Flowers of the Sky

by Richard A. Proctor

IX.
THE PLANET MARS.

Every one who notices the stars at all,—and who that thinks and can see does not?—must have observed during the autumn of 1877 two bright stars in the southern heavens. One of these shone with a lustre which but for its ruddy hue would have caused the star to be taken for the planet Jupiter; the other shone with a somewhat yellowish light, and was much fainter, though surpassing most of the fixed stars in brightness. The former was the planet Mars, the latter the ringed planet Saturn. The motions of these two stars with respect to each other and to the neighbouring stars were sufficiently conspicuous to attract attention. During October these stars attracted still more attention, because they drew nearer and nearer together, to all appearance, until on November 4th they were at their nearest, when the distance separating them was about one-third the apparent diameter of the moon, so that in a telescope showing at one view the whole disc of the moon, Mars and Saturn on the night of November 4th appeared like a splendid double star, the primary a fine red orb, the companion a smaller body, but attended by a splendid ring system and companion moons.

It was strange when we looked at these two stars, the yellow one apparently much smaller than the brighter, and the pair seemingly close together, to consider how thoroughly the reality differed from these appearances. The fainter and seemingly the smaller of the two stars was in reality some four thousand times larger than the brighter, and had, among eight orbs attending upon it, one nearly as large as the ruddy planet which as actually seen so completely outshone Saturn himself. Again, instead of being near each other, those two bodies were in reality separated by a distance exceeding some sixteen times that which separated us from the nearer of the two.

I propose now to consider some of the more interesting characteristics of these two planets, presenting specially those features which mark Saturn as the representative of one family of bodies, and Mars as the representative of another and an entirely different family.

Fig. 16.—The paths of Mars and Saturn during the autumn of 1877.

It will be well to consider Mars first; for although, as will presently be seen, Saturn came earlier of the two to the portion of his path where he was most favourably seen, there was nothing specially remarkable about the approach of Saturn on that occasion, whereas Mars in the year 1877 made a nearer approach to the earth than he has for thirty-two years past, or will for some forty-seven years to come.

In the first place, let us note the apparent paths on which the two planets have been and are now travelling.

[Fig. 16] presents that part of the zodiac along which lay the apparent paths of Mars and Saturn in 1877. The stars marked with Greek letters belong to the constellation Aquarius, or the Water-Bearer (his jar is formed by the stars in the upper right-hand corner of the picture),—with a single exception, the star marked κ, which, with those close to it not lettered, belongs to the constellation Pisces, or the Fishes. Thus the loops traversed by the two planets in 1877 both fell in the constellation of the Water-Bearer; but, as will be seen from the symbols on the ecliptic, these loops lie in the zodiacal sign Pisces, which begins at κ and ends at γ. The signs have long since passed away, in fact, from the constellations to which they originally belonged.