Chapter 21 of 35 · 4693 words · ~23 min read

CHAPTER XXI.

MORE ABOUT COMETS AND METEORITES.

The three prominent features of comets--a head, nucleus, and tail--are seen only in particular instances. The great majority appear as faint globular masses of vapor, with little or no central condensation, and without tails. On the other hand, some have a strongly-defined nucleus, which shines with a light as vivacious as that of the planets, so as to be even visible in the daytime. This was the case with one seen at Rome soon after the assassination of Julius Cæsar, believed by the populace to be the soul of the dictator translated to the skies. The first comet of the year 1442 was also so brilliant, that the light of the sun at noon, at the end of March, did not prevent it from being seen; and the second, which appeared in the summer, was visible for a considerable time before sunset. In 1532, the people of Milan were alarmed by the appearance of a star in the broad daylight; and as Venus was not then in a position to be visible, the object is inferred to have been a comet. Tycho Brahe discovered the comet of 1577, from his observatory in the isle of Huene, in the sound, before sunset; and Chizeaux saw the comet of 1744, at one o’clock in the afternoon, without a telescope.

The comet of 1843, already referred to in a previous chapter, was distinctly seen at noon by many persons in the streets of Bologna without the aid of glasses. The nucleus is generally of small size, but the surrounding nebulosity, which forms the head, is often of immense extent; and the hazy envelope, the “horrid hair” of poetry, is sometimes seen separated from it by a dark space, encircling it like a ring. This was the aspect of the comet of 1811. The entire diameter of the head measured 1,250,000 miles, and hence its bulk was nearly three times that of the sun, and four million times that of the earth. But such extraordinary dimensions are quite exceptional.

[Illustration: THE GREAT COMET OF 1811.]

Popular impressions respecting the supposed terrestrial effects of the comet of 1811--a fine object in the autumn of that year, long remembered by many--are on record. It was gravely noted, that wasps were very few in number; that flies became blind, and disappeared early; and that twins were born more frequently than usual. The season was remarkable for its bountiful harvest and abundant vintage. Grapes, figs, melons, and other fruits, were not only produced in extraordinary quantity, but of delicious flavor, so that “comet wines” had distinct bins allotted to them in the cellars of merchants, and were sold at high prices. There is, however, no fact better attested, by a comparison of observations, than that comets have no influence whatever in heightening or depressing the temperature of the seasons. The fine fruits and ample harvest of the year in question were, therefore, coincidences merely with the celestial phenomenon, without the slightest physical connection with it.

Though the advanced civilization of recent times has led to juster views of cometary apparitions than to regard them as divinely-appointed omens of terrestrial calamity, yet society is apt to be nervous respecting these bodies, as likely to cause some great natural convulsion by collision with our globe.

The great comet, which in 1682 received first the name of Halley’s comet, appeared last in 1835, his return having been foretold within three days of its actually taking place. For Halley’s comet is a member of the Solar System, having a yearly journey of seventy-six earthly years. He journeys nearer the sun than Venus, and travels farther away than Neptune.

In the years 1858, 1861, and 1862, three more comets appeared, all visible without the help of a telescope. Of these three, Donati’s comet, in 1858, was far superior to the rest. This fine object was first discovered on the 2d of June by Dr. Donati, at Florence. It appeared at first as a faint nebulous patch of light, without any remarkable condensation; and as its motion towards the sun at that time was slow, it was not till the beginning of September that it became visible to the naked eye. A short tail was then seen on the side opposite to the sun.

[Illustration: DONATI’S COMET, 1858.]

The development was afterwards rapid, and the comet became equally interesting to the professional astronomer and to the unlearned gazer. In the first week of October the tail attained its greatest length, 36°. At this time the tail was sensibly curved, and had the appearance of a large ostrich-feather when waved gently in the hand. At the latter end of October the comet was lost in the evening twilight. Its nearest approach to the earth was about equal to half the distance of the earth from the sun, and the nearest approach to Venus was about one-ninth part of that distance. An elliptical orbit, with a periodic time of more than 2,000 years, has been assigned to our late visitor.

It was a singular fact about this comet that at one time the star Arcturus could be seen shining through the densest portion of the tail, close to the nucleus. Now, although the faintest cloud-wreath of earth would dim, if not hide, this star, yet the tail of the great comet was of so transparent a nature that Arcturus shone undimmed, as if no veil had come between. The exceedingly slight and airy texture of a comet’s tail could hardly be more plainly shown. It was this gauzy appendage to a little nucleus which men once thought could destroy our solid earth at a single blow!

These cometary trains generally appear straight, or at least, by the effect of perspective, they seem to be directed along the arcs of great circles of the celestial sphere. Some are recorded, however, which presented a different appearance. Thus, in 1689, a comet was seen whose tail, according to the historians, was curved like a Turkish saber. This tail had a total length of 68°. It was the same with the beautiful comet of Donati, which we admired in 1858, and of which the tail had a very decided curvature.

A comet can only be observed in the sky for a limited time. We perceive it at first in a region where nothing was visible on preceding days. The next day, the third day, we see it again; but it has changed its place considerably among the constellations. We can thus follow it in the sky for a certain number of days, often during several months; then we cease to perceive it. Often the comet is lost to view because it approaches the sun, and the vivid light of that body hides it completely; but soon we observe it again on the other side of the sun, and it is not till some time afterwards that it definitely disappears. Some have been visible at noonday, quite near the sun, like that of 1882, on September 17th.

Yet, while taking care not to overrate, we must not underrate. True, the comets are delicate and slight in structure. One comet, in 1770, wandered into the very midst of Jupiter’s moons, and so small was its weight that it had no power whatever, so far as has been detected, to disturb the said moons in their orbits. Jupiter and his moons did very seriously disturb the comet, however; and when he came out from their midst, though none the worse for his adventure, he was forced to travel in an entirely new orbit, and never managed to get back to his old pathway again.

But there are comets _and_ comets, some being heavier than others. The comet named after Donati, albeit too transparent to hide a star, was yet so immense in size that his weight was calculated by one astronomer to amount to as much as a mass of water forty thousand miles square and one hundred and nine yards deep.

When first noticed, Donati’s comet had, like all large comets, a bright envelope of light round the nucleus. After a while the one envelope grew into three envelopes, and a new tail formed beside the principal tail, which for a time was seen to bend gracefully into a curve, like a splendid plume. A third, but much fainter tail, also made its appearance, and many angry-looking jets were poured out from the nucleus. These changes took place while the comet was passing through the great heat of near neighborhood to the sun. Afterwards, as he passed away, he seemed gradually to cool down and grow quiet. The singular changes in the appearance of Newton’s comet have been earlier noticed. No marvel that he did undergo some alterations. The tremendous glare and burning heat which that comet had to endure in his rush past the sun, were more than twenty-five thousand times as much as the glare and heat of the fiercest tropical noonday ever known upon earth. Can we wonder that he should have shown “signs of great excitement,” that his head should have grown larger and his tail longer?

It certainly was amazing, and past comprehension, that the said tail, over ninety millions of miles in length, should in four days have seemingly swept round in a tremendous half-circle, so as first to point in one direction, and then to point in just the opposite direction.

We are much in the habit of speaking about comets as traveling through the heavens with their tails streaming behind them. But though this is sometimes the case, it is by no means always.

The tails of comets always stream _away from the sun_--whether before or behind the comet’s head seeming to be a matter of indifference. As the comet comes hurrying along his orbit, with ever-increasing speed, towards the sun, the head journeys first, and the long tail follows after. But as the comet rounds the loop of his orbit near the sun--the point nearest of all being called his _perihelion_--the head always remains towards the sun, while the tail swings, or seems to swing, in a magnificent sweep round, pointing always in the direction just away from the sun.

Then, as the comet journeys with slackening speed, on the other side of his orbit, towards the distant _aphelion_, or farthest point from the sun, he still keeps his head towards the sun. So, at this part of his passage, in place of the head going first and the tail following after, the tail goes first and the head follows after. The comet thus appears to be moving backwards; or, like an engine pushing instead of drawing a train, the head seems to be driving the tail before it.

[Illustration: GREAT COMET OF 1744.]

[Illustration: THE FIRST COMET OF 1888--JUNE 4.]

The sun, then, acts on these bodies when they approach him, produces in them important physical and chemical transformations, and exercises on their developed atmosphere a repulsive force, the nature of which is still unknown to us, but the effects of which coincide with the formation and development of the tails. The tails are thus, in the extension of the cometary atmosphere, driven back, either by the solar heat, by the light, by electricity, or by other forces; and this extension is rather a motion in the ether than a real transport of matter, at least in the great comets which approach very near the sun, and in their immense luminous appendages. The effects produced and observed are not the same in all comets, which proves that they differ from each other in several respects. The tails have sometimes been seen to diminish before the perihelion passage, as in 1835. Luminous envelopes have also been seen succeeding each other round the head, concentrating themselves on the side opposite to the sun, and leaving the central line of the tail darker than the two sides. This is what happened in the Donati comet and in that of 1861. Sometimes a secondary tail has been seen projected towards the sun, as in 1824, 1850, 1851, and 1880. Comets have been seen with the head enveloped in phosphorescence, surrounding them with a sort of luminous atmosphere. Comets have also been seen with three, four, five, and _six tails_, like that of 1744, for example, which appeared like a splendid aurora borealis rising majestically in the sky, until, the celestial fan being raised to its full height, it was perceived that the six jets of light all proceeded from the same point, which was nothing else but the nucleus of a comet. On the other hand, the nuclei themselves show great variations--some appear simply nebulous, and permit the faintest stars to be visible through them; others seem to be formed of one or more solid masses surrounded by an enormous atmosphere; in others, again, a nucleus does not exist, as in the Southern comet of 1887. One of the comets of 1888 showed a triple nucleus and a bristling coma, as may be seen in the cut. We may, then, consider that the wandering bodies collected under the name of comets are of several origins and _several different species_.

_Why_ the tails of comets should so persistently avoid the sun it is impossible to say. We do not even know whether the cause lies actually in the sun or in the comet. Astronomers speak of the “repulsive energy” with which the sun “sweeps away” from his neighborhood the light vapory matter of which the tails are made. But the how and the wherefore of this strange seeming repulsion they can not explain. For at the selfsame time the sun appears to be attracting the comet towards himself, and driving the comet’s tail away from himself.

A few of the more well-known comets have been mentioned; but a year rarely passes in which at least one comet is not discovered, though often only a small specimen, sometimes even tailless and hairless. No doubt many others pass unseen. The large and grand ones only come to view now and then.

What are comets and meteorites made of? Respecting comets, a good many ideas are put forth, and a good many guesses are made, as to “burning gas,” “luminous vapor,” “beams of light,” and so on. But in truth, little is known about the matter. Respecting meteorites, we can speak more certainly. A good many meteorites have fallen to earth as aerolites, and have been carefully examined. They are found to contain nickel, cobalt, iron, phosphorus, and sometimes at least, a large supply of hydrogen gas.

Not only do solid aerolites fall half-burnt to the ground, but even when the meteorites are quite consumed in the air, the fine dust remaining still sinks earthward. This fine dust has been found upon mountain-tops, and has been proved by close examination to be precisely the same as the material of the solid aerolites.

A luminous body of sensible dimensions rapidly traverses space, diffusing on all sides a vivid light--like a globe of fire of which the apparent size is often comparable with that of the moon. This body usually leaves behind it a perceptible luminous train. On or immediately after its appearance it often produces an explosion, and sometimes even several successive explosions, which are heard at great distances. These explosions are also often accompanied by the division of the globe of fire into luminous fragments, more or less numerous, which seem to be projected in different directions. This phenomenon constitutes what is called a _meteor_, properly speaking, or a _bolide_. It is produced during the day as well as the night. The light which it causes in the former case is greatly enfeebled by the presence of the solar light, and it is only when it is developed with sufficient intensity that it can be perceived.

In the British Museum there is a superb collection of meteorites. They have been brought together from all parts of the earth, and vary in size from bodies not much larger than a pin’s-head up to vast masses weighing many hundred pounds. There are also many models of celebrated meteorites, of which the originals are dispersed through various other museums.

Many of these objects have nothing very remarkable in their external appearance. If they were met with on the sea-beach, they would be passed by without more notice than would be given to any other stone. Yet what a history such a stone might tell us if we could only manage to obtain it! It fell; it was seen to fall from the sky; but what was its course anterior to that movement? Where was it one hundred years ago, one thousand years ago? Through what regions of space has it wandered? Why did it never fall before? Why has it actually now fallen? Such are some of the questions which crowd upon us as we ponder over these most interesting bodies. Some of these objects are composed of very characteristic materials. Take, for example, one of the more recent meteorites, known as the Rowton siderite. This body differs very much from the more ordinary kind of stony meteorite. It is an object which even a casual passer-by would hardly pass without notice. Its great weight would also attract attention, while if it be scratched or rubbed with a file, it would be found that it was not in any sense a stone, but that it was a mass of nearly pure iron. We know the circumstances under which that piece of iron fell to the earth. It was on the 20th of April, 1876, about 3.40 P. M., that a strange rumbling noise, followed by a startling explosion, was heard over an area of several miles in extent among the villages in Shropshire. About an hour after this occurrence, a farmer noticed the ground in one of his grass-fields to have been disturbed, and he probed the hole which the meteorite had made, and found it, still warm, about eighteen inches below the surface. Some men working at no great distance had actually heard the noise of its descent, but without being able to indicate the exact locality. This remarkable object weighs 7¾ pounds. It is an irregular angular mass of iron, though all its edges seem to have been rounded by fusion in its transit through the air, and it is covered with a thick black film of the magnetic oxide of iron, except at the point where it first struck the ground.

This siderite is specially interesting on account of its distinctly metallic character. Falls of the siderites, as they are called, are not so common as those of the stony meteorites; in fact, there are only a few known instances of meteoric irons having been actually seen to fall, while the falls of stony meteorites are to be counted in scores or in hundreds. The inference is that the iron meteorites are much less frequent than the stony ones.

It is a wonderful thought that we should really have these visitants from the sky, solid metal or showers of dust, coming to us from distant space.

If the dust of thousands of meteorites is always thus falling earthward, one would imagine that it must in time add something to the weight of the earth. And this actually is the case. During the last three thousand years, no less than one million tons of meteorite-dust must, according to calculation, have fallen to earth out of the sky. A million tons is of course a mere nothing compared with the size of the world. Still, the fact is curious and interesting.

It has been suggested that, _perhaps_ the flames of the sun are partly fed by vast showers of falling meteorites. It has even been suggested that _perhaps_, in long past ages, the earth and the planets grew to their present size under a tremendous downpour of meteorites; the numbers which now drop to earth being merely the thin remains of what once existed. But for this guess there is no real foundation.

Whether suns and worlds full-grown, created as in an instant; whether tiny meteorites in countless myriads to be used as stones in “building;” whether vast masses of flaming gas, to be gradually cooled and “framed” into shape--which ever may have come first, and whichever may have been the order of God’s working--still that “first” was made by him; still he throughout was the Master-builder.

[Illustration: GREAT COMET OF 1680.]

A few words more about “comet-visitors.” Many comets, as already stated, belong to our Solar System, though whether they have always so belonged is another question. It is not impossible that they may once upon a time have wandered hence from a vast distance, and, being caught prisoner by the powerful attraction of Jupiter or one of his three great brother-planets, have been compelled thenceforth to travel in a closed pathway round the sun.

[Illustration: GREAT COMET OF 1769.]

There are also many comets which come once only to our system, flashing round past the sun, and rushing away in quite another direction, never to return. Where do these comets come from? And where do they go? From other suns--brother suns to ours? It may be. One is almost disposed to think that it must be so.

Do we ever think what an immense voyage they must have made to come from there to here? Do we imagine for how many years they must have flown through the dark immensity to plunge themselves into the fires of our sun? If we take into account the directions from which certain comets come to us, and if we assign to the stars situated in that region the least distances consistent with known facts, we find that these comets certainly left their last star more than _twenty millions of years ago_.

In thus putting to us from the height of their celestial apparitions so many notes of interrogation on the grandest problems of creation, comets assume to our eyes an interest incomparably greater than that with which superstition blindly surrounded them in past ages. When we reflect for a moment that a certain comet which shines before us in the sky came originally from the depths of the heavens, that it has traveled during millions of years to arrive here, and that consequently it is by millions of years that we must reckon its age if we wish to form any idea of it, we can not refrain from respecting this strange visitor as a witness of vanished eras, as an echo of the past, as the most ancient testimony which we have of the existence of matter. But what do we say? These bodies are neither old nor young. There is nothing old, nothing new--all is present. The ages of the past contemplate the ages of the future, which all work, all gravitate, all circulate, in the eternal plan. Musing, you look at the river which flows so gently at your feet, and you believe you see again the river of your childhood; but the water of to-day is not that of yesterday, it is not the same substance which you have before your eyes, and never, never shall this union of molecules, which you behold at this moment, come back there--never till the consummation of the ages!

If the appearance of comets forebodes absolutely nothing as to the microscopical events of our ephemeral human history, it is not the same with the effects which might be produced by their encounter with our wandering planet. In such an encounter there is nothing impossible. No law of celestial mechanics forbids that two bodies should come into collision in their course, be broken up, pulverized, and mutually reduced to vapor.

I have before described some of the tremendous outbursts seen on the surface of our sun. It is believed that in these outbursts matter is expelled, or driven forth, with such fearful violence as to send it whirling through space, never to fall back to the sun.

Some meteorites may have their births thus. So also may some comets. And if all the stars are suns--huge fiery globes like our sun, and subject like him to tremendous eruptions--they too, probably, send out comets and meteorites to wander through space. Whether or no comets come into existence in any such manner, one thing seems pretty certain. Those comets which come to us from outside our system must come from some other system. And the nearest systems known are those of the stars.

The nearest star of all, whose distance has been measured, is Alpha Centauri. It has been roughly calculated that a comet, passing direct from Alpha Centauri to our sun, would take about twenty millions of years for his journey. But here we tread upon very doubtful ground. Many matters, at present unknown to us, might greatly affect the result of such a calculation. Also it is by no means impossible that other stars lie really much nearer to us than Alpha Centauri, whose distance astronomers have not yet attempted to measure.

[Illustration: BARON ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT.]

“In order to complete our view,” says Alexander Von Humboldt, “of all that we have learned to consider as appertaining to our Solar System, which now, since the discovery of the small planets, of the interior comets of short revolutions, and of the meteoric asteroids, is so rich and complicated in its form, it remains for us to speak of the ring of zodiacal light. Those who have lived for many years in the zone of palms must retain a pleasing impression of the mild radiance with which the zodiacal light, shooting pyramidally upward, illumines a part of the uniform length of tropical nights. I have seen it shine with an intensity of light equal to the Milky Way in Saggitarius, and that not only in the rare and dry atmosphere of the summit of the Andes, at an elevation of from thirteen to fifteen thousand feet, but even on the boundless grassy plains of Venezuela, and on the seashore, beneath the ever-clear sky of Cumana. This phenomenon was often rendered especially beautiful by the passage of light, fleecy clouds, which stood out in picturesque and bold relief from the luminous background.

“This phenomenon, whose primordial antiquity can scarcely be doubted, is not the luminous solar atmosphere itself, which can not be diffused beyond nine-tenths of the distance of Mercury. With much probability we may regard the existence of a very compressed ring of nebulous matter, revolving freely in space around the sun between the orbits of Venus and Mars, as the material cause of the zodiacal light. These nebulous particles may either be self-luminous or receive their light from the sun.

“I have occasionally been astonished, in the tropical climates of South America, to observe the variable intensity of the zodiacal light. As I passed the nights, during many months, in the open air, on the shores of rivers and on plains, I enjoyed ample opportunities of carefully examining this phenomenon. When the zodiacal light had been most intense, I have observed that it would be weakened for a few minutes, until it again suddenly shone forth in full brilliancy. In a few instances I have thought I could perceive, not exactly a reddish coloration, nor the lower portion darkened in an arc-like form, nor even a scintillation, but a kind of flickering and wavering of the light. Must we suppose that changes are actually in progress in the nebulous ring? Or is it not more probable that processes of condensation may be going on in the uppermost strata of the air, by means of which the transparency--or, rather, the reflection of light--may be modified in some peculiar and unknown manner? An assumption of the existence of such meteorological causes on the confines of our atmosphere is strengthened by the sudden flash and pulsations of light which have been observed to vibrate for several seconds through the tail of a comet. During the continuation of these pulsations it has been noticed that the comet’s tail was lengthened by several degrees, and then again contracted.”