CHAPTER EIGHT
METEOR STREAMS
Whence come these uncounted millions of bodies, rushing through space with inconceivable velocity? What purpose do they fulfill in the economy of the solar system? Are they the chips in the great workshop of Nature, the sparks which have flown from the mighty grindstone, the shreds of clay which the giant potters, Attraction and Repulsion, have cast aside as useless?
—R. A. PROCTOR.
So far, we have traced the story of comets and meteors, and theories concerning their origin, but there still remains the fascinating chapter regarding those meteor streams which cross the earth’s path in uncounted thousands and at regular intervals. For instance there are the great November showers unsurpassed by any, except perhaps the August meteor system. From recent investigations it has been shown that the independent particles of which these systems are composed form part of a great throng moving in orderly paths around the sun. They have proved their right to a place in the “obedient family” which Copernicus recognized as forming the solar system. In those days meteors were regarded as a species of exhalation from the earth and consumed during some processes of change in the upper regions of the atmosphere. Later on, they had attained to the rank of volcanic missiles ejected from the moon, and ascending still higher they were said to be stones falling from the sky, not only on land, but “in the great sea, where they remained concealed.”
It was not until the impressive meteoric shower of 1833 that suspicions were aroused concerning a connection between these apparently erratic wanderers in the sky and comets. When Professors Twining and Olmsted of New Haven, U. S. A., observed that the paths of all the meteors during the November shower of 1833 could be traced back to what is termed a “radiant,” and Olmsted went so far as to call the densest part of the swarm a “comet,” these objects attained a new interest in the astronomical world. Olmsted and Twining were the first to show that the meteors are not terrestrial and atmospheric, but bodies truly cosmical.
Could Kepler and Copernicus have revisited the former scene of their labors and listened to the discussions concerning the theories advanced in connection with comets and meteors during the latter part of the nineteenth century, they would scarcely have recognized the scheme of the solar system thus unfolded to their view! Not only has the claim of meteorites to membership in that system been firmly established, but the definite seasons for their appearance, and the well-known orbits along which certain meteor streams travel, can now be confidently predicted by astronomers. It is true, unfortunate circumstances may cause delay, as in the case of the failure of the expected return of the November meteor-shower in 1899, November 14–15, but this was undoubtedly due to the disturbing influence of Jupiter and Saturn.
However, there could be no delay and consequent disappointment at the return of this meteor swarm in 1833, which was not only totally unexpected, but furnished a scene of such splendor that words fail to convey an idea of its impressive character. We are told, by those who were so fortunate as to witness it, that the meteors fell as thickly as snowflakes. My father used to relate the following story regarding one of the planters of South Carolina who gave a most impressive account of the consternation caused among the negroes on this occasion. To quote the words of the planter:
“I was suddenly awakened by the most distressing cries that ever fell on my ears. Shrieks of horror and cries for mercy I could hear from most of the negroes of the three plantations, amounting in all to about six or eight hundred. While earnestly listening for the cause, I heard a faint voice near the door calling my name. I arose and, taking my sword, stood at the door.
“At this moment I heard the same voice still beseeching me to rise, assuring me that the world was on fire. I then opened the door, and it is difficult to say which excited me the most, the awfulness of the scene or the distressed cries of the negroes. Upward of a hundred lay prostrate on the ground, some speechless and some giving utterance to the bitterest cries. With hands upraised, they implored God to save the world and them. The scene was truly awful, for never did rain fall much thicker than the meteors fell towards the earth—east, west, north and south, it was the same.”
Renewed interest was taken in the subject as the year 1866 drew near, for Professor Newton of New Haven, U. S. A., had found, after a careful examination of records in 1864, that there had been a number of great autumnal meteoric star-showers separated by periods of about thirty-three years. As a result of his investigations, he predicted that a shower would occur in 1866, and conjectured that the path along which the meteor stream would travel might have one of five different orbits; one with a period of thirty-three and a quarter years, two with periods of one year plus or minus eleven days, and two with periods of half a year plus or minus five and a half days.
Professor John Couch Adams, with the same patience and accuracy which had enabled him to discover the planet Neptune, concentrated all his efforts in tracing by means of the most laborious calculations the disturbing effects of the planets upon the November meteor stream in connection with each of the five orbits suggested by Newton. He came to the conclusion that the true orbit must be the largest, _viz._, the one having a period of thirty-three and a quarter years. Accordingly, he confirmed the prediction that the meteoric shower was due to return in 1866, and not only was that prediction confirmed, but the meteor stream was seen again in 1867, the procession stretching out along the orbit for such a distance that it required three years to pass a given point.
Unfortunately, as far as Professor Newton and his fellow-countrymen in America were concerned, they were unable to witness the wonderful display, for on this occasion it favored our side of the world. In other words, the encounter between the earth and the dense part of the meteor stream which had caused such a spectacular display in 1833, preceded the time predicted for it only by the brief interval separating the successive passages of England and America across a given rotation space.
“If we imagine that from some distant orb, a being were watching the event, knowing the nature of Newton’s prediction and uncertain as to the result, then this being would have seen the meteor swarm rushing onwards to the scene of encounter on the one part, and the earth sweeping towards the same point on the other. He could see that all over Europe and the western parts of Asia, and in a less degree over the foreshortened Atlantic, the meteors were already falling, the display would grow richer and richer, but after a while it would diminish in splendor. Finally, just as America began to show on the exposed hemisphere, the encounter would come to an end, the earth passing onwards to the relatively barren portions lying beyond the meteor orbit.” (R. A. Proctor, _The Orbs Around Us_, pp. 180–181.)
Such was the occurrence which astonished the world on the nights of November 13–14, 1866, according to Sir Robert Ball’s experience, which he has portrayed in such vivid language in _The Story of the Heavens_:
“The night was fine; the moon was absent. The meteors were distinguished not only by their enormous multitude, but by their intrinsic magnificence. I shall never forget that night. On the memorable evening, I was engaged in my usual duty at that time of observing nebulæ with Lord Rosse’s great reflecting telescope. I was of course aware that a shower of meteors had been predicted, but nothing that I had heard prepared me for the splendid spectacle so soon to be unfolded. It was about ten o’clock at night when an exclamation from an attendant by my side made me look up from the telescope, just in time to see a fine meteor dash across the sky. It was presently followed by another, and then again by others in twos and in threes, which showed that the prediction of a great shower was likely to be verified.
“At this time, the Earl of Rosse (then Lord Oxmantown) joined me at the telescope, and after a brief interval we decided to cease our observations of the nebulæ and ascend to the top of the wall of the great telescope, from whence a clear view of the whole hemisphere of the heavens could be obtained. There, for the next three or four hours, we witnessed a spectacle which can never fade from my memory. The shooting stars gradually increased in number until sometimes several were seen at once. Sometimes they swept over our heads, sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left, but they all diverged from the east. All the tracks of the meteors radiated from Leo.
“Sometimes a meteor appeared to come almost directly towards us, and then its path was so foreshortened that it had hardly any appreciable length, and looked like an ordinary fixed star swelling into brilliancy and then as rapidly vanishing. Occasionally luminous trains would linger on for many minutes after the meteor had flashed across, but the great majority of the trains in this shower were evanescent. It would be impossible to say how many thousands of meteors were seen, each one of which was bright enough to have elicited a note of admiration on any ordinary night.”
Soon after the remarkable display of meteors in 1866, Schiaparelli of Milan, whose interest had been aroused by the researches of Newton and Adams, published a paper upon the Perseids, or August meteors, in which he drew attention to the fact that they were moving in the same path as that of the bright comet of 1862, known as Tuttle’s comet. Shortly after this Leverrier published his orbit of the Leonid meteors derived from the observed position of the radiant (within the sickle-shaped group of stars in Leo), in connection with the periodic time assigned by Adams; and almost simultaneously, but without any idea of a connection between them, Oppolzer published his orbit of Tempel’s comet of 1866, and the two orbits were at once seen to be practically identical.
Now a _single_ case of such a coincidence as that pointed out by Schiaparelli might possibly be accidental, but hardly _two_. Then five years later in 1872 came the meteoric shower of the Bielids, the disintegrated particles following in the track of Biela’s comet, and since then scores of meteor streams have been apparently detected with “a comet annexed,” firmly establishing the theory regarding the connection between comets and meteor streams as a well-proved fact.
The longer a comet has been in the solar system, the more widely scattered will be its accompanying meteor stream. According to this theory, the Perseids which are scattered more or less uniformly along their orbit of enormous extent ranging far beyond the orbit of the outermost planet Neptune, are undoubtedly old inhabitants of the solar system. The Leonids, on the contrary, are comparatively newcomers introduced into the solar system (according to the calculations of Leverrier, and admitting the capture theory, though the ejection theory is far more plausible), in A.D. 126, when Tempel’s comet, of which they formed part, passed very near Uranus.
Since the mystery regarding these celestial wanderers has been cleared, it might almost seem as if every comet of distinction had its own special host of meteoric attendants following closely in its wake, their number constantly increased by the addition of discarded fragments forming the train of the comet at each visit paid by it to the sun. The following is a list compiled by Mr. W. F. Denning of the chief meteoric displays of the year.
══════════════╤════════════════╤═══════════╤═══════════════════════════ _Name of │ _Date of │ _Radiant │ _Appearance of meteors_ shower_ │ maximum_ │ point_ │ ──────────────┼────────────────┼───────────┼─────────────────────────── │ │ R.A. Dcl. │ Quadrantids │January 3 │ 230° + 52°│Slowish, long paths Lyrids │April 21 │ 270° + 33°│Swift, streaks η Aquarids │May 2–6 │ 338° − 2°│Swift, very long paths Draconids │June 28 │ 228° + 54°│Very slow, short paths δ Aquarids │July 28–30 │339° − 120°│Slow, long paths α Capricornids│July 25-August 4│ 303° − 10°│Very slow, brilliant, long Perseids │August 11 │ 45° + 57°│Swift, streaks Orionids │October 19 │ 92° + 15°│Swift, streaks Leonids │November 14–15 │ 151° + 23°│Very swift, streaks Andromedids │November 17–27 │ 25° + 44°│Very slow, short, trained Geminids │December 11–12 │ 110° + 33°│Swift, white, short paths ──────────────┴────────────────┴───────────┴───────────────────────────
The _Lyrids_ are connected with Comet 1861 I, having a period of about 415 years.
The _Perseids_ are connected with Comet 1862 III, having a period of about 120 years.
The _Leonids_ are connected with Comet 1866 I, having a period of 33⅓ years.
The _Bielids_, or _Andromedids_, are connected with Biela’s comet, and have a period of 6¾ years.
We are now aware of meteor streams which at certain stated intervals, cross the earth’s orbit. They are regular visitors for which we may watch with every certainty that a few, if not thousands, will be captured by too near an approach to the atmospheric net encircling our planet. The whole of the solar domain may be alive with meteors, but by no possibility can we become aware of their presence until they take the fatal plunge which ultimately causes their destruction. The space actually traversed by the earth in its journey around the sun, is but the minutest fraction of that vast sphere over which the sun holds sway,
“yet it has been estimated by Professor Newcomb of America, on grounds which are perfectly reliable, that in including telescopic meteors (that is, meteors so small as only to be visible when they happen to pass across the field of view of a telescope), no less than 146,000 millions of meteoric bodies fall each year upon the earth. If one in a thousand struck a human being the inhabitants of the earth would be decimated in a single year.” (R. A. Proctor, _The Expanse of Heaven_, p. 164.)
Fortunately for us, the earth is protected by the surrounding air, which offers a most effective resistance to the swift motion of the celestial missiles with which it is bombarded from above. The swifter their motion, the more effective the resistance.
When meteors are first seen they are mostly at a height of seventy miles, vanishing at a height of about fifty miles. But the actual course they pursue through the air is nearly always much longer, because they do not descend vertically, but aslant.
Mr. Denning remarks, in his account of meteors for _Splendour of the Heavens_, “there are comparatively few astronomers, either professional or amateur, who cultivate the meteoric branch. They evidently do not regard it as an attractive study. In any case, it does not appeal to them sufficiently to enlist their sympathies, and so it has been comparatively neglected in recent years. A few ardent observers have, it is true, continued to devote themselves to the subject,” and he cites instances where two English ladies, Miss A. Grace Cook, director of the Meteoric Section of the B. A. A., in 1922, and the late Mrs. Fiammetta Wilson, endeavored to arouse more enthusiasm in this field of work by both practical example and advice. As an instance of the splendid enthusiasm of the latter, she has to her credit for meteoric observations carried on during an interval of ten years, the record of about ten thousand meteors. This is an average of a thousand a year, and anyone who has attempted to keep a steady watch on a starlit night in the hope of observing an evanescent meteor will realize what such a record means. It must have required an immense amount of patience, endurance, and untiring vigilance, for the wily meteor is so apt to take us unawares.
The writer has had but one experience of the kind, and it was upon the occasion of the expected display of Leonids in 1899. The night was extremely cold, as one might expect during the month of November, when with two friends, Miss Harpham and Miss Tarbox, I stationed myself on the roof of an apartment house in New York City, on November 15, at 12.55. The record of our observations, which were continued until 6.00 A.M. at the hour of dawn, was afterward printed in _Popular Astronomy_, Vol. IX, 1901, pp. 82–83. During that time we observed sixty-eight meteors, of which, as the account shows, a few were intruders.
Never was dawn so welcome to the weary observers, who were not nearly so much chilled by the November weather, as by the disappointment at the meager display. Possibly the bright moonlight in the earlier part of the watch had dimmed the splendor of many of the Leonids, but where were the tens of thousands which were said to have fallen in 1833, or even the thousands which were observed in 1866, for not even one hundred rewarded us for our vigil in 1899? However, we were told to watch again the following year, when possibly we might meet with better luck, but our record as given in _Popular Astronomy_, Vol. IX, 1901, shows that only forty-four meteors were seen between midnight and dawn, and of these, seven were intruders. The cause of the failure of the return of the Leonids in 1899 was due to the fact that the planet Jupiter had so much disturbed the orbit of the meteor group of 1866, that from calculations made it was estimated that it would pass about two millions of miles outside of the earth’s orbit, and thus escape collision with our atmosphere. For this reason, few meteors were seen in 1899 and 1900, though in 1901 and 1903 pretty brisk showers of Leonids were visible, though they were nothing like the magnificent displays of 1799, 1833, and 1866. A new shower derived from Pons-Winnecke’s periodical comet was witnessed from Bristol on June 28, 1916. A very brilliant and abundant return of this display may occur during the last week of June, 1927, when the earth and comet will be exceedingly near each other.
The following suggestions may be helpful to those who may feel inclined to make a hobby of recording meteors which are far more plentiful (quite a number making their appearance on any clear night) than comets, which are, comparatively speaking, rare visitors. Practically no appliances of any kind are required. The main essential is a knowledge of the various constellations and of the stars visible to the naked eye, a knowledge soon acquired by a study of some good atlas of the heavens, such as my father’s _Half Hours with the Stars_. This contains twelve charts, one for each month of the year, with accompanying letter press.
A beginner generally finds great difficulty in locating the beginning and ending of the course of a meteor, as these seldom occur close to any well-known star. It will always be found useful to have a straight rod about four feet long. This should be held up so that it seems to lie along the path of the meteor. A rapid glance along the rod, backward and forward, will generally be sufficient to enable one to detect some stars within the radius of a circle. The beginning and ending of the trail of the meteors can then be recorded, as the eye easily estimates the length of the arc between various points of the heavens. In this way one records the observation made—let us say, at 4.39, for November 15, 1899. The direction followed by the meteor was from the radiant toward Castor and Pollux, the streak remaining visible for three seconds. The meteor was very bright, meaning that it equaled a first-magnitude star, and the train was 5° in length. Though the color was not recorded at the time, yet it is possible to make a very sure guess, that it was blue, the usual color of Leonids.
It is not advisable to look for meteors very far from the radiant, as that is the main point from which they are seen to emanate. Therefore, it will be sufficient to confine the attention to a region within 30° to 40° from the radiant. Meteors appearing near the radiant have short trains, while those at a greater distance have generally longer trains. When a meteor is observed, the time, magnitude, beginning and ending of course, duration of flight, and any special characteristics should be recorded as quickly as possible, using a system of abbreviations. Possibly the writer, at the next display which is expected in 1933, may be prepared—with the assistance of a few enthusiasts—to carry out this elaborate program, but it is impossible for one or even three to make an accurate record of so many happenings regarding a meteor which may have remained on view but a second or so.
In judging the time of flight a stop-watch is very useful, but in the case of slow meteors it is easy to estimate the time approximately by counting at a certain rate, say 180 to the minute. The writer was told to recite a nursery rhyme at a certain pace, such as hickory-dickory-dock, and note the syllable or word uttered at disappearance of meteor, but in the case of the Leonids the word “hickory” had scarcely been uttered before the Leonid had vanished, so that the simpler method of counting “one, two, three,” was adopted, proving entirely satisfactory, when we remembered to count!
It might be a good idea, before making the observations, to mark off on the rod, with luminous paint or radium, such as is used with watches, 3°, the distance between the three stars in the belt of Orion; 5°, the distance between the pointers in Ursa Major; 10°, the distance from Alpha to Delta in the same group of stars; 15° from Delta through Alpha; and 26° from Alpha to Eta, at the extremity of the Bear’s tail, or the Dipper handle, according to the popular nomenclature used in America, where the seven stars of the Plough, or Charles’s Wain, are usually referred to as the Great Dipper.
Special attention should be given in recording very bright meteors or fireballs. In many cases fireballs may be seen by other persons, and the data supplied by any two observers situated at different places. Their combined observations are sufficient to determine the real path, radiant, etc., of the celestial object.
We have a fine illustration of this in the drift of a meteor trail which was observed by Mr. Denning at 7.33 P.M. on February 22, 1909, passing in a southwest direction over the northern coast of France. The luminous trail left in its wake persisted as a visible object for over two hours, during which time it drifted in a northwest direction at 120 miles an hour, under the influence of a violent wind in the upper atmosphere. As usual on every clear starlit night there are a number of enthusiastic observers keeping close watch of the sky, ready to trap with their cameras any unwary meteor which may flash into view. On this occasion there were at least 250 observers in different parts of the country watching the phenomenon during the whole two hours the meteor trail remained visible.
There is a branch of the British Astronomical Association which deals with records and observations of meteors, and it is known as the Meteor Section. “Mr. Denning has proved a faithful friend,” as Miss A. Grace Cook remarks in her report of the Section for 1922, “and has encouraged the Section in every possible way.” Sometime one of the enthusiastic observers in search of meteors may be rewarded by a discovery of larger prey, in the form of a comet. Imagine the delight of having a comet one could thus claim, as it were, as one’s own personal property!
Fireballs differ vastly from shooting stars in exposing a larger surface to the opposing atmosphere, as they make their downward plunge from space therein. It is when they suddenly come in contact with the particles of which the air surrounding our planet is composed, that their presence is first made known to us. When a shooting star finally blazes out, owing to the friction caused by the encounter, it is at a height of from thirty to fifty-five miles above the ground. It is then dissipated in vapor, and vanishes. No wonder these balls of fire caused terror among the ignorant and superstitious in the days when their meaning was unknown. In Mr. Denning’s book, _Telescopic Work for Starlight Evenings_, page 269, there is a drawing made by J. Plant of Salford, as an illustration, giving an excellent idea of the imposing aspect of a fireball, seen by this observer on November 23, 1877, as it emerged from behind a cloud. Judging from the date, it might have been one of the Bielids, provided its radiant was in the constellation Andromeda. It was, however, in Taurus.
Fireballs are usually silent, but sometimes they have been known to explode with a loud noise. The fireball which was observed (as above) in November, 1877, is said to have “given a sound like salvos of artillery, and doors and windows were violently shaken.” As a rule, however, there is no audible explosion, the bright nucleus fading out until it is reduced to a mere spark before disappearing.
Occasionally fireballs have been known to give out three or four brilliant flashes before fading from view. These flashes, often of startling intensity, have been described as “coming less swiftly than flashes of lightning.” They remind one forcibly of moonlight breaking through the clear intervals in passing clouds. There is always something mysterious about these luminous objects as they emerge so stealthily from the darkness, vanishing as silently as they came.
During the month of August fine meteoric displays may be looked for, between the 10th and 13th of that month. They are sometimes referred to as “the tears of St. Lawrence,” since the 10th of August is dedicated to the memory of that saint. However, they are more generally known as the Perseids, their radiant being in the constellation Perseus. As this group of stars has risen tolerably high about nine o’clock in the northeastern sky during the month of August, watching for Perseids is an easier matter than in the case of the Leonids, which do not appear at their best until “the wee sma’ hours.”
The meteors belonging to the Perseid family are yellow in color, moving at the rate of thirty-eight miles a second, as compared with the swift onrush of the November meteors at forty-four miles a second, the latter flashing into view with the rapidity of a skyrocket, and as swiftly disappearing. The Bielids, on the contrary, travel with medium velocity, their stately glide at ten miles per second, being in marked contrast to the speed of the Perseids or Leonids. The Bielids, also called the Andromedids, are due November 23–27, and, as already noted, may be seen to radiate from a point near Gamma in the constellation Andromeda. In the case of the Perseids, a few brilliant streaks often herald their approach, usually giving promise of an especially fine display. The August meteor showers yield the smallest shooting stars and the largest type of fireballs. Observers startled by the sudden appearance of the latter are rather apt to give exaggerated accounts of their appearance, neglecting to note the direction whence they came, the time or duration of their flight, and other necessary data, rendering the observations, in consequence, practically useless.
We now come to shooting stars, the kindergarten—as it were—of the meteoric system. Weighing practically but a few ounces at the most, they can be easily handled or put into one’s pocket without discomfort. Analysis of those which have sunk to rest on our planet, as a result of successfully penetrating right through the atmospheric net surrounding our domain, has shown that they are composed of iron and many of the chemical elements, such as sodium and carbon, which are to be found on the earth.
For vast periods of time they may have been pursuing a seemingly endless voyage along the highways and byways of the solar system, wending their way in safety amid the intricate paths traversed by the planets. They have been traveling at a speed far exceeding that of the swiftest cannon ball, and doubtless with an average velocity of about twenty-five miles a second. A shooting star moving at such a rate would pass from the earth to the moon in a couple of hours, or from London to Edinburgh in about ten seconds. All goes well with the little traveler as long as it keeps at a discreet distance from the aërial torpedo net surrounding our planet, seemingly set for the purpose of entrapping such intruders. However, should the shooting star venture too near, plunging through the atmosphere at the pace which kills, it is bound to come to grief. Rubbing against every particle it meets on the way, friction is caused, resulting in the blaze of glory which makes its presence known to us, swiftly followed by its exit when it is reduced to ashes.
Some of the particles, if any are left (for usually they are dissipated in vapor in the upper regions of the air), sift down upon our planet in the form of fine dust. From the top of a high mountain Dr. Reichenbach collected dust which had never been touched by spade or pick-ax; and in analysis he found this dust to consist of almost identically the same elements as those of which meteoric stones are composed—nickel, cobalt, iron, and phosphorus. Dr. Phipson, in his interesting work on _Meteors, Aërolites, and Shooting Stars_, remarks that
“when a glass covered with pure glycerine is exposed to a strong wind, late in November, it receives a number of _black angular particles_, which can be dissolved in strong hydrochloric acid, and produces yellow chloride of _iron_ upon the glass plate.”
It is a strange thought that the air which sifts in through the window, and settles on the tables and chairs, nay even the very air we breathe, may contain particles of matter which have at one time circled in meteoric form around the sun!
Should this be the case, and if, as Professor Newcomb, the American astronomer, tells us, no less than 146,000 million meteoric particles fall on the earth during the course of a year, may we not infer that this means an increase in its mass? In my father’s book, _The Orbs Around Us_ (page 195), he writes:
“If we assign a single grain as the weight of each meteor visible to the naked eye, we deduce fifteen millions of grains as the earth’s daily increase of weight. This is rather less than a ton. So that in the course of about three years the earth’s weight must increase (even on the very low value here assigned to a meteor’s weight) by a thousand tons; and in the course of the three thousand years during which astronomy has been a science the earth’s weight must have increased a million tons. This is a mere trifle compared with the earth’s own weight, which is 6,000 millions of millions of times greater. Indeed, it may easily be shown that the actual increase of the earth’s radius in this interval of 3,000 years, would be about the 70,000,000th part of an inch.”
From time immemorial legend and superstition have interwoven themselves around these small members of the solar system as they silently and swiftly sweep across the vault of heaven, vanishing mysteriously as though extinguished by some invisible hand. Dante describes them:
“As oft along the still and pure serene At nightfall glides a sudden trail of fire, Attracting with involuntary heed The eye to follow it, erewhile it rest And seems some star that shifted place in heaven.”
For the Oriental believer, the shooting stars are the fiery darts hurled by the angels at the evil spirits or genii when the latter are caught eavesdropping at the gates of heaven. This legend is to be found in the Koran, and is referred to by Moore in his “Paradise and the Peri,” in the lines:
“Fleeter than the starry brands Flung at night from angel hands, At those dark and daring sprites Who would climb th’ empyreal heights.”
According to a Lithuanian myth as told by Grimm in his _Deutsche Mythologie_, the spinstress Werpega spins the thread of a child’s life at birth, and each thread ends in a star. When death approaches, the thread breaks and the star falls to earth, quenching its light.
In Galicia, the province northeast of Hungary, the peasants believe that when a star falls to earth it is at once transformed into a rarely beautiful maiden with long, glittering, golden hair. She is supposed to exert a magical influence on all who come in contact with her, but the effect is evil unless certain words are uttered ere the star falls to earth. From this superstition doubtless springs the custom of “wishing” while a shooting star is seen gliding swiftly eastwards. The wish will surely come true, it is said, if fully expressed before the star fades from view. Finally, we have the fanciful idea suggested in the following lines by Fiona Macleod:
“A star was loosed from heaven; All saw it fall, in wonder, Where universe clashed universe With solar thunder.”