The Story of the Heavens

by Robert S. Ball

Le Verrier was steadily maturing his no less elaborate investigations in the same direction. He felt confident of the existence of the planet, and he went so far as to predict not only the situation of the globe but even its actual appearance. He thought the planet would be large enough (though still of course only a telescopic object) to be distinguished from the stars by the possession of a disc. These definite predictions strengthened the belief that we were on the verge of another great discovery in the solar system, so much so that when Sir John Herschel addressed the British Association on the 10th of September, 1846, he uttered the following words:—"The past year has given to us the new planet Astræa—it has done more, it has given us the probable prospect of another. We see it as Columbus saw America from the shores of Spain. Its movements have been felt trembling along the far-reaching line of our analysis, with a certainty hardly inferior to ocular demonstration."

The time of the discovery was now rapidly approaching. On the 18th of September, 1846, Le Verrier wrote to Dr. Galle of the Berlin Observatory, describing the place of the planet indicated by his calculations, and asking him to make its telescopic discovery. The request thus preferred was similar to that made on behalf of Adams to Professor Challis. Both at Berlin and at Cambridge the telescopic research was to be made in the same region of the heavens. The Berlin astronomers were, however, fortunate in possessing an invaluable aid to the research which was not at the time in the hands of Professor Challis. We have mentioned how the search for a telescopic planet can be facilitated by the use of a carefully-executed chart of the stars. In fact, a mere comparison of the chart with the sky is all that is necessary. It happened that the preparation of a series of star charts had been undertaken by the Berlin Academy of Sciences some years previously. On these charts the place of every star, down even to the tenth magnitude, had been faithfully engraved. This work was one of much utility, but its originators could hardly have anticipated the brilliant discovery which would arise from their years of tedious labour. It was found convenient to publish such an extensive piece of surveying work by instalments, and accordingly, as the chart was completed, it issued from the press sheet by sheet. It happened that just before the news of Le Verrier's labours reached Berlin the chart of that part of the heavens had been engraved and printed.

It was on the 23rd of September that Le Verrier's letter reached Dr. Galle at Berlin. The sky that night was clear, and we can imagine with what anxiety Dr. Galle directed his telescope to the heavens. The instrument was pointed in accordance with Le Verrier's instructions. The field of view showed a multitude of stars, as does every part of the heavens. One of these was really the planet. The new chart was unrolled, and, star by star, the heavens were compared with it. As the identification of the stars went on, one object after another was found to lie in the heavens as it was engraved on the chart, and was of course rejected. At length a star of the eighth magnitude—a brilliant object—was brought into review. The chart was examined, but there was no star there. This object could not have been in its present place when the chart was formed. The object was therefore a wanderer—a planet. Yet it was necessary to be cautious in such a matter. Many possibilities had to be guarded against. It was, for instance, at least conceivable that the object was really a star which, by some mischance, eluded the careful eye of the astronomer who had constructed the map. It was even possible that the star might be one of the large class of variables which alternate in brightness, and it might have been too faint to have been visible when the chart was made. Or it might be one of the minor planets moving between Mars and Jupiter. Even if none of these explanations would answer, it was still necessary to show that the object was moving with that particular velocity and in that particular direction which the theory of Le Verrier indicated. The lapse of a single day was sufficient to dissipate all doubts. The next night the object was again observed. It had moved, and when its motion was measured it was found to accord precisely with what Le Verrier had foretold. Indeed, as if no circumstance in the confirmation should be wanting, the diameter of the planet, as measured by the micrometers at Berlin, proved to be practically coincident with that anticipated by Le Verrier.

The world speedily rang with the news of this splendid achievement. Instantly the name of Le Verrier rose to a pinnacle hardly surpassed by that of any astronomer of any age or country. The circumstances of the discovery were highly dramatic. We picture the great astronomer buried in profound meditation for many months; his eyes are bent, not on the stars, but on his calculations. No telescope is in his hand; the human intellect is the instrument he alone uses. With patient labour, guided by consummate mathematical artifice, he manipulates his columns of figures. He attempts one solution after another. In each he learns something to avoid; by each he obtains some light to guide him in his future labours. At length he begins to see harmony in those results where before there was but discord. Gradually the clouds disperse, and he discerns with a certainty little short of actual vision the planet glittering in the far depths of space. He rises from his desk and invokes the aid of a practical astronomer; and lo! there is the planet in the indicated spot. The annals of science present no such spectacle as this. It was the most triumphant proof of the law of universal gravitation. The Newtonian theory had indeed long ere this attained an impregnable position; but, as if to place its truth in the most conspicuous light, this discovery of Neptune was accomplished.

For a moment it seemed as if the French were to enjoy the undivided honour of this splendid triumph; nor would it, indeed, have been unfitting that the nation which gave birth to Lagrange and to Laplace, and which developed the great Newtonian theory by their immortal labours, should have obtained this distinction. Up to the time of the telescopic discovery of the planet by Dr. Galle at Berlin, no public announcement had been made of the labours of Challis in searching for the planet, nor even of the theoretical researches of Adams on which those observations were based. But in the midst of the pæans of triumph with which the enthusiastic French nation hailed the discovery of Le Verrier, there appeared a letter from Sir John Herschel in the Athenæum for 3rd October, 1846, in which he announced the researches made by Adams, and claimed for him a participation in the glory of the discovery. Subsequent enquiry has shown that this claim was a just one, and it is now universally admitted by all independent authorities. Yet it will easily be imagined that the French savants, jealous of the fame of their countryman, could not at first be brought to recognise a claim so put forward. They were asked to divide the unparalleled honour between their own illustrious countryman and a young foreigner of whom but few had ever heard, and who had not even published a line of his work, nor had any claim been made on his part until after the work had been completely finished by Le Verrier. The demand made on behalf of Adams was accordingly refused any acknowledgment in France; and an embittered controversy was the consequence. Point by point the English astronomers succeeded in establishing the claim of their countryman. It was true that Adams had not published his researches to the world, but he had communicated them to the Astronomer-Royal, the official head of the science in this country. They were also well known to Professor Challis, the Professor of Astronomy at Cambridge. Then, too, the work of Adams was published, and it was found to be quite as thorough and quite as successful as that of Le Verrier. It was also found that the method of search adopted by Professor Challis not only must have been eventually successful, but that it actually was in a sense already successful. When the telescopic discovery of the planet had been achieved, Challis turned naturally to see whether he had observed the new globe also. It was on the 1st October that he heard of the success of Dr. Galle, and by that time Challis had accumulated observations in connection with this research of no fewer than 3,150 stars. Among them he speedily found that an object observed on the 12th of August was not in the same place on the 30th of July. This was really the planet; and its discovery would thus have been assured had Challis had time to compare his measurements. In fact, if he had only discussed his observations at once, there cannot be much doubt that the entire glory of the discovery would have been awarded to Adams. He would then have been first, no less in the theoretical calculations than in the optical verification of the planet's existence. It may also be remarked that Challis narrowly missed making the discovery of Neptune in another way. Le Verrier had pointed out in his paper the possibility of detecting the sought-for globe by its disc. Challis made the attempt, and before the intelligence of the actual discovery at Berlin had reached him he had made an examination of the region indicated by Le Verrier. About 300 stars passed through the field of view, and among them he selected one on account of its disc; it afterwards appeared that this was indeed the planet.

If the researches of Le Verrier and of Adams had never been undertaken it is certain that the distant Neptune must have been some time discovered; yet that might have been made in a manner which every true lover of science would now deplore. We hear constantly that new minor planets are observed, yet no one attaches to such achievements a fraction of the consequence belonging to the discovery of Neptune. The danger was, that Neptune should have been merely dropped upon by simple survey work, just as Uranus was discovered, or just as the hosts of minor planets are now found. In this case Theoretical Astronomy, the great science founded by Newton, would have been deprived of its most brilliant illustration.

Neptune had, in fact, a very narrow escape on at least one previous occasion of being discovered in a very simple way. This was shown when sufficient observations had been collected to enable the path of the planet to be calculated. It was then possible to trace back the movements of the planet among the stars and thus to institute a search in the catalogues of earlier astronomers to see whether they contained any record of Neptune, erroneously noted as a star. Several such instances have been discovered. I shall, however, only refer to one, which possesses a singular interest. It was found that the place of the planet on May 10th, 1795, must have coincided with that of a so-called star recorded on that day in the "Histoire Céleste" of Lalande. By actual examination of the heavens it further appeared that there was no star in the place indicated by Lalande, so the fact that here was really an observation of Neptune was placed quite beyond doubt. When reference was made to the original manuscripts of Lalande, a matter of great interest was brought to light. It was there found that he had observed the same star (for so he regarded it) both on May 8th and on May 10th; on each day he had determined its position, and both observations are duly recorded. But when he came to prepare his catalogue and found that the places on the two occasions were different, he discarded the earlier result, and merely printed the latter.

Had Lalande possessed a proper confidence in his own observations, an immortal discovery lay in his grasp; had he manfully said, "I was right on the 10th of May and I was right on the 8th of May; I made no mistake on either occasion, and the object I saw on the 8th must have moved between that and the 10th," then he must without fail have found Neptune. But had he done so, how lamentable would have been the loss to science! The discovery of Neptune would then merely have been an accidental reward to a laborious worker, instead of being one of the most glorious achievements in the loftiest department of human reason.

Besides this brief sketch of the discovery of Neptune, we have but little to tell with regard to this distant planet. If we fail to see in Uranus any of those features which make Mars or Venus, Jupiter or Saturn, such attractive telescopic objects, what can we expect to find in Neptune, which is half as far again as Uranus? With a good telescope and a suitable magnifying power we can indeed see that Neptune has a disc, but no features on that disc can be identified. We are consequently not in a position to ascertain the period in which Neptune rotates around its axis, though from the general analogy of the system we must feel assured that it really does rotate. More successful have been the attempts to measure the diameter of Neptune, which is found to be about 35,000 miles, or more than four times the diameter of the earth. It would also seem that, like Jupiter and like Saturn, the planet must be enveloped with a vast cloud-laden atmosphere, for the mean density of the globe is only about one-fifth that of the earth. This great globe revolves around the sun at a mean distance of no less than 2,800 millions of miles, which is about thirty times as great as the mean distance from the earth to the sun. The journey, though accomplished at the rate of more than three miles a second, is yet so long that Neptune requires almost 165 years to complete one revolution. Since its discovery, some fifty years ago, Neptune has moved through about one-third of its path, and even since the date when it was first casually seen by Lalande, in 1795, it has only had time to traverse three-fifths of its mighty circuit.