inhabitants of the southern world, for they certainly must be very
much like us; and in short, we may know them better whenever we chuse
to give ourselves the trouble of going to see them; we cannot miss
them, for they will remain in the same place; but these folks in the
moon----I am in despair about them. Were I, I replied, gravely to
answer you, _we know not what may happen_, you would laugh at me, and
I should undoubtedly deserve it; nevertheless I think I could defend
myself in some measure from your ridicule. A thought has come into my
head, which is whimsical enough, and yet there is a wonderful deal
of probability in it; I don't know how it has acquired the power of
imposing that on my understanding, being in itself so extravagant. I
dare say I shall likewise bring you to confess, contrary to reason,
that there may some day be a communication opened between the earth and
the moon. Recollect the situation of America before it was discovered
by Christopher Columbus. The minds of its inhabitants were involved
in the most profound ignorance; far from having any knowledge of the
sciences, they were not even acquainted with the most simple and
necessary arts: they went without clothes; they had no weapon but the
bow; they had no notion that men might be carried by animals; they
supposed the ocean an immense space, impassable by man, and bounded
only by the sky to which it was joined. It is true that after they had
been several years in contriving to scoop out the trunk of a great
tree, they ventured to commit themselves to the water in this rude
sort of vessel, and went from one country to another, borne along by
the winds and waves: but as their bark was very liable to be overset,
they were frequently under the necessity of swimming to overtake it,
so that properly speaking they were oftener in the water than in their
ship. You must suppose they would not have yielded a very implicit
credence to a person who had told them that a navigation was carried
on, incomparably superior to theirs; that by its means, every part of
the liquid expanse could be resorted to; that the vessels might be
detained at one spot whilst the billows were foaming around; that even
the speed with which they moved might be regulated; in short, that the
ocean, whatever its extent might be, was no obstacle to the commerce
of different people. In a course of time, however, notwithstanding
their incredulity, a spectacle new and astonishing presents itself
to the eyes of these savages. Enormous bodies, extending their white
wings to the blast, come sailing on the ocean with fearful rapidity,
and discharging fire on every side: these tremendous machines cast on
their shore men covered with iron; guiding with facility the monsters
that carry them, and darting thunderbolts from their hands to destroy
all who attempt to resist them.--"Whence come these awful beings? Who
hath given them power to ride on the waters, and to wield the thunder
of heaven? Are they children of the sun? assuredly they are not men!"
I cannot tell, madam, whether you feel as strongly as I do, the
surprise of the Americans; surely no event could ever have excited an
astonishment equal to theirs. After thinking of that, I will not assert
that no communication can be established between our world and the
moon. Did the Americans ever conceive the idea that there would be any
between their country and Europe, of which they had never heard? There
is, I acknowledge, an immense space of air to travel through before we
could reach the moon; but did those great seas appear to the Americans
more capable of being crossed? Really, exclaimed the Marchioness,
looking earnestly at me, you are quite mad! Who denies it? answered I.
It is impossible you _should_ deny it said she. The Americans were so
ignorant that they could not imagine the practicability of crossing
such an extent of water; but we have science enough to know that the
air is passable, although we have no machine which can transport us
through it. We do more than conjecture the possibility of rising in
the air, I replied; we have actually began to fly. Several persons
have discovered a method of fixing on wings which supported them in
the air, of moving these wings, and by their assistance, flying over
rivers; these new-fashioned birds, did not, to be sure, soar like the
eagles, and their flight has sometimes cost them an arm or a leg;
but, however, these attempts answer to the first pieces of wood that
were launched into the water, and which served for the commencement
of navigation: there was a vast difference between these mere planks
and great ships, capable of going round the world; nevertheless, by
gradual improvements we have learned to construct such vessels. The
art of flying is but in its infancy; in due time it will be brought to
perfection,[25] and some day or other we shall get to the moon. Can we
pretend to know every thing; to have made every possible discovery?
Pray let us give posterity leave to make some improvements as well as
ourselves. I won't give them leave, answered she, to break their necks
by attempting to fly. Well, I replied, though flying be not perfected
here, the inhabitants of the moon, may perhaps excel us; and it will be
the same thing whether we go to them, or they come to us. We shall then
be like the Americans who knew so little of navigation whilst it was
thoroughly understood at the other side of the globe. Pugh! cried the
Marchioness; if the people in the moon were so expert, they would have
been here before this time. The Europeans, answered I, did not find
their way to America till six thousand years had elapsed; they were
all that time in learning the art of navigation so completely as to
pass over the ocean. Probably the people in the moon are able to take
little excursions into the air, very likely they are now practising;
after they have acquired more experience they will pay us a visit, and
heaven knows what surprise it will occasion us! You are insupportable,
exclaimed she, to combat me with such chimerical arguments. Take care,
said I; if you provoke me I shall easily corroborate them. Remember
the earth has been made known to us by little and little. The ancients
positively asserted that the torrid and frozen zones were uninhabitable
from the excessive heat of the one, and cold of the others; and in
the time of the Romans the general chart of the world was made little
larger than that of their own empire, this at once shewed the grand
idea they had of themselves, and their extreme ignorance of the earth.
Men were however discovered, in these extremely hot, and intensely
cold, climates, which discovery has greatly augmented the number of
inhabitants on our globe. At one time it was believed that the ocean
covered every part of the earth except what was then known. Antipodes
had never been heard of, and who could imagine that men would be able
to walk with their heads downwards? Yet after all, the antipodes
were found out. Now the map must be altered; a new half added to the
earth!--You understand, madam, what I am aiming at; these antipodes,
so unexpectedly discovered, should teach us to think modestly of our
attainments: we may yet know much more of our own world, and then
become acquainted with the moon; till that time we must not expect
it, because our knowledge is progressive: when we understand our own
habitation, we may be permitted to study that of our neighbours. In
truth, said she, viewing me attentively, you enter into the subject so
deeply that one cannot but imagine you in earnest. Indeed I am not,
answered I; I only wished to shew you the possibility of maintaining an
extravagant opinion, so as to embarrass, though not convince, a person
of sense. Truth alone makes her way to the understanding; she can even
convince without exhibiting every proof: she is so adapted to our
capacities, that when first discovered, we seem only to have met with
an old acquaintance.
[Footnote 25: Montgolfier's balloons, invented in 1783, have gone
a great way towards the fulfilling of this prediction, but it is
evidently impossible for it to be accomplished; these globes can only
carry us to a certain height, beyond that we could not breathe.]
Ah! this restores my tranquillity, said she. Your sophistry disturbed
my imagination. Let us retire; I am now composed and inclined to go to
rest.
══════════════
_THIRD EVENING._
══════════════
The Marchioness wished to pursue our astronomical researches during the
day; but I told her that as the moon and stars were the subjects of
our whimsical conversations, they ought to be our only confidants; we
therefore waited till evening, and then took our usual ramble in the
park, which thus became sacred to learning.
I have a vast deal of news to tell you, said I; I yesterday told you
that the moon, according to all appearances, was inhabited; but I have
recollected a circumstance which would expose its inhabitants to so
much danger, that I don't know whether I shall not retract my former
opinion. Indeed I will not suffer you to retract it, answered she.
Yesterday you prepared me to receive a visit from the inhabitants of
the moon, in a few days; now you are going to refuse them a place in
the creation. You shall not trifle with me in this way. You told me
the moon was inhabited; I surmounted the difficulty of believing it,
and now I will continue to believe it. Softly! said I; we should give
but half an assent to an opinion of this nature, and reserve the other
half in case we should find the opposite idea better supported. I am
not contented with words, she replied; give me facts: remember your
comparison of the moon with St. Dennis. But, answered I, the moon is
not so similar to the earth as St. Dennis is to Paris. The sun draws
out of the earth and water exhalations, which rise to a certain height
in the air, collect together, and form themselves into clouds. These
clouds hover about the earth in irregular shapes, sometimes shadowing
one part, and sometimes another. In viewing the earth from a distance,
the appearance of its surface would continually vary, because a large
space of country darkened by a cloud would appear less luminous
than the other parts, and as the cloud dispersed, would resume its
brightness: from this cause the spots on the earth would be seen to
change their places, assume different forms, and sometimes be entirely
dissipated. If, then, the moon had clouds in its atmosphere, we should
observe this variety of spots; but we find them always confined to the
same place, which proves that the sun raises no vapours from the moon.
It is then a body incomparably more solid than the earth, and its more
subtile particles easily dissipated as soon as they are put in motion
by the heat. The moon, therefore must be a mass of rock and marble from
which no evaporation proceeds; for exhalations so naturally arise where
there is water, that we cannot admit the existence of water where they
are not found. What sort of beings do you think could inhabit these
barren rocks; this country without water? Ah! cried she, you forget
that you have assured me the seas in the moon were distinguishable.
It was a mere conjecture,[26] I replied; I am sorry to have led you
astray. These dark places that have been taken for seas are probably
only deep cavities: at so great a distance it is excusable if we don't
always guess aright. But, said she, will your objections oblige us to
conclude that the moon has no inhabitants? By no means, answered I, we
will neither decide one way or the other. I must own my weakness, she
replied; I cannot bear to remain in suspense. I must believe something:
enable me to determine; let us ascertain the existence of these
people, or let us annihilate them at once, and think no more about
them. But preserve them if possible; I have formed an attachment for
them, of which I shall not easily divest myself. I will not leave the
moon without inhabitants then, said I; for your pleasure it shall be
repeopled.
[Footnote 26: This is not, now, even conjectured, for with a telescope
we may see irregularities at the bottom of what were supposed to be
seas.]
As the spots in the moon never vary,[27] we certainly, cannot believe
that there are any surrounding clouds which successively obscure the
surrounding parts; this however is not a proof that there are no
exhalations; our clouds are formed of vapours, which at their first
rising out of the earth, were in separate particles, too small to
be visible to us; in ascending they meet with a degree of cold that
condenses, and unites them into conspicuous forms; after which they
float in the air till they dissolve in rain. But these exhalations
frequently remain dispersed and imperceptible, and fall back on the
ground in gentle dews. I suppose then that vapours of this kind are
exhaled from the moon, for it is incredible that the moon should be
a large mass, composed of parts all equally solid, all in a state of
equal tranquillity, all incapable of being influenced by the action
of the sun. We know of no body which has these properties, not even
marble. The most dense bodies are subject to change, either from some
secret and interior motion, or from the action of external matter. As
the exhalations from the moon, do not form themselves into clouds, and
return in showers, they can only become dew; for that purpose it is not
necessary that the atmosphere, which apparently adheres to the moon as
ours does to the earth, should be exactly similar to our air, nor the
vapours exactly like ours; and that I think is probably the case:[28]
the matter must have a different disposition in the moon, from that
in the earth; consequently the effects be different; however all that
is of no importance; since we find that there is motion in the parts
of the moon, either internal, or produced by foreign causes, we may
again people it, as we have the means of affording them subsistence; of
producing fruit, corn, water, and every thing that is needful. I mean
fruit, corn, &c. such as the moon can produce, the nature of which I
am unacquainted with; and all these in proportion to the wants of its
inhabitants, of which I am likewise ignorant.
[Footnote 27: M. Herschel has observed variations in them; which he,
with certainty, attributes to the industry of the inhabitants.]
[Footnote 28: The atmosphere of the moon, if there be any, is quite
invisible to us.]
That is to say, answered the Marchioness, you are sure every thing is
right, without knowing how it is; here is a little knowledge placed
against a great deal of ignorance, but we must be content with it: I
am very happy to have inhabitants restored to the moon; I am glad also
that you give them a surrounding atmosphere, for it seems to me that a
planet would be too naked without one.
These two different airs, said I, one belonging to the earth, the other
to the moon, tend to prevent the communication between the two planets.
If it merely depended on the power of flying, who knows, as I yesterday
said, but we may at some future time be sufficiently expert? All things
considered, I think we must not expect this communication; the amazing
distance at which they are placed, would be a considerable difficulty;
and were this obstacle removed; were the two planets nearer together,
it would be impossible to pass from one atmosphere to the other. Water
is the atmosphere of fishes; they never pass into that of birds, nor
the birds into theirs: they are not prevented by the distance, but the
existence of both depends on their proper element. Our air, we find,
is mixed with more dense and gross vapours than that of the moon;
therefore an inhabitant of that world would be drowned if he entered
our atmosphere, and fall lifeless on the earth.
Oh! how glad I should be, exclaimed the Marchioness, for a shipwreck to
cast a good number of them on the earth, we might then examine them at
our leisure. But, I replied, if they were clever enough to navigate
the surface of our atmosphere, and from a curiosity to examine us,
should be tempted to draw us up like fishes; would that please you? Why
not? answered she, laughing. I would voluntarily put myself in their
nets, just for the pleasure of seeing the fishers.
Remember, said I, you would be very ill by the time you reached the
top of our air; we are not capable of breathing it above a certain
height;[29] it is said that at the summit of some mountains we can
scarcely do it. I wonder that people who are silly enough to believe
that corporeal genii inhabit the purest regions of the air, should not
tell us, as the reason for our receiving such short and unfrequent
visits from these genii, that few of them understand diving, and even
those who excel in it cannot remain long in our gross air.
[Footnote 29: Respiration is difficult at the height of a league. Half
a league higher it must be impossible.]
We see then there are many things to prevent us from leaving our own
world and going to the moon. To console ourselves let us guess all we
can about it. In the first place I conjecture that the inhabitants must
see the heavens, the sun and the stars of a very different colour from
what they appear to us. We view those objects through a sort of glass
which alters their appearance; this glass is our atmosphere, pervaded
with exhalations. Some moderns assert that it is blue as well as the
sea, but we can only distinguish the colour in the parts of those
elements that are most remote from the eye. The firmament, say they,
in which are the fixed stars, has no light in itself, and consequently
ought to appear black,[30] but as we see it through our blue air, it
seems to us to be blue. If that is true, the rays of the sun and stars
cannot pass through the air without receiving a slight tinge from its
colour, and losing a degree of that which is natural to them. But
supposing the air is not coloured, it is certain that through a thick
fog the light of a flambeau, seen at some distance, appears of a deep
red, which is not its real colour; if therefore our air be considered
only a mist, it must necessarily alter the colour of the sky, sun, and
stars. The celestial fluid alone could give us light and colours in
their original state. Therefore as the atmosphere of the moon differs
from ours, it is either of a different colour, or else it is another
sort of mist, which varies the appearance of the celestial bodies. In a
word, the glass through which the people in the moon view these objects
is of a different nature to ours.
[Footnote 30: Desaussure tells us it appears black when viewed at a
league's distance from the earth.]
On that account, replied the Marchioness, I prefer our world to the
moon; I think it impossible for the assortment of colours presented to
their sight by the heavenly bodies to be so beautiful as that they form
when viewed through the medium of our air. Let us suppose a red sky and
green stars; the effect is not so agreeable as golden stars and a blue
sky. One would think, said I, you were chusing clothes or furniture;
but believe me, nature has a good taste; let us trust to her for
providing a set of colours for the moon, there is no fear but it will
be a pleasing one. She has undoubtedly varied the appearance of the
universe at each different point of view, and in all these varieties
there is great beauty.
I acknowledge her talents, answered she; at each point of view she
has placed a different sort of glass, by which mean she has given the
appearance of variety to objects which remain always the same. With a
blue atmosphere, we have a blue sky, and perhaps with a red atmosphere,
the inhabitants of the moon have a red sky; yet this sky is absolutely
the same. In like manner she seems to have placed various sorts of
glasses before the eyes of our imagination, through which the same
object presents to each of us a different appearance. To Alexander, the
earth appeared a proper place to convert into an empire, for his sway;
Celadon, viewed it only as a fit residence for Astrea; a philosopher
considers it a large planet, travelling through the heavens, and
inhabited by a number of madmen. I think the spectacle of nature cannot
be more varied than the prospects of different imaginations.
The varied appearance of objects viewed by the imagination, I replied,
is the most surprising, for they are exactly the same things though
apparently so dissimilar: whereas there may be other natural objects
visible to the moon, and some that are visible to us may not be seen
there; perhaps, for instance, there is neither dawn nor twilight. The
air that surrounds us, rises to some height, receives the rays of
light that would not reach the earth, and by its density, detains, and
conveys to us a part of this light which was apparently not destined
for us: thus you see the dawn and twilight are particular favours
conferred on us by nature; they are degrees of light to which we are
not regularly entitled, and which are bestowed on us in addition to
our share. But the atmosphere of the moon, being purer than ours, is
probably not so well calculated to reflect the rays which it receives
before the sun is risen, or after it is set. The poor inhabitants have
not then this light, which by its gradual increase prepares us so
agreeably for the brilliancy of the sun; and in the evening reconciles
us to its loss, by a progressive diminution. The moon, after the
profound gloom of night, receives the ardent blaze of the sun, as if
by the instantaneous drawing up of a curtain: on the contrary, whilst
still enjoying the dazzling light of day, it is again plunged into
extreme darkness: day and night are not connected by an agreeable
medium, partaking of both. The people in the moon never see the
rainbow; for as the dawn is produced by the thickness of our air and
vapours, so the rainbow is formed in the clouds which are dispersed
in rain; thus we are indebted for the most beautiful appearances in
nature, to things, in themselves, far from agreeable. Since the moon
has neither dense vapours nor rainy clouds, farewell to Aurora, and the
Rainbow! Alas! to what can they liken the beauties of that country;
what a source of comparison are they deprived of!
I should not much regret those comparisons, answered the Marchioness;
and I think the inhabitants of the moon have ample amends made them
for the loss of rainbows and twilight by being exempted from thunder
and lightning; for these likewise are formed in the clouds. They have
constant serenity of weather; never losing sight of the sun. They
have no gloomy nights in which the stars are concealed. They are
unacquainted with those storms and tempests; those elemental wars which
seem to indicate the wrath of heaven. Are they then to be pitied? You
speak of the moon as an enchanting spot, said I; yet I don't know
whether it is very delightful to be exposed throughout a day that is as
long as our fortnight[31] to a blazing sun, without a cloud to temper
the intensity of its heat. It is perhaps owing to this that nature has
formed cavities in the moon, large enough to be seen by our telescopes;
they are not valleys situated between mountains, but hollow places in
the midst of large plains. How do we know whether the inhabitants,
oppressed by the perpetual radiance of the sun, may not take refuge in
these caverns? Perhaps they even build towns, and constantly reside in
these parts. We see that here our subterraneous Rome is larger than
the Rome which is built on the surface: we have only to remove the
latter, and the other would be a city such as we should find in the
moon. A large number of the people dwell in each cavern, and from one
cavern to another is a subterraneous passage for the communication
of the inhabitants. You laugh at this idea; I have no objection: but
seriously, I think you are more likely to be mistaken than I. You
believe the people in the moon must dwell on the surface, because we
are on the surface of our globe; you should form quite a different
opinion, and think that because we reside on the surface they dwell in
the interior parts; every thing must be very differently conducted here
and in the moon.
[Footnote 31: During this time the sun rises and sets as it does in our
day.]
It does not signify, replied the Marchioness; I can't bear the idea
of these people living in perpetual darkness. You would find it still
more difficult to admit the opinion, said I, if you knew that a great
philosopher of ancient times had informed us that the moon was the
dwelling of souls who had on earth rendered themselves worthy of
very exalted happiness. He supposes that their felicity consists in
listening to the music of the spheres; but that when the moon comes
under the shadow of the earth, they are no longer able to hear this
celestial harmony, at which time they utter the most piercing cries,
and the moon hastens on as fast as possible to relieve them from this
agonizing situation. We may expect then, answered she, to have the
virtuous spirits sent here from the moon, for I suppose they likewise
honour our world by making it an abode of the blessed: so in these
two planets it is thought a sufficient reward to superior goodness
for the soul to be transported from one world to the other. Really,
I replied, it would not be a trifling enjoyment to take a survey of
different worlds; I often receive a great deal of pleasure from such a
journey, although but in imagination; what must it be then to perform
it in reality? It would be much more delightful than going from here
to Japan; in other words, than crawling from one end of the earth to
the other with great labour, merely for the sake of seeing men. Well,
said she, let us make this tour to the planets as we can; what should
prevent us? We will place ourselves at all those different points of
view, and at each of them survey the universe. Have we any thing else
to see in the moon? You are not yet thoroughly acquainted with that
world, I replied. You recollect that the two motions of the moon, by
one of which she turns on her axis, and by the other round us, being
equal, the latter always prevents the former from withdrawing any
part from our sight, and consequently we always view the same side.
That half therefore is the only part that can see our world, and as
the moon, with regard to us, must be considered not to turn on her
centre, the half to which we are visible, sees us always fixed in the
same part of the sky.[32] When it is night, and the nights there are
as long as our fortnight, she sees at first only a very small part
of the earth enlightened; then a larger portion, and at length the
light seems hourly to spread over the earth, till it becomes entirely
luminous. On the contrary these changes in the moon are visible to
us only from one night to another, because we are a long time without
seeing her. I should like to hear the mistakes which the philosophers
of that world fall into from the apparent immobility of our earth,
whilst all the other heavenly bodies rise and set in the space of a
fortnight. Probably they consider the earth immovable in consequence
of her enormous size, being sixty times larger than the moon; and when
the poets are disposed to flatter indolent princes, I have no doubt
but they compare them to this orb in her state of majestic repose. It
does not however appear an entire immobility. From the moon they must
see the earth turn on her axis. Our Europe, Asia, America, present
themselves one after another, in different shapes, nearly as they are
represented on our maps. Only imagine what a novel sight this must be
to travellers coming from the other side of the moon to that which is
always facing us! How incredulously _they_ must have heard the accounts
of the first that spoke of it, who lived at the opposite side. It is
come into my head, said the Marchioness, that from that half of the
moon to the other they make pilgrimages to come and examine us, and
that particular honours and privileges are destined for those who have
seen the great planet. At least, answered I, they who constantly see us
have the privilege of being better illumined during their nights; the
inhabitants of the other side must be much less agreeably situated in
that respect.
[Footnote 32: That is to say only at the same distance from the zenith
and the horizon.]
Now, madam, let us pursue our journey to the different planets; we
have been long enough at the moon. Next, in the road from the moon to
the sun, we find Venus. In talking of Venus I shall resume my argument
concerning St. Dennis. Venus, as well as the moon, turns on her axis
and goes round the sun: with telescopes it is seen that this planet,
like the moon, is sometimes a crescent, sometimes on the decrease
sometimes full, according to her different situations relatively to
the earth. The moon, according to all appearances, is inhabited; why
then should Venus be destitute of inhabitants? But, interrupted the
Marchioness, with your _why nots_ you will put inhabitants in all the
planets. Certainly, I replied, this _why not_ has the power of peopling
them all. We find that they are of the same nature, all opaque bodies,
illumined only by the sun, and the reflection of his rays on each
other; and having all the same motions. So far then they are alike,
and yet we are to suppose that these great planets were formed to
remain uninhabited, and that such being the natural condition of them
all, an exception should be made in favour of the earth--let who will
believe it; I cannot. A few minutes, answered she, have wonderfully
confirmed your opinion. Just now the moon was on the point of being
quite deserted, and you cared very little about the matter, and now,
if one were to presume to deny that all the planets are as full of
inhabitants as the earth, I see you would be quite in a passion. It
is true, said I, that in the positive fit I had just now, if you had
contradicted me on the subject of these said inhabitants, I should
not only have maintained their existence, but in all probability have
described their formation. There are certain moments when we feel
assured of a thing, and I never felt so fully persuaded of my opinion
as I was then; however, though my ardour is now a little abated, I
still think it would be very strange for the earth to be so well
inhabited, and the other planets perfectly solitary; and numerous as we
know the inhabitants of the earth to be, we do not see them all, our
world contains as many species of animals that are invisible to us, as
of those that we discern. From the elephant to the hand-worm we can
examine them; there our sight is bounded: but after the hand-worm is an
infinitude of little animals not discernible by the naked eye, and to
which, in point of size, he is an elephant. With magnifying glasses,
we may see a drop of water, vinegar, or any other liquor, filled with
little fishes or serpents, which we should never have thought of
finding there; and some philosophers suppose the taste of these liquors
is produced by punctures which the little animals make in the tongue.
Mix these liquors with certain things, expose them to the sun, or leave
it to corrupt, and you will find new sorts of animals.