The satellite-theory has derived unlooked-for support from photometric inquiries. Professor Seeliger pointed out in 1888[1104] that the unvarying brilliancy of the outer rings under all angles of illumination, from 0° to 30°, can be explained from no other point of view. Nor does the constitution of the obscure inner ring offer any difficulty. For it is doubtless formed of similar small bodies to those aggregated in the lucid members of the system, only much more thinly strewn, and reflecting, consequently, much less light. It is not, indeed, at first easy to see why these sparser flights should show as a dense dark shading on the body of Saturn. Yet this is invariably the case. The objection has been urged by Professor Hastings of Baltimore. The brightest parts of these appendages, he remarked,[1105] are more lustrous than the globe they encircle; but if the inner ring consists of identical materials, possessing presumably an equal reflective capacity, the mere fact of their scanty distribution would not cause them to show as dark against the same globe. Professor Seeliger, however, replied[1106] that the darkening is due to the never-ending swarms of their separate shadows transiting the planet's disc. Sunlight is not, indeed, wholly excluded. Many rays come and go between the open ranks of the meteorites. For the dusky ring is transparent. The planet it encloses shows through it, as if veiled with a strip of crape. A beautiful illustration of its quality in this respect was derived by Professor Barnard from an eclipse of Japetus, November 1, 1889.[1107] The eighth moon remained steadily visible during its passage through the shadow of the inner ring, but with a progressive loss of lustre in approaching its bright neighbour. There was no breach of continuity. The satellite met no gap, corresponding to that between the dusky ring and the body of Saturn, through which it could shine with undiminished light, but was slowly lost sight of as it plunged into deeper and deeper gloom. The important facts were thus established, that the brilliant and obscure rings merge into each other, and that the latter thins out towards the Saturnian globe.
The meteoric constitution of these appendages was beautifully demonstrated in 1895 by Professor Keeler,[1108] then director of the Alleghany Observatory, Pittsburgh. From spectrographs taken with the slit adjusted to coincidence with the equatorial plane of the system, he determined the comparative radial velocities of its different parts. And these supply a crucial test of Clerk Maxwell's theory. For if the rings were solid, the swiftest rates of rotation should be at their outer edges, corresponding to wider circles described in the same period; while, if they are pulverulent, the inverse relation must hold good. This proved to be actually the case. The motion slowed off outward, in agreement with the diminishing speed of particles travelling freely, each in its own orbit. Keeler's result was promptly confirmed by Campbell,[1109] as well as by Deslandres and Bélopolsky.
A question of singular interest, and one which we cannot refrain from putting to ourselves, is—whether we see in the rings of Saturn a finished structure, destined to play a permanent part in the economy of the system; or whether they represent merely a stage in the process of development out of the chaotic state in which it is impossible to doubt that the materials of all planets were originally merged. M. Otto Struve attempted to give a definite answer to this important query.
A study of early and later records of observations disclosed to him, in 1851, an apparent progressive approach of the inner edge of the bright ring to the planet. The rate of approach he estimated at about fifty-seven English miles a year, or 11,000 miles during the 194 years elapsed since the time of Huygens.[1110] Were it to continue, a collapse of the system must be far advanced within three centuries. But was the change real or illusory—a plausible, but deceptive inference from insecure data? M. Struve resolved to put it to the test. A set of elaborately careful micrometrical measures of the dimensions of Saturn's rings, executed by himself at Pulkowa in the autumn of 1851, was provided as a standard of future comparison; and he was enabled to renew them, under closely similar circumstances, in 1882.[1111] But the expected diminution of the space between Saturn's globe and his rings had not taken place. A slight extension in the width of the system, both outward and inward, was indeed, hinted at; and it is worth notice that just such a separation of the rings was indicated by Clerk Maxwell's theory, so that there is an à priori likelihood of its being in progress. Yet Hall's measures in 1884-87[1112] failed to supply evidence of alteration with time; and Barnard's, executed at Lick in 1894-95,[1113] showed no sensible divergence from them. Hence, much weight cannot be laid upon Huygens's drawings and descriptions, which had been held to prove conclusively a partial filling up, since 1657, of the interval between the ring and the planet.[1114]
The rings of Saturn replace, in Professor G. H. Darwin's view,[1115] an abortive satellite, scattered by tidal action into annular form. For they lie closer to the planet than is consistent with the integrity of a revolving body of reasonable bulk. The limit of possible existence for such a mass was fixed by Roche of Montpellier, in 1848,[1116] at 2·44 mean radii of its primary; while the outer edge of the ring-system is distant 2·38 radii of Saturn from his centre. The virtual discovery of its pulverulent condition dates, then, according to Professor Darwin, from 1848. He conjectures that the appendage will eventually disappear, partly through the dispersal of its constituent particles inward, and their subsidence upon the planet's surface, partly by their dispersal outward, to a region beyond "Roche's limit," where coalescence might proceed unhindered by the strain of unequal attractions. One modest satellite, revolving inside Mimas, would then be all that was left of the singular appurtenances we now contemplate with admiration.
There seems reason to admit that Kirkwood's law of commensurability has had some effect in bringing about the present distribution of the matter composing them. Here the influential bodies are Saturn's moons, while the divisions and boundaries of the rings represent the spaces where their disturbing action conspires to eliminate revolving particles. Kirkwood, in fact, showed, in 1867,[1117] that a body circulating in the chasm between the bright rings known as "Cassini's division," would have a period nearly commensurable with those of four out of the eight moons; and Meyer of Geneva subsequently calculated all such combinations, with the result of bringing out coincidences between regions of maximum perturbation and the limiting and dividing lines of the system.[1118] This is in itself a strong confirmation of the view that the rings are made up of independently revolving small bodies.
On December 7, 1876, Professor Asaph Hall discovered at Washington a bright equatorial spot on Saturn, which he followed and measured through above sixty rotations, each performed in ten hours fourteen minutes twenty-four seconds.[1119] This, he was careful to add, represented the period, not necessarily of the planet, but only of the individual spot. The only previous determination of Saturn's axial movement (setting aside some insecure estimates by Schröter) was Herschel's in 1794, giving a period of ten hours sixteen minutes. The substantial accuracy of Hall's result was verified by Mr. Denning in 1891.[1120] In May and June of that year, ten vague bright markings near the equator were watched by Mr. Stanley Williams, who derived from them a rotation period only two seconds shorter than that determined at Washington. Nevertheless, similarly placed spots gave in 1892 and 1893 notably quicker rates;[1121] so that the task of timing the general drift of the Saturnian surface by the displacements of such objects is hampered, to an indefinite extent, by their individual proper motions.
Saturn's outermost satellite, Japetus, is markedly variable—so variable that it sends us, when brightest, just 4-1/2 times as much light as when faintest. Moreover, its fluctuations depend upon its orbital position in such a way as to make it a conspicuous telescopic object when west, a scarcely discernible one when east of the planet. Herschel's inference[1122] of a partially obscured globe turning always the same face towards its primary seems the only admissible one, and is confirmed by Pickering's measurements of the varying intensity of its light. He remarked further that the dusky and brilliant hemispheres must be so posited as to divide the disc, viewed from Saturn, into nearly equal parts; so that this Saturnian moon, even when "full," appears very imperfectly illuminated over one-half of its surface.[1123]
Zöllner estimated the albedo of Saturn at 0·51, Müller at 0·88, a value impossibly high, considering that the spectrum includes no vestige of original emissions. Closely similar to that of Jupiter, it shows the distinctive dark line in the red (wave-length 618), which we may call the "red-star line"; and Janssen, from the summit of Etna in 1867[1124] found traces in it of aqueous absorption. The light from the ring appears to be pure reflected sunshine unmodified by original atmospheric action.[1125]
Uranus, when favourably situated, can easily be seen with the naked eye as a star between the fifth and sixth magnitudes. There is indeed, some reason to suppose that he had been detected as a wandering orb by savage "watchers of the skies" in the Pacific long before he swam into Herschel's ken. Nevertheless, inquiries into his physical habitudes are still in an early stage. They are exceedingly difficult of execution, even with the best and largest modern telescopes; and their results remain clouded with uncertainty.