I remember being told by a clergyman, years ago, that one night in November he had gone up to bed very late, and as he pulled up his blind to look at the sky, to his amazement he saw a perfect hail of shooting stars, some appearing every minute, and all darting in vivid trails of light, longer or shorter, though all seemed to come from one point. So marvellous was the sight that he dashed across the village street, unlocked the church door, and himself pulled the bell with all his might. The people in that quiet country village had long been in bed, but they huddled on their clothes and ran out of their pretty thatched cottages, thinking there must be a great fire, and when they saw the wonder in the sky they were amazed and cried out that the world must be coming to an end. The clergyman knew better than that, and was able to reassure them, and tell them he had only taken the most effectual means of waking them so that they might not miss the display, for he was sure as long as they lived they would never see such another sight. A star shower of this kind is certainly well worth getting up to see, but though uncommon it is not unique. There are many records of such showers having occurred in times gone by, and when men put together and examined the records they found that the showers came at regular intervals. For instance, every year about the same time in November there is a star shower, not comparable, it is true, with the brilliant one the clergyman saw, but still noticeable, for more shooting stars are seen then than at other times, and once in every thirty-three years there is a specially fine one. It happened in fact to be one of these that the village people were wakened up to see.
Not all at once, but gradually, the mystery of these shower displays was solved. It was realized that the meteors need not necessarily come from one fixed place in the sky because they seemed to us to do so, for that was only an effect of perspective. If you were looking down a long, perfectly straight avenue of tree-trunks, the avenue would seem to close in, to get narrower and narrower at the far end until it became a point; but it would not really do so, for you would know that the trees at the far end were just the same distance from each other as those between which you were standing. Now, two meteors starting from the same direction at a distance from each other, and keeping parallel, would seem to us to start from a point and to open out wider and wider as they approached, but they would not really do so; it would only be, as in the case of the avenue, an effect of perspective. If a great many meteors did the same thing, they would appear to us all to start from one point, whereas really they would be on parallel lines, only as they rushed to meet us or we rushed to meet them this effect would be produced. Therefore the first discovery was that these meteors were thousands and thousands of little bodies travelling in lines parallel to each other, like a swarm of little planets. To judge that their path was not a straight line but a circle or ellipse was the next step, and this was found to be the case. From taking exact measurements of their paths in the sky an astronomer computed they were really travelling round the sun in a lengthened orbit, an ellipse more like a comet's orbit than that of a planet. But next came the puzzling question, Why did the earth apparently hit them every year to some extent, and once in thirty-three years seem to run right into the middle of them? This also was answered. One has only to imagine a swarm of such meteors at first hastening busily along their orbit, a great cluster all together, then, by the near neighbourhood of some planet, or by some other disturbing causes, being drawn out, leaving stragglers lagging behind, until at last there might be some all round the path, but only thinly scattered, while the busy, important cluster that formed the nucleus was still much thicker than any other part. Now, if the orbit that the meteors followed cut the orbit or path of the earth at one point, then every time the earth came to what we may call the level crossing she must run into some of the stragglers, and if the chief part of the swarm took thirty-three years to get round, then once in about thirty-three years the earth must strike right into it. This would account for the wonderful display. So long drawn-out is the thickest part of the swarm that it takes a year to pass the points at the level crossing. If the earth strikes it near the front one year, she may come right round in time to strike into the rear part of the swarm next year, so that we may get fine displays two years running about every thirty-three years. The last time we passed through the swarm was in 1899, and then the show was very disappointing. Here in England thick clouds prevented our seeing much, and there will not be another chance for us to see it at its best until 1932.
These November meteors are called Leonids, because they seem to come from a group of stars named Leo, and though the most noticeable they are not the only ones. A shower of the same kind occurs in August too, but the August meteors, called Perseids, because they seem to come from Perseus, revolve in an orbit which takes a hundred and forty-two years to traverse! So that only every one hundred and forty-second year could we hope to see a good display. When all these facts had been gathered up, it seemed without doubt that certain groups of meteors travelled in company along an elliptical orbit. But there remained still something more—a bold and ingenious theory to be advanced. It was found that a comet, a small one, only to be seen with the telescope, revolved in exactly the same orbit as the November meteors, and another one, larger, in exactly the same orbit as the August ones; hence it could hardly be doubted that comets and meteors had some connection with each other, though what that connection is exactly no one knows. Anyway, we can have no shadow of doubt when we find the comet following a marked path, and the meteors pursuing the same path in his wake, that the two have some mysterious affinity. There are other smaller showers besides these of November and August, and a remarkable fact is known about one of them. This particular stream was found to be connected with a comet named Biela's Comet, that had been many times observed, and which returned about every seven years to the sun. After it had been seen several times, this astonishing comet split in two and appeared as two comets, both of which returned at the end of the next seven years. But on the next two occasions when they were expected they never came at all, and the third time there came instead a fine display of shooting stars, so it really seemed as if these meteors must be the fragments of the lost comet.
It is very curious and interesting to notice that in these star showers there is no certain record of any large meteorite reaching the earth; they seem to be made up of such small bodies that they are all dissipated in vapour as they traverse our air.
CHAPTER X
THE GLITTERING HEAVENS
On a clear moonless night the stars appear uncountable. You see them twinkling through the leafless trees, and covering all the sky from the zenith, the highest point above your head, down to the horizon. It seems as if someone had taken a gigantic pepper-pot and scattered them far and wide so that some had fallen in all directions. If you were asked to make a guess as to how many you can see at one time, no doubt you would answer 'Millions!' But you would be quite wrong, for the number of stars that can be seen at once without a telescope does not exceed two thousand, and this, after the large figures we have been dealing with, appears a mere trifle. With a telescope, even of small power, many more are revealed, and every increase in the size of the telescope shows more still; so that it might be supposed the universe is indeed illimitable, and that we are only prevented from seeing beyond a certain point by our limited resources. But in reality we know that this cannot be so. If the whole sky were one mass of stars, as it must be if the number of them were infinite, then, even though we could not distinguish the separate items, we should see it bright with a pervading and diffused light. As this is not so, we judge that the universe is not unending, though, with all our inventions, we may never be able to probe to the end of it. We need not, indeed, cry for infinity, for the distances of the fixed stars from us are so immeasurable that to atoms like ourselves they may well seem unlimited. Our solar system is set by itself, like a little island in space, and far, far away on all sides are other great light-giving suns resembling our own more or less, but dwindled to the size of tiny stars, by reason of the great void of space lying between us and them. Our sun is, indeed, just a star, and by no means large compared with the average of the stars either. But, then, he is our own; he is comparatively near to us, and so to us he appears magnificent and unique. Judging from the solar system, we might expect to find that these other great suns which we call stars have also planets circling round them, looking to them for light and heat as we do to our sun. There is no reason to doubt that in some instances the conjecture is right, and that there may be other suns with attendant planets. It is however a great mistake to suppose that because our particular family in the solar system is built on certain lines, all the other families must be made on the same pattern. Why, even in our own system we can see how very much the planets differ from each other: there are no two the same size; some have moons and some have not; Saturn's rings are quite peculiar to himself, and Uranus and Neptune indulge in strange vagaries. So why should we expect other systems to be less varied?
As science has advanced, the idea that these faraway suns must have planetary attendants as our sun has been discarded. The more we know the more is disclosed to us the infinite variety of the universe. For instance, so much accustomed are we to a yellow sun that we never think of the possibility of there being one of another colour. What would you say then to a ruby sun, or a blue one; or to two suns of different colours, perhaps red and green, circling round each other; or to two such suns each going round a dark companion? For there are dark bodies as well as shining bodies in the sky. These are some of the marvels of the starry sky, marvels quite as absorbing as anything we have found in the solar system.
It requires great care and patience and infinite labour before the very delicate observations which alone can reveal to us anything of the nature of the fixed stars can be accomplished. It is only since the improvement in large telescopes that this kind of work has become possible, and so it is but recently men have begun to study the stars intimately, and even now they are baffled by indescribable difficulties. One of these is our inability to tell the distance of a thing by merely looking at it unless we also know its size. On earth we are used to seeing things appear smaller the further they are from us, and by long habit can generally tell the real size; but when we turn to the stars, which appear so much alike, how are we to judge how far off they are? Two stars apparently the same size and close together in the sky may really be as far one from another as the earth is from the nearest; for if the further one were very much larger than the nearer, they would then appear the same size.