus unsuitable for organic life as we

understand it. But so much depends upon the precise composition of the

atmosphere and upon the relative quantities of its constituents, that it

will not do to pronounce a positive judgment in such a case, because we

lack information on too many essential points.

Experiment has shown that the temperature of the air varies with changes

in the amount of carbonic acid and of water vapor that it contains. It

has been suggested that in past geologic ages the earth's atmosphere was

denser and more heavily charged with vapors than it is at present; yet

even then forms of life suited to their environment existed, and from

those forms the present inhabitants of our globe have been developed.

There are several lines of reasoning which may be followed to the

conclusion that Venus, as a life-bearing world, is younger than the

earth, and, according to that view, we are at liberty to imagine our

beautiful sister planet as now passing through some such period in its

history as that at which the earth had arrived in the age of the

carboniferous forests, or the age of the gigantic reptiles who ruled

both land and sea.

But, without making any assumptions as to the phase of evolution which

life may have attained on Venus, it is also possible to think that the

planet's thick shell of air, with its abundant vapors, may serve as a

shield against the excessive solar radiation. Venus is extraordinarily

brilliant, its reflective power being greatly in excess of Mercury's,

and it has often been suggested that this may be due to the fact that a

large share of the sunlight falling upon it is turned back before

reaching the planet's surface, being reflected both from the atmosphere

itself and from vast layers of clouds.

Even when viewed with the most powerful telescopes and in the most

favoring circumstances, the features of Venus's surface are difficult

to see, and generally extremely difficult. They consist of faint shadowy

markings, indefinite in outline, and so close to the limit of visibility

that great uncertainty exists not only as to their shape and their

precise location upon the planet, but even as to their actual existence.

No two observers have represented them exactly alike in drawings of the

planet, and, unfortunately, photography is as yet utterly unable to deal

with them. Mr. Percival Lowell, in his special studies of Venus in 1896,

using a 24-inch telescope of great excellence, in the clear and steady

air of Arizona, found delicate spokelike streaks radiating from a

rounded spot like a hub, and all of which, in his opinion, were genuine

and definite markings on the planet's surface. But others, using larger

telescopes, have failed to perceive the shapes and details depicted by

Mr. Lowell, and some are disposed to ascribe their appearances to

Venus's atmosphere. Mr. Lowell himself noticed that the markings seemed

to have a kind of obscuring veil over them.

In short, all observers of Venus agree in thinking that her atmosphere,

to a greater or less extent, serves as a mask to conceal her real

features, and the possibilities of so extensive an atmosphere with

reference to an adjustment of the peculiar conditions of the planet to

the requirements of life upon it, are almost unlimited. If we could

accurately analyze that atmosphere we would have a basis for more exact

conclusions concerning Venus's habitability.

But the mere existence of the atmosphere is, in itself, a strong

argument for the habitability of the planet, and as to the temperature,

we are really not compelled to imagine special adaptations by means of

which it may be brought into accord with that prevailing upon the earth.

As long as the temperature does not rise to the _destructive_ point,

beyond which our experience teaches that no organic life can exist, it

may very well attain an elevation that would mean extreme discomfort

from our point of view, without precluding the existence of life even in

its terrestrial sense.

And would it not be unreasonable to assume that vital phenomena on other

planets must be subject to exactly the same limitations that we find

circumscribing them in our world? That kind of assumption has more than

once led us far astray even in dealing with terrestrial conditions.

It is not so long ago, for instance, since life in the depths of the sea

was deemed to be demonstrably impossible. The bottom of the ocean, we

were assured, was a region of eternal darkness and of frightful

pressure, wherein no living creatures could exist. Yet the first dip of

the deep-sea trawl brought up animals of marvelous delicacy of

organization, which, although curiously and wonderfully adapted to live

in a compressed liquid, collapsed when lifted into a lighter medium, and

which, despite the assumed perpetual darkness of their profound abode,

were adorned with variegated colors and furnished with organs of

phosphorescence whereby they could create for themselves all the light

they needed.

Even the fixed animals of the sea, growing, like plants, fast to the

rocks, are frequently vivid with living light, and there is a splendid

suggestion of nature's powers of adaptation, which may not be entirely

inapplicable to the problems of life on strange planets, in Alexander

Agassiz's statement that species of sea animals, living below the depths

to which sunlight penetrates, "may dwell in total darkness and be

illuminated at times merely by the movements of abyssal fishes through

the forests of phosphorescent alcyonarians."

In attempting to judge the habitability of a planet such as Venus we

must first, as far as possible, generalize the conditions that govern

life and restrict its boundaries.

On the earth we find animated existence confined to the surface of the

crust of the globe, to the lower and denser strata of the atmosphere,

and to the film of water that constitutes the oceans. It does not exist

in the heart of the rocks forming the body of the planet nor in the void

of space surrounding it outside the atmosphere. As the earth condensed

from the original nebula, and cooled and solidified, a certain quantity

of matter remained at its surface in the form of free gases and unstable

compounds, and, within the narrow precincts where these things were,

lying like a thin shell between the huge inert globe of permanently

combined elements below, and the equally unchanging realm of the ether

above, life, a phenomenon depending upon ceaseless changes, combinations

and recombinations of chemical elements in unstable and temporary union,

made its appearance, and there only we find it at the present time.

It is because air and water furnish the means for the continual

transformations by which the bodies of animals and plants are built up

and afterward disintegrated and dispersed, that we are compelled to

regard their presence as prerequisites to the existence, on any planet,

of life in any of the forms in which we are acquainted with it. But if

we perceive that another world has an atmosphere, and that there is

water vapor in its atmosphere--both of which conditions are fulfilled by

Venus--and if we find that that world is bathed in the same sunshine

that stimulates the living forces of our planet, even though its

quantity or intensity may be different, then it would seem that we are

justified in averring that the burden of proof rests upon those who

would deny the capability of such a world to support inhabitants.

The generally accepted hypothesis of the origin of the solar system

leads us to believe that Venus has experienced the same process of

evolution as that which brought the earth into its present condition,

and we may fairly argue that upon the rocky shell of Venus exists a

region where chemical combinations and recombinations like those on the

surface of the earth are taking place. It is surely not essential that

the life-forming elements should exist in exactly the same states and

proportions as upon the earth; it is enough if some of them are

manifestly present. Even on the earth these things have undergone much

variation in the course of geological history, coincidently with the

development of various species of life. Just at present the earth

appears to have reached a stage where everything contributes to the

maintenance of a very high organization in both the animal and vegetable

kingdoms.

So each planet that has attained the habitable stage may have a typical

adjustment of temperature and atmospheric constitution, rendering life

possible within certain limits peculiar to that planet, and to the

special conditions prevailing there. Admitting, as there is reason for

doing, that different planets may be at different stages of development

in the geological and biological sense, we should, of course, not expect

to find them inhabited by the same living species. And, since there is

also reason to believe that no two planets upon arriving at the same

stage of evolution as globes would possess identical gaseous

surroundings, there would naturally be differences between their organic

life forms notwithstanding the similarity of their common phase of

development in other respects. Thus a departure from the terrestrial

type in the envelope of gases covering a planet, instead of precluding

life, would only tend to vary its manifestations.

After all, why should the intensity of the solar radiation upon Venus be

regarded as inimical to life? The sunbeams awaken life.

It is not impossible that relative nearness to the sun may be an

advantage to Venus from the biologic point of view. She gets less than

one third as much heat as Mercury receives on the average, and she gets

it with almost absolute uniformity. At aphelion Mercury is about two and

four tenths times hotter than Venus; then it rushes sunward, and within

forty-four days becomes six times hotter than Venus. In the meantime the

temperature of the latter, while high as compared with the earth's,

remains practically unchanged. Not only may Mercury's temperature reach

the destructive point, and thus be too high for organic life, but

Mercury gets nothing with either moderation or constancy. It is a world

both of excessive heat and of violent contrasts of temperature. Venus,

on the other hand, presents an unparalleled instance of invariableness

and uniformity. She may well be called the favorite of the sun, and,

through the advantages of her situation, may be stimulated by him to

more intense vitality than falls to the lot of the earth.

It is open, at least to the writers of the interplanetary romances now

so popular, to imagine that on Venus, life, while encompassed with the

serenity that results from the circular form of her orbit, and the

unchangeableness of her climates, is richer, warmer, more passionate,

more exquisite in its forms and more fascinating in its experiences,

keener of sense, capable of more delicious joys, than is possible to it

amid the manifold inclemencies of the colder earth.

We have seen that there is excellent authority for saying that Venus's

atmosphere is from one and a half to two times as dense and as extensive

as ours. Here is an interesting suggestion of aerial possibilities for

her inhabitants. If man could but fly, how would he take to himself

wings and widen his horizons along with the birds! Give him an

atmosphere the double in density of that which now envelopes him, take

off a little of his weight, thereby increasing the ratio of his strength

and activity, put into his nervous system a more puissant stimulus from

the life-giving sun, and perchance he _would_ fly.

Well, on Venus, apparently, these very conditions actually exist. How,

then, do intellectual creatures in the world of Venus take wing when

they choose? Upon what spectacle of fluttering pinions afloat in

iridescent air, like a Raphael dream of heaven and its angels, might we

not look down if we could get near enough to our brilliant evening star

to behold the intimate splendors of its life?

As Venus herself would be the most brilliant member of the celestial

host to an observer stationed on the night side of Mercury, so the earth

takes precedence in the midnight sky of Venus. For the inhabitants of

Venus Mercury is a splendid evening and morning star only, while the

earth, being an outer planet, is visible at times in that part of the

sky which is directly opposite to the place of the sun. The light

reflected from our planet is probably less dazzling than that which

Venus sends to us, both because, at our greater distance, the sunlight

is less intense, and because our rarer atmosphere reflects a smaller

proportion of the rays incident upon it. But the earth is, after all, a

more brilliant phenomenon seen from Venus than the latter is seen from

the earth, for the reason that the entire illuminated disk of the earth

is presented toward our sister planet when the two are at their nearest

point of approach, whereas, at that time, the larger part of the surface

of Venus that is turned earthward has no illumination, while the

illuminated portion is a mere crescent.

Owing, again, to the comparative rarity of the terrestrial atmosphere,

it is probable that the inhabitants of Venus--assuming their

existence--enjoy a superb view of the continents, oceans, polar snows,

and passing clouds that color and variegate the face of the earth. Our

astronomers can study the full disk of Venus only when she is at her

greatest distance, and on the opposite side of the sun from us, where

she is half concealed in the glare. The astronomers of Venus, on the

other hand, can study the earth under the most favorable conditions of

observation--that is to say, when it is nearest to them and when, being

in opposition to the sun, its whole disk is fully illuminated. In fact,

there is no planet in the entire system which enjoys an outlook toward a

sister world comparable with that which Venus enjoys with regard to the

earth. If there be astronomers upon Venus, armed with telescopes, it is

safe to guess that they possess a knowledge of the surface of the earth

far exceeding in minuteness and accuracy the knowledge that we possess

of the features of any heavenly body except the moon. They must long ago

have been able to form definite conclusions concerning the meteorology

and the probable habitability of our planet.

It certainly tends to increase our interest in Venus when, granting

that she is inhabited, we reflect upon the penetrating scrutiny of which

the earth may be the object whenever Venus--as happens once every 584

days--passes between us and the sun. The spectacle of our great planet,

glowing in its fullest splendor in the midnight sky, pied and streaked

with water, land, cloud, and snow, is one that might well excite among

the astronomers of another world, so fortunately placed to observe it,

an interest even greater than that which the recurrence of total solar

eclipses occasions upon the earth. For the inhabitants of Venus the

study of the earth must be the most absorbing branch of observational

astronomy, and the subject, we may imagine, of numberless volumes of

learned memoirs, far exceeding in the definiteness of their conclusions

the books that we have written about the physical characteristics of

other members of the solar system. And, if we are to look for attempts

on the part of the inhabitants of other worlds to communicate with us by

signals across the ether, it would certainly seem that Venus is the

most likely source of such efforts, for from no other planet can those

features of the earth that give evidence of its habitability be so

clearly discerned. Of one thing it would seem we may be certain: if

Venus has intellectual inhabitants they possess far more convincing

evidence of our existence than we are likely ever to have of theirs.

In referring to the view of the earth from Mercury it was remarked that

the moon is probably visible to the naked eye. From Venus the moon is

not only visible, but conspicuous, to the naked eye, circling about the

earth, and appearing at times to recede from it to a distance of about

half a degree--equal to the diameter of the full moon as we see it. The

disk of the earth is not quite four times greater in diameter than that

of the moon, and nowhere else in the solar system is there an instance

in which two bodies, no more widely different in size than are the moon

and the earth, are closely linked together. The moons of the other

planets that possess satellites are relatively so small that they

appear in the telescope as mere specks beside their primaries, but the

moon is so large as compared with the earth that the two must appear, as

viewed from Venus, like a double planet. To the naked eye they may look

like a very wide and brilliant double star, probably of contrasted

colors, the moon being silvery white and the earth, perhaps, now of a

golden or reddish tinge and now green or blue, according to the part of

its surface turned toward Venus, and according, also, to the season that

chances to be reigning over that part.

Such a spectacle could not fail to be of absorbing interest, and we can

not admit the possibility of intelligent inhabitants on Venus without

supposing them to watch the motions of the moon and the earth with the

utmost intentness. The passage of the moon behind and in front of the

earth, and its eclipses when it goes into the earth's shadow, could be

seen without the aid of telescopes, while, with such instruments, these

phenomena would possess the highest scientific interest and importance.

Because the earth has a satellite so easily observable, the astronomers

of Venus could not remain ignorant of the exact mass of our planet, and

in that respect they would outstrip us in the race for knowledge, since,

on account of the lack of a satellite attending Venus, we have been able

to do no more than make an approximate estimate of her mass.

With telescopes, too, in the case of a solar eclipse occurring at the

time of the earth's opposition, they could see the black spot formed by

the shadow of the moon, where the end of its cone moved across the earth

like the point of an invisible pencil, and could watch it traversing

continents and oceans, or thrown out in bold contrast upon the white

background of a great area of clouds. Indeed, the phenomena which our

globe and its satellite present to Venus must be so varied and wonderful

that one might well wish to visit that planet merely for the sake of

beholding them.

Thus far we have found so much of brilliant promise in the earth's twin

sister that I almost hesitate to approach another phase of the subject

which may tend to weaken the faith of some readers in the habitability

of Venus. It may have been observed that heretofore nothing has been

said as to the planet's rotation period, but, without specifically

mentioning it, I have tacitly assumed the correctness of the generally

accepted period of about twenty-four hours, determined by De Vico and

other observers. This period, closely accordant with the earth's, is, as

far as it goes, another argument for the habitability of Venus.

But now it must be stated that no less eminent an authority than

Schiaparelli holds that Venus, as well as Mercury, makes but a single

turn on its axis in the course of a revolution about the sun, and,

consequently, is a two-faced world, one side staring eternally at the

sun and the other side wearing the black mask of endless night.

Schiaparelli made this announcement concerning Venus but a few weeks

after publishing his discovery of Mercury's peculiar rotation. He

himself appears to be equally confident in both cases of the

correctness of his conclusions and the certainty of his observation. As

with Mercury, several other observers have corroborated him, and

particularly Percival Lowell in this country. Mr. Lowell, indeed, seems

unwilling to admit that any doubt can be entertained. Nevertheless, very

grave doubt is entertained, and that by many, and probably by the

majority, of the leading professional astronomers and observers. In

fact, some observers of great ability, equipped with powerful

instruments, have directly contradicted the results of Schiaparelli and

his supporters.

The reader may ask: "Why so readily accept Schiaparelli's conclusions

with regard to Mercury while rejecting them in the case of Venus?"

The reply is twofold. In the first place the markings on Venus, although

Mr. Lowell sketched them with perfect confidence in 1896, are, by the

almost unanimous testimony of those who have searched for them with

telescopes, both large and small, extremely difficult to see,

indistinct in outline, and perhaps evanescent in character. The sketches

of no two observers agree, and often they are remarkably unlike. The

fact has already been mentioned that Mr. Lowell noticed a kind of veil

partially obscuring the markings, and which he ascribed, no doubt

correctly, to the planet's atmosphere. But he thinks that,

notwithstanding the atmospheric veil, the markings noted by him were

unquestionably permanent features of the planet's real surface.

Inasmuch, however, as his drawings represent things entirely different

from what others have seen, there seems to be weight in the suggestion

that the radiating bands and shadings noticed by him were in some manner

illusory, and perhaps of atmospheric origin.

If the markings were evidently of a permanent nature and attached to the

solid shell of the planet, and if they were of sufficient distinctness

to be seen in substantially the same form by all observers armed with

competent instruments, then whatever conclusion was drawn from their

apparent motion as to the period of the planet's rotation would have to

be accepted. In the case of Mercury the markings, while not easily seen,

appear to be sufficiently distinct to afford confidence in the result of

observations based upon them, but Venus's markings have been represented

in so many different ways that it seems advisable to await more light

before accepting any extraordinary, and in itself improbable, conclusion

based upon them.

It should also be added that in 1900 spectroscopic observations by

Belopolski at Pulkova gave evidence that Venus really rotates rapidly on

her axis, in a period probably approximating to the twenty-four hours of

the earth's rotation, thus corroborating the older conclusions.

Belopolski's observation, it may be remarked, was based upon what is

known as the Doppler principle, which is employed in measuring the

motion of stars in the line of sight, and in other cases of rapidly

moving sources of light. According to this principle, when a source of

light, either original or reflected, is approaching the observer, the

characteristic lines in its spectrum are shifted toward the blue end,

and when it is retreating from the observer the lines are shifted toward

the red end. Now, in the case of a planet rotating rapidly on its axis,

it is clear that if the observer is situated in, or nearly in, the plane

of the planet's equator, one edge of its disk will be approaching his

eye while the opposite edge is retreating, and the lines in the spectrum

of a beam of light from the advancing edge will be shifted toward the

blue, while those in the spectrum of the light coming from the

retreating edge will be shifted toward the red. And, by carefully noting

the amount of the shifting, the velocity of the planet's rotation can be

computed. This is what was done by Belopolski in the case of Venus, with

the result above noted.

Secondly, the theory that Venus rotates but once in the course of a

revolution finds but slight support from the doctrine of tidal friction,

as compared with that which it receives when applied to Mercury. The

effectiveness of the sun's attraction in slowing down the rotation of a

planet through the braking action of the tides raised in the body of the

planet while it is yet molten or plastic, varies inversely as the sixth

power of the planet's distance. For Mercury this effectiveness is nearly

three hundred times as great as it is for the earth, while for Venus it

is only seven times as great. While we may admit, then, that Mercury,

being relatively close to the sun and subject to an enormous braking

action, lost rotation until--as occurred for a similar reason to the

moon under the tidal attraction of the earth--it ended by keeping one

face always toward its master, we are not prepared to make the same

admission in the case of Venus, where the effective force concerned is

comparatively so slight.

It should be added, however, that no certain evidence of polar

compression in the outline of Venus's disk has ever been obtained, and

this fact would favor the theory of a very slow rotation because a

plastic globe in swift rotation has its equatorial diameter increased

and its polar diameter diminished. If Venus were as much flattened at

the poles as the earth is, it would seem that the fact could not escape

detection, yet the necessary observations are very difficult, and Venus

is so brilliant that her light increases the difficulty, while her

transits across the sun, when she can be seen as a round black disk, are

very rare phenomena, the latest having occurred in 1874 and 1882, and

the next not being due until 2004.

Upon the whole, probably the best method of settling the question of

Venus's rotation is the spectroscopic method, and that, as we saw, has

already given evidence for the short period.

Even if it were established that Venus keeps always the same face to the

sun, it might not be necessary to abandon altogether the belief that she

is habitable, although, of course, the obstacles to that belief would be

increased. Venus's orbit being so nearly circular, and her orbital

motion so nearly invariable, she has but a very slight libration with

reference to the sun, and the east and west lunes on her surface, where

day and night would alternate once in her year of 225 days, would be so

narrow as to be practically negligible.

But, owing to her extensive atmosphere, there would be a very broad band

of twilight on Venus, running entirely around the planet at the inner

edge of the light hemisphere. What the meteorological conditions within

this zone would be is purely a matter of conjecture. As in the case of

Mercury, we should expect an interchange of atmospheric currents between

the light and dark sides of the planet, the heated air rising under the

influence of the unsetting sun in one hemisphere, and being replaced by

an indraught of cold air from the other. The twilight band would

probably be the scene of atmospheric conflicts and storms, and of

immense precipitation, if there were oceans on the light hemisphere to

charge the air with moisture.

It has been suggested that ice and snow might be piled in a vast circle

of glaciers, belting the planet along the line between perpetual day

and night, and that where the sunbeams touched these icy deposits near

the edge of the light hemisphere a marvelous spectacle of prismatic

hills of crystal would be presented!

It may be remarked that it would be the inhabitants of the dark

hemisphere who would enjoy the beautiful scene of the earth and the moon

in opposition.

Other Worlds Their Nature, Possibilities and Habitability in the Light of the Latest Discoveries · 第 3 / 9 章