The Story of the Heavens Part 21

It was on the 23rd of September that Le Verrier's letter reached Dr.

Galle at Berlin. The sky that night was clear, and we can imagine with what anxiety Dr. Galle directed his telescope to the heavens. The instrument was pointed in accordance with Le Verrier's instructions. The field of view showed a mult.i.tude of stars, as does every part of the heavens. One of these was really the planet. The new chart was unrolled, and, star by star, the heavens were compared with it. As the identification of the stars went on, one object after another was found to lie in the heavens as it was engraved on the chart, and was of course rejected. At length a star of the eighth magnitude--a brilliant object--was brought into review. The chart was examined, but there was no star there. This object could not have been in its present place when the chart was formed. The object was therefore a wanderer--a planet. Yet it was necessary to be cautious in such a matter. Many possibilities had to be guarded against. It was, for instance, at least conceivable that the object was really a star which, by some mischance, eluded the careful eye of the astronomer who had constructed the map. It was even possible that the star might be one of the large cla.s.s of variables which alternate in brightness, and it might have been too faint to have been visible when the chart was made. Or it might be one of the minor planets moving between Mars and Jupiter. Even if none of these explanations would answer, it was still necessary to show that the object was moving with that particular velocity and in that particular direction which the theory of Le Verrier indicated. The lapse of a single day was sufficient to dissipate all doubts. The next night the object was again observed. It had moved, and when its motion was measured it was found to accord precisely with what Le Verrier had foretold. Indeed, as if no circ.u.mstance in the confirmation should be wanting, the diameter of the planet, as measured by the micrometers at Berlin, proved to be practically coincident with that antic.i.p.ated by Le Verrier.

The world speedily rang with the news of this splendid achievement.

Instantly the name of Le Verrier rose to a pinnacle hardly surpa.s.sed by that of any astronomer of any age or country. The circ.u.mstances of the discovery were highly dramatic. We picture the great astronomer buried in profound meditation for many months; his eyes are bent, not on the stars, but on his calculations. No telescope is in his hand; the human intellect is the instrument he alone uses. With patient labour, guided by consummate mathematical artifice, he manipulates his columns of figures. He attempts one solution after another. In each he learns something to avoid; by each he obtains some light to guide him in his future labours. At length he begins to see harmony in those results where before there was but discord. Gradually the clouds disperse, and he discerns with a certainty little short of actual vision the planet glittering in the far depths of s.p.a.ce. He rises from his desk and invokes the aid of a practical astronomer; and lo! there is the planet in the indicated spot. The annals of science present no such spectacle as this. It was the most triumphant proof of the law of universal gravitation. The Newtonian theory had indeed long ere this attained an impregnable position; but, as if to place its truth in the most conspicuous light, this discovery of Neptune was accomplished.

For a moment it seemed as if the French were to enjoy the undivided honour of this splendid triumph; nor would it, indeed, have been unfitting that the nation which gave birth to Lagrange and to Laplace, and which developed the great Newtonian theory by their immortal labours, should have obtained this distinction. Up to the time of the telescopic discovery of the planet by Dr. Galle at Berlin, no public announcement had been made of the labours of Challis in searching for the planet, nor even of the theoretical researches of Adams on which those observations were based. But in the midst of the paeans of triumph with which the enthusiastic French nation hailed the discovery of Le Verrier, there appeared a letter from Sir John Herschel in the _Athenaeum_ for 3rd October, 1846, in which he announced the researches made by Adams, and claimed for him a partic.i.p.ation in the glory of the discovery. Subsequent enquiry has shown that this claim was a just one, and it is now universally admitted by all independent authorities. Yet it will easily be imagined that the French _savants_, jealous of the fame of their countryman, could not at first be brought to recognise a claim so put forward. They were asked to divide the unparalleled honour between their own ill.u.s.trious countryman and a young foreigner of whom but few had ever heard, and who had not even published a line of his work, nor had any claim been made on his part until after the work had been completely finished by Le Verrier. The demand made on behalf of Adams was accordingly refused any acknowledgment in France; and an embittered controversy was the consequence. Point by point the English astronomers succeeded in establis.h.i.+ng the claim of their countryman. It was true that Adams had not published his researches to the world, but he had communicated them to the Astronomer-Royal, the official head of the science in this country. They were also well known to Professor Challis, the Professor of Astronomy at Cambridge. Then, too, the work of Adams was published, and it was found to be quite as thorough and quite as successful as that of Le Verrier. It was also found that the method of search adopted by Professor Challis not only must have been eventually successful, but that it actually was in a sense already successful. When the telescopic discovery of the planet had been achieved, Challis turned naturally to see whether he had observed the new globe also. It was on the 1st October that he heard of the success of Dr. Galle, and by that time Challis had acc.u.mulated observations in connection with this research of no fewer than 3,150 stars. Among them he speedily found that an object observed on the 12th of August was not in the same place on the 30th of July. This was really the planet; and its discovery would thus have been a.s.sured had Challis had time to compare his measurements. In fact, if he had only discussed his observations at once, there cannot be much doubt that the entire glory of the discovery would have been awarded to Adams. He would then have been first, no less in the theoretical calculations than in the optical verification of the planet's existence. It may also be remarked that Challis narrowly missed making the discovery of Neptune in another way.

Le Verrier had pointed out in his paper the possibility of detecting the sought-for globe by its disc. Challis made the attempt, and before the intelligence of the actual discovery at Berlin had reached him he had made an examination of the region indicated by Le Verrier. About 300 stars pa.s.sed through the field of view, and among them he selected one on account of its disc; it afterwards appeared that this was indeed the planet.

If the researches of Le Verrier and of Adams had never been undertaken it is certain that the distant Neptune must have been some time discovered; yet that might have been made in a manner which every true lover of science would now deplore. We hear constantly that new minor planets are observed, yet no one attaches to such achievements a fraction of the consequence belonging to the discovery of Neptune. The danger was, that Neptune should have been merely dropped upon by simple survey work, just as Ura.n.u.s was discovered, or just as the hosts of minor planets are now found. In this case Theoretical Astronomy, the great science founded by Newton, would have been deprived of its most brilliant ill.u.s.tration.

Neptune had, in fact, a very narrow escape on at least one previous occasion of being discovered in a very simple way. This was shown when sufficient observations had been collected to enable the path of the planet to be calculated. It was then possible to trace back the movements of the planet among the stars and thus to inst.i.tute a search in the catalogues of earlier astronomers to see whether they contained any record of Neptune, erroneously noted as a star. Several such instances have been discovered. I shall, however, only refer to one, which possesses a singular interest. It was found that the place of the planet on May 10th, 1795, must have coincided with that of a so-called star recorded on that day in the "Histoire Celeste" of Lalande. By actual examination of the heavens it further appeared that there was no star in the place indicated by Lalande, so the fact that here was really an observation of Neptune was placed quite beyond doubt. When reference was made to the original ma.n.u.scripts of Lalande, a matter of great interest was brought to light. It was there found that he had observed the same star (for so he regarded it) both on May 8th and on May 10th; on each day he had determined its position, and both observations are duly recorded. But when he came to prepare his catalogue and found that the places on the two occasions were different, he discarded the earlier result, and merely printed the latter.

Had Lalande possessed a proper confidence in his own observations, an immortal discovery lay in his grasp; had he manfully said, "I was right on the 10th of May and I was right on the 8th of May; I made no mistake on either occasion, and the object I saw on the 8th must have moved between that and the 10th," then he must without fail have found Neptune. But had he done so, how lamentable would have been the loss to science! The discovery of Neptune would then merely have been an accidental reward to a laborious worker, instead of being one of the most glorious achievements in the loftiest department of human reason.

Besides this brief sketch of the discovery of Neptune, we have but little to tell with regard to this distant planet. If we fail to see in Ura.n.u.s any of those features which make Mars or Venus, Jupiter or Saturn, such attractive telescopic objects, what can we expect to find in Neptune, which is half as far again as Ura.n.u.s? With a good telescope and a suitable magnifying power we can indeed see that Neptune has a disc, but no features on that disc can be identified. We are consequently not in a position to ascertain the period in which Neptune rotates around its axis, though from the general a.n.a.logy of the system we must feel a.s.sured that it really does rotate. More successful have been the attempts to measure the diameter of Neptune, which is found to be about 35,000 miles, or more than four times the diameter of the earth. It would also seem that, like Jupiter and like Saturn, the planet must be enveloped with a vast cloud-laden atmosphere, for the mean density of the globe is only about one-fifth that of the earth. This great globe revolves around the sun at a mean distance of no less than 2,800 millions of miles, which is about thirty times as great as the mean distance from the earth to the sun. The journey, though accomplished at the rate of more than three miles a second, is yet so long that Neptune requires almost 165 years to complete one revolution.

Since its discovery, some fifty years ago, Neptune has moved through about one-third of its path, and even since the date when it was first casually seen by Lalande, in 1795, it has only had time to traverse three-fifths of its mighty circuit.

Neptune, like our earth, is attended by a single satellite; this delicate object was discovered by Mr. La.s.sell with his two-foot reflecting telescope shortly after the planet itself became known. The motion of the satellite of Neptune is nearly circular. Its...o...b..t is inclined at an angle of about 35 to the Ecliptic, and it is specially noteworthy that, like the satellites of Ura.n.u.s, the direction of the motion runs counter to the planetary movements generally. The satellite performs its journey around Neptune in a period of a little less than six days. By observing the motions of this moon we are enabled to determine the ma.s.s of the planet, and thus it appears that the weight of Neptune is about one nineteen-thousandth part of that of the sun.

No planets beyond Neptune have been seen, nor is there at present any good ground for believing in their existence as visual objects. In the chapter on the minor planets I have entered into a discussion of the way in which these objects are discovered. It is by minute and diligent comparison of the heavens with elaborate star charts that these bodies are brought to light. Such enquiries would be equally efficacious in searching for an ultra-Neptunian planet; in fact, we could design no better method to seek for such a body, if it existed, than that which is at this moment in constant practice at many observatories. The labours of those who search for small planets have been abundantly rewarded with discoveries now counted by hundreds. Yet it is a noteworthy fact that all these planets are limited to one region of the solar system. It has sometimes been conjectured that time may disclose perturbations in the orbit of Neptune, and that these perturbations may lead to the discovery of a planet still more remote, even though that planet be so distant and so faint that it eludes all telescopic research. At present, however, such an enquiry can hardly come within the range of practical astronomy.

Its movements have no doubt been studied minutely, but it must describe a larger part of its...o...b..t before it would be feasible to conclude, from the perturbations of its path, the existence of an unknown and still more remote planet.

We have thus seen that the planetary system is bounded on one side by Mercury and on the other by Neptune. The discovery of Mercury was an achievement of prehistoric times. The early astronomer who accomplished that feat, when devoid of instrumental a.s.sistance and unsupported by accurate theoretical knowledge, merits our hearty admiration for his untutored acuteness and penetration. On the other hand, the discovery of the exterior boundary of the planetary system is worthy of special attention from the fact that it was founded solely on profound theoretical learning.

Though we here close our account of the planets and their satellites, we have still two chapters to add before we shall have completed what is to be said with regard to the solar system. A further and notable cla.s.s of bodies, neither planets nor satellites, own allegiance to the sun, and revolve round him in conformity with the laws of universal gravitation.

These bodies are the comets, and their somewhat more humble a.s.sociates, the shooting stars. We find in the study of these objects many matters of interest, which we shall discuss in the ensuing chapters.

CHAPTER XVI.

COMETS.

Comets contrasted with Planets in Nature as well as in their Movements--Coggia's Comet--Periodic Returns--The Law of Gravitation--Parabolic and Elliptic Orbits--Theory in Advance of Observations--Most Cometary Orbits are sensibly Parabolic--The Labours of Halley--The Comet of 1682--Halley's Memorable Prediction--The r.e.t.a.r.dation produced by Disturbance--Successive Returns of Halley's Comet--Encke's Comet--Effect of Perturbations--Orbit of Encke's Comet--Attraction of Mercury and of Jupiter--How the Ident.i.ty of the Comet is secured--How to weigh Mercury--Distance from the Earth to the Sun found by Encke's Comet--The Disturbing Medium--Remarkable Comets--Spectrum of a Comet--Pa.s.sage of a Comet between the Earth and the Stars--Can the Comet be weighed?--Evidence of the Small Ma.s.s of the Comet derived from the Theory of Perturbation--The Tail of the Comet--Its Changes--Views as to its Nature--Carbon present in Comets--Origin of Periodic Comets.

In our previous chapters, which treated of the sun and the moon, the planets and their satellites, we found in all cases that the celestial bodies with which we were concerned were nearly globular in form, and many are undoubtedly of solid substance. All these objects possess a density which, even if in some cases it be much less than that of the earth, is still hundreds of times greater than the density of merely gaseous materials. We now, however, approach the consideration of a cla.s.s of objects of a widely different character. We have no longer to deal with globular objects possessing considerable ma.s.s. Comets are of altogether irregular shape; they are in large part, at all events, formed of materials in the utmost state of tenuity, and their ma.s.ses are so small that no means we possess have enabled them to be measured. Not only are comets different in const.i.tution from planets or from the other more solid bodies of our system, but the movements of such bodies are quite distinct from the orderly return of the planets at their appointed seasons. The comets appear sometimes with almost startling unexpectedness; they rapidly swell in size to an extent that in superst.i.tious ages called forth the utmost terror; presently they disappear, in many cases never again to return. Modern science has, no doubt, removed a great deal of the mystery which once invested the whole subject of comets. Their movements are now to a large extent explained, and some additions have been made to our knowledge of their nature, though we must still confess that what we do know bears but a very small proportion to what remains unknown.

Let me first describe in general terms the nature of a comet, in so far as its structure is disclosed by the aid of a powerful refracting telescope. We represent in Plate XII. two interesting sketches made at Harvard College Observatory of the great comet of 1874, distinguished by the name of its discoverer Coggia.

We see here the head of the comet, containing as its brightest spot what is called the nucleus, and in which the material of the comet seems to be much denser than elsewhere. Surrounding the nucleus we find certain definite layers of luminous material, the coma, or head, from 20,000 to 1,000,000 miles in diameter, from which the tail seems to stream away.

This view may be regarded as that of a typical object of this cla.s.s, but the varieties of structure presented by different comets are almost innumerable. In some cases we find the nucleus absent; in other cases we find the tail to be wanting. The tail is, no doubt, a conspicuous feature in those great comets which receive universal attention; but in the small telescopic objects, of which a few are generally found every year, this feature is usually absent. Not only do comets present great varieties in appearance, but even the aspect of a single object undergoes great change. The comet will sometimes increase enormously in bulk; sometimes it will diminish; sometimes it will have a large tail, or sometimes no tail at all. Measurements of a comet's size are almost futile; they may cease to be true even during the few hours in which a comet is observed in the course of a night. It is, in fact, impossible to identify a comet by any description of its personal appearance. Yet the question as to ident.i.ty of a comet is often of very great consequence. We must provide means by which it can be established, entirely apart from what the comet may look like.

It is now well known that several of these bodies make periodic returns.

After having been invisible for a certain number of years, a comet comes into view, and again retreats into s.p.a.ce to perform another revolution.

The question then arises as to how we are to recognise the body when it does come back? The personal features of its size or brightness, the presence or absence of a tail, large or small, are fleeting characters of no value for such a purpose. Fortunately, however, the law of elliptic motion established by Kepler has suggested the means of defining the ident.i.ty of a comet with absolute precision.

After Newton had made his discovery of the law of gravitation, and succeeded in demonstrating that the elliptic paths of the planets around the sun were necessary consequences of that law, he was naturally tempted to apply the same reasoning to explain the movements of comets.

Here, again, he met with marvellous success, and ill.u.s.trated his theory by completely explaining the movements of the remarkable body which was visible from December, 1680, to March, 1681.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 69.--The Parabolic Path of a Comet.]

There is a certain beautiful curve known to geometricians by the name of the parabola. Its form is shown in the adjoining figure; it is a curved line which bends in towards and around a certain point known as the focus. This would not be the occasion for any allusion to the geometrical properties of this curve; they should be sought in works on mathematics. It will here be only necessary to point to the connection which exists between the parabola and the ellipse. In a former chapter we have explained the construction of the latter curve, and we have shown how it possesses two foci. Let us suppose that a series of ellipses are drawn, each of which has a greater distance between its foci than the preceding one. Imagine the process carried on until at length the distance between the foci became enormously great in comparison with the distance from each focus to the curve, then each end of this long ellipse will practically have the same form as a parabola.

We may thus look on the latter curve represented in Fig. 69 as being one end of an ellipse of which the other end is at an indefinitely great distance. In 1681 Doerfel, a clergyman of Saxony, proved that the great comet then recently observed moved in a parabola, in the focus of which the sun was situated. Newton showed that the law of gravitation would permit a body to move in an ellipse of this very extreme type no less than in one of the more ordinary proportions. An object revolving in a parabolic orbit about the sun at the focus moves in gradually towards the sun, sweeps around the great luminary, and then begins to retreat.

There is a necessary distinction between parabolic and elliptic motion.

In the latter case the body, after its retreat to a certain distance, will turn round and again draw in towards the sun; in fact, it must make periodic circuits of its...o...b..t, as the planets are found to do. But in the case of the true parabola the body can never return; to do so it would have to double the distant focus, and as that is infinitely remote, it could not be reached except in the lapse of infinite time.

The characteristic feature of the movement in a parabola may be thus described. The body draws in gradually towards the focus from an indefinitely remote distance on one side, and after pa.s.sing round the focus gradually recedes to an indefinitely remote distance on the other side, never again to return. When Newton had perceived that parabolic motion of this type could arise from the law of gravitation, it at once occurred to him (independently of Doerfel's discovery, of which he was not aware) that by its means the movements of a comet might be explained. He knew that comets must be attracted by the sun; he saw that the usual course of a comet was to appear suddenly, to sweep around the sun and then retreat, never again to return. Was this really a case of parabolic motion? Fortunately, the materials for the trial of this important suggestion were ready to his hand. He was able to avail himself of the known movements of the comet of 1680, and of observations of several other bodies of the same nature which had been collected by the diligence of astronomers. With his usual sagacity, Newton devised a method by which, from the known facts, the path which the comet pursues could be determined. He found that it was a parabola, and that the velocity of the comet was governed by the law that the straight line from the sun to the comet swept over equal areas in equal times. Here was another confirmation of the law of universal gravitation. In this case, indeed, the theory may be said to have been actually in advance of calculation. Kepler had determined from observation that the paths of the planets were ellipses, and Newton had shown how this fact was a consequence of the law of gravitation. But in the case of the comets their highly erratic orbits had never been reduced to geometrical form until the theory of Newton showed him that they were parabolic, and then he invoked observation to verify the antic.i.p.ations of his theory.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE XII.

COGGIA'S COMET.

(AS SEEN ON JUNE 10TH AND JULY 9TH, 1874.)]

The great majority of comets move in orbits which cannot be sensibly discriminated from parabolae, and any body whose orbit is of this character can only be seen at a single apparition. The theory of gravitation, though it admits the parabola as a possible orbit for a comet, does not a.s.sert that the path must necessarily be of this type.

We have pointed out that this curve is only a very extreme type of ellipse, and it would still be in perfect accordance with the law of gravitation for a comet to pursue a path of any elliptical form, provided that the sun was placed at the focus, and that the comet obeyed the rule of describing equal areas in equal times. If a body move in an elliptic path, then it will return to the sun again, and consequently we shall have periodical visits from the same object.

An interesting field of enquiry was here presented to the astronomer.

Nor was it long before the discovery of a periodic comet was made which ill.u.s.trated, in a striking manner, the soundness of the antic.i.p.ation just expressed. The name of the celebrated astronomer Halley is, perhaps, best known from its a.s.sociation with the great comet whose periodicity was discovered by his calculations. When Halley learned from the Newtonian theory the possibility that a comet might move in an elliptic orbit, he undertook a most laborious investigation; he collected from various records of observed comets all the reliable particulars that could be obtained, and thus he was enabled to ascertain, with tolerable accuracy, the nature of the paths pursued by about twenty-four large comets. One of these was the great body of 1682, which Halley himself observed, and whose path he computed in accordance with the principles of Newton. Halley then proceeded to investigate whether this comet of 1682 could have visited our system at any previous epoch. To answer this question he turned to the list of recorded comets which he had so carefully compiled, and he found that his comet very closely resembled, both in appearance and in orbit, a comet observed in 1607, and also another observed in 1531. Could these three bodies be identical? It was only necessary to suppose that a comet, instead of revolving in a parabolic orbit, really revolved in an extremely elongated ellipse, and that it completed each revolution in a period of about seventy-five or seventy-six years. He submitted this hypothesis to every test that he could devise; he found that the orbits, determined on each of the three occasions, were so nearly identical that it would be contrary to all probability that the coincidence should be accidental.

Accordingly, he decided to submit his theory to the most supreme test known to astronomy. He ventured to make a prediction which posterity would have the opportunity of verifying. If the period of the comet were seventy-five or seventy-six years, as the former observations seemed to show, then Halley estimated that, if unmolested, it ought to return in 1757 or 1758. There were, however, certain sources of disturbance which he pointed out, and which would be quite powerful enough to affect materially the time of return. The comet in its journey pa.s.ses near the path of Jupiter, and experiences great perturbations from that mighty planet. Halley concluded that the expected return might be accordingly delayed till the end of 1758 or the beginning of 1759.

This prediction was a memorable event in the history of astronomy, inasmuch as it was the first attempt to foretell the apparition of one of those mysterious bodies whose visits seemed guided by no fixed law, and which were usually regarded as omens of awful import. Halley felt the importance of his announcement. He knew that his earthly course would have run long before the comet had completed its revolution; and, in language almost touching, the great astronomer writes: "Wherefore if it should return according to our prediction about the year 1758, impartial posterity will not refuse to acknowledge that this was first discovered by an Englishman."

As the time drew near when this great event was expected, it awakened the liveliest interest among astronomers. The distinguished mathematician Clairaut undertook to compute anew, by the aid of improved methods, the effect which would be wrought on the comet by the attraction of the planets. His a.n.a.lysis of the perturbations was sufficient to show that the object would be kept back for 100 days by Saturn, and for 518 days by Jupiter. He therefore gave some additional exactness to the prediction of Halley, and finally concluded that this comet would reach the perihelion, or the point of its path nearest to the sun, about the middle of April, 1759. The sagacious astronomer (who, we must remember, lived long before the discovery of Ura.n.u.s and of Neptune) further adds that as this body retreats so far, it may possibly be subject to influences of which we do not know, or to the disturbance even of some planet too remote to be ever perceived. He, accordingly, qualified his prediction with the statement that, owing to these unknown possibilities, his calculations might be a month wrong one way or the other. Clairaut made this memorable communication to the Academy of Sciences on the 14th of November, 1758. The attention of astronomers was immediately quickened to see whether the visitor, who last appeared seventy-six years previously, was about to return. Night after night the heavens were scanned. On Christmas Day in 1758 the comet was first detected, and it pa.s.sed closest to the sun about midnight on the 12th of March, just a month earlier than the time announced by Clairaut, but still within the limits of error which he had a.s.signed as being possible.

The verification of this prediction was a further confirmation of the theory of gravitation. Since then, Halley's comet has returned once again, in 1835, in circ.u.mstances somewhat similar to those just narrated. Further historical research has also succeeded in identifying Halley's comet with numerous memorable apparitions of comets in former times. It has even been shown that a splendid object, which appeared eleven years before the commencement of the Christian era, was merely Halley's comet in one of its former returns. Among the most celebrated visits of this body was that of 1066, when the apparition attracted universal attention. A picture of the comet on this occasion forms a quaint feature in the Bayeux Tapestry. The next return of Halley's comet is expected about the year 1910.

There are now several comets known which revolve in elliptic paths, and are, accordingly, ent.i.tled to be termed periodic. These objects are chiefly telescopic, and are thus in strong contrast to the splendid comet of Halley. Most of the other periodic comets have periods much shorter than that of Halley. Of these objects, by far the most celebrated is that known as Encke's comet, which merits our careful attention.

The object to which we refer has had a striking career during which it has provided many ill.u.s.trations of the law of gravitation. We are not here concerned with the prosaic routine of a mere planetary orbit. A planet is mainly subordinated to the compelling sway of the sun's gravitation. It is also to some slight extent affected by the attractions which it experiences from the other planets. Mathematicians have long been accustomed to antic.i.p.ate the movements of these globes by actual calculation. They know how the place of the planet is approximately decided by the sun's attraction, and they can discriminate the different adjustments which that place is to receive in consequence of the disturbances produced by the other planets. The capabilities of the planets for producing disturbance are greatly increased when the disturbed body follows the eccentric path of a comet. It is frequently found that the path of such a body comes very near the track of a planet, so that the comet may actually sweep by the planet itself, even if the two bodies do not actually run into collision. On such an occasion the disturbing effect is enormously augmented, and we therefore turn to the comets when we desire to ill.u.s.trate the theory of planetary perturbations by some striking example.

Having decided to choose a comet, the next question is, _What_ comet?

There cannot here be much room for hesitation. Those splendid comets which appear so capriciously may be at once excluded. They are visitors apparently coming for the first time, and retreating without any distinct promise that mankind shall ever see them again. A comet of this kind moves in a parabolic path, sweeps once around the sun, and thence retreats into the s.p.a.ce whence it came. We cannot study the effect of perturbations on a comet completely until it has been watched during successive returns to the sun. Our choice is thus limited to the comparatively small cla.s.s of objects known as periodic comets; and, from a survey of the entire group, we select the most suitable to our purpose. It is the object generally known as Encke's comet, for, though Encke was not the discoverer, yet it is to his calculations that the comet owes its fame. This body is rendered more suitable for our purpose by the researches to which it has recently given rise.

In the year 1818 a comet was discovered by the painstaking astronomer Pons at Ma.r.s.eilles. We are not to imagine that this body produced a splendid spectacle. It was a small telescopic object, not unlike one of those dim nebulae which are scattered in thousands over the heavens. The comet is, however, readily distinguished from a nebula by its movement relatively to the stars, while the nebula remains at rest for centuries.

The position of this comet was ascertained by its discoverer, as well as by other astronomers. Encke found from the observations that the comet returned to the sun once in every three years and a few months. This was a startling announcement. At that time no other comet of short period had been detected, so that this new addition to the solar system awakened the liveliest interest. The question was immediately raised as to whether this comet, which revolved so frequently, might not have been observed during previous returns. The historical records of the apparitions of comets are counted by hundreds, and how among this host are we to select those objects which were identical with the comet discovered by Pons?

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 70.--The Orbit of Encke's Comet.]

We may at once relinquish any hope of identification from drawings of the object, but, fortunately, there is one feature of a comet on which we can seize, and which no fluctuations of the actual structure can modify or disguise. The path in which the body travels through s.p.a.ce is independent of the bodily changes in its structure. The shape of that path and its position depend entirely upon those other bodies of the solar system which are specially involved in the theory of Encke's comet. In Fig. 70 we show the orbits of three of the planets. They have been chosen with such proportions as shall make the innermost represent the orbit of Mercury; the next is the orbit of the earth, while the outermost is the orbit of Jupiter. Besides these three we perceive in the figure a much more elliptical path, representing the orbit of Encke's comet, projected down on the plane of the earth's motion. The sun is situated at the focus of the ellipse. The comet is constrained to revolve in this curve by the attraction of the sun, and it requires a little more than three years to accomplish a complete revolution. It pa.s.ses close to the sun at perihelion, at a point inside the path of Mercury, while at its greatest distance it approaches the path of Jupiter. This elliptic orbit is mainly determined by the attraction of the sun. Whether the comet weighed an ounce, a ton, a thousand tons, or a million tons, whether it was a few miles, or many thousands of miles in diameter, the orbit would still be the same. It is by the shape of this ellipse, by its actual size, and by the position in which it lies, that we identify the comet. It had been observed in 1786, 1795, and 1805, but on these occasions it had not been noticed that the comet's path deviated from the parabola.

Encke's comet is usually so faint that even the most powerful telescope in the world would not show a trace of it. After one of its periodical visits, the body withdraws until it recedes to the outermost part of its path, then it will turn, and again approach the sun. It would seem that it becomes invigorated by the sun's rays, and commences to dilate under their genial influence. While moving in this part of its path the comet lessens its distance from the earth. It daily increases in splendour, until at length, partly by the intrinsic increase in brightness and partly by the decrease in distance from the earth, it comes within the range of our telescopes. We can generally antic.i.p.ate when this will occur, and we can tell to what point of the heavens the telescope is to be pointed so as to discern the comet at its next return to perihelion.

The comet cannot elude the grasp of the mathematician. He can tell when and where the comet is to be found, but no one can say what it will be like.

Were all the other bodies of the system removed, then the path of Encke's comet must be for ever performed in the same ellipse and with absolute regularity. The chief interest for our present purpose lies not in the regularity of its path, but in the _irregularities_ introduced into that path by the presence of the other bodies of the solar system.

Let us, for instance, follow the progress of the comet through its perihelion pa.s.sage, in which the track lies near that of the planet Mercury. It will usually happen that Mercury is situated in a distant part of its path at the moment the comet is pa.s.sing, and the influence of the planet will then be comparatively small. It may, however, sometimes happen that the planet and the comet come close together. One of the most interesting instances of a close approach to Mercury took place on the 22nd November, 1848. On that day the comet and the planet were only separated by an interval of about one-thirtieth of the earth's distance from the sun, _i.e._ about 3,000,000 miles. On several other occasions the distance between Encke's comet and Mercury has been less than 10,000,000 miles--an amount of trifling import in comparison with the dimensions of our system. Approaches so close as this are fraught with serious consequences to the movements of the comet. Mercury, though a small body, is still sufficiently ma.s.sive. It always attracts the comet, but the efficacy of that attraction is enormously enhanced when the comet in its wanderings comes near the planet. The effect of this attraction is to force the comet to swerve from its path, and to impress certain changes upon its velocity. As the comet recedes, the disturbing influence of Mercury rapidly abates, and ere long becomes insensible.