The rings of Saturn, always among
the most interesting objects of astronomical research,
have recently been subjected to close scrutiny under
high telescopic powers by Mr. Trouvelot, of the Harvard
Observatory, Cambridge, U.S. The results which
he has obtained afford very significant evidence respecting
these strange appendages, and even throw some degree
of light on the subject of cosmical evolution.
The present time, when Saturn is the ruling planet
of the night, seems favourable for giving a brief
account of recent speculations respecting the Saturnian
ring-system, especially as the observations of Mr.
Trouvelot appear to remove all doubt as to the true
nature of the rings, if indeed any doubt could reasonably
be entertained after the investigations made by European
and American astronomers when the dark inner ring
had but recently been recognised.
It may be well to give a brief account
of the progress of observation from the time when
the rings were first discovered.
In passing, I may remark that the
failure of Galileo to ascertain the real shape of
these appendages has always seemed to me to afford
striking evidence of the importance of careful reasoning
upon all observations whose actual significance is
not at once apparent. If Galileo had been thus
careful to analyse his observations of Saturn, he
could not have failed to ascertain their real meaning.
He had seen the planet apparently attended by two
large satellites, one on either side, ’as though
supporting the aged Saturn upon his slow course around
the sun.’ Night after night he had seen
these attendants, always similarly placed, one on
either side of the planet, and at equal distances from
it. Then in 1612 he had again examined the planet,
and lo, the attendants had vanished, ’as though
Saturn had been at his old tricks, and had devoured
his children.’ But after a while the attendant
orbs had reappeared in their former positions, had
seemed slowly to grow larger, until at length they
had presented the appearance of two pairs of mighty
arms encompassing the planet. If Galileo had reasoned
upon these changes of appearance, he could not have
failed, as it seems to me, to interpret their true
meaning. The three forms under which the rings
had been seen by him sufficed to indicate the true
shape of the appendage. Because Saturn was seen
with two attendants of apparently equal size and always
equi-distant from him, it was certain that there
must be some appendage surrounding him, and extending
to that distance from his globe. Because this
appendage disappeared, it was certain that it must
be thin and flat. Because it appeared at another
time with a dark space between the arms and the planet,
it was certain that the appendage is separated by a
wide gap from the body of the planet. So that
Galileo might have concluded not doubtfully,
but with assured confidence that the appendage
is a thin flat ring nowhere attached to the planet,
or, as Huyghens said some forty years later, Saturn
’annulo cingitur tenui, plano, nusquam cohaerente.’
Whether such reasoning would have been accepted by
the contemporaries of Galileo may be doubtful.
The generality of men are not content with reasoning
which is logically sound, but require evidence which
they can easily understand. Very likely Huyghens’
proof from direct observation, though in reality not
a whit more complete and far rougher, would have been
regarded as the first true proof of the existence
of Saturn’s ring, just as Sir W. Herschel’s
observation of one star actually moving round another
was regarded as the first true proof of the physical
association of certain stars, a fact which Michell
had proved as completely and far more neatly half
a century earlier, by a method, however, which was
’caviare to the general.’
However, as matters chanced, the scientific
world was not called upon to decide between the merits
of a discovery made by direct observation and one
effected by means of abstract reasoning. It was
not until Saturn had been examined with much higher
telescopic power than Galileo could employ, that the
appendage which had so perplexed the Florentine astronomer
was seen to be a thin flat ring, nowhere touching the
planet, and considerably inclined to the plane in
which Saturn travels. We cannot wonder that the
discovery was regarded as a most interesting one.
Astronomers had heretofore had to deal with solid masses,
either known to be spheroidal, like the earth, the
sun, the moon, Jupiter, and Venus, or presumed to
be so, like the stars. The comets might be judged
to be vaporous masses of various forms; but even these
were supposed to surround or to attend upon globe-shaped
nuclear masses. Here, however, in the case of
Saturn’s ring, was a quoit-shaped body travelling
around the sun in continual attendance upon Saturn,
whose motions, no matter how they varied in velocity
or direction, were so closely followed by this strange
attendant that the planet remained always centrally
poised within the span of its ring-girdle. To
appreciate the interest with which this strange phenomenon
was regarded, we must remember that as yet the law
of gravity had not been recognised. Huyghens discovered
the ring (or rather perceived its nature) in 1659,
but it was not till 1666 that Newton first entertained
the idea that the moon is retained in its orbit about
the earth by the attractive energy which causes unsupported
bodies to fall earthwards; and he was unable to demonstrate
the law of gravity before 1684. Now, in a general
sense, we can readily understand in these days how
a ring around a planet continues to travel along with
the planet despite all changes of velocity or direction
of motion. For the law of gravity teaches that
the same causes which tend to change the direction
and velocity of the planet’s motion tend in precisely
the same degree to change the direction and velocity
of the ring’s motion. But when Huyghens
made his discovery it must have appeared a most mysterious
circumstance that a ring and planet should be thus
constantly associated that during thousands
of years no collision should have occurred whereby
the relatively delicate structure of the ring had been
destroyed.
Only six years later a discovery was
made by two English observers, William and Thomas
Ball, which enhanced the mystery. Observing the
northern face of the ring, which was at that time turned
earthwards, they perceived a black stripe of considerable
breadth dividing the ring into two concentric portions.
The discovery did not attract so much attention as
it deserved, insomuch that when Cassini, ten years
later, announced the discovery of a corresponding
dark division on the southern surface, none recalled
the observation made by the brothers Ball. Cassini
expressed the opinion that the ring is really divided
into two, not merely marked by a dark stripe on its
southern face. This conclusion would, of course,
have been an assured one, had the previous observation
of a dark division on the northern face been remembered.
With the knowledge which we now possess, indeed, the
darkness of the seeming stripe would be sufficient
evidence that there must be a real division there
between the rings; for we know that no mere darkness
of the ring’s substance could account for the
apparent darkness of the stripe. It has been
well remarked by Professor Tyndall, that if the moon’s
whole surface could be covered with black velvet,
she would yet appear white when seen on the dark background
of the sky. And it may be doubted whether a circular
strip of black velvet 2000 miles wide, placed where
we see the dark division between the rings, would appear
nearly as dark as that division. Since we could
only admit the possibility of some substance resembling
our darker rocks occupying this position (for we know
of nothing to justify the supposition that a substance
as dark as lampblack or black velvet could be there),
we are manifestly precluded from supposing that the
dark space is other than a division between two distinct
rings.
Yet Sir W. Herschel, in examining
the rings of Saturn with his powerful telescopes,
for a long time favoured the theory that there is no
real division. He called it the ‘broad
black mark,’ and argued that it can neither
indicate the existence of a zone of hills upon the
ring, nor of a vast cavernous groove, for in either
case it would present changes of appearance (according
to the ring’s changes of position) such as he
was unable to detect. It was not until the year
1790, eleven years after his observations had commenced,
that, perceiving a corresponding broad black mark
upon the ring’s southern face, Herschel expressed
a ‘suspicion’ that the ring is divided
into two concentric portions by a circular gap nearly
2000 miles in width. He expressed at the same
time, very strongly, his belief that this division
was the only one in Saturn’s ring-system.
A special interest attached at that
time to the question whether the ring is divided or
not, for Laplace had then recently published the results
of his mathematical inquiry into the movements of such
a ring as Saturn’s, and, having proved
that a single solid ring of such enormous width could
not continue to move around the planet, had expressed
the opinion that Saturn’s ring consists
in reality of many concentric rings, each turning,
with its own proper rotation rate, around the central
planet. It is singular that Herschel, who, though
not versed in the methods of the higher mathematics,
had considerable native power as a mathematician,
was unable to perceive the force of Laplace’s
reasoning. Indeed, this is one of those cases
where clearness of perception rather than profundity
of mathematical insight was required. Laplace’s
equations of motion did not express all the relations
involved, nor was it possible to judge, from the results
he deduced, how far the stability of the Saturnian
rings depended on the real structure of these appendages.
One who was well acquainted with mechanical matters,
and sufficiently versed in mathematics to understand
how to estimate generally the forces acting upon the
ring-system, could have perceived as readily the general
conditions of the problem as the most profound mathematician.
One may compare the case to the problem of determining
whether the action of the moon in causing the tidal
wave modifies in any manner the earth’s motion
of rotation. We know that as a mathematical question
this is a very difficult one. The Astronomer
Royal, for example, not long ago dealt with it analytically,
and deduced the conclusion that there is no effect
on the earth’s rotation, presently however,
discovering by a lucky chance a term in the result
which indicates an effect of that kind. But if
we look at the matter in its mechanical aspect, we
perceive at once, without any profound mathematical
research, that the retardation so hard to detect mathematically
must necessarily take place. As Sir E. Beckett
says in his masterly work, Astronomy without Mathematics,
’the conclusion is as evident without mathematics
as with them, when once it has been suggested.’
So when we consider the case of a wide flat ring surrounding
a mighty planet like Saturn, we perceive that nothing
could possibly save such a ring from destruction if
it were really one solid structure.
To recognise this the more clearly,
let us first notice the dimensions of the planet and
rings.
We have in Saturn a globe about 70,000
miles in mean diameter, an equatorial diameter being
about 73,000 miles, the polar diameter 66,000 miles.
The attractive force of this mighty mass upon bodies
placed on its surface is equal to about one-fifth
more than terrestrial gravity if the body is near
the pole of Saturn, and is almost exactly the same
as terrestrial gravity if the body is at the planet’s
equator. Its action on the matter of the ring
is, of course, very much less, because of the increased
distance, but still a force is exerted on every part
of the ring which is comparable with the familiar
force of terrestrial gravity. The outer edge
of the outer ring lies about 83,500 miles from the
planet’s centre, the inner edge of the inner
ring (I speak throughout of the ring-system as known
to Sir W. Herschel and Laplace) about 54,500 miles
from the centre, the breadth of the system of bright
rings being about 29,000 miles. Between the planet’s
equator and the inner edge of the innermost bright
ring there intervenes a space of about 20,000 miles.
Roughly speaking, it may be said that the attraction
of the planet on the substance of the ring’s
inner edge is less than gravity at Saturn’s
equator (or, which is almost exactly the same thing,
is less than terrestrial gravity) in about the proportion
of 9 to 20; or, still more roughly, the inner edge
of Saturn’s inner bright ring is drawn inwards
by about half the force of gravity at the earth’s
surface. The outer edge is drawn towards Saturn
by a force less than terrestrial gravity in the proportion
of about 3 to 16 say roughly that the force
thus exerted by Saturn on the matter of the outer edge
of the ring-system is equivalent to about one-fifth
of the force of gravity at the earth’s surface.
It is clear, first, that if the ring-system
did not rotate, the forces thus acting on the material
of the rings would immediately break them into fragments,
and, dragging these down to the planet’s equator,
would leave them scattered in heaps upon that portion
of Saturn’s surface. The ring would in
fact be in that case like a mighty arch, each portion
of which would be drawn towards Saturn’s centre
by its own weight. This weight would be enormous
if Bessel’s estimate of the mass of the ring-system
is correct. He made the mass of the ring rather
greater than the mass of the earth an estimate
which I believe to be greatly in excess of the truth.
Probably the rings do not amount in mass to more than
a fourth part of the earth’s mass. But even
that is enormous, and subjected as is the material
of the rings to forces varying from one-half to a
fifth of terrestrial gravity, the strains and pressures
upon the various parts of the system would exceed thousands
of times those which even the strongest material built
up into their shape could resist. The system
would no more be able to resist such strains and pressures
than an arch of iron spanning the Atlantic would be
able to sustain its own weight against the earth’s
attraction.
It would be necessary then that the
ring-system should rotate around the planet.
But it is clear that the proper rate of rotation for
the outer portion would be very different from the
rate suited for the inner portion. In order that
the inner portion should travel around Saturn entirely
relieved of its weight, it should complete a revolution
in about seven hours twenty-three minutes. The
outer portion, however, should revolve in about thirteen
hours fifty-eight minutes, or nearly fourteen hours.
Thus the inner part should rotate in little more than
half the time required by the outer part. The
result would necessarily be that the ring-system would
be affected by tremendous strains, which it would
be quite unable to resist. The existence of the
great division would manifestly go far to diminish
the strains. It is easily shown that the rate
of turning where the division is, would be once in
about eleven hours and twenty-five minutes, not differing
greatly from the mean between the rotation-periods
for the outside and for the inside edges of the system.
Even then, however, the strains would be hundreds of
times greater than the material of the ring could
resist. A mass comparable in weight to our earth,
compelled to rotate in (say) nine hours when it ought
to rotate in eleven or in seven, would be subjected
to strains exceeding many times the resistances which
the cohesive power of its substance could afford.
That would be the condition of the inner ring.
And in like manner the outer ring, if it rotated in
about twelve hours and three-quarters, would have
its outer portions rotating too fast and its inner
portions too slowly, because their proper periods would
be fourteen hours and eleven hours and a half respectively.
Nothing but the division of the ring into a number
of narrow hoops could possibly save it from destruction
through the internal strains and pressures to which
its material would be subjected.
Even this complicated arrangement,
however, would not save the ring-system. If we
suppose a fine hoop to turn around a central attracting
body as the rings of Saturn rotate around the planet,
it may be shown that unless the hoop is so weighted
that its centre of gravity is far from the planet,
there will be no stability in the resulting motions;
the hoop will before long be made to rotate eccentrically,
and eventually be brought into destructive collision
with the central planet.
It was here that Laplace left the
problem. Nothing could have been more unsatisfactory
than his result, though it was accepted for nearly
half a century unquestioned. He had shown that
a weighted fine hoop may possibly turn around a central
attracting mass without destructive changes of position,
but he had not proved more than the bare possibility
of this, while nothing in the appearance of Saturn’s
rings suggests that any such arrangement exists.
Again, manifestly a multitude of narrow hoops, so
combined as to form a broad flat system of rings,
would be constantly in collision inter se.
Besides, each one of them would be subjected to destructive
strains. For though a fine uniform hoop set rotating
at a proper rate around an attracting mass at its
centre would be freed from all strains, the case is
very different with a hoop so weighted as to have
its centre of gravity greatly displaced. Laplace
had saved the theoretical stability of the motions
of a fine ring at the expense of the ring’s
power of resisting the strains to which it would be
exposed. It seems incredible that such a result
(expressed, too, very doubtingly by the distinguished
mathematician who had obtained it) should have been
accepted so long almost without question. There
is nothing in nature in the remotest degree resembling
the arrangement imagined by Laplace, which indeed appears
on a priori grounds impossible. It was
not claimed for it that it removed the original difficulties
of the problem; and it introduced others fully as
serious. So strong, however, is authority in the
scientific world that none ventured to express any
doubts except Sir W. Herschel, who simply denied that
the two rings were divided into many, as Laplace’s
theory required. As time went on and the signs
of many divisions were at times recognised, it was
supposed that Laplace’s reasoning had been justified;
and despite the utter impossibility of the arrangement
he had suggested, that arrangement was ordinarily
described as probably existing.
At length, however, a discovery was
made which caused the whole question to be reopened.
On November 10, 1850, W. Bond, observing
the planet with the telescope of the Harvard Observatory,
perceived within the inner bright ring a feeble illumination
which he was at a loss to understand. On the next
night the faint light was better seen. On the
15th, Tuttle, who was observing with Bond, suggested
the idea that the light within the inner bright ring
was due to a dusky ring inside the system of bright
rings. On November 25, Mr. Dawes in England perceived
this dusky ring, and announced the discovery before
the news had reached England that Bond had already
seen the dark ring. The credit of the discovery
is usually shared between Bond and Dawes, though the
usual rule in such matters would assign the discovery
to Bond alone. It was found that the dark ring
had already been seen at Rome so far back as 1828,
and again by Galle at Berlin in May 1838. The
Roman observations were not satisfactory. Those
by Galle, however, were sufficient to have established
the fact of the ring’s existence; indeed, in
1839 Galle measured the dark ring. But very little
attention was attracted to this interesting discovery,
insomuch that when Bond and Dawes announced their
observation of the dark ring in 1850, the news was
received by astronomers with all the interest attaching
to the detection of before unnoted phenomena.
It may be well to notice under what
conditions the dark ring was detected in 1850.
In September 1848 the ring had been turned edgewise
towards the sun, and as rather more than seven years
are occupied in the apparent gradual opening out of
the ring from that edge view to its most open appearance
(when the outline of the ring-system is an eclipse
whose lesser axis is nearly equal to half the greater),
it will be seen that in November 1850 the rings were
but slightly opened. Thus the recognition of
the dark ring within the bright system was made under
unfavourable conditions. For four preceding years that
is, from the year 1846 the rings had been
as little or less opened; and again for several years
preceding 1846, though the rings had been more open,
the planet had been unfavourably placed for observation
in northern latitudes, crossing the meridian at low
altitudes. Still, in 1838 and 1839, when the
rings were most open, although the planet was never
seen under favourable conditions, the opening of the
rings, then nearly at its greatest, made the recognition
of the dark ring possible; and we have seen that Galle
then made the discovery. When Bond rediscovered
the dark ring, everything promised that before long
the appendage would be visible with telescopes far
inferior in power to the great Harvard refractor.
Year after year the planet was becoming more favourably
placed for observation, while all the time the rings
were opening out. Accordingly it need not surprise
us to learn that in 1853 the dark ring was seen with
a telescope less than three inches and a half in aperture.
Even so early as 1851, Mr. Hartnup, observing the planet
with a telescope eight inches and a half in aperture,
found that ’the dark ring could not be overlooked
for an instant.’
But while this increase in the distinctness
of the dark ring was to be expected, from the mere
fact that the ring was discovered under relatively
unfavourable conditions, yet the fact that Saturn was
thus found to have an appendage of a remarkable character,
perfectly obvious even with moderate telescopic power,
was manifestly most surprising. The planet had
been studied for nearly two centuries with telescopes
exceeding in power those with which the dark ring was
now perceived. Some among these telescopes were
not only of great power, but employed by observers
of the utmost skill. The elder Herschel had for
a quarter of a century studied Saturn with his great
reflectors eighteen inches in aperture, and had at
times turned on the planet his monstrous (though not
mighty) four-feet mirror. Schroeter had examined
the dark space within the inner bright ring for the
special purpose of determining whether the ring-system
is really disconnected from the globe. He had
used a mirror nineteen inches in aperture, and he had
observed that the dark space seen on either side of
Saturn inside the ring-system not only appeared dark,
but actually darker than the surrounding sky.
This was presumably (though not quite certainly) an
effect of contrast only, the dark space being bounded
all round by bright surfaces. If real, the phenomenon
signified that whereas the space outside the ring,
where the satellites of the planet travel, was occupied
by some sort of cosmical dust, the space within the
ring-system was, as it were, swept and garnished,
as though all the scattered matter which might otherwise
have occupied that region had been either attracted
to the body of the planet or to the rings. But
manifestly the observation was entirely inconsistent
with the supposition that there existed in Schroeter’s
time a dark or dusky ring within the bright system.
Again, the elder Struve made the most careful measurement
of the whole of the ring-system in 1826, when the
system was as well placed for observation as in 1856
(or, in other words, as well placed as it can possibly
be); but though he used a telescope nine inches and
a half in aperture, and though his attention was specially
attracted to the inner edge of the inner bright ring
(which seemed to him indistinct), he did not
detect the dark ring. Yet we have seen that in
1851, under much less favourable conditions, a less
practised observer, using a telescope of less aperture,
found that the dark ring could not be overlooked for
an instant. It is manifest that all these considerations
point to the conclusion that the dark ring is a new
formation, or, at the least, that it has changed notably
in condition during the present century.
I have hitherto only considered the
appearance of the dusky ring as seen on either side
of the planet’s globe within the bright rings.
The most remarkable feature of the appendage remains
still to be mentioned the fact, namely,
that the bright body of the planet can be seen through
this dusky ring. Where the dark ring crosses the
planet, it appears as a rather dark belt, which might
readily be mistaken for a belt upon the planet’s
surface; for the outline of the planet can be seen
through the ring as through a film of smoke or a crape
veil.
Now it is worthy of notice that whereas
the dark ring was not detected outside the planet’s
body until 1838, nor generally recognised by astronomers
until 1850, the dark belt across the planet, really
caused by the dusky ring, was observed more than a
century earlier. In 1715 the younger Cassini
saw it, and perceived that it was not curved enough
for a belt really belonging to the planet. Hadley
again observed that the belt attended the ring as
this opened out and closed, or, in other words, that
the dark belt belonged to the ring, not to the body
of the planet. And in many pictures of Saturn’s
system a dark band is shown along the inner edge of
the inner bright ring where it crosses the body of
the planet. It seems to me that we have here a
most important piece of evidence respecting the rings.
It is clear that the inner part of the inner bright
ring has for more than a century and a half (how much
more we do not know) been partially transparent, and
it is probable that within its inner edge there has
been all the time a ring of matter; but this ring
has only within the last half-century gathered consistency
enough to be discernible. It is manifest that
the existence of the dark belt shown in the older
pictures would have led directly to the detection
of the dark ring, had not this appendage been exceedingly
faint. Thus, while the observation of the dark
belt across the planet’s face proves the dusky
ring to have existed in some form long before it was
perceived, the same fact only helps to render us certain
that the dark ring has changed notably in condition
during the present century.
The discovery of this singular appendage,
an object unique in the solar system, naturally attracted
fresh attention to the question of the stability of
the rings. The idea was thrown out by the elder
Bond that the new ring may be fluid, or even that
the whole ring-system may be fluid, and the dark ring
simply thinner than the rest. It was thought
possible that the ring-system is of the nature of a
vast ocean, whose waves are steadily advancing upon
the planet’s globe. The mathematical investigation
of the subject was also resumed by Professor Benjamin
Pierce, of Harvard, and it was satisfactorily demonstrated
that the stability of a system of actual rings of
solid matter required so nice an adjustment of so
many narrow rings as to render the system far more
complex than even Laplace had supposed. ‘A
stable formation can,’ he said, ’be nothing
other than a very great number of separate narrow
rigid rings, each revolving with its proper relative
velocity.’ As was well remarked by the
late Professor Nichol, ’If this arrangement or
anything like it were real, how many new conditions
of instability do we introduce. Observation tells
us that the division between such rings must be extremely
narrow, so that the slightest disturbance by external
or internal causes would cause one ring to impinge
upon another; and we should thus have the seed of
perpetual catastrophes.’ Nor would such
a constitution protect the system against dissolution.
’There is no escape from the difficulties, therefore,
but through the final rejection of the idea that Saturn’s
rings are rigid or in any sense a solid formation.’
The idea that the ring-system may
be fluid came naturally next under mathematical scrutiny.
Strangely enough, the physical objections to the theory
of fluidity appear to have been entirely overlooked.
Before we could accept such a theory, we must admit
the existence of elements differing entirely from
those with which we are familiar. No fluid known
to us could retain the form of the rings of Saturn
under the conditions to which they are exposed.
But the mathematical examination of the subject disposed
so thoroughly of the theory that the rings can consist
of continuous fluid masses, that we need not now discuss
the physical objections to the theory.
There remains only the theory that
the Saturnian ring-system consists of discrete masses
analogous to the streams of meteors known to exist
in great numbers within the solar system. The
masses may be solid or fluid, may be strewn in relatively
vacant space, or may be surrounded by vaporous envelopes;
but that they are discrete, each free to travel on
its own course, seemed as completely demonstrated by
Pierce’s calculations as anything not actually
admitting of direct observation could possibly be.
The matter was placed beyond dispute by the independent
analysis to which Clerk Maxwell subjected the mathematical
problem. It had been selected in 1855 as the subject
for the Adams Prize Essay at Cambridge, and Clerk
Maxwell’s essay, which obtained the prize, showed
conclusively that only a system of many small bodies,
each free to travel upon its course under the varying
attractions to which it was subjected by Saturn itself,
and by the Saturnian satellites, could possibly continue
to girdle a planet as the rings of Saturn girdle him.
It is clear that all the peculiarities
hitherto observed in the Saturnian ring-system are
explicable so soon as we regard that system as made
up of multitudes of small bodies. Varieties of
brightness simply indicate various degrees of condensation
of these small satellites. Thus the outer ring
had long been observed to be less bright than the inner.
Of course it did not seem impossible that the outer
ring might be made of different materials; yet there
was something bizarre in the supposition that two
rings forming the same system were thus different
in substance. It would not have been at all noteworthy
if different parts of the same ring differed in luminosity in
fact, it was much more remarkable that each zone of
the system seemed uniformly bright all round.
But that one zone should be of one tint, another of
an entirely different tint, was a strange circumstance
so long as the only available interpretation seemed
to be that one zone was made (throughout) of one substance,
the other of another. If this was strange when
the difference between the inner and outer bright
rings was alone considered, how much stranger did
it seem when the multitudinous divisions in the rings
were taken into account! Why should the ring-system,
30,000 miles in width, be thus divided into zones
of different material? An arrangement so artificial
is quite unlike all that is elsewhere seen among the
subjects of the astronomer’s researches.
But when the rings are regarded as made up of multitudes
of small bodies, we can quite readily understand how
the nearly circular movements of all of these, at
different rates, should result in the formation of
rings of aggregation and rings of segregation, appearing
at the earth’s distance as bright rings and
faint rings. The dark ring clearly corresponds
in appearance with a ring of thinly scattered satellites.
Indeed, it seems impossible otherwise to account for
the appearance of a dusky belt across the globe of
the planet where the dark ring crosses the disc.
If the material of the dark ring were some partly
transparent solid or fluid substance, the light of
the planet received through the dark ring added to
the light reflected by the dark ring itself, would
be so nearly equivalent to the light received from
the rest of the planet’s disc, that either no
dark belt would be seen, or the darkening would be
barely discernible. In some positions a bright
belt would be seen, not a dark one. But a ring
of scattered satellites would cast as its shadow a
multitude of black spots, which would give to the
belt in shadow a dark grey aspect. A considerable
proportion of these spots would be hidden by the satellites
forming the dark ring, and in every case where a spot
was wholly or partially hidden by a satellite, the
effect (at our distant station where the separate
satellites of the dark ring are not discernible) would
simply be to reduce pro tanto the darkness of
the grey belt of shadow. But certainly more than
half the shadows of the satellites would remain in
sight; for the darkness of the ring at the time of
its discovery showed that the satellites were very
sparsely strewn. And these shadows would be sufficient
to give to the belt a dusky hue, such as it presented
when first discovered.
The observations which have recently
been made by Mr. Trouvelot indicate changes in the
ring-system, and especially in the dark ring, which
place every other theory save that to which we have
thus been led entirely out of the question. It
should be noted that Mr. Trouvelot has employed telescopes
of unquestionable excellence and varying in aperture
from six inches to twenty-six inches, the latter aperture
being that of the great telescope of the Washington
Observatory (the largest refractor in the world).
He has noted in the first place that
the interior edge of the outer bright ring, which
marks the outer limit of the great division, is irregular,
but whether the irregularity is permanent or not he
does not know. The great division itself is found
not to be actually black, but, as was long since noted
by Captain Jacob, of the Madras Observatory, a very
dark brown, as though a few scattered satellites travelled
along this relatively vacant zone of the system.
Mr. Trouvelot has further noticed that the shadow
of the planet upon the rings, and especially upon
the outer ring, changes continually in shape, a circumstance
which he attributes to irregularities in the surface
of the rings. For my own part, I should be disposed
to attribute these changes in the shape of the planet’s
shadow (noted by other observers also) to rapid changes
in the deep cloud-laden atmosphere of the planet.
Passing on, however, to less doubtful observations,
we find that the whole system of rings has presented
a clouded and spotted aspect during the last four years.
Mr. Trouvelot specially describes this appearance
as observed on the parts of the ring outside the disc,
called by astronomers the ansae (because of
their resemblance to handles), and it would seem, therefore,
that the spotted and cloudy portions are seen only
where the background on which the rings are projected
is black. This circumstance clearly suggests
that the darkness of these parts is due to the background,
or, in other words, that the sky is in reality seen
through those parts of the ring-system, just as the
darkness of the slate-coloured interior ring is attributed,
on the satellite theory, to the background of sky visible
through the scattered flight of satellites forming
the dark ring. The matter composing the dark
ring has been observed by Mr. Trouvelot to be gathered
in places into compact masses, which prevent the light
of the planet from being seen through those portions
of the dark ring where the matter is thus massed together.
It is clear that such peculiarities could not possibly
present themselves in the case of a continuous solid
or fluid ring-system, whereas they would naturally
occur in a ring formed of multitudes of minute bodies
travelling freely around the planet.
The point next to be mentioned is
still more decisive. When the dark ring was carefully
examined with powerful telescopes during the ten years
following its discovery by Bond, at which time it was
most favourably placed for observation, it was observed
that the outline of the planet could be seen across
the entire breadth of the dark ring. All the
observations agreed in this respect. It was, indeed,
noticed by Dawes that outside the planet’s disc
the dark ring showed varieties of tint, its inner
half being darker than its outer portion. Lassell,
observing the planet under most favourable conditions
with his two-feet mirror at Malta, could not perceive
these varieties of tint, which therefore we may judge
to have been either not permanent or very slightly
marked. But, as I have said, all observers agreed
that the outline of the planet could be seen athwart
the entire width of the dark ring. Mr. Trouvelot,
however, has found that during the last four years
the planet has not been visible through the whole width
of the dark ring, but only through the inner half
of the ring’s breadth. It appears, then,
that either the inner portion is getting continually
thinner and thinner that is, the satellites
composing it are becoming continually more sparsely
strewn or that the outer portion is becoming
more compact, doubtless by receiving stray satellites
from the interior of the inner bright ring.
It is clear that in Saturn’s
ring-system, if not in the planet itself, mighty changes
are still taking place. It may be that the rings
are being so fashioned under the forces to which they
are subjected as to be on their way to becoming changed
into separate satellites, inner members of that system
which at present consists of eight secondary planets.
But, whatever may be the end towards which these changes
are tending, we see processes of evolution taking
place which may be regarded as typifying the more
extensive and probably more energetic processes whereby
the solar system itself reached its present condition.
I ventured more than ten years ago, in the preface
to my treatise upon the planet Saturn, to suggest
the possibility ’that in the variations perceptibly
proceeding in the Saturnian ring-system a key may one
day be found to the law of development under which
the solar system has reached its present condition.’
This suggestion seems to me strikingly confirmed by
the recent discoveries. The planet Saturn and
its appendages, always interesting to astronomers,
are found more than ever worthy of close investigation
and scrutiny. We may here, as it were, seize nature
in the act, and trace out the actual progress of developments
which at present are matters rather of theory than
of observation.