dog. The native tribes of British Columbia, too, have their myth.
Mr. William Duncan writes to the Church Missionary Society: "One
very dark night I was told that there was a moon to be seen on the
beach. On going to see, there was an illuminated disk, with the
figure of a man upon it. The water was then very low, and one of the
conjuring parties had lit up this disk at the water's edge. They had
made it to wax with great exactness, and presently it was at full. It
was an imposing sight. Nothing could be seen around it; but the
Indians suppose that the medicine party are then holding converse
with the man in the moon." [41] Mr. Duncan was at another time led
to the ancestral village of a tribe of Indians, whose chief said to him:
"This is the place where our fore fathers lived, and they told us
something we want to tell you. The story is as follows: 'One night a
child of the chief class awoke and cried for water. Its cries were
very affecting--"Mother, give me to drink!" but the mother heeded
not. The moon was affected, and came down, entered the house, and
approached the child, saying, "Here is water from heaven: drink."
The child anxiously laid hold of the pot and drank the draught, and
was enticed to go away with the moon, its benefactor. They took an
underground passage till they got quite clear of the village, and then
ascended to heaven.' And," said the chief, "our forefathers tell us
that the figure we now see in the moon is that very child; and also
the little round basket which it had in its hand when it went to sleep
appears there." [42]
The aborigines of New Zealand have a suggestive version of this
superstition. It is quoted from D'Urville by De Rougemont in his
_Le Peuple Primitif_ (tom. ii. p. 245), and is as follows:--"Before
the moon gave light, a New Zealander named Rona went out in the
night to fetch some water from the well. But he stumbled and
unfortunately sprained his ankle, and was unable to return home. All
at once, as he cried out for very anguish, he beheld with fear and
horror that the moon, suddenly becoming visible, descended
towards him. He seized hold of a tree, and clung to it for safety; but
it gave way, and fell with Rona upon the moon; and he remains
there to this day." [43] Another account of Rona varies in that he
escapes falling into the well by seizing a tree, and both he and the
tree were caught up to the moon. The variation indicates that the
legend has a living root.
Here we terminate our somewhat wearisome wanderings about the
world and through the mazes of mythology in quest of the man in
the moon. As we do so, we are constrained to emphasize the striking
similarity between the Scandinavian myth of Jack and Jill, that
exquisite tradition of the British Columbian chief, and the New
Zealand story of Rona. When three traditions, among peoples so far
apart geographically, so essentially agree in one, the lessons to be
learned from comparative mythology ought not to be lost upon the
philosophical student of human history. To the believer in the unity
of our race such a comparison of legends is of the greatest
importance. As Mr. Tylor tells us, "The number of myths recorded
as found in different countries, where it is hardly conceivable that
they should have grown independently, goes on steadily increasing
from year to year, each one furnishing a new clue by which
common descent or intercourse is to be traced." [44] The same
writer says on another page of his valuable work, "The mythmaking
faculty belongs to mankind in general, and manifests itself in the
most distant regions, where its unity of principle develops itself in
endless variety of form." [45] Take, for example, China and
England, representing two distinct races, two languages, two forms
of religion, and two degrees of civilization yet, as W. F. Mayers
remarks, "No one can compare the Chinese legend with the popular
European belief in the 'Man in the Moon,' without feeling convinced
of the certainty that the Chinese superstition and the English nursery
tale are both derived from kindred parentage, and are linked in this
relationship by numerous subsidiary ties. In all the range of Chinese
mythology there is, perhaps, no stronger instance of identity with
the traditions that have taken root in Europe than in the case of the
legends relating to the moon." [46] This being the case, our present
endeavour to establish the consanguinity of the nations, on the
ground of agreement in myths and modes of faith and worship,
cannot be labour thrown away. The recognition of friends in heaven
is an interesting speculation; but far more good must result, as
concerns this life at least, from directing our attention to the
recognition of friends on earth. If we duly estimate the worth of any
comparative science, whether of anatomy or philology, mythology
or religion, this is the grand generalization to be attained, essential
unity consistent and concurrent with endless multiformity; many
structures, but one life; many creeds, but one faith; many beings and
becomings, but all emanating from one Paternity, cohering through
one Presence, and converging to one Perfection, in Him who is the
Author and Former and Finisher of all things which exist. Let no
man therefore ridicule a myth as puerile if it be an aid to belief in
that commonweal of humanity for which the Founder of the purest
religion was a witness and a martyr. We have sought out the man in
the moon mainly because it was one out of many scattered stories
which, as Max Mueller nobly says, "though they may be pronounced
childish and tedious by some critics, seem to me to glitter with the
brightest dew of nature's own poetry, and to contain those
very touches that make us feel akin, not only with Homer or
Shakespeare, but even with Lapps, and Finns, and Kaffirs." [47]
Vico discovered the value of myths, as an addition to our
knowledge of the mental and moral life of the men of the
myth-producing period. Professor Flint tells us that mythology, as
viewed by the contemporaries of Vico, "appeared to be merely a
rubbish-heap, composed of waste, worthless, and foul products of
mind; but he perceived that it contained the materials for a science
which would reflect the mind and history of humanity, and even
asserted some general principles as to how these materials were to be
interpreted and utilised, which have since been established, or at
least endorsed, by Heyne, Creuzer, C O Mueller, and others." [48]
Let us cease to call that common which God has cleansed, and with
thankfulness recognise the solidarity of the human race, to which
testimony is borne by even a lunar myth.
We now return to the point whence we deflected, and rejoin the
chief actor in the selenographic comedy. It is a relief to get away
from the legendary man in the moon, and to have the real man once
more in sight. We are like the little boy, whom the obliging visitor,
anxious to show that he was passionately fond of children, and
never annoyed by them in the least, treated to a ride upon his knee.
"Trot, trot, trot; how do you enjoy that, my little man? Isn't that
nice?" "Yes, sir," replied the child, "but not so nice as on the real
donkey, the one with the four legs." It is true, the mythical character
has redeeming traits; but then he breaks the Sabbath, obstructs
people going to mass, steals cabbages, and is undergoing sentence
of transportation for life. While the real man, who lives in a
well-lighted crescent, thoroughly ventilated; whose noble profile is
sometimes seen distinctly when he passes by on the shady side of
the way; whose beaming countenance is at other times turned full
upon us, reflecting nothing but sunshine as he winks at his many
admirers: he is a being of quite another order. We do not forget that
he has been represented with a claret jug in one hand, and a claret
cup in the other; that he frequently takes half and half; that he is a
smoker; that he sometimes gets up when other people are going to
bed; that he often stops out all the night; and is too familiar with the
low song--
"We won't go home till morning."
But these are mere eccentricities of greatness, and with all such
irregularities he is "a very delectable, highly respectable" young
fellow; in short,
"A most intense young man,
A soul-full-eyed young man,
An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical,
Out-of-the-way young man."
Why, he has been known to take the shine out of old Sol himself;
though from his partiality to us it always makes him look black in
the face when we, Alexander-like, stand between him and that
luminary. We, too, are the only people by whom he ever allows
himself to be eclipsed. Illustrious man in the moon I he has lifted
our thoughts from earth to heaven, and we are reluctant to leave
him. But the best of friends must part; especially as other lunar
inhabitants await attention.
"Other inhabitants!" some one may exclaim. Surely! we reply; and
though it will necessitate a digression, we touch upon the question
_en passant_. Cicero informs us that "Xenophanes says that the
moon is inhabited, and a country having several towns and
mountains in it." [49] This single dictum will be sufficient for those
who bow to the influence of authority in matters of opinion.
Settlement of questions by "texts" is a saving of endless pains. For
that there are such lunar inhabitants must need little proof. Every
astronomer is aware that the moon is full of craters; and every
linguist is aware that "cratur" is the Irish word for creature. Or, to
state the argument syllogistically, as our old friend Aristotle would
have done: "Craturs" are inhabitants; the moon is full of craters;
therefore the moon is full of inhabitants. We appeal to any unbiased
mind whether such argumentation is not as sound as much of our
modern reasoning, conducted with every pretence to logic and
lucidity. Besides, who has not heard of that astounding publication,
issued fifty years since, and entitled _Great Astronomical
Discoveries lately made by Sir John Herschel, LL.D., F.R.S., etc., at
the Cape of Good Hope_? One writer dares to designate it a singular
satire; stigmatizes it as the once celebrated _Moon Hoax_, and
attributes it to one Richard Alton Locke, of the United States. What
an insinuation! that a man born under the star-spangled banner
could trifle with astronomy. But if a few incredulous persons
doubted, a larger number of the credulous believed. When the first
number appeared in the New York Sun, in September, 1835, the
excitement aroused was intense. The paper sold daily by thousands;
and when the articles came out as a pamphlet, twenty thousand went
off at once. Not only in Young America, but also in Old England,
France, and throughout Europe, the wildest enthusiasm prevailed.
Could anybody reasonably doubt that Sir John had seen wonders,
when it was known that his telescope contained a prodigious lens,
weighing nearly seven tons, and possessing a magnifying power
estimated at 42,000 times? A reverend astronomer tells us that Sir
Frederick Beaufort, having occasion to write to Sir John Herschel at
the Cape, asked if he had heard of the report current in England that
he (Sir John) had discovered sheep, oxen, and flying _men_ in the
moon. Sir John had heard the report; and had further heard that an
American divine had "improved" the revelations. The said divine
had told his congregation that, on account of the wonderful
discoveries of the present age, lie lived in expectation of one day
calling upon them for a subscription to buy Bibles for the benighted
inhabitants of the moon. [50] What more needs to be said? Give our
astronomical mechanicians a little time, and they will produce an
instrument for full verification of these statements regarding the
lunar inhabitants; and we may realize more than we have imagined
or dreamed. We may obtain observations as satisfactory as those of
a son of the Emerald Isle, who was one day boasting to a friend of
his excellent telescope. "Do you see yonder church?" said he.
"Although it is scarcely discernible with the naked eye, when I look
at it through my telescope, it brings it so close that I can hear the
organ playing." Two hundred years ago, a wise man witnessed a
wonderful phenomenon in the moon: he actually beheld a live
elephant there. But the unbelieving have ever since made all manner
of fun at the good knight's expense. Take the following burlesque of
this celebrated discovery as an instance. "Sir Paul Neal, a conceited
virtuoso of the seventeenth century, gave out that he had discovered
'an elephant in the moon.' It turned out that a mouse had crept into
his telescope, which had been mistaken for an elephant in the
moon." [51] Well, we concede that an elephant and a mouse are
very much alike; but surely Sir Paul was too sagacious to be
deceived by resemblances. If we had more faith, which is
indispensable in such matters, the revelations of science, however
extraordinary or extravagant, would be received without a murmur
of distrust. We should not then meet with such sarcasm as we found
in the seventeenth century _Jest Book_ before quoted: "One asked
why men should thinke there was a world in the moone? It was
answered, because they were lunatique."
According to promise, we must make mention of at least one visit
paid by our hero to this lower world. We do this in the classic
language of a student of that grand old University which stands in
the city of Oxford. May the horns of Oxford be exalted, and the
shadow of the University never grow less, while the moon endureth!
"The man in the moon! why came he down
From his peaceful realm on high;
Where sorrowful moan is all unknown,
And nothing is born to die?
The man in the moon was tired, it seems,
Of living so long in the land of dreams;
'Twas a beautiful sphere, but nevertheless
Its lunar life was passionless;
Unchequered by sorrow, undimmed by crime,
Untouched by the wizard wand of time;
'Twas all too grand, there was no scope
For dread, and of course no room for hope
To him the future had no fear,
To make the present doubly dear;
The day no cast of coming night,
To make the borrowed ray more bright;
And life itself no thought of death,
To sanctify the boon of breath:--
In short, as we world-people say,
The man in the moon was _ennuye_." [52]
Poor man in the moon! what a way he must have been in! We hope
that he found improving fellowship, say among the Fellows of some
Royal Astronomical Society; and that when e returned to his
skylight, or lighthouse on the coast of immensity's wide sea, he
returned a wiser and much happier man. It is for us, too, to
remember with Spenser, "The noblest mind the best contentment
has."
And now we record a few visits which men of this sublunary sphere
are said to have paid to the moon. The chronicles are unfortunately
very incomplete. Aiming at historical fulness and fidelity, we turned
to our national bibliotheca at the British Museum, where we fished
out of the vasty deep of treasures a MS. without date or name. We
wish the Irish orator's advice were oftener followed by literary
authors. Said he, "Never write an anonymous letter without signing
your name to it." This MS. is entitled "_Selenographia_, or News
from the world in the moon to the lunatics of this world. By Lucas
Lunanimus of Lunenberge." [53] We are here told how the author,
"making himself a kite of ye hight(?) of a large sheet, and tying
himself to the tayle of it, by the help of some trusty friends, to
whom he promised mountains of land in this his new-found world;
being furnished also with a tube, horoscope, and other instruments
of discovery, he set saile the first of Aprill, a day alwaies esteemed
prosperous for such adventures." Fearing, however, lest the date of
departure should make some suspicious that the author was desirous
of making his readers April fools, we leave this aerial tourist to
pursue his explorations without our company, and listen to a learned
bishop, who ought to be a canonical authority, for the man in the
moon himself is an overseer of men. Dr. Francis Godwin, first of
Llandaff, afterwards of Hereford, wrote about the year 1600 _The
Man in the Moone_, or a discourse of a voyage thither. This was
published in 1638, under the pseudonym of Domingo Gonsales. The
enterprising aeronaut went up from the island of El Pico, carried by
wild swans. _Swans_, be it observed. It was not a wild-goose chase.
The author is careful to tell us what we believe so soon as it is
declared. "The further we went, the lesser the globe of the earth
appeared to us; whereas still on the contrary side the moone showed
herselfe more and more monstrously huge." After eleven days'
passage, the exact time that Arago allowed for a cannon ball to
reach the moon, "another earth" was approached. "I perceived that it
was covered for the most part with a huge and mighty sea, those
parts only being drie land, which show unto us here somewhat
darker than the rest of her body; that I mean which the country
people call _el hombre della Luna_, the man of the moone."
This last clause demands a protest. The bishop knocks the
country-people's man out of the moon, to make room for his own
man, which episcopal creation is twenty-eight feet high, and weighs
twenty-five or thirty of any of us. Besides ordinary men, of
extraordinary measurement, the bishop finds in the moon princes
and queens. The females, or lunar ladies, as a matter of course, are
of absolute beauty. Their language has "no affinity with any other I
ever heard." This is a poor look-out for the American divine who
expects to send English Bibles to the moon. "Food groweth
everywhere without labour": this is a cheering prospect for our
working classes who may some day go there. "They need no
lawyers": oh what a country! "And as little need is there of
physicians." Why, the moon must be Paradise regained. But, alas!
"they die, or rather (I should say) cease to live." Well, my lord
bishop, is not that how we die on earth? Perhaps we need to be
learned bishops to appreciate the difference. If so, we might accept
episcopal distinction.
Lucian, the Greek satirist, in his _Voyage to the Globe of the
Moon_, sailed through the sky for the space of seven days and
nights and on the eighth "arrived in a great round and shining island
which hung in the air and yet was inhabited. These inhabitants were
Hippogypians, and their king was Endymion." [54] Some of the
ancients thought the lunarians were fifteen times larger than we are,
and our oaks but bushes compared with their trees. So natural is it to
magnify prophets not of our own country.
William Hone tells us that a Mr. Wilson, formerly curate of Halton
Gill, near Skipton-in-Craven, Yorkshire, in the last century wrote a
tract entitled _The Man in the Moon_, which was seriously meant to
convey the knowledge of common astronomy in the following
strange vehicle: A cobbler, Israel Jobson by name, is supposed to
ascend first to the top of Penniguit; and thence, as a second stage
equally practicable, to the moon; after which he makes the grand
tour of the whole solar system. From this excursion, however, the
traveller brings back little information which might not have been
had upon earth, excepting that the inhabitants of one of the planets, I
forget which, were made of "pot metal." [55] This curious tract, full
of other extravagances, is rarely if ever met with, it having been
zealously bought up by its writer's family.
We must not be detained with any detailed account of M. Jules
Verne's captivating books, entitled _From the Earth to the Moon_,
and _Around the Moon_. They are accessible to all, at a trifling
cost. Besides, they reveal nothing new relating to the Hamlet of our
present play. Nor need we more than mention "the surprising
adventures of the renowned Baron Munchausen." His lunarians
being over thirty-six feet high, and "a common flea being much
larger than one of our sheep," [56] Munchausen's moon must be
declined, with thanks.
"Certain travellers, like the author of the _Voyage au monde de
Descartes_, have found, on visiting these different lunar countries,
that the great men whose names they had arbitrarily received took
possession of them in the course of the sixteenth century, and there
fixed their residence. These immortal souls, it seems, continued
their works and systems inaugurated on earth. Thus it is, that on
Mount Aristotle a real Greek city has risen, peopled with peripatetic
philosophers, and guarded by sentinels armed with propositions,
antitheses, and sophisms, the master himself living in the centre of
the town in a magnificent palace. Thus also in Plato's circle live
souls continually occupied in the study of the prototype of ideas.
Two years ago a fresh division of lunar property was made, some
astronomers being generously enriched." [57]
That the moon is an abode of the departed spirits of men, an upper
hades, has been believed for ages. In the Egyptian _Book of
Respirations_, which M. p. J. de Horrack has translated from the
MS. in the Louvre in Paris, Isis breathes the wish for her brother
Osiris "that his soul may rise to heaven in the disk of the moon."
[58] Plutarch says, "Of these soules the moon is the element,
because soules doe resolve into her, like as the bodies of the dead
into the earth." [59] To this ancient theory Mr. Tylor refers when he
writes, "And when in South America the Saliva Indians have
pointed out the moon, their paradise where no mosquitoes are, and
the Guaycurus have shown it as the home of chiefs and medicine-men
deceased, and the Polynesians of Tokelau in like manner have
claimed it as the abode of departed kings and chiefs, then these
pleasant fancies may be compared with that ancient theory
mentioned by Plutarch, that hell is in the air and elysium in the
moon, and again with the mediaeval conception of the moon as the
seat of hell, a thought elaborated in profoundest bathos by Mr. M. F.
Tupper:
'I know thee well, O Moon, thou cavern'd realm,
Sad satellite, thou giant ash of death,
Blot on God's firmament, pale home of crime,
Scarr'd prison house of sin, where damned souls
Feed upon punishment. Oh, thought sublime,
That amid night's black deeds, when evil prowls
Through the broad world, thou, watching sinners well,
Glarest o'er all, the wakeful eye of--Hell!'
Skin for skin, the brown savage is not ill-matched in such
speculative lore with the white philosopher." [60]
The last journey to the moon on our list we introduce for the sake of
its sacred lesson. Pure religion is an Attic salt, which wise men use
in all of their entertainments: a condiment which seasons what is
otherwise insipid, and assists healthy digestion in the compound
organism of man's mental and moral constitution. About seventy
years since, a little tract was published, in which the writer imagined
himself on _luna firma_. After giving the inhabitants of the moon an
account of our terrestrial race, of its fall and redemption, and of the
unhappiness of those who neglect the great salvation, he says, "The
secret is this, that nothing but an infinite God, revealing Himself by
His Spirit to their minds, and enabling them to believe and trust in
Him, can give perfect and lasting satisfaction." He then adds, "My
last observation received the most marked approbation of the lunar
inhabitants: they truly pitied the ignorant triflers of our sinful world,
who prefer drunkenness, debauchery, sinful amusements, exorbitant
riches, flattery, and other things that are highly esteemed amongst
men, to the pleasures of godliness, to the life of God in the soul of
man, to the animating hope of future bliss." [61]