[THE PLANET OF 1898]
The discovery of a new and important planet usually receives more immediate popular attention and applause than any other astronomical event. Philosophers are fond of referring to our solar system as a mere atom among the countless universes that seem to be suspended within the profound depths of space. They are wont to point out that this solar system, small and insignificant as a whole in comparison with many of the stellar worlds, is, nevertheless, made up of a large number of constituent planets; and these in turn are often accompanied with still smaller satellites, or moons. Thus does Nature provide worlds within worlds, and it is not surprising that public attention should be at once attracted by any new member of our sun's own special family of planets. The ancients were acquainted with only five of the bodies now counted as planets, viz.: Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. The dates of their discovery are lost in antiquity. To these Uranus was added in 1781 by a brilliant effort of the elder Herschel. We are told that intense popular excitement followed the announcement of Herschel's first observation: he was knighted and otherwise honored by the English King, and was enabled to lay a secure foundation for the future distinguished astronomical reputation of his family.
Herschel's discovery quickened the restless activity of astronomers. Persistent efforts were made to sift the heavens more and more closely, with the strengthened hope of adding still further to our planetary knowledge. An association of twenty-four enthusiastic German astronomers was formed for the express purpose of hunting planets. But it fell to the lot of an Italian, Piazzi, of Palermo, to find the first of that series of small bodies now known as the asteroids or minor planets. He made the discovery at the very beginning of our century, January 1, 1801.
But news travelled slowly in those days, and it was not until nearly April that the German observers heard from Piazzi. In the meantime, he had himself been prevented by illness from continuing his observations. Unfortunately, the planet had by this time moved so near the sun, on account of its own motions and those of the earth, that it could no longer be observed. The bright light of the sun made observations of the new body impossible; and it was feared that, owing to lack of knowledge of the planet's orbit, astronomers would be unable to trace it. So there seemed, indeed, to be danger of an almost irreparable loss to science. But in scientific, as in other human emergencies, someone always appears at the proper moment. A very young mathematician at Göttingen, named Gauss, attacked the problem, and was able to devise a method of predicting the future course of the planet on the sky, using only the few observations made by Piazzi himself. Up to that time no one had attempted to compute a planetary orbit, unless he had at his disposal a series of observations extending throughout the whole period of the planet's revolution around the sun. But the Piazzi planet offered a new problem in astronomy. It had become imperatively necessary to obtain an orbit from a few observations made at nearly the same date. Gauss's work was signally triumphant, for the planet was actually found in the position predicted by him, as soon as a change in the relative places of the planet and earth permitted suitable observations to be made.
But after all, Piazzi's planet belongs to a class of quite small bodies, and is by no means as interesting as Herschel's discovery, Uranus. Yet even this must be relegated to second rank among planetary discoveries. On September 23, 1846, the telescope of the Berlin Observatory was directed to a certain point on the sky for a very special reason. Galle, the astronomer of Berlin, had received a letter from Leverrier, of Paris, telling him that if he would look in a certain direction he would detect a new and large planet.
Leverrier's information was based upon a mathematical calculation. Seated in his study, with no instruments but pen and paper, he had slowly figured out the history of a world as yet unseen. Tiny discrepancies existed in the observed motions of Herschel's planet Uranus. No man had explained their cause. To Leverrier's acute understanding they slowly shaped themselves into the possible effects of attraction emanating from some unknown planet exterior to Uranus. Was it conceivable that these slight tremulous imperfections in the motion of a planet could be explained in this way? Leverrier was able to say confidently, "Yes." But we may rest assured that Galle had but small hopes that upon his eye first, of all the myriad eyes of men, would fall a ray of the new planet's light. Careful and methodical, he would neglect no chance of advancing his beloved science. He would look.
Only one who has himself often seen the morning's sunrise put an end to a night's observation of the stars can hope to appreciate what Galle's feelings must have been when he saw the planet. To his trained eye it was certainly recognizable at once. And then the good news was sent on to Paris. We can imagine Leverrier, the cool calculator, saying to himself: "Of course he found it. It was a mathematical certainty." Nevertheless, his satisfaction must have been of the keenest. No triumphs give a pleasure higher than those of the intellect. Let no one imagine that men who make researches in the domain of pure science are under-paid. They find their reward in pleasure that is beyond any price.
The Leverrier planet was found to be the last of the so-called major planets, so far as we can say in the present state of science. It received the name Neptune. Observers have found no other member of the solar system comparable in size with such bodies as Uranus and Neptune. More than one eager mathematician has tried to repeat Leverrier's achievement, but the supposed planet was not found. It has been said that figures never lie; yet such is the case only when the computations are correctly made. People are prone to give to the work of careless or incompetent mathematicians the same degree of credence that is really due only to masters of the craft. It requires the test of time to affix to any man's work the stamp of true genius.