Curiosities of the Sky - Garrett P. Serviss (best book clubs txt) 📗

there were no great telescopes in the year 1729. That comet affects the imagination like a phantom of space peering into the solar system, displaying its enormous train afar off (which, if it had approached as near as other comets, would probably have become the celestial wonder of all human memory), and then turning away and vanishing in the depths of immensity.

 

In 1843 a comet appeared which was so brilliant that it could be seen in broad day close beside the sun! This was the first authenticated instance of that kind, but the occurrence was to be repeated, as we shall see in a moment, less than forty years later.

 

The splendid comet of 1858, usually called Donati’s, is remembered by many persons yet living. It was, perhaps, both as seen by the naked eye and with the telescope, the most beautiful comet of which we have any record. It too marked a rich vintage year, still remembered in the vineyards of France, where there is a popular belief that a great comet ripens the grape and imparts to the wine a flavor not attainable by the mere skill of the cultivator. There are “comet wines,”

carefully treasured in certain cellars, and brought forth only when their owner wishes to treat his guests to a sip from paradise.

 

The year 1861 saw another very remarkable comet, of an aspect strangely vast and diffuse, which is believed to have swept the earth with its immense tail when it passed between us and the sun on the night of June 30th, an event which produced no other known effect than the appearance of an unwonted amount of scattered light in the sky.

 

The next very notable comet was the “Great Southern Comet” of 1880, which was not seen from the northern hemisphere. It mimicked the aspect of the famous comet of 1843, and to the great surprise of astronomers appeared to be traveling in the same path. This proved to be the rising of the curtain for an astronomical sensation unparalleled in its kind; for two years later another brilliant comet appeared, first in the southern hemisphere, and it too followed the same track. The startling suggestion was now made that this comet was identical with those of 1843 and 1880, its return having been hastened by the resistance experienced in passing twice through the coronal envelope, and there were some who thought that it would now swing swiftly round and then plunge straight into the sun, with consequences that might be disastrous to us on account of the “flash of heat”

that would be produced by the impact. Nervous people were frightened, but observation soon proved that the danger was imaginary, for although the comet almost grazed the sun, and must have rushed through two or three million miles of the coronal region, no retardation of its immense velocity was perceptible, and it finally passed away in a damaged condition, as before remarked, and has never since appeared.

 

Then the probable truth was perceived — viz., that the three comets (1843, 1880, and 1882) were not one identical body, but three separate ones all traveling in the same orbit. It was found, too, that a comet seen in 1668 bore similar insignia of relationship. The natural inference was that these four bodies had once formed a single mass which had been split apart by the disruptive action of the sun.

Strength was lent to this hypothesis by the fact that the comet of 1882 was apparently torn asunder during its perihelion passage, retreating into space in a dissevered state. But Prof. George Forbes has a theory that the splitting of the original cometary mass was effected by an unknown planet, probably greater than Jupiter, situated at a hundred times the earth’s distance from the sun, and revolving in a period of a thousand years. He supposes that the original comet was not that of 1668, but one seen in 1556, which has since been “missing,” and that its disruption occurred from an encounter with the supposititious planet about the year 1700. Truly from every point of view comets are the most extraordinary of adventurers!

 

The comet of 1882 was likewise remarkable for being visible, like its predecessor of 1843, in full daylight in close proximity to the sun.

The story of its detection when almost in contact with the solar disk is dramatic. It had been discovered in the southern hemisphere only a couple of weeks before its perihelion, which occurred on September 17th, and on the forenoon of that day it was seen by Doctor Common in England, and by Doctor Elkin and Mr Finlay at the Cape of Good Hope, almost touching the sun. It looked like a dazzling white bird with outspread wings. The southern observers watched it go right into the sun, when it instantly disappeared. What had happened was that the comet in passing its perihelion point had swung exactly between the earth and the sun. On the following morning it was seen from all parts of the world close by the sun on the opposite side, and it remained thus visible for three days, gradually receding from the solar disk.

It then became visible for northern observers in the morning sky before sunrise, brandishing a portentous sword-shaped tail which, if it had been in the evening sky, would have excited the wonder of hundreds of millions, but situated where it was, comparatively few ever saw it.

 

The application of photography to the study of comets has revealed many curious details which might otherwise have escaped detection, or at best have remained subject to doubt. It has in particular shown not only the precise form of the tails, but the remarkable vicissitudes that they undergo. Professor Barnard’s photographs of Brooks’ comet in 1893 suggested, by the extraordinary changes in the form of the tail which they revealed, that the comet was encountering a series of obstructions in space which bent and twisted its tail into fantastic shapes. The reader will observe the strange form into which the tail was thrown on the night of October 21st. A cloud of meteors through which the comet was passing might have produced such deformations of its tail. In the photograph of Daniels’ comet of 1907, a curious striping of the tail will be noticed. The short bright streaks seen in the photograph, it may be explained, are the images of stars which are drawn out into lines in consequence of the fact that the photographic telescope was adjusted to follow the motion of the comet while the stars remained at rest.

 

But the adventures of comets are not confined to possible encounters with unknown obstacles. We have referred to the fact that the great planets, and especially Jupiter, frequently interfere with the motions of comets. This interference is not limited to the original alteration of their orbits from possible parabolas to ellipses, but is sometimes exercised again and again, turning the bewildered comets into elliptical paths of all degrees of eccentricity. A famous example of this kind of planetary horse-play is furnished by the story of Lexell’s missing comet. This comet was first seen in 1770.

Investigation showed that it was moving in an orbit which should bring it back to perihelion every five and a half years; yet it had never been seen before and, although often searched for, has never been seen since. Laplace and Leverrier proved mathematically that in 1767 it had approached so close to Jupiter as to be involved among the orbits of his satellites. What its track had been before is not known, but on that occasion the giant planet seized the interloper, threw it into a short elliptic orbit and sent it, like an arrested vagrant, to receive sentence at the bar of the sun. On this journey it passed within less than 1,500,000 miles of the earth. The form of orbit which Jupiter had impressed required, as we have said, its return in about five and a half years; but soon after 1770 it had the misfortune a second time to encounter Jupiter at close range, and he, as if dissatisfied with the leniency of the sun, or indignant at the stranger’s familiarity, seized the comet and hurled it out of the system, or at any rate so far away that it has never since been able to rejoin the family circle that basks in the immediate rays of the solar hearth. Nor is this the only instance in which Jupiter has dealt summarily with small comets that have approached him with too little deference.

 

The function which Jupiter so conspicuously fulfills as master of the hounds to the sun is worth considering a little more in detail. To change the figure, imagine the sun in its voyage through space to be like a majestic battleship surrounded by its scouts. Small vessels (the comets, as they are overhauled by the squadron, are taken in charge by the scouts, with Jupiter for their chief, and are forced to accompany the fleet, but not all are impressed. If a strange comet undertakes to run across Jupiter’s bows the latter brings it to, and makes prize of it by throwing it into a relatively small ellipse with the sun for its focus. Thenceforth, unless, as happened to the unhappy comet of Lexell, it encounters Jupiter again in such a way as to be diverted by him into a more distant orbit, it can never get away.

About thirty comets are now known to have thus been captured by the great planet, and they are called “Jupiter’s Comet Family.” But, on the other hand, if a wandering comet crosses the wake of the chief planetary scout the latter simply drives it away by accelerating its motion and compels it to steer off into open space. The transformation of comets into meteors will be considered in the next chapter, but here, in passing, mention may be made of the strange fate of one member of Jupiter’s family, Biela’s comet, which, having become over bold in its advances to its captor, was, after a few revolutions in is impressed orbit, torn to pieces and turned into a flock of meteors.

 

And now let us return to the mystery of comets’ tails. That we are fully justified in speaking of the tails of comets as mysterious is proved by the declaration of Sir John Herschel, who averred, in so many words, that “there is some profound secret and mystery of nature concerned in this phenomenon,” and this profound secret and mystery has not yet been altogether cleared up. Nevertheless, the all-explaining hypothesis of Arrhenius offers us once more a certain amount of aid. Comets’ tails, Arrhenius assures us, are but another result of the pressure of light. The reader will recall the applications of this theory to the Zodiacal Light and the Aurora. In the form in which we now have to deal with it, the supposition is made that as a comet approaches the sun eruptions of vapor, due to the solar heat, occur in its nucleus. These are naturally most active on the side which is directly exposed to the sun, whence the appearance of the immense glowing envelopes that surround the nucleus on the sunward side. Among the particles of hydro-carbon, and perhaps solid carbon in the state of fine dust, which are thus set free there will be many whose size is within the critical limit which enables the light-waves from the sun to drive them away. Clouds of such particles, then, will stream off behind the advancing comet, producing the appearance of a tail. This accounts for the fact that the tails of comets are always directed away from the sun, and it also explains the varying forms of the tails and the extraordinary changes that they undergo. The speed of the particles driven before the light-waves must depend upon their size