THE MOVEMENTS OF A COMET.

The planets are all massive globes, more or less flattened at the Poles; but now we have to talk about a multitude of objects of the most irregular shapes, and of the most flimsy description. We call them comets, and they exist in such numbers that an old astronomer has said “there were more comets in the sky than fishes in the sea,” though I think we cannot quite believe him. There is also another wide difference between planets and comets: planets move round in nearly circular ellipses, and not only do we know where a planet is to-night, but we know where it was a month ago, or a hundred years ago, or where it will be in a hundred years or a thousand years to come. All such movements are conducted with conspicuous regularity and order; but now we are to speak of bodies which generally come in upon us in the most uncertain and irregular fashion. They visit us we hardly know whence, except that it is from outer space, and they are adorned in a glittering raiment, almost spiritual in its texture. They are always changing their appearance in a baffling, but still very fascinating manner. If an artist tries to draw a comet, he will have hardly finished his picture of it in one charming robe before he finds it arrayed in another. The astronomer has also his complaints to make against the comets. I have told you how thoroughly we can rely on the movements of the planets, but comets often play sad pranks with our calculations. They sometimes take the astronomers by surprise, and blaze out with their long tails just when we do not expect them. Then by way of compensation they frequently disappoint us by not appearing when they have been most anxiously looked for.

After a voyage through space the comet at length begins to draw in towards the central parts of our system, and as it approaches the sun, its pace becomes gradually greater and greater; in fact, as the body sweeps round the sun the speed is sometimes 20,000 times faster than that of an express train. It is sometimes more than 1000 times as fast as the swiftest of rifle bullets, occasionally attaining the rate of 200 miles a second. The closer the comet goes to the sun, the faster it moves; and a case has been known in which a comet, after coming in for an incalculable duration of time towards the sun, has acquired a speed so tremendous, that in two hours it has whirled round the sun and has commenced to return to the depths of outer space. This terrific outburst of speed does not last long. A pace which near the sun is 20,000 times that of our express trains diminishes to 10,000 times, to fifty times, to ten times that pace; while in the outermost part of its path the comet seems to creep along so slowly that we might think it had been fatigued by its previous exertions.

Fig. 72.—How the Comet’s Tail is disposed.

We have so often seen a stream of sparks stretching out along the track of a sky-rocket, that we might naturally suppose the tail of a comet streamed out along its path in a somewhat similar manner. This would be quite wrong. You see from [Fig. 72] that the tail does not lie along the comet’s path, but is always directed outwards from the sun. If you will draw a line from the sun to the head of the comet and follow the direction of the line, it shows the way in which the tail is arranged. You will also notice how the tail of the comet seems to grow in length as it approaches the sun. When the comet is first seen, the tail is often a very insignificant affair, but it shoots out with enormous rapidity until it becomes many millions of miles long by the time the comet is whirling round the sun. Those glories soon begin to wane as the comet flies outward; the tail gradually vanishes, and the wanderer retreats again to the depths of space in the same undecorated condition as that in which it first approached.

When a comet appears, it is always a matter of interest to see whether it is an entirely new object, or whether it may not be only another return of a comet which has paid us one or more previous visits. The question then arises as to how they are to be identified. Here we see a wide contrast between unsubstantial bodies like comets and the weighty and stately planets. Sketches of the various planets or of the face of the sun, though they might show slight differences from time to time, are still always sufficiently characteristic, just as a photographic portrait will identify the individual, even though the lapse of years will bring some changes in his appearance. But the drawing of a comet is almost useless for identification. You might as well try to identify a cloud or a puff of smoke by making a picture of it. Make a drawing of a comet at one appearance, and sketch particularly the ample tail with which it is provided. The next time the comet comes round it may very possibly have two tails, or possibly no tail at all. We are therefore unable to place any reliance on the comet’s personal appearance in our efforts to identify it. The highway which it follows through the sky affords the only means of recognition; for the comet, if undisturbed by other objects, will never change its actual orbit. But even this method of identification often fails, for it not unfrequently happens that during its erratic movements the comet gets into fearful trouble with other heavenly bodies. In such cases the poor comet is sometimes driven so completely out of its road that it has to make for itself an entirely new path, and our efforts to identify it are plunged in confusion. It has happened that a second comet or even a third will be found in nearly the same track, but whether these are wholly different, or whether they are merely parts of the same original object, it is often impossible to determine.

The great majority of comets are only to be seen with a telescope, and hardly a year passes without the detection of at least a few of these faint objects. The number of really brilliant comets that can be seen in a lifetime could, however, be counted on the fingers.