The Ways of the Planets

by Martha Evans Martin

I

ON MAKING ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE PLANETS

It is sought in the following pages to give a simple account of what may now be said to be known of the character of the planets, and to describe with as little technicality as possible their movements and aspects and relations. An endeavor is made to impart concerning each one of them not, surely, profound learning, but just a good, every-day, practical notion, so that the mere name will call up a definite object, with its own attributes, appearance, and behavior, entirely distinct from any other planet or from any other object in the skies.

An endeavor is made also to so simplify and direct the observation that any one, after a little practice, will know almost without hesitation, on seeing a planet in the sky, that it is a planet, and not a fixed star, and exactly what planet it is. The situation and aspect of it will then as quickly and clearly pronounce it to be the individual planet that it is as the sight of a person of one’s acquaintance proclaims him to be that person, and no other. The very name of Venus, for example, and still more the sight of Venus, will call up a conception of Venus, with the particular atmosphere and light and movements and wanderings which make her what she is. On looking at her the observer will at once know why she occupies the special position in the sky in which he sees her, why she is not so bright as she was when she was last in view, or is so much brighter than she was then, about how long she is likely to remain where she is, and when she goes what will become of her.

For far off and truly mysterious as the planets are, it still is with them as with most other objects in nature: a very little knowledge of their aspects and their ways begets a sense about them that makes the most casual observation of them interesting and, as far as it goes, intelligent. The slightest glance at them betrays some shape, or position, or light, or other quality, which at once makes recognition of them unmistakable. They disclose themselves oftentimes, one can scarcely say how, just as persons with whom we are intimate do by some half-caught outline, motion, or posture; or just as the trees do to an observer who knows, for example, an oak-tree from an elm, whether they are covered with their own peculiar verdure, or whether they stand with bare branches stretched out and colored in their own peculiar way.

This instant recognition of the planets is, of course, not to be had by simply reading about them. Such practical familiarity with them is attained only by seeking them out over and over again and looking at them with attention, with eagerness, and with all one’s faculty. With them, as with other natural objects, it requires observation truly to know them. But then, observation, when one gets a little started in it, is a great deal more interesting, a great deal more absorbing, than any reading about them can ever be. It is also a very easy thing to begin, for, after all, it is not much more than looking and then looking again. In doing this one can hardly tell just when an object ceases to be strange, and then becomes familiar, and finally is so much a part of every-day knowledge that one knows it at a glance. But this is what happens in the case of any natural object when we observe it often and with true attention.

In the case of the planets, if one is interested at all, every stage in the cultivation of such an acquaintance is full of pleasure. Even to one who regards them only as a part of the general aspect of the sky, they are the most beautiful objects in it and always the first to attract special attention. Nine times out of ten, when any one asks what a certain star is, it proves to be one of the planets. When one of them is visible a person can hardly glance at the heavens without noticing it, even if he does not stop to think about it. But if he does stop to think about it and notices that it is far larger than any star he has noted before, that it hangs low in the western sky early in the evening, and shines with a brilliant silvery light, and if he then learns that it is Venus, will he not always have a pleasant thrill of recognition when he again sees such a star in such a position and knows it as Venus, among the planets as surpassing in beauty as the goddess of that name was among the immortals? Or, if in the east, at the same time in the evening, he sees a brilliant, solid-looking, unblinking star shining with a white light, but pinkish white, not silvery, and finds it to be Jupiter, will not such a star in such a situation be to him ever after a pleasant acquaintance that he can call by name? Not that Jupiter and Venus are always in these positions, or shine in just this way at all times. These are their places and aspects at certain times, frequently recurring, and at such times always unmistakably distinguish them.

It is, then, merely the matter of a little more and yet a little more observation, in order to come to know any one of the visible planets in all its varying aspects and situations. Of course, at the start some guidance is necessary, but only a little; and that little, if it is of the right sort, should not be irksome. To provide such guidance is one of the aims of this book. That is, indeed, its main aim.

But in addition to what, as a help in observation, it may find to say regarding the appearance and movements of the planets, it will endeavor to give also ample information concerning their character and constitution.

It is hoped that this may be done without weighting the narrative with figures, though some of the peculiarities of the planets must be expressed by means of numbers. Certainly no mathematical problems will be presented. But it will be profitable to remember that every one of the intimate things we know about the planets has come to us through the long and laborious mathematical work of astronomers. To them we owe the extinguishable debt that we owe to all special workers who put us in possession of the facts that interpret life to us.