The astronomer has to take his base-line for determining the sun’s distance, upon our earth, which is quite a tiny speck in comparison with the vast distance which separates us from the sun. It had been found difficult enough to determine the moon’s distance with such a short base-line to work from. But the moon is only about a quarter of a million of miles from us, while the sun is more than ninety millions of miles off. Thus the problem was made several hundred times more difficult—or, to speak more correctly, it was rendered simply insoluble unless the astronomer could devise some mode of observing which should vastly enhance the power of his instruments.
For let us consider an illustrative case. Suppose there was a steeple five miles off, and we had a base-line only two feet long. That would correspond as nearly as possible to the case the astronomer has to deal with. Now, what change of direction could be observed in the steeple by merely shifting the eye along a line of two feet? There is a ready way of answering. Invert the matter. Consider what a line of two feet long would look like if viewed from a distance of five miles. Would its length be appreciable, to say nothing of its being measurable? Yet it is just such a problem as the measurement of that line which the astronomer would have to solve.
But even this is not all. In our illustration only one observer is concerned, and he would be able to use one set of instruments. Suppose, however, that from one end of the two-feet line an observer using one set of instruments took the bearings of the steeple; and that, half a year after, another observer brought another set of instruments and took the bearing of the steeple from the other end of the two-feet line, is it not obvious how enormously the uncertainty of the result would be increased by such an arrangement as this? One observer would have his own peculiar powers of observation, his own peculiar weaknesses: the other would have different peculiarities. One set of instruments would be characterised by its own faults or merits, so would the other. One series of observations would be made in summer, with all the disturbing effects due to heat; the other would be made in winter, with all the disturbing effects due to cold.
The observation of the sun is characterised by all these difficulties. Limited to the base-lines he can measure on earth, the astronomer must set one observer in one hemisphere, another in the other. Each observer must have his own set of instruments; and every observation which one has made in summer will have to be compared with an observation which the other has made in winter.
Thus we can understand that astronomers should have failed totally when they attempted to determine the sun’s distance without aid from the other celestial bodies.
It may seem at first sight as though nothing the other celestial bodies could tell the astronomer would be of the least use to him, since these bodies are for the most part farther off than the sun, and even those which, approach nearest to us are still far beyond the limits of distance within which the simple plan followed by surveyors could be of any service. And besides, it might be supposed that information about the distance of one celestial body could be of no particular service towards the determination of the distance of another.
But two things aid the astronomer at this point. First of all, he has discovered the law which associates together the distances of all the planets from the sun; so that if he can determine the distance of any one planet, he learns immediately the distances of all. Secondly, the planets in their motion travel occasionally into such positions that they become mighty indices, tracing out on a natural dial-plate the significant lesson from which the astronomer hopes to learn so much. To take an instance from the motions of another planet than the one we are dealing with. Mars comes sometimes so near the earth that the distance separating us from him is little more than one-third of that which separates us from the sun. Suppose that, at such a time, he is seen quite close to a fixed star. That star gives the astronomer powerful aid in determining the planet’s distance. For, to observers in some parts of the earth, the planet will seem nearer to the star than he will to observers elsewhere. A careful comparison of the effects thus exhibited will give significant evidence respecting the distance of Mars. And we see that the star has served as a fixed mark upon the vast natural dial of the heavens, just as the division-marks on a clock-face serve to indicate the position of the hands.
Now we can at once see why Venus holds so important a position in this sort of inquiry. Venus is our nearest neighbour among the planets. She comes several millions of miles nearer to us than Mars, our next neighbour on the other side. That is the primary reason of her being so much considered by astronomers. But there is another of equal importance. Venus travels nearer than our earth to the sun. And thus there are occasions when she gets directly between the earth and the sun. At those times she is seen upon his face, and his face serves as a dial-plate by which to measure her movements. When an observer at one part of the earth sees her on one part of the sun’s face, another observer at some other part of the earth will see her on another, and the difference of position, if accurately measured, would at once indicate the sun’s distance. As a matter of fact, other modes of reading off the indications of the great dial-plate have to be adopted. Before proceeding to consider those modes, however, we must deal with one or two facts about Venus’s movements which largely affect the question at issue.
Let us first see what we gain by considering the distance of Venus rather than that of the sun.
At the time of a transit Venus is of course on a line between the earth and the sun, and she is at somewhat less than a third of the sun’s distance from us. Thus whatever effect an observer’s change of place would produce upon the sun would be more than trebled in the case of Venus. But it must not be forgotten that we are to judge the motions of Venus by means of the dial-plate formed by the solar disc, and that dial-plate is itself shifted as the observer shifts his place. Venus is shifted three times as much, it is true; but it is only the balance of change that our astronomer can recognise. That balance is, of course, rather more than twice as great as the sun’s change of place.