CHAPTER XXXIII
THE CANALS OF MARS

Then there are the so-called canals of Mars, about which so much is written and relatively little known. Faint markings which resemble them in character were first drawn in 1840 and later in 1864, but Schiaparelli, the famous Italian astronomer, is probably their original discoverer, when Mars was at its least distance from the earth in 1877. He made the first accurate detailed map of Mars at this time, and most of the important or more conspicuous canals (canali, he called them in Italian, that is, channels merely, without any reference whatever to their being watercourses) were accurately charted by him.

At all the subsequent close approaches of Mars, the canals have been critically studied by a wide range of astronomical observers, and their conclusions as to the nature and visibility of the canals have been equally wide and varied. The most favorable oppositions have occurred in 1892 and 1894, also in 1907 and 1909. On these occasions a close minimum distance of Mars was reached, that is, about 35 millions of miles; but in 1924 the planet makes the closest approach in a period of nearly a thousand years. Its distance will not much exceed 34 millions of miles.

But although this is a minimum distance for Mars, it must not be forgotten that it is a really vast distance, absolutely speaking; it is something like 150 times greater than the distance of the moon. With no telescopic power at our command could we possibly see anything on the moon of the size of the largest buildings or other works of human intelligence; so that we seem forever barred from detecting anything of the sort on Mars.

Nevertheless, the closest scrutiny of the ruddy planet by observers of great enthusiasm and intelligence, coupled with imagination and persistence, have built up a system of canals on Mars, covering the surface of the planet like spider webs over a printed page, crossing each other at intersecting spots known as "lakes," and embodying a wealth of detail which challenges criticism and explanation.

To see the canals at all requires a favorable presentation of Mars, a steady atmosphere and a perfect telescope, with a trained eye behind it. Not even then are they sure to be visible. The training of the eye has no doubt much to do with it. So photography has been called in, and very excellent pictures of Mars have already been taken, some nearly half as large as a dime, showing plainly the lights and shades of the grander divisions of the Martian surface, but only in a few instances revealing the actual canals more unmistakably than they are seen at the eyepiece.

The appearance and degree of visibility of the canals are variable: possibly clouds temporarily obscure them. But there is a certain capriciousness about their visibility that is little understood. In consequence of the changing physical aspects, as to season, on Mars and his orbital position with reference to the earth, some of the canals remain for a long time invisible, adding to the intricacy of the puzzle.

For the most part the canals are straight in their course and do not swerve much from a great circle on the planet. But their lengths are very different, some as short as 250 miles, some as long as 4,000 miles; and they often join one another like spokes in the hub of a wheel, though at various angles. As depicted by Lowell and his corps of observers at Flagstaff, Arizona, the canal system is a truly marvelous network of fine darkish stripes. Their color is represented as a bluish green.

Each marking maintains its own breadth throughout its entire length, but the breadth of all the canals is by no means the same: the narrowest are perhaps fifteen to twenty miles wide, and the broadest probably ten times that. At least that must be the breadth of the Nilosyrtis, which is generally regarded as the most conspicuous of all the canals. The Lowell Observatory has outstripped all others in the number of canals seen and charted, now about 500.

What may be the true significance of this remarkable system of markings it is impossible to conclude at present. Schiaparelli from his long and critical study of them, their changes of width and color, was led to think that they may be a veritable hydrographic system for distributing the liquid from the melting polar snows. In this case it would be difficult to escape the conviction that the canals have, at least in part, been designed and executed with a definite end in view.