Das volle, warme Gefühl meines Herzens an der lebendigen Natur, das mich mit so vieler Wonne überströmte, das rings umher die Welt mir zu einem Paradiese schuf, wird mir jetzt zu einem unerträglichen Peiniger, zu einem quälenden Geist, der mich auf allen Wegen verfolgt. Wenn ich sonst vom Felsen über den Fluß bis zu jenen Hügeln das fruchtbare Tal überschaute und alles um mich her keimen und quellen sah; wenn ich jene Berge, vom Fuße bis auf zum Gipfel, mit hohen, dichten Bäumen bekleidet, jene Täler in ihren mannigfaltigen Krümmungen von den lieblichsten Wäldern beschattet sah, und der sanfte Fluß zwischen den lispelnden Rohren dahingleitete und die lieben Wolken abspiegelte, die der sanfte Abendwind am Himmel herüberwiegte; wenn ich dann die Vögel um mich den Wald beleben hörte, und die Millionen Mückenschwärme im letzten roten Strahle der Sonne mutig tanzten, und ihr letzter zuckender Blick den summenden Käfer aus seinem Grase befreite, und das Schwirren und Weben um mich her mich auf den Boden aufmerksam machte, und das Moos, das meinem harten Felsen seine Nahrung abzwingt, und das Geniste, das den dürren Sandhügel hinunter wächst, mir das innere, glühende, heilige Leben der Natur eröffnete: wie faßte ich das alles in mein warmes Herz, fühlte mich in der überfließenden Fülle wie vergöttert, und die herrlichen Gestalten der unendlichen Welt bewegten sich allbelebend in meiner Seele.
Must it be like this, that what is man’s great delight becomes what is the greatest hurt?
That ardent and great feeling in my heart for the living Nature, which so overcame me with rapture, that the world became a Paradise, now is an unendurable pain, a tormenting spirit that flies with me all over. When I seen from the cliff, across the river to the hilltops there, bringing fertility and new life, when I saw the mountains, wearing foot to peak the think and strong trees, and the turning valleys shaded by the most joyous wood, and there the river flowing gently among the whispering reeds and reflecting the beautiful clouds that a softer breeze wafts across the heavens; and when I heard the birds caroling in that forest all about, and millions of insects danced their drunken dance in the last red ray of sunlight, and a final setting ray summoned the humming beetle from its grassy retreat, and the swimming sound made me study the ground, where that moss gathered its life from the rocks, and the heath grows on dead sand, revealing to me the inner, sacred warmth of the life of Nature - in these times, how ardently my heart held it all: I was as if I had been deified in that fullness of overwhelming abundance, and the totality of the unending world moved my soul, giving it life.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Die Leiden des jungen Werther Letter of August 18th
Galle continued his observations, but Foerester glid across the floor, tapped Auwers on the shoulder, and the two descended down the stairs. Foerster was abrupt in beginning the conversation.
“With men such as Galle and d’Arrest speaking well of you, it was disappointing not to have you on staff here.”
Auwers did not quite know how to handle it. He was aware of the fact that he was not a practiced political animal, in a city where he had heard chatter of little else in the café’s and had felt the undercurrent of the “Iron Chancellor” everywhere and in every discussion. Military metaphors had become the standard, replacing poetry and music as the source of people’s understanding.
“I can only say that their accomplishments far overshadow what I will every do – after all, how many planets are discovered?”
“They reached down into the wider stair well, after passing through the large doorway that separated the observatory from the main building.
“I was very fortunate when our other astronomer took ill to be able to get Johann Gottfried to come and help. He is a marvel of industry and ability.”
“There are rumors that…”
Foerester at this point turned to the younger man. “Don’t deal in rumors. It is war that is brought by rumor, it is politics that strikes its coin with them.”
Auwers was struck by the forthrightness of the statement and the sentiments.
“Of course,” Foerester continued, “all of this, for the time, must be between you and I, my position here is new, and not yet secure. I hope to make building the astronomical community in Berlin my life’s work. But first I must be settled.”
Auwers mentally shook himself, the way a cat turns away from a puff of breathe. “I don’t follow.”
“Secrets, the world is built on secrets. Secrets, in the case of science, not to keep people out, but to maintain reputation and credibility. We have secrets here, because we are protecting the reputation of a great man, the founder of this observatory, and one who has put German astronomical observation on the world stage.”
“Encke.” Auwers managed to gasp out.
“Yes, my predecessor and among the most dedicated men who ever lived. Which is why this particular subject is important to remain secret for the time being: there is a gross error in the published value for the solar parallax.”
Auwers nodded, he had read Hansen’s 1862 announcement which cast doubt on it. “Errors occur, and are corrected. Why is this one more particular, and it certainly is not secret.”
“Because there was a better number available that was suppressed.”
“By Encke? That would be incredible.”
“No, not by him, but because of him.”
They had by this point reached long oblong shaped office with a high ceiling, from which were hung globes of the moon and earth. Along with charts on the far wall, two walls of bookshelves and several large windows. The desk was orderly, but overflowing with books and papers. Foerester lit a pair of lamps, and then settled down in his desk.
“Encke’s reduction of the observations was in error, and, indeed, I have myself checked the values, and found that it is considerably larger based on his own observations.”
Auwers settled himself into a seat, and found himself most comfortable when could could partially lounge into its heavy springs. It was a new style of chair, different from the more austere wood frames that he remembered from his childhood. He was not quite sure whether it was appropriate to be so opulent.
Foerester, noticing his discomfort pointed at a wooden backed chair. “That one was a gift.” Auwers was delighted to sit in the straight backed chair, and held himself more erect in it.
“The reason his value was accepted was political, and to cover over another problem. Namely with the observations of Jupiter.”
Auwers simply said “Yes, yes” – which is to say, “go on”.
“You know d’Arrest, and through him LeVerrier?.”
“Tangentially. But yes.”
“Encke’s error relates to him. You see, you were brought here because of your skill in the Heliograph, I need you to undiscover a planet. His planet.”
“Undiscover? You mean Neptune?”
“I mean Vulcan.”