That Herbert Hall Turner, Professor of Astronomy in the University

of Oxford, does not regard the various contributions on the surface

features of Mars as belonging to astronomical science may be inferred

from his interesting book lately published, entitled "Astronomical

Discovery." This book presents to us the history of the discovery of

Uranus and Eros, of Neptune, Bradley's aberration of light, Schwabe and

sun-spot period, the variation of latitude, etc., but not a word about

the marvellous discoveries of the _canali_ of Mars by Schiaparelli, so

fully confirmed by the observation and drawings of many others, and the

great advances made by Lowell in the discovery of new features with his

lucid and rational interpretation of the seeming enigmas.

Astronomy, the oldest and most conservative of all the sciences, has

been the last to subdivide. Already one group of men has justified

by its work a division of the science known as astrophysics. The

lamented Keeler, in explaining the difference between astronomy and

astrophysics, said: "Astrophysics seeks to ascertain the nature of the

heavenly bodies, rather than their positions and motions in space,

_what_ they are, rather than _where_ they are." This natural division

suggests the propriety of making another division equally distinct,

which should comprise the study and interpretation of the surface

markings of the planets and satellites, under the name of planetology.

The study would be the application to these bodies of the science

of geology, in its broadest sense, meteorology, physical geography,

geodesy, and related sciences.

With the science of planetology established, the student of this

science will no longer call to his aid the astronomer, and, least of

all, the astrophysicist, nor will he be mindful of their criticism or

neglect. He will appeal to the sciences which are involved in the study

of the surface features of his own globe, in the interpretation of

planetary detail.

VII

DIFFICULTIES OF SEEING

_It is contrary to all the analogies of nature to suppose

that life began only on a single world._

SIMON NEWCOMB.

For years I had been familiar with different representations of Mars

in which the surface features had been strongly depicted in black and

white; in other words, photo-reliefs, or engravings incorporated with

the printed page. I had unwittingly come to believe that these features

were equally distinct when one observed Mars through the telescope. I

had not then seen Schiaparelli's original memoir in which his wonderful

map presents the canals in light and tenuous lines, which are, however,

as clear cut as the lines of a steel engraving, to use his words. For

a long time I had hoped for a chance to observe Mars through a large

telescope in a clear and steady atmosphere. It seemed reasonable to

me--knowing nothing about it--that one who had traced out under the

microscope delicate lines and structural features in diaphanous

membranes, who had, in fact, used a microscope with high powers for

forty years, would find it child's play to make out the canals, oases,

regions, etc., of Mars, as represented in the various publications on

the subject. Professor Percival Lowell, of Flagstaff, Arizona, finally

gave me the opportunity I so much desired, and, through his courtesy

and kindness, I was enabled to observe Mars every night for nearly six

weeks through his twenty-four inch refractor, the last and probably

the best telescope ever made by Clark, mounted in one of the steadiest

atmospheres in the world and at an altitude above sea-level of over

7,000 feet. Imagine my surprise and chagrin when I first saw the

beautiful disk of Mars through this superb telescope. Not a line! not a

marking! The object I saw could only be compared in appearance to the

open mouth of a crucible filled with molten gold. Slight discolorations

here and there and evanescent areas outlined for the tenth of a second,

but not a determinate line or spot to be seen. Had I stopped that

night, or even a week later, I might have joined the ranks of certain

observers and said "illusion" or something worse. And right here it

was that my experience in microscopic work helped me, for, remembering

the hours--nay, days--I had worked, in making out structural features

in delicate organisms which my unprofessional friends could not see at

all, I realized that patient observation would be required if I was to

be successful in my efforts. My despair, however, was overwhelming when

Professor Lowell and his assistants, looking for a few moments at the

same object, would draw on paper the features which had been plainly

revealed to them, consisting of definite shaded regions, a number of

canals and other markings, of which, with the utmost scrutiny, I could

hardly detect a trace. For the first time I realized that observing

fixed diaphanous membranes under a microscope with rigid stand, and

within four inches of one's nose, was quite a different matter from

observing a brilliant disk 4,200 miles in diameter, 52,000,000 miles

away, with an oscillating atmosphere of unknown depth between. Night

after night I examined this golden, opalescent disk, drawing each

time such features as I could convey by memory from the ocular to the

drawing table, and, little by little, new features were detected, and

to my delight the drawings agreed with those made by the others. Since

the drawings made by the four observers coincided, it was evident that

we had not been victims of subjective phenomena. Furthermore, as I

discovered afterwards, by comparison, the drawings I made not only

agreed with theirs but with those made by other observers, at different

times, in other parts of the world. So slow were my acquisitions,

however, that it soon became evident that at least months of continuous

observation would be necessary before the more delicate markings would

be revealed to me. It is interesting to learn that others have had a

similar experience. Mr. A. Stanley Williams, of England, in an article

entitled "Notes on Mars" ("Observatory," June, 1899), in stating the

difficulties of observation, says: "My eye invariably requires at least

two months of continuous observation of a planet before it acquires its

full sensitiveness to the most minute details."

In this connection it is well to state that Mr. Lowell began the

observation of Mars when he was a mere boy. His first telescope, which

he still has, was a two and a quarter inch refractor. His observations

were made from the roof of his house in Boston, and with this small

glass he defined the general shaded regions that Huyghens had detected

and drawn in 1659. Since then Mr. Lowell has observed in turn through

a six inch, an eighteen inch of Brashear, and, for the last few years,

through a twenty-four inch refractor made by Clark especially for this

work.

To refute the accumulated observations of Mr. Lowell one must have the

same acute eye, and a record of the same continuous and devoted study.

Nothing short of that experience will avail. The jealous derision that

has gone up from some observers endowed with less acuteness of vision

is neither dignified nor just. Were these Martian details based upon

the observations of Lowell alone, one might be inclined to say that

some vagary of the mind had led him to imagine these markings which

were first detected by the great Italian astronomer Schiaparelli. Up

to the present time--to mention only a few--observations and drawings

have been made by Perrotin, Thollon, and Flammarion, of France; Dr.

Phil. Fauth, of Germany; Williams, of England; Lowell, W. H. Pickering,

Douglass, Lampland, and Schaeberle, of America, while many others have

made drawings of the more conspicuous details. With this record it is

impossible to deny the existence of these markings essentially as they

are drawn.

The difficulty of seeing the more delicate markings of the planet

is unquestionable, and an examination of astronomical literature,

from which we shall make numerous quotations, indicates only too

plainly the acuteness of vision, and the time and care necessary to

make competent observations. Sir Robert Ball says, in one of his

recent works: "The detection of the Martian features indicates one

of the utmost refinements of astronomical observations." Macpherson,

in his "Astronomers of To-day," thus writes of Schiaparelli,

"Professor Schiaparelli's observations have been distinguished by his

keen-sightedness and care. He has taken every precaution to avoid all

disturbances resulting from personal equation, and has found it well

to adopt the rule (which he here quotes) 'to abstain from everything

which could affect the nervous system, from narcotics and alcohol, and

especially from the abuse of coffee, which I found to be exceedingly

prejudicial to the accuracy of observation.'" What I might have

accomplished in the way of seeing had I followed the wise example of

Schiaparelli I do not know. A not too strict abstemiousness in any of

these matters, coupled with long daily walks on the Mesa, with its

fascinating flora and fauna, found me in the observer's chair every

night, somewhat fatigued mentally and physically.

Sir Robert Ball, in his "Popular Guide to the Heavens," in describing

the difficulty in making out the more delicate markings of Mars,

says: "It should be understood that in the unsteady air of England it

is almost hopeless to expect many of the finer details; not even in

the most favorable climates are they to be seen always, or all at

once, and much training of the eye is required before it is fit to

decide for or against the existence of these details on the verge of

invisibility." As another illustration, perhaps, of the difficulties

of seeing, Sir Robert, in the same book, says: "Observers of Mars are

divided into two camps, those who see the canals, and those who do not.

The former are in the strong position that they are perfectly sure that

they see what they represent in their drawings."

From the foregoing it must be evident that not only are the finer

markings on Mars most difficult to see even under the best conditions

but that exceptional acuteness of vision, which few possess, united

with long practice, is necessary to make out the tenuous lines which

enclose the field of Mars like a net. That Mr. Lowell has had a long

and continuous practice, covering years, in observing Mars through

the steadiest of atmospheres and with a superb glass, is simply a

statement of fact. It may be said without fear of contradiction that

he has devoted more time to the observation of Mars than all the other

observers combined. Has he then an exceptional acuteness of sight,

coupled with indefatigable industry, in the pursuit of this quest to

which he is devoting his life and fortune? The following instance

will illustrate his marvellous eyesight. We were walking along the

shores of a lake some miles from Flagstaff, the expanse of shore left

by the rapidly evaporating waters abounding with thousands of very

small black spiders running hither and thither at our approach. I

told him of one I had just seen in which the abdomen was covered with

minute young spiders which the mother was carrying about with her--a

well-known habit of certain species. This curious fact I had detected

only while stooping close to the ground in search of minute shells. Mr.

Lowell, while walking along, immediately began scanning the ground for

the trace of a spider with minutely granulated abdomen, and finally

exclaimed: "There is one of them!" On stooping down to examine the

object it proved to my astonishment to be a female carrying its young

in the way already described. This incident revealed a remarkable

acuteness of vision to detect, while standing erect and walking,

this tiny spider among hundreds of others of its species that were

scampering away at our approach.

Not only is acuteness of vision necessary to one who is to study

planetary markings, but of importance also is a clear, and above all

a steady atmosphere; and, strange as it may appear, telescopes of

moderate size seem to be the instruments with which the best work has

been done. It is also true in astronomy, as in warfare, that it is not

the biggest gun but the man behind the gun that does the most efficient

work. As an evidence of the importance of steady atmosphere Professor

W. H. Pickering, in his observations on the satellites of Jupiter,

says his work had two important bearings: "First, as showing the

relative importance of atmosphere _versus_ aperture for delicate visual

observations of this sort. In the same category would be included

studies of planetary detail as distinguished from the examination of

very faint objects. In other words, if an observer wishes to study

very faint stars he must have a large telescope. If he wishes to study

the neighboring planets and brighter satellites he may use a small

telescope, but he must have a very good atmosphere."

The importance of a clear and steady atmosphere, for delicate

observation, is known to all astronomers. The rarity of such days,

even in our clear atmosphere so superior to that of England, is not

generally known. Forty years ago Dr. Henry Draper, in an address

entitled "Are Other Worlds Inhabited?" in speaking of Mars and the

difficulties of seeing, said: "One of the greatest obstacles to

distinct vision is our own atmosphere. Its currents and motions tend

to confuse the outlines of objects, and, according to my experience, a

whole year may pass without the occurrence of more than one good night.

The only remedy is to carry the telescope as high up on a mountain

as possible, so as to leave below the more injurious portions of the

atmosphere. It might be possible to work 15,000 feet above the sea in

the neighborhood of the Equator." I quote these words that the general

reader may appreciate the advantages Lowell has with his fine telescope

south of all European observatories, in the latitude, say of Algiers,

at a high altitude, and in the dry and steady atmosphere of Arizona,

with uninterrupted seeing for weeks together, and each night far

superior to any night which Greenwich could ever be blessed with.

Professor W. H. Pickering attests to the importance of a steady

atmosphere in studying the Moon from a station in Jamaica, when he

says that, with a five inch refractor, he was able to detect minute

details which were not revealed by the far larger telescopes at Harvard

University.

Mr. W. D. Barbour, President of the Leeds Astronomical Society, using

his four inch achromatic, says: "In one of those brief intervals

of atmospheric steadiness I saw distinctly a number of well-known

markings," the names of which he gives. Dr. Phil. Fauth, using a seven

inch refractor, made sixty-three drawings of Mars, showing in wonderful

detail the canals, oases, etc. Mr. W. J. Lockyer, in London "Nature,"

testifies that "a keen and patient observer, sitting at the eyepiece of

a comparatively small equatorially mounted telescope, if he makes his

observations carefully, and with due regard to atmospheric conditions

for good seeing, can do more useful and valuable work than one who has

a large aperture at his command and employs it indifferently." Mr. E.

Ledger, in speaking of Dawes, who made a remarkable map of Mars, says

he was justly famed for the remarkable distinctness of his vision; he

had detected and drawn a few lines which seemed to be identical to

those of Schiaparelli.

In the authorities above quoted we have endeavored to show that a

steady atmosphere, a persistent devotion to the work, accompanied by

acute vision, and also a talent for observation, are all the factors

needed, not only to confirm the remarkable discoveries of Schiaparelli

and Lowell, but possibly to detect, at favorable moments, new features

which have escaped the eyes of these keen observers.

At this point we cannot resist giving the words of Sir David Gill,

Director of the Royal Observatory at the Cape of Good Hope. Professor

S. W. Burnham, of the Lick Observatory, in reviewing a memoir entitled

"Double Star Observations at the Cape of Good Hope," quotes as

follows from the preface: "Sir David Gill, in speaking of the routine

character of the work involved in the investigation, says: 'There is

no instance, as far as I know, of a long and valuable series of double

star discovery and observation made by a mere assistant acting under

orders. _It is a special faculty, an inborn capacity, a delight in the

exercise of exceptional acuteness of eyesight and natural dexterity,

coupled with the gift of imagination as to the true meaning of what he

observes, that imparts to the observer the requisite enthusiasm for

double star observing._ No amount of training or direction could have

created the Struves, a Dawes, or a Dembowski. _The great double star

observer is born, not made_, and I believe that no extensive series of

double star measurement will ever emanate from a regular observatory,

through successive directorates, unless men are specially selected

who have previously distinguished themselves in that field of work,

and who were originally driven to it from sheer compulsion of inborn

taste.'" If the reader will substitute the words _planetary markings_

for _double star_ in the above quotation from Sir David Gill's report,

he will understand why we have ventured to italicise certain lines, and

will appreciate their significance. In no stronger or truer words could

one have emphasized the conditions involved in a critical study of the

surface features of Mars.

In the experience of an astronomer, it is not an unusual occurrence

that an object in the heavens, fairly conspicuous, remains unseen

until by some lucky chance an observer sweeping the sky picks it

up, and, having determined its position, it is promptly found by

others. Professor H. H. Turner, in his "Astronomical Discovery of the

Nineteenth Century," says: "It is a common experience in astronomy that

an observer may fail to notice in a general scrutiny, some phenomenon

which he can see perfectly well when his attention is called to it;

when a man has made a discovery, and others are told what to look for,

they often see it so easily that they are filled with amazement and

chagrin that they never saw it before."

In the Rev. T. W. Webb's interesting book on "Celestial Objects for

Common Telescopes," a reminiscence of the author is given by a friend

in which the following is related as illustrating the varying ability

of observers in seeing. "A curious instance of difference of vision was

well illustrated one superb evening when Mr. Webb and the writer were

observing Saturn with the nine and a half inch refractor at Hardwick.

Mr. Webb saw distinctly the division in the outer ring which the writer

could not see a trace of, while the writer picked up a faint point of

light which afterwards turned out to be Enceladus (a satellite) which

Mr. Webb could not see."

In my brief observation of Mars I probably might have made out many

more details if I had permitted Mr. Lowell to tell me what to see, and

where to look for them on the disk. This I would not allow him to do,

nor did I study any of the numerous drawings in his own work, or the

original memoirs of Schiaparelli, or other works containing drawings of

Mars in his library. I would not learn the names of any of the regions,

or canals, nor with a single exception do I know them now. Only when

I had finished my last night's observations, did Mr. Lowell take my

drawings and write out a list of the various canals, oases, etc., which

I had made out. Thus, unaided, I drew simply what was plainly evident,

though many other details flashed out for a second, which were not

recorded, simply because I did not see them often enough to be sure of

their precise position on the disk.

Mr. Lowell points out one of the reasons why so many observers and

astronomers have not seen the canals. In the third volume of the

"Annals of the Lowell Observatory" he refers to a certain series of

observations of Mars, made in 1894, and says: "Not only was there

no sign of a canal, but even the main markings showed disheartingly

indefinite." "This vacancy of expression was due to the Martian date."

"It was the very nick of time to see nothing, for the part of the

planet most presented to the Earth was then at the height of the dead

season, and in this fact lies the key to much past undetection and

present unbelief in the phenomenon of the canals."

VIII

VARIATION IN DRAWING

_Let us not cheat ourselves with words. Conservatism sounds

finely and covers any amount of ignorance and fear._

PERCIVAL LOWELL.

Much doubt has been expressed as to the existence of the so-called

canals in Mars and other surface markings of that planet in consequence

of the discrepancy seen in the drawings of the more delicate features

by various observers. While in the main a certain general resemblance

is seen in the topographical character of the network of lines,

and a more close resemblance in the darker markings, notably the

Syrtis Major, the disagreement in the minor details has led certain

astronomers to deny their existence altogether, or to insist that most

of the markings were subjective, or due to poor focusing, or the result

of aberration of the eye or lens. Professor Simon Newcomb, in his "New

Astronomy for Everybody," in speaking of the work of the observers at

the Lick Observatory and the great telescope at their command coupled

with favorable situation, says: "It is therefore noteworthy that the

markings on the face of Mars as presented by Barnard do not quite

correspond to the channels of Schiaparelli and Lowell." Newcomb also

reproduces in his book the drawings of a region in Mars known as Solis

Lacus, made by Campbell and Hussey, and finds they do not show an exact

agreement between them. Now such objections might have some weight if

drawings made by different observers of the Solar Corona, for example,

or the Nebula of Orion, or the Milky Way had any close resemblance.

As a matter of fact, these various drawings depart far more widely

from the originals, as shown by photographic reproduction, than do

the various drawings of Mars. Mr. Fison, in his "Recent Advances in

Astronomy," in speaking of the divergence in the drawings made by

different observers, says: "In inspecting sketches of the delicate

details of the Corona of the Sun made at the same place by different

observers, it is difficult to believe that the same object has been

represented." To appreciate how widely divergent such drawings are one

has only to refer to the United States Naval Observatory publication on

the Total Eclipse of the Sun, July 29, 1878.

[Illustration: PLATE II

DRAWINGS OF THE SOLAR CORONA BY VARIOUS OBSERVERS]

Mars and Its Mystery · 第 4 / 9 段