On the 27th of November, 1872, a beautiful meteoric shower took place. You will notice that though the month is the same, the day is entirely different from that on which the Leonids appear. This shower of the 27th is called the Andromedes, because the lines of direction of the shooting stars of which it is composed seem to diverge from a point in the constellation Andromeda. Ordinarily speaking, there is no special display of meteors connected with the annual return of this day; but in 1872 astronomers were astonished by an exhibition of shooting stars belonging to this system. They were not at all bright when compared with the Leonid meteors. They were, however, sufficiently numerous to arrest the attention of very many, even among those who do not usually pay much attention to the heavens.

The chief interest of the shower of Andromedes centers in a remarkable discovery connecting meteors and comets. There is a comet which was discovered by the astronomer Biela. It is a small object, requiring a telescope to show it. This comet completes each revolution in a period of about seven years; or rather, I should say, that was the time which the comet used to spend on its journey, for a life of trouble and disaster seems of late to have nearly extinguished the unfortunate object. In 1872 the comet was due in our neighborhood, and on the night of the 27th of November, in the same year, the earth crossed the track, and, in doing so, the shower of shooting stars was seen. This was a remarkable coincidence. We crossed the path of the comet at the time when we knew the comet ought to be there; and though we did not then see the comet, we saw a shower of shooting stars, and a wonderful shower too. A circumstance so peculiar suggested at once that the comet and the shooting stars must in some way or other be connected together. This is a suggestion we can test in another manner. We know the history of the comet, and we are aware that at the very time of the shower, the comet was approaching from the direction of the constellation of Andromeda. It was coming, in fact, from the very quarter whence the shooting stars have themselves travelled. Taking all these things together, it seems impossible to doubt that the shoal of shooting stars was, if not actually the comet itself, something closely connected with that famous body.

METEORITES.

Some years ago, a farmer living near Rowton, in Shropshire, noticed on a path in a field a hole which had been suddenly made by some mysterious and unknown agent. The laborers who were near told him they had just heard a remarkable noise; and when the farmer put his hand down into the hole, he felt something hot at the bottom of it. He took a spade and dug up the strange body, and found it to be a piece of iron, weighing about seven pounds. He was naturally amazed at such an occurrence, and brought the body home with him.

Where did that piece of iron come from? It is plain that it could not have been always in the ground. The noise and the recently made hole showed that was not the case, and that is confirmed by the fact that the iron was hot. A piece of iron within a few feet of the earth’s surface cannot have remained warm for any length of time. It is therefore clear that the iron must have tumbled from the sky. This is a marvellous notion; in fact, it seems so incredible that at first people refused to believe that such things as stones or solid lumps of iron could have fallen from the heavens to the earth. But they had to believe it; the evidence was too conclusive. Fortunately, however, the occurrence is a comparatively rare one; indeed, our life on this globe would have an intolerable anxiety added to it if showers of iron hailstones like that at Rowton were at all of frequent occurrence. We should want umbrellas of a more substantial description than those which suffice for the rains we actually experience. There are, indeed, instances on record of persons having been killed by the fearful blows given by these bodies in falling.

The Rowton siderite is a comparatively small one; pieces weighing hundredweights, and even tons, have been collected together in our museums. I would recommend you to pay a visit to that interesting room in our great British Museum in which these meteorites are exhibited. There we see actual specimens of celestial bodies which we can feel or weigh, and which our chemists can analyze. It may be noticed that they only contain substances that we already know on this earth. This celestial iron has often been made use of in primitive times before man understood how to smelt iron from its ore and how to transform it from cast iron to wrought iron. Nature seems to have taken heed of their wants, and occasionally to have thrown down a lump or two for the benefit of those who were so fortunate as to secure them.

That these stones or irons drop from the sky is absolutely certain, but when we try to find out their earlier history we become involved in not a few difficulties. Nobody really knows the true history of these objects, but the view of their origin which seems to me to possess fewer difficulties than any other view is that which we may call the Columbiad Theory. I use this expression because every boy or girl listening to me ought to have read Jules Verne’s wonderful book, “From the Earth to the Moon,” and if any of you have not read it, the sooner you do so the better. It is there narrated how the gun club of Baltimore designed a magnificent cannon which was sunk deep into the ground, and then received a terrific charge of guncotton, on which a great hollow projectile was carefully lowered, containing inside the three adventurous explorers who desired to visit the moon. Calculations were produced with a view of showing that by firing on a particular day the explosion would drive the projectile up to the moon. There was, however, the necessary condition that the speed of projection should be great enough. The gun club were accurate in saying that if the cannon were able to discharge the projectile with a speed twenty or thirty times as great as that which had ever been obtained with any other cannon, then the missile would ascend up and up forever if no further influence were exerted on it. No doubt we have to overlook the resistance on the air and a few other little difficulties, but to this extent, at all events, the gun club were right: that a velocity of about six or seven miles a second would suffice to carry a body away from the gravitation of the earth.

No one supposes that there were ever Columbiad cannons on our globe by which projectiles were shot up into space; but it seems possible that there may have been in very ancient days volcanoes on the earth with a shooting power as great as that which President Barbicane designed for the big cannon.

Even now we have some active volcanoes of great energy on our earth, and we know that in former days the volcanoes must have been still more powerful; that, in fact, the Vesuvius of the present must be merely a popgun in comparison with volcanoes which have shaken the earth in those primitive days when it had just cooled down from its original fiery condition. Some of these early volcanoes, in the throes of their mighty eruptions, appear to have shot forth pieces of iron and volcanic substances with a violence great enough to carry them off into space.

Suppose that a missile were projected upwards, it would ascend higher and higher, and gravity would, of course, tend to drag it back again down to earth. It can be shown that with an initial speed of six or seven miles a second the missiles would never return to the earth if only influenced by its attraction. The subsequent history of such a projectile would be guided by the laws according to which a planet moves. The body is understood to escape the destination which was aimed at by the Columbiad. I mean, of course, that it is not supposed to hit the moon. Of course, this might conceivably happen; but most of the projectiles would go quite wide of the mark, and would travel off into space.