The Story of the Heavens

by Robert S. Ball

By whom was this great discovery made? Let us see if the question can be answered by the examination of astronomical records. At the close of his memorable life Copernicus was heard to express his sincere regret that he never enjoyed an opportunity of beholding the planet Mercury. He had specially longed to see this body, the movements of which were to such a marked extent illustrative of the theory of the celestial motions which it was his immortal glory to have established, but he had never been successful. Mercury is not generally to be seen so easily as are some of the other planets, and it may well have been that the vapours from the immense lagoon at the mouth of the Vistula obscured the horizon at Frauenburg, where Copernicus dwelt, and thus his opportunities of viewing Mercury were probably even rarer than they are at other places.

The existence of Mercury was certainly quite a familiar fact in the time of Copernicus, and therefore we must look to some earlier epoch for its discovery. In the scanty astronomical literature of the Middle Ages we find occasional references to the existence of this object. We can trace observations of Mercury through remote centuries to the commencement of our era. Records from dates still earlier are not wanting, until at length we come on an observation which has descended to us for more than 2,000 years, having been made in the year 265 before the Christian era. It is not pretended, however, that this observation records the discovery of the planet. Earlier still we find the chief of the astronomers at Nineveh alluding to Mercury in a report which he made to Assurbanipal, the King of Assyria. It does not appear in the least degree likely that the discovery was even then a recent one. It may have been that the planet was independently discovered in two or more localities, but all records of such discoveries are totally wanting; and we are ignorant alike of the names of the discoverers, of the nations to which they belonged, and of the epochs at which they lived.

Although this discovery is of such vast antiquity, although it was made before correct notions were entertained as to the true system of the universe, and, it is needless to add, long before the invention of the telescope, yet it must not be assumed that the detection of Mercury was by any means a simple or obvious matter. This will be manifest when we try to conceive the manner in which the discovery must probably have been made.

Some primæval astronomer, long familiar with the heavens, had learned to recognise the various stars and constellations. Experience had impressed upon him the permanence of these objects; he had seen that Sirius invariably appeared at the same seasons of the year, and he had noticed how it was placed with regard to Orion and the other neighbouring constellations. In the same manner each of the other bright stars was to him a familiar object always to be found in a particular region of the heavens. He saw how the stars rose and set in such a way, that though each star appeared to move, yet the relative positions of the stars were incapable of alteration. No doubt this ancient astronomer was acquainted with Venus; he knew the evening star; he knew the morning star; and he may have concluded that Venus was a body which oscillated from one side of the sun to the other.

We can easily imagine how the discovery of Mercury was made in the clear skies over an Eastern desert. The sun has set, the brief twilight has almost ceased, when lo, near that part of the horizon where the glow of the setting sun still illuminates the sky, a bright star is seen. The primæval astronomer knows that there is no bright star at this place in the heavens. If the object of his attention be not a star, what, then, can it be? Eager to examine this question, the heavens are watched next night, and there again, higher above the horizon, and more brilliant still, is the object seen the night before. Each successive night the body gains more and more lustre, until at length it becomes a conspicuous gem. Perhaps it will rise still higher and higher; perhaps it will increase till it attains the brilliancy of Venus itself. Such were the surmises not improbably made by those who first watched this object; but they were not realised. After a few nights of exceptional splendour the lustre of this mysterious orb declines. The planet again draws near the horizon at sunset, until at length it sets so soon after the sun that it has become invisible. Is it lost for ever? Years may elapse before another opportunity of observing the object after sunset may be available; but then again it will be seen to run through the same series of changes, though, perhaps, under very different circumstances. The greatest height above the horizon and the greatest brightness both vary considerably.

Long and careful observations must have been made before the primæval astronomer could assure himself that the various appearances might all be attributed to a single body. In the Eastern deserts the phenomena of sunrise must have been nearly as familiar as those of sunset, and in the clear skies, at the point where the sunbeams were commencing to dawn above the horizon, a bright star-like point might sometimes be perceived. Each successive day this object rose higher and higher above the horizon before the moment of sunrise, and its lustre increased with the distance; then again it would draw in towards the sun, and return for many months to invisibility. Such were the data which were presented to the mind of the primitive astronomer. One body was seen after sunset, another body was seen before sunrise. To us it may seem an obvious inference from the observed facts that the two bodies were identical. The inference is a correct one, but it is in no sense an obvious one. Long and patient observation established the remarkable law that one of these bodies was never seen until the other had disappeared. Hence it was inferred that the phenomena, both at sunrise and at sunset, were due to the same body, which oscillated to and fro about the sun.

We can easily imagine that the announcement of the identity of these two objects was one which would have to be carefully tested before it could be accepted. How are the tests to be applied in a case of this kind? There can hardly be a doubt that the most complete and convincing demonstration of scientific truth is found in the fulfilment of prediction. When Mercury had been observed for years, a certain regularity in the recurrence of its visibility was noticed. Once a periodicity had been fully established, prediction became possible. The time when Mercury would be seen after sunset, the time when it would be seen before sunrise, could be foretold with accuracy! When it was found that these predictions were obeyed to the letter—that the planet was always seen when looked for in accordance with the predictions—it was impossible to refuse assent to the hypothesis on which these predictions were based. Underlying that hypothesis was the assumption that all the various appearances arose from the oscillations of a single body, and hence the discovery of Mercury was established on a basis as firm as the discovery of Jupiter or of Venus.

In the latitudes of the British Islands it is generally possible to see Mercury some time during the course of the year. It is not practicable to lay down, within reasonable limits, any general rule for finding the dates at which the search should be made; but the student who is determined to see the planet will generally succeed with a little patience. He must first consult an almanac which gives the positions of the body, and select an occasion when Mercury is stated to be an evening or a morning star. Such an occasion during the spring months is especially suitable, as the elevation of Mercury above the horizon is usually greater then than at other seasons; and in the evening twilight, about three-quarters of an hour after sunset, a view of this shy but beautiful object will reward the observer's attention.

To those astronomers who are provided with equatorial telescopes such instructions are unnecessary. To enjoy a telescopic view of Mercury, we first turn to the Nautical Almanac, and find the position in which the planet lies. If it happen to be above the horizon, we can at once direct the telescope to the place, and even in broad daylight the planet will very often be seen. The telescopic appearance of Mercury is, however, disappointing. Though it is much larger than the moon, yet it is sufficiently far off to seem insignificant. There is, however, one feature in a view of this planet which would immediately attract attention. Mercury is not usually observed to be a circular object, but more or less crescent-shaped, like a miniature moon. The phases of the planet are also to be accounted for on exactly the same principles as the phases of the moon. Mercury is a globe composed, like our earth, of materials possessing in themselves no source of illumination. One hemisphere of the planet must necessarily be turned towards the sun, and this side is accordingly lighted up brilliantly by the solar rays. When we look at Mercury we see nothing of the non-illuminated side, and the crescent is due to the foreshortened view which we obtain of the illuminated part. The planet is such a small object that, in the glitter of the naked-eye view, the shape of the luminous body cannot be defined. Indeed, even in the much larger crescent of Venus, the aid of the telescope has to be invoked before the characteristic form can be observed. Beyond, however, the fact that Mercury is a crescent, and that it undergoes varying phases in correspondence with the changes in its relative position to the earth and the sun, we cannot see much of the planet. It is too small and too bright to admit of easy delineation of details on its surface. No doubt attempts have been made, and observations have been recorded, as to certain very faint and indistinct markings on the planet, but such statements must be received with great hesitation.