CHAPTER VI

VENUS

Next in order to Mercury, proceeding outwards from the sun, comes the

planet Venus, the twin-sister, so to speak, of the earth, and familiar

more or less to everybody as the Morning and Evening Star. The

diameter of Venus, according to Barnard's measures with the 36-inch

telescope of the Lick Observatory, is 7,826 miles; she is therefore

a little smaller than our own world. Her distance from the sun is a

trifle more than 67,000,000 miles, and her orbit, in strong contrast

with that of Mercury, departs very slightly from the circular. Her

density is a little less than that of the earth.

There is no doubt that, to the unaided eye, Venus is by far the most

beautiful of all the planets, and that none of the fixed stars can

for a moment vie with her in brilliancy. In this respect she is

handicapped by her position as an inferior planet, for she never

travels further away from the sun than 48°, and, even under the most

favourable circumstances, cannot be seen for much more than four hours

after sunset. Thus we never have the opportunity of seeing her, as

Mars and Jupiter can be seen, high in the South at midnight, and far

above the mists of the horizon. Were it possible to see her under such

conditions, she would indeed be a most glorious object. Even as it

is, with all the disadvantages of a comparatively low position and a

denser stratum of atmosphere, her brilliancy is extremely striking,

having been estimated, when at its greatest, at about nine times that

of Sirius, which is the brightest of all the fixed stars, and five

times that of Jupiter when the giant planet is seen to the best

advantage. It is, in fact, so great that, when approaching its

maximum, the shadows cast by the planet's light are readily seen, more

especially if the object casting the shadow have a sharply defined

edge, and the shadow be received upon a white surface--of snow, for

instance. This extreme brilliance points to the fact that the surface

of Venus reflects a very large proportion of the sunlight which falls

upon it--a proportion estimated as being at least 65 per cent., or

not very much less than that reflected by newly fallen snow. Such

reflective power at once suggests an atmosphere very dense and heavily

cloud-laden; and other observations point in the same direction.

So that in the very first two planets of the system we are at once

confronted with that diversity in details which coexists throughout

with a broad general likeness as to figure, shape of orbit, and other

matters. Mercury's reflective power is very small, that of Venus is

exceedingly great; Mercury's atmosphere seems to be very attenuated,

that of Venus, to all appearance, is much denser than that of our own

earth.

Periodically, when Venus appears in all her splendour in the Western

sky, one meets with the suggestion that we are having a re-appearance

of the Star of Bethlehem; and it seems to be a perpetual puzzle to

some people to understand how the same body can be both the Morning

and the Evening Star. Those who have paid even the smallest attention

to the starry heavens are not, however, in the least likely to make

any mistake about the sparkling silver radiance of Venus; and it

would seem as though the smallest application of common-sense to the

question of the apparent motion of a body travelling round an almost

circular orbit which is viewed practically edgewise would solve for

ever the question of the planet's alternate appearance on either side

of the sun. Such an orbit must appear practically as a straight line,

with the sun at its middle point, and along this line the planet will

appear to travel like a bead on a wire, appearing now on one side of

the sun, now on another. If the reader will draw for himself a diagram

of a circle (sufficiently accurate in the circumstances), with the

sun in the centre, and divide it into two halves by a line supposed to

pass from his eye through the sun, he will see at once that when this

circle is viewed edgewise, and so becomes a straight line, a planet

travelling round it is bound to appear to move back and forward along

one half of it, and then to repeat the same movement along the other

half, passing the sun in the process.

Like Mercury, and for the same reason of a position interior to our

orbit, Venus exhibits phases to us, appearing as a fully illuminated

disc when she is furthest from the earth, as a half-moon at the

two intermediate points of her orbit, and as a new moon when she is

nearest to us. The actual proof of the existence of these phases was

one of the first-fruits which Galileo gathered by means of his

newly invented telescope. It is said that Copernicus predicted their

discovery, and they certainly formed one of the conclusive proofs

of the correctness of his theory of the celestial system. It was the

somewhat childish custom of the day for men of science to put forth

the statement of their discoveries in the form of an anagram, over

which their fellow-workers might rack their brains; probably this was

done somewhat for the same reason which nowadays makes an inventor

take out a patent, lest someone should rob the discoverer of the

credit of his discovery before he might find it convenient to make

it definitely public. Galileo's anagram, somewhat more poetically

conceived than the barbarous alphabetic jumble in which Huygens

announced his discovery of the nature of Saturn's ring, read as

follows: 'Hæc immatura a me jam frustra leguntur o. y.' This,

when transposed into its proper order, conveyed in poetic form the

substance of the discovery: 'Cynthiæ figuras æmulatur Mater Amorum'

(The Mother of the Loves [Venus] imitates the phases of Cynthia). It

is true that two letters hang over the end of the original sentence,

but too much is not to be expected of an anagram.

As a telescopic object, Venus is apt to be a little disappointing. Not

that her main features are difficult to see, or are not beautiful. A

2-inch telescope will reveal her phases with the greatest ease, and

there are few more exquisite sights than that presented by the silvery

crescent as she approaches inferior conjunction. It is a picture which

in its way is quite unique, and always attractive even to the most

hardened telescopist.

Still, what the observer wants is not merely confirmation of the

statement that Venus exhibits phases. The physical features of a

planet are always the most interesting, and here Venus disappoints.

That very brilliant lustre which makes her so beautiful an object to

the naked eye, and which is even so exquisite in the telescopic view,

is a bar to any great progress in the detection of the planet's actual

features. For it means that what we are seeing is not really the

surface of Venus, but only the sunward side of a dense atmosphere--the

'silver lining' of heavy clouds which interpose between us and the

true surface of the planet, and render it highly improbable that

anything like satisfactory knowledge of her features will ever be

attained. Newcomb, indeed, roundly asserts that all markings hitherto

seen have been only temporary clouds and not genuine surface markings

at all; though this seems a somewhat absolute verdict in view of the

number of skilled observers who have specially studied the planet and

assert the objective reality of the markings they have detected. The

blunting of the South horn of the planet, visible in Mr. MacEwen's

fine drawing (Plate X.), is a feature which has been noted by so many

observers that its reality must be conceded. On the other hand, some

of the earlier observations recording considerable irregularities of

the terminator (margin of the planet between light and darkness), and

detached points of light at one of the horns, must seemingly be given

up. Denning, one of the most careful of observers, gives the following

opinion: 'There is strong negative evidence among modern observations

as to the existence of abnormal features, so that the presence of

very elevated mountains must be regarded as extremely doubtful....

The detached point at the South horn shown in Schröter's telescope

was probably a false appearance due to atmospheric disturbances or

instrumental defects.' It will be seen, therefore, that the observer

should be very cautious in inferring the actual existence of any

abnormal features which may be shown by a small telescope; and

the more remarkable the features shown, the more sceptical he may

reasonably be as to their reality. The chances are somewhat heavily

in favour of their disappearance under more favourable conditions of

seeing.

[Illustrations (2):

PLATE X.

Venus. H. MacEwen. 5-inch Refractor.]

The same remark applies, with some modifications, to the dark markings

which have been detected on the planet by all sorts of observers

with all sorts of telescopes. There is no doubt that faint grey

markings, such as those shown in Plate X., are to be seen; the

observations of many skilled observers put this beyond all question.

Even Denning, who says that personally he has sometimes regarded the

very existence of these markings as doubtful, admits that 'the evidence

affirming their reality is too weighty and too numerously attested to

allow them to be set aside'; and Barnard, observing with the Lick

telescope, says that he has repeatedly seen markings, but always so

'vague and ill-defined that nothing definite could be made of them.'

The observations of Lowell and Douglass at Flagstaff, Arizona, record

quite a different class of markings, consisting of straight, dark,

well-defined lines; as yet, however, confirmation of these remarkable

features is scanty, and it will be well for the beginner who, with a

small telescope and in ordinary conditions of observing, imagines he

has detected such markings to be rather more than less doubtful about

their reality. The faint grey areas, which are real features, at least

of the atmospheric envelope, if not of the actual surface, are

beyond the reach of small instruments. Mr. MacEwen's drawings, which

accompany this chapter, were made with a 5-inch Wray refractor, and

represent very well the extreme delicacy of these markings. I have

suspected their existence when observing with an 8-1/2-inch With

reflector in good air, but could never satisfy myself that they were

really seen.

Up till the year 1890 the rotation period of Venus was usually stated

at twenty-three hours twenty-one minutes, or thereby, though this

figure was only accepted with some hesitation, as in order to

arrive at it there had to be some gentle squeezing of inconvenient

observations. But in that year Schiaparelli announced that his

observations were only consistent with a long period of rotation,

which could not be less than six months, and was not greater

than nine. The announcement naturally excited much discussion.

Schiaparelli's views were strongly controverted, and for a time the

astronomical world seemed to be almost equally divided in opinion.

Gradually, however, the conclusion has come to be more and more

accepted that Venus, like Mercury, rotates upon her axis in the same

time as she takes to make her journey round the sun--in other words,

that her day and her year are of the same length, amounting to about

225 of our days. In 1900 the controversy was to some extent reopened

by the statement of the Russian astronomer Bélopolsky that his

spectroscopic investigations pointed to a much more rapid rotation--to

a period, indeed, considerably shorter than twenty-four hours. It

is difficult, however, to reconcile this with the absence of polar

flattening in the globe of Venus. Lowell's spectroscopic observations

are stated by him to point to a period in accordance with his

telescopic results--namely, 225 days. The matter can scarcely be

regarded as settled in the meantime, but the balance of evidence seems

in favour of the longer period.

Another curious and unexplained feature in connection with the planet

is what is frequently termed the 'phosphorescence' of the dark side.

This is an appearance precisely similar to that seen in the case of

the moon, and known as 'the old moon in the young moon's arms.' The

rest of the disc appears within the bright crescent, shining with a

dull rusty light. In the case of Venus, however, an explanation is

not so easily arrived at as in that of the moon, where, of course,

earth-light accounts for the visibility of the dark portion. Had the

planet been possessed of a satellite, the explanation might have lain

there; but Venus has no moon, and therefore no moonlight to brighten

her unilluminated portion; and our world is too far distant for

earth-shine to afford an explanation. It has been suggested that

electrical discharges similar to the aurora may be at the bottom of

the mystery; but this seems a little far-fetched, as does also the

attribution of the phenomenon to real phosphorescence of the oceans

of Venus. Professor Newcomb cuts the Gordian knot by observing: 'It

is more likely due to an optical illusion.... To whatever we might

attribute the light, it ought to be seen far better after the end of

twilight in the evening than during the daytime. The fact that it is

not seen then seems to be conclusive against its reality.' But the

appearance cannot be disposed of quite so easily as this, for it is

not accurate to say that it is only seen in the daytime, and against

Professor Newcomb's dictum may be set the judgment of the great

majority of the observers who have made a special study of the planet.

We may, however, safely assign to the limbo of exploded ideas that of

the existence of a satellite of Venus. For long this object was one

of the most persistent of astronomical ghosts, and refused to be

laid. Observations of a companion to the planet, much smaller, and

exhibiting a similar phase, were frequent during the eighteenth

century; but no such object has presented itself to the far finer

instruments of modern times, and it may be concluded that the moon of

Venus has no real existence.

Venus, like Mercury, transits the sun's disc, but at much longer

intervals which render her transits among the rarest of astronomical

events. Formerly they were also among the most important, as they were

believed to furnish the most reliable means for determining the sun's

distance; and most of the estimates of that quantity, up to within the

last twenty-five years, were based on transit of Venus observations.

Now, however, other methods, more reliable and more readily

applicable, are coming into use, and the transit has lost somewhat of

its former importance. The interest and beauty of the spectacle still

remain; but it is a spectacle not likely to be seen by any reader of

these pages, for the next transit of Venus will not take place until

June, 2004.

As already indicated, Venus presents few opportunities for useful

observation to the amateur. The best time for observing, as in

the case of Mercury, is in broad daylight; and for this, unless in

exceptional circumstances, graduated circles and a fairly powerful

telescope are required. Practically the most that can be done by the

possessor of a small instrument is to convince himself of the reality

of the phases, and of the non-existence of a satellite of any size,

and to enjoy the exquisite and varying beauty of the spectacle

which the planet presents. Should his telescope be one of the small

instruments which show hard and definite markings on the surface,

he may also consider that he has learned a useful lesson as to the

possibility of optical illusion, and, incidentally, that he may be

well advised to procure a better glass when the opportunity of doing

so presents itself. The 'phosphorescence' of the dark side may be

looked for, and it may be noted whether it is not seen after dark,

or whether it persists and grows stronger. Generally speaking,

observations should be made as early in the evening as the planet can

be seen in order that the light of the sky may diminish as much as

possible the glare which is so evident when Venus is viewed against a

dark background.

Through the Telescope · 第 6 / 15 章