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[2] Otto Struve was a brother of the very popular Russian minister to Washington during the years 1882-92. He retired from the direction of the Pulkowa Observatory about 1894. The official history of his negotiations and other proceedings for the construction of the telescope will be found in a work published in 1889 in honor of the jubilee of the observatory.

VI

THE TRANSITS OF VENUS

It was long supposed that transits of Venus over the sun's disk afforded the only accurate method of determining the distance of the sun, one of the fundamental data of astronomy. Unfortunately, these phenomena are of the rarest. They come in pairs, with an interval of eight years between the transits of a pair. A pair occurred in 1761 and 1769, and again in 1874 and 1882. Now the whole of the twentieth century will pass without another recurrence of the phenomenon. Not until the years 2004 and 2012 will our posterity have the opportunity of witnessing it.

Much interesting history is associated with the adventures of the astronomers who took part in the expeditions to observe the transits of 1761 and 1769. In the almost chronic warfare which used to rage between France and England during that period, neither side was willing to regard as neutral even a scientific expedition sent out by the other. The French sent one of their astronomers, Le Gentil, to observe the transit at Pondicherry in the East Indies. As he was nearing his station, the presence of the enemy prevented him from making port, and he was still at sea on the day of the transit.

When he at length landed, he determined to remain until the transit of 1769, and observe that. We must not suppose, however, that he was guilty of the eccentricity of doing this with no other object in view than that of making the observation. He found the field open for profitable mercantile enterprise, as well as interesting for scientific observations and inquiries. The eight long years passed away, and the morning of June 4, 1769, found him in readiness for his work. The season had been exceptionally fine. On the morning of the transit the sun shone in a cloudless sky, as it had done for several days previous. But, alas for all human hopes! Just before Venus reached the sun, the clouds gathered, and a storm burst upon the place. It lasted until the transit was over, and then cleared away again as if with the express object of showing the unfortunate astronomer how helpless he was in the hands of the elements.

The Royal Society of England procured a grant of 800 from King George II. for expeditions to observe the transit of 1761. [1]

With this grant the Society sent the Rev. Nevil Maskelyne to the island of St. Helena, and, receiving another grant, it was used to dispatch Messrs. Mason and Dixon (those of our celebrated "line") to Bencoolen. The admiralty also supplied a ship for conveying the observers to their respective destinations. Maskelyne, however, would not avail himself of this conveyance, but made his voyage on a private vessel. Cloudy weather prevented his observations of the transit, but this did not prevent his expedition from leaving for posterity an interesting statement of the necessaries of an astronomer of that time. His itemized account of personal expenses was as follows:--

One year's board at St. Helena . . 109 10s. 0d.

Liquors at 5s. per day . . . . 91 5 0 Washing at 9d. per day . . . . 13 13 9 Other expenses . . . . . . 27 7 6 Liquors on board ship for six months 50 0 0 --- --- --- 291 16s. 3d.

Seven hundred dollars was the total cost of liquors during the eighteen months of his absence. Admiral Smyth concludes that Maskelyne "was not quite what is now ycleped a teetotaler." He was subsequently Astronomer Royal of England for nearly half a century, but his published observations give no indication of the cost of the drinks necessary to their production.

Mason and Dixon's expedition met with a mishap at the start.

They had only got fairly into the English Channel when their ship fell in with a French frigate of superior force. An action ensued in which the English crew lost eleven killed and thirty-eight wounded.

The Frenchman was driven off, but the victorious vessel had to return to Plymouth for repairs. This kind of a scientific expedition was more than the astronomers had bargained for, and they wrote from Plymouth to the Royal Society, describing their misfortune and resigning their mission. But the Council of the Society speedily let them know that they were unmoved by the misfortunes of their scientific missionaries, and pointed out to them in caustic terms that, having solemnly undertaken the expedition, and received money on account of it, their failure to proceed on the voyage would be a reproach to the nation in general, and to the Royal Society in particular. It would also bring an indelible scandal upon their character, and probably end in their utter ruin. They were assured that if they persisted in the refusal, they would be treated with the most inflexible resentment, and prosecuted with the utmost severity of the law.

Under such threats the unfortunate men could do nothing but accept the situation and sail again after their frigate had been refitted.

When they got as far as the Cape of Good Hope, it was found very doubtful whether they would reach their destination in time for the transit; so, to make sure of some result from their mission, they made their observations at the Cape.

One of the interesting scraps of history connected with the transit of 1769 concerns the observations of Father Maximilian Hell, S. J., the leading astronomer of Vienna. He observed the transit at Wardhus, a point near the northern extremity of Norway, where the sun did not set at the season of the transit. Owing to the peculiar circumstances under which the transit was observed,--the ingress of the planet occurring two or three hours before the sun approached the northern horizon, and the end of the transit about as long afterward,--this station was the most favorable one on the globe. Hell, with two or three companions, one of them named Sajnovics, went on his mission to this isolated place under the auspices of the king of Denmark.

The day was cloudless and the observations were made with entire success. He returned to Copenhagen, where he passed several months in preparing for the press a complete account of his expedition and the astronomical observations made at the station.

Astronomers were impatient to have the results for the distance of the sun worked out as soon as possible. Owing to the importance of Hell's observations, they were eagerly looked for. But he at first refused to make them known, on the ground that, having been made under the auspices of the king of Denmark, they ought not to be made known in advance of their official publication by the Danish Academy of Sciences. This reason, however, did not commend itself to the impatient astronomers; and suspicions were aroused that something besides official formalities was behind the delay. It was hinted that Hell was waiting for the observations made at other stations in order that he might so manipulate his own that they would fit in with those made elsewhere. Reports were even circulated that he had not seen the transit at all, owing to cloudy weather, and that he was manufacturing observations in Copenhagen. The book was, however, sent to the printer quite promptly, and the insinuations against its author remained a mere suspicion for more than sixty years. Then, about 1833, a little book was published on the subject by Littrow, Director of the Vienna Observatory, which excited much attention.

Father Hell's original journal had been conveyed to Vienna on his return, and was still on deposit at the Austrian National Observatory.

Littrow examined it and found, as he supposed, that the suspicions of alterations in observations were well founded; more especially that the originals of the all-important figures which recorded the critical moment of "contact" had been scraped out of the paper, and new ones inserted in their places. The same was said to be the case with many other important observations in the journal, and the conclusion to which his seemingly careful examination led was that no reliance could be placed on the genuineness of Hell's work.

The doubts thus raised were not dispelled until another half-century had elapsed.

In 1883 I paid a visit to Vienna for the purpose of examining the great telescope which had just been mounted in the observatory there by Grubb, of Dublin. The weather was so unfavorable that it was necessary to remain two weeks, waiting for an opportunity to see the stars. One evening I visited the theatre to see Edwin Booth, in his celebrated tour over the Continent, play King Lear to the applauding Viennese. But evening amusements cannot be utilized to kill time during the day. Among the tasks I had projected was that of rediscussing all the observations made on the transits of Venus which had occurred in 1761 and 1769, by the light of modern science.

As I have already remarked, Hell's observations were among the most important made, if they were only genuine. So, during my almost daily visits to the observatory, I asked permission of Director Weiss to study Hell's manuscript.

At first the task of discovering anything which would lead to a positive decision on one side or the other seemed hopeless. To a cursory glance, the descriptions given by Littrow seemed to cover the ground so completely that no future student could turn his doubt into certainty. But when one looks leisurely at an interesting object, day after day, he continually sees more and more. Thus it was in the present case. One of the first things to strike me as curious was that many of the alleged alterations had been made before the ink got dry. When the writer made a mistake, he had rubbed it out with his finger, and made a new entry.

The all-important point was a certain suspicious record which Littrow affirmed had been scraped out so that the new insertion could be made. As I studied these doubtful figures, day by day, light continually increased. Evidently the heavily written figures, which were legible, had been written over some other figures which were concealed beneath them, and were, of course, completely illegible, though portions of them protruded here and there outside of the heavy figures. Then I began to doubt whether the paper had been scraped at all. To settle the question, I found a darkened room, into which the sun's rays could be admitted through an opening in the shutter, and held the paper in the sunlight in such a way that the only light which fell on it barely grazed the surface of the paper.

Examining the sheet with a magnifying glass, I was able to see the original texture of the surface with all its hills and hollows.

A single glance sufficed to show conclusively that no eraser had ever passed over the surface, which had remained untouched.

The true state of the case seemed to me almost beyond doubt.

It frequently happened that the ink did not run freely from the pen, so that the words had sometimes to be written over again.

When Hell first wrote down the little figures on which, as he might well suppose, future generations would have to base a very important astronomical element, he saw that they were not written with a distinctness corresponding to their importance. So he wrote them over again with the hand, and in the spirit of a man who was determined to leave no doubt on the subject, little weening that the act would give rise to a doubt which would endure for a century.

This, although the most important case of supposed alteration, was by no means the only one. Yet, to my eyes, all the seeming corrections in the journal were of the most innocent and commonplace kind,--such as any one may make in writing.

Then I began to compare the manuscript, page after page, with Littrow's printed description. It struck me as very curious that where the manuscript had been merely retouched with ink which was obviously the same as that used in the original writing, but looked a little darker than the original, Littrow described the ink as of a different color. In contrast with this, there was an important interlineation, which was evidently made with a different kind of ink, one that had almost a blue tinge by comparison; but in the description he makes no mention of this plain difference. I thought this so curious that I wrote in my notes as follows:--

"That Littrow, in arraying his proofs of Hell's forgery, should have failed to dwell upon the obvious difference between this ink and that with which the alterations were made leads me to suspect a defect in his sense of color."

Then it occurred to me to inquire whether, perhaps, such could have been the case. So I asked Director Weiss whether anything was known as to the normal character of Littrow's power of distinguishing colors. His answer was prompt and decisive. "Oh, yes, Littrow was color blind to red. He could not distinguish between the color of Aldebaran and that of the whitest star." No further research was necessary. For half a century the astronomical world had based an impression on the innocent but mistaken evidence of a color-blind man respecting the tints of ink in a manuscript.

About the middle of the nineteenth century other methods of measuring the sun's distance began to be developed which, it was quite possible, might prove as good as the observation in question. But the relative value of these methods and of transits of Venus was a subject on which little light could be thrown; and the rarity of the latter phenomena naturally excited universal interest, both among the astronomers and among the public. For the purpose in question it was necessary to send expeditions to different and distant parts of the globe, because the result had to depend upon the times of the phases, as seen from widely separated stations.

In 1869 the question what stations should be occupied and what observations should be made was becoming the subject of discussion in Europe, and especially in England. But our country was still silent on the subject. The result of continued silence was not hard to foresee. Congress would, at the last moment, make a munificent appropriation for sending out parties to observe the transit.

The plans and instruments would be made in a hurry, and the parties packed off without any well-considered ideas of what they were to do; and the whole thing would end in failure so far as results of any great scientific value were concerned.

I commenced the discussion by a little paper on the subject in the "American Journal of Science," but there was no one to follow it up.

So, at the spring meeting of the National Academy of Sciences, in 1870, I introduced a resolution for the appointment of a committee to consider the subject and report upon the observations which should be made. This resolution was adopted, and a few days afterward Professor Henry invited me to call at his office in the evening to discuss with himself and Professor Peirce, then superintendent of the Coast Survey, the composition of the committee.

At the conference I began by suggesting Professor Peirce himself for chairman. Naturally this met with no opposition; then I waited for the others to go on. But they seemed determined to throw the whole onus of the matter on me. This was the more embarrassing, because I believe that, in parliamentary law and custom, the mover of a resolution of this sort has a prescribed right to be chairman of the committee which he proposes shall be appointed. If not chairman, it would seem that he ought at any rate to be a member.

But I was determined not to suggest myself in any way, so I went on and suggested Admiral Davis. This nomination was, of course, accepted without hesitation. Then I remarked that the statutes of the academy permitted of persons who were not members being invited to serve on a committee, and as the Naval Observatory would naturally take a leading part in such observations as were to be made, I suggested that its superintendent, Admiral Sands, should be invited to serve as a member of the committee. "There," said Peirce, "we now have three names.

Committees of three are always the most efficient. Why go farther?"

I suggested that the committee should have on it some one practiced in astronomical observation, but he deemed this entirely unnecessary, and so the committee of three was formed. I did not deem it advisable to make any opposition at the time, because it was easy to foresee what the result would be.

During the summer nothing was heard of the committee, and in the autumn I made my first trip to Europe. On my return, in May, 1871, I found that the committee had never even held a meeting, and that it had been enlarged by the addition of a number of astronomers, among them myself. But, before it went seriously to work, it was superseded by another organization, to be described presently.

At that time astronomical photography was in its infancy. Enough had been done by Rutherfurd to show that it might be made a valuable adjunct to astronomical investigation. Might we not then photograph Venus on the sun's disk, and by measurements of the plates obtain the desired result, perhaps better than it could be obtained by any kind of eye observation? This question had already suggested itself to Professor Winlock, who, at the Cambridge Observatory, had designed an instrument for taking the photographs. It consisted of a fixed horizontal telescope, into which the rays of the sun were to be thrown by a reflector. This kind of an instrument had its origin in France, but it was first practically applied to photographing the sun in this country. As whatever observations were to be made would have to be done at governmental expense, an appropriation of two thousand dollars was obtained from Congress for the expense of some preliminary instruments and investigations.

Admiral Sands, superintendent of the observatory, now took an active part in the official preparations. It was suggested to him, on the part of the academy committee, that it would be well to join hands with other organizations, so as to have the whole affair carried on with unity and harmony. To this he assented.

The result was a provision that these and all other preparations for observing the transit of Venus should be made under the direction of a commission to be composed of the superintendent of the Naval Observatory, the superintendent of the United States Coast Survey, the president of the National Academy of Sciences, and two professors of mathematics attached to the Naval Observatory. Under this provision the commission was constituted as follows: Commodore B. F. Sands, U. S. N., Professor Benjamin Peirce, Professor Joseph Henry, Professor Simon Newcomb, Professor William Harkness.

The academy committee now surrendered its functions to the commission, and the preparations were left entirely in the hands of the latter.

So far as scientific operations were concerned, the views of the commission were harmonious through the whole of their deliberations.

It was agreed from the beginning that the photographic method offered the greatest promise of success. But how, with what sort of instruments, and on what plan, must the photographs be taken?

Europeans had already begun to consider this question, and for the most part had decided on using photographic telescopes having no distinctive feature specially designed for the transit. In fact, one might almost say that the usual observations with the eye were to be made on the photograph instead of on the actual sun.

The American commissioners were of opinion that this would lead to nothing but failure, and that some new system must be devised.

The result was a series of experiments and trials with Professor Winlock's instrument at the Cambridge Observatory. The outcome of the matter was the adoption of his plan, with three most important additions, which I shall mention, because they may possibly yet be adopted with success in other branches of exact astronomy if this telescope is used, as it seems likely it may be.

The first feature was that the photographic telescope should be mounted exactly in the meridian, and that its direction should be tested by having the transit instrument mounted in front of it, in the same line with it. In this way the axis of the telescope was a horizontal north and south line.

The next feature was that, immediately in front of the photographic plate, in fact as nearly in contact with it as possible without touching it, a plumb line of which the thread was a very fine silver wire should be suspended, the bob of which passed down below, and was immersed in a vessel of water to prevent vibration. In this way the direction of the north and south line on the plate admitted of being calculated with the greatest exactness, and the plumb line being photographed across the disk of the sun, the position angle could be measured with the same precision that any other measure could be made.

The third feature was that the distance between the photographic plate and the object glass of the telescope should be measured by a long iron rod which was kept in position above the line of sight of the telescope itself. This afforded the means of determining to what angle a given measure on the plate would correspond.

The whole arrangement would enable the position of the centre of Venus with respect to the centre of the sun to be determined by purely geometric methods. One reason for relying entirely on this was that the diameter of the sun, as photographed, would be greater the greater the intensity of the photographic impression, so that no reliance could be placed upon its uniformity.

Ours were the only parties whose photographic apparatus was fitted up in this way. The French used a similar system, but without the essentials of the plumb line and the measurement of the length of the telescope. The English and Germans used ordinary telescopes for the purpose.

One of the earliest works of the commission was the preparation and publication of several papers, which were published under the general title, "Papers relating to the Transit of Venus in 1874."

The first of these papers was a discussion of our proposed plan of photographing, in which the difficulties of the problem, and the best way of surmounting them, were set forth. The next, called Part II., related to the circumstances of the transit, and was therefore entirely technical. Part III. related to the corrections of Hansen's table of the moon, and was published as a paper relating to the transit of Venus, because these corrections were essential in determining the longitudes of the stations by observations of the moon.

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