Astronomy with an Opera-glass / A Popular Introduction to the Study of the Starry Heavens with the Simplest of Optical Instruments

by Garrett Putman Serviss

The Planets.—In attempting to view the planets with an opera-glass, too much must not be expected; and yet interesting views can sometimes be obtained. The features of their surfaces, of course, can not be detected even with a powerful field-glass, but the difference between the appearance of a large planet and that of the stars will at once strike the observer. Mercury, which, on account of its nearness to the sun and its rapid changes of place, comparatively few persons ever see, can perhaps hardly be called an interesting object for an opera-glass, and yet the beauty of the planet is greatly increased when viewed with such aid. Mercury is brilliant enough to be readily distinguishable, even while the twilight is still pretty bright; and I have had most charming views of the shy planet, glittering like a globule of shining metal through the fading curtain of a winter sunset.

Venus is, under favorable circumstances, a very interesting planet for opera-glass observations. The crescent phase can be seen with a powerful glass near inferior conjunction, and, even when the form of the planet can not be discerned, its exceeding brilliancy makes it an attractive object. The flood of light which Venus pours forth, and which is so dazzling that it baffles the best telescopes, to a greater or less extent, in any effort to descry the features of that resplendent disk, is evidently reflected from a cloud-burdened atmosphere. While these clouds render the planet surprisingly lustrous to our eyes, they must, of course, keep the globe beneath them most of the time in shadow. It is a source of keen regret that the surface of Venus can not be seen as clearly as that of Mars, for, a priori, there is rather more reason to regard Venus as possibly an inhabited world than any other of the Earth's sister planets, not excepting Mars. Still, even if we could plainly make out the presence of oceans and continents on Venus, that fact would hardly be any better indication of the possibility of life there than is furnished by the phenomena of its atmosphere. It is an interesting reflection that in admiring the brilliancy of this splendid planet the light that produces so striking an effect upon our eyes has but a few minutes before traversed the atmosphere of a distant world, which, like our own air, may furnish the breath of life to millions of intelligent creatures, and vibrate with the music of tongues speaking languages as expressive as those of the earth.

Mars, being both more distant and smaller than Venus, does not present so splendid a scene, and yet when it is at or near opposition it is a superb object even for an opera-glass, its deep reddish-yellow color presenting a fine contrast to that of most of the stars. It can often be seen in conjunction with, or near to, the moon and stars, and the beauty of these phenomena is in some cases greatly enhanced by the use of a glass. To find Mars (and the same remark applies to the other planets), take its right ascension and declination for the required date from the Nautical Almanac, and then mark its place upon a planisphere or any good star-map. This planet is at the present time (1888) slowly drawing nearer to the earth at each opposition, and in 1892 it will be closer to us than at any time since 1877, when its two minute satellites were discovered. It will consequently grow brighter every year until then. How splendidly it shines when at its nearest approach to the earth may be inferred from the fact that in 1719 it was so brilliant as actually to cause a panic. This was doubtless owing to its peculiar redness. I well remember the almost startling appearance which the planet presented in the autumn of 1877. Mars is especially interesting because of the apparently growing belief that it may be an inhabited world, and because of certain curious markings on its surface that can only be seen under favorable conditions. The recent completion of the great Lick telescope and other large glasses, and the approach of the planet to a favorable opposition, give reason to hope that within the next few years a great deal of light will be cast upon some of the enigmatical features of Mars's surface.

Jupiter and his Moons. (Seen with a Field-glass; seven diameters.)

Jupiter, although much more distant than Mars, is ordinarily a far more conspicuous phenomenon in the sky on account of his vast bulk. His interest to observers with an opera-glass depends mainly upon his four moons, which, as they circle about him, present a miniature of the solar system. With a strong opera-glass one or two of Jupiter's little family of moons may occasionally be caught sight of as excessively minute dots of light half-hidden in the glare of the planet. If you succeed under favorable circumstances in seeing one of these moons with your glass, you will be all the more astonished to learn that there are several apparently well-authenticated instances of one of the moons of Jupiter having been seen with the naked eye.

With a field-glass, however, you will have no difficulty in seeing all of the moons when they are properly situated. If you miss one or more of them, you may know that it is either between you and the planet, or behind the planet, or buried in the planet's shadow, or else so close to the planet as to be concealed by its radiance.

It will be best for the observer to take out of the Nautical Almanac the "configurations of Jupiter's satellites" for the evenings on which he intends to make his observations, recollecting that the position of the whole system, as there given, is reversed, or presented as seen with an astronomical telescope, which inverts objects looked at, as an opera-glass does not. In order to bring the satellites into the positions in which he will see them, our observer has only to turn the page in the Nautical Almanac showing their configurations upside down.

Of course, since the motions of the satellites, particularly of the inner ones, are very rapid, their positions are continually changing, and their configurations are different every night. If the observer has any doubt about his identification of them, or thinks they may be little stars, he has only to carefully note their position and then look at them again the next evening. He may even notice their motion in the course of a single evening, if he begins early and follows them for three or four hours. It is impossible to describe the peculiar attractions of the scene presented by the great planet and his four little moons on a serene evening to an observer armed with a powerful glass. Probably much of the impressiveness of the spectacle is owing to the knowledge that those little points of light, shining now in a row and now in a cluster, are actually, at every instant, under the government of their giant neighbor and master, and that as we look upon them, obediently making their circuits about him, never venturing beyond a certain distance away, we behold a type of that gravitational mastery to which our own little planet is subject as it revolves around its still greater ruler, the sun, to whose control even Jupiter in his turn must submit.

The beautiful planet Saturn requires for the observation of its rings magnifying powers far beyond those of the instruments with which our readers are supposed to be armed. It would be well, however, for the observer to trace its slow motion among the stars with the aid of the Nautical Almanac, and he should be able with a good field-glass to see, under favorable circumstances, the largest of its eight moons, Titan. This is equal in brilliancy to an 8.5 magnitude star. Its position with respect to Saturn on any given date can be learned from the Ephemeris.