_Continuation of the voyage--View of Europe; Atlantic Ocean; America--
Speculations on the future destiny of the United States--Moral reflections
--Pacific Ocean--Hypothesis on the origin of the Moon._
By this time the whole Mediterranean Sea, which, with the Arabian Gulf,
was seen to separate Africa from Europe and Asia, was full in our view.
The political divisions of these quarters of the world were, of course,
undistinguishable; and few of the natural were discernible by the naked
eye. The Alps were marked by a white streak, though less bright than the
water. By the aid of our glass, we could just discern the Danube, the
Nile, and a river which empties itself into the Gulf of Guinea, and which
I took to be the Niger: but the other streams were not perceptible. The
most conspicuous object of the solid part of the globe, was the Great
Desert before mentioned. The whole of Africa, indeed, was of a lighter hue
than either Asia or Europe, owing, I presume, to its having a greater
proportion of sandy soil: and I could not avoid contrasting, in my mind,
the colour of these continents, as they now appeared, with the complexions
of their respective inhabitants.
I was struck too, with the vast disproportion which the extent of the
several countries of the earth bore to the part they had acted in history,
and the influence they had exerted on human affairs. The British islands
had diminished to a speck, and France was little larger; yet, a few
years ago it seemed, at least to us in the United States, as if there
were no other nations on the earth. The Brahmin, who was well read in
European history, on my making a remark on this subject, reminded me that
Athens and Sparta had once obtained almost equal celebrity, although
they were so small as not now to be visible. As I slowly passed the
telescope over the face of Europe, I pictured to myself the fat, plodding
Hollander--the patient, contemplative German--the ingenious, sensual
Italian--the temperate Swiss--the haughty, superstitious Spaniard--the
sprightly, self-complacent Frenchman--the sullen and reflecting Englishman
--who monopolize nearly all the science and literature of the earth,
to which they bear so small a proportion. As the Atlantic fell under our
view, two faint circles on each side of the equator, were to be perceived
by the naked eye. They were less bright than the rest of the ocean. The
Brahmin suggested that they might be currents; which brought to my memory
Dr. Franklin's conjecture on the subject, now completely verified by this
circular line of vapour, as it had been previously rendered probable by
the floating substances, which had been occasionally picked up, at great
distances from the places where they had been thrown into the ocean. The
circle was whiter and more distinct, where the Gulf Stream runs parallel
to the American coast, and gradually grew fainter as it passed along the
Banks of Newfoundland, to the coast of Europe, where, taking a southerly
direction, the line of the circle was barely discernible. A similar circle
of vapour, though less defined and complete, was perceived in the South
Atlantic Ocean.
When the coast of my own beloved country first presented itself to my
view, I experienced the liveliest emotions; and I felt so anxious to see
my children and friends, that I would gladly have given up all the
promised pleasures of our expedition. I even ventured to hint my feelings
to the Brahmin; but he, gently rebuking my impatience, said--
"If to return home had been your only object, and not to see what not one
of your nation or race has ever yet seen, you ought to have so informed
me, that we might have arranged matters accordingly. I do not wish you
to return to your country, until you will be enabled to make yourself
welcome and useful there, by what you may see in the lunar world. Take
courage, then, my friend; you have passed the worst; and, as the proverb
says, do not, when you have swallowed the ox, now choke at the tail.
Besides, although we made all possible haste in descending, we should,
ere we reached the surface, find ourselves to the west of your continent,
and be compelled then to choose between some part of Asia or the Pacific
Ocean."
"Let us then proceed," said I, mortified at the imputation on my courage,
and influenced yet more, perhaps, by the last argument. The Brahmin then
tried to soothe my disappointment, by his remarks on my native land.
"I have a great curiosity," said he, "to see a country where a man, by
his labour, can earn as much in a month as will procure him bread, and
meat too, for the whole year; in a week, as will pay his dues to the
government; and in one or two days, as will buy him an acre of good land:
where every man preaches whatever religion he pleases; where the priests
of the different sects never fight, and seldom quarrel; and, stranger
than all, where the authority of government derives no aid from an army,
and that of the priests no support from the law."
I told him, when he should see these things in operation with his
own eyes, as I trusted he would, if it pleased heaven to favour our
undertakings, they would appear less strange. I reminded him of the
peculiar circumstances under which our countrymen had commenced their
career.
"In all other countries," said I, "civilization and population have
gone hand in hand; and the necessity of an increasing subsistence
for increasing numbers, has been the parent of useful arts and of
social improvement. In every successive stage of their advancement,
such countries have equally felt the evils occasioned by a scanty and
precarious subsistence. In America, however, the people are in the full
enjoyment of all the arts of civilization, while they are unrestricted
in their means of subsistence, and consequently in their power of
multiplication. From this singular state of things, two consequences
result. One is, that the progress of the nation in wealth, power, and
greatness, is more rapid than the world has ever before witnessed.
Another is, that our people, being less cramped and fettered by their
necessities, and feeling, of course, less of those moral evils which
poverty and discomfort engender, their character, moral and intellectual,
will be developed and matured with greater celerity, and, I incline
to think, carried to a higher point of excellence than has ever yet
been attained. I anticipate for them the eloquence and art of Athens--the
courage and love of country of Sparta--the constancy and military prowess
of the Romans--the science and literature of England and France--the
industry of the Dutch--the temperance and obedience to the laws of the
Swiss. In fifty years, their numbers will amount to forty millions; in
a century, to one hundred and sixty millions; in two centuries, (allowing
for a decreasing rate of multiplication,) to three or four hundred
millions. Nor does it seem impossible that, from the structure of their
government, they may continue united for a few great national purposes,
while each State may make the laws that are suited to its peculiar habits,
character, and circumstances. In another half century, they will extend
the Christian religion and the English language to the Pacific Ocean.
"To the south of them, on the same continent, other great nations will
arise, who, if they were to be equally united, might contend in terrible
conflicts for the mastery of this great continent, and even of the world.
But when they shall be completely liberated from the yoke of Spanish
dominion, and have for some time enjoyed that full possession of their
faculties and energies which liberty only can give, they will probably
split into distinct States. United, at first, by the sympathy of men
struggling in the same cause, and by similarity of manners and religion,
they will, after a while, do as men always have done, quarrel and fight;
and these wars will check their social improvement, and mar their
political hopes. Whether they will successively fall under the dominion
of one able and fortunate leader, or, like the motley sovereignties of
Europe, preserve their integrity by their mutual jealousy, time only can
show."
"Your reasoning about the natives of Spanish America appears very
probable," said the Brahmin; "but is it not equally applicable to your
own country ?"
I reminded him of the peculiar advantages of our government. He shook
his head.
"No, Atterley," said he, "do not deceive yourself. The duration of every
species of polity is uncertain; the works of nature alone are permanent.
The motions of the heavenly bodies are the same as they were thousands
of years ago. But not so with the works of man. He is the identical animal
that he ever was. His political institutions, however cunningly devised,
have always been yet more perishable than his structures of stone and
marble. This is according to all past history: and do not, therefore,
count upon an exception in your favour, that would be little short of
the miraculous. But," he good-naturedly added, "such a miracle may take
place in your system; and, although I do not expect it, I sincerely
wish it."
We were now able to see one half of the broad expanse of the Pacific,
which glistened with the brightness of quicksilver or polished steel.
"Cast your eyes to the north," said he, "and see where your continent
and mine approach so near as almost to touch. Both these coasts are
at this time thinly inhabited by a rude and miserable people, whose
whole time is spent in struggling against the rigours of their dreary
climate, and the scantiness of its productions. Yet, perhaps the Indians
and the Kamtschadales will be gradually moulded into a hardy, civilized
people: and here may be the scene of many a fierce conflict between your
people and the Russians, whose numbers, now four times as great as yours,
increase almost as rapidly."
He then amused me with accounts of the manners and mode of life of the
Hyperborean race, with whom he had once passed a summer. Glancing my eye
then to the south,--"See," said I, "while the Kamtschadale is providing
his supply of furs and of fish, for the long winter which is already
knocking at the door of his hut, the gay and voluptuous native of the
Sandwich and other islands between the tropics. How striking the contrast!
The one passes his life in ease, abundance, and enjoyment; the other in
toil, privation, and care. No inclemency of the seasons inflicts present
suffering on these happy islanders, or brings apprehensions for the
future. Nature presents them with her most delicious fruits spontaneously
and abundantly; and she has implanted in their breast a lively relish for
the favours she so lavishly bestows upon them."
The Brahmin, after musing a while, replied: "The difference is far less
than you imagine. Perhaps, on balancing their respective pleasures and
pains, the superior gain of the islander will be reduced to nothing: for,
as to the simplest source of gratification, that of palatable food, if
nature produces it more liberally in the islands, she also produces there
more mouths to consume it. The richest Kamtschadale may, indeed, oftener
go without a dinner than the richest Otaheitan; but it may be quite the
reverse with the poorest. Then, as to quality of the food: if nature
has provided more delicious fruits for the natives of tropical climates,
she has given a sharper appetite and stronger digestion to the Hyperborean,
which equalizes the sum of their enjoyments. A dry crust is relished, when
an individual is hungry, more than the most savoury and delicate dainties
when he is in a fever; and water to one man, is a more delicious beverage
than the juice of the grape or of the palm to another. As to the necessity
for labour, which is ever pressing on the inhabitants of cold countries,
it is this consequent and incessant activity which gives health to their
bodies, and cheerful vigour to their minds; since, without such exercise,
man would have been ever a prey to disease and discontent. And, if no
other occupation be provided for the mind of man, it carves out employment
for itself in vain regrets and gloomy forebodings--in jealousy, envy, and
the indulgence of every hateful and tormenting passion: hence the
proverb,--'If you want corn, cultivate your soil; if you want weeds, let
it alone.'
"But again: the native of those sunny isles is never sensible of the
bounty of Providence, till he is deprived of it. Here, as well as every
where else, desire outgoes gratification. Man sees or fancies much that
he cannot obtain; and in his regret for what he wants, forgets what he
already possesses. What is it to one with a tooth-ache, that a savoury
dish is placed before him? It is the same with the mind as the body: when
pain engrosses it in one way, it cannot relish pleasure in another. Every
climate and country too, have their own evils and inconveniences."
"You think, then," said I, "that the native of Kamtschatka has the
advantage?"
"No," he rejoined, "I do not mean to say that, for the evils of his
situation are likewise very great; but they are more manifest, and
therefore less necessary to be brought to your notice."
It was now, by our time-pieces, about two o'clock in the afternoon--that
is, two hours had elapsed since we left terra firma; and, saving a few
biscuits and a glass of cordial a-piece, we had not taken any sort of
refreshment. The Brahmin proposed that we now should dine; and, opening
a small case, and drawing forth a cold fowl, a piece of dried goat's
flesh, a small pot of ghee, some biscuits, and a bottle of arrack
flavoured with ginger and spices, with a larger one of water, we ate as
heartily as we had ever done at the hermitage; the slight motion of our
machine to one side or the other, whenever we moved, giving us nearly
as much exercise as a vessel in a smooth sea. The animal food had been
provided for me, for the Brahmin satisfied his hunger with the ghee,
sweetmeats, and biscuit, and ate sparingly even of them. We each took
two glasses of the cordial diluted with water, and carefully putting
back the fragments, again turned our thoughts to the planet we had left.
The middle of the Pacific now lay immediately beneath us. I had never
before been struck with the irregular distribution of land and water on
our globe, the expanse of ocean here being twice as large as in any
other part; and, on remarking this striking difference to the Brahmin,
he replied:
"It is the opinion of some philosophers in the moon, that their globe
is a fragment of ours; and, as they can see every part of the earth's
surface, they believe the Pacific was the place from which the moon was
ejected. They pretend that a short, but consistent tradition of the
disruption, has regularly been transmitted from remote antiquity; and
they draw confirmation of their hypothesis from many words of the Chinese,
and other Orientals, with whom they claim affinity."
"Ridiculous!" said I; "the moon is one-fourth the diameter of the earth;
and if the two were united in one sphere, the highest mountains must
have been submerged, and of course there would have been no human
inhabitants; or, if any part of the land was then bare, on the waters
retiring to fill up the chasm made by the separation of so large a body
as the moon, the parts before habitable would be, instead of two, three,
or at most four miles, as your Himalah mountains are said to be, some
twenty or thirty miles above the level of the ocean."
"That is not quite so certain," said he: "we know not of what the interior
of the earth is composed, any more than we could distinguish the contents
of an egg, by penetrating one hundredth part of its shell. But we see,
that if one drop of water be united with another, they form one large
drop, as spherical as either of the two which composed it: and on the
separation of the moon from the earth, if they were composed of mingled
solids and fluids, or if the solid parts rested on fluid, both the
fragment and the remaining earth would assume the same globular appearance
they now present.
"On this subject, however, I give no opinion. I only say, that it is not
contradicted by the facts you have mentioned. The fluid and the solid
parts settling down into a new sphere, might still retain nearly their
former proportion: or, if the fragment took away a greater proportion
of solid than of fluid, then the waters retiring to fill up the cavity,
would leave parts bare which they had formerly covered. There are some
facts which give a colour to this supposition; for most of the high
mountains of the earth afford evidence of former submersion; and those
which are the highest, the Himalah, are situated in the country to which
the origin of civilization, and even the human species itself, may be
traced. The moon too, we know, has much less water than the earth: and
all those appearances of violence, which have so puzzled cosmogonists,
the topsy-turvy position in which vegetable substances are occasionally
found beneath the soil on which they grew, and the clear manifestations
of the action of water, in the formation of strata, in the undulating
forms it has left, and in the correspondent salient and retiring angles
of mountains and opposite coasts, were all caused by the disruption;
and as the moon has a smaller proportion of water than the earth, she
has also the highest mountains."
"But, father," said I, "the diameter of the earth being but four times
as large as that of the moon, how can the violent separation of so large
a portion of our planet be accounted for? Where is the mighty agent to
rend off such a mass, and throw it to thirty times the earth's diameter?"
"Upon that subject," said he, "the Lunarian sages are much divided.
Many hypotheses have been suggested on the subject, some of which are
very ingenious, and all very fanciful: but the two most celebrated, and
into which all the others are now merged, are those of Neerlego and
Darcandarca; the former of whom, in a treatise extending to nine quarto
volumes, has maintained that the disruption was caused by a comet; and
the latter, in a work yet more voluminous, has endeavoured to prove, that
when the materials of the moon composed a part of the earth, this planet
contained large masses of water, which, though the particles cohered with
each other, were disposed to fly off from the earth; and that, by an
accumulation of the electric fluid, according to laws which he has
attempted to explain, the force was at length sufficient to heave the
rocks which encompassed these masses, from their beds, and to project
them from the earth, when, partaking of the earth's diurnal motion, they
assumed a spherical form, and revolved around it. And further, that
because the moon is composed of two sorts of matter, that are differently
affected towards the earth in its revolution round that planet, the same
parts of its surface always maintain some relative position to us, which
thus necessarily causes the singularity of her turning on her axis
precisely in the time in which she revolves round the earth."
"I see," said I, "that doctors differ and dispute about their own fancies
every where."
"That is," said he, "because they contend as vehemently for what they
imagine as for what they see; and perhaps more so, as their _perceptions_
are like those of other men, while their _reveries_ are more exclusively
their own. Thus, in the present instance, the controversy turns upon the
mode in which the separation was effected, which affords the widest field
for conjecture, while they both agree that such separation has taken
place. As to this fact I have not yet made up my mind, though it must
be confessed that there is much to give plausibility to their opinion.
I recognise, for instance, a striking resemblance between the animal
and vegetable productions of Asia and those of the moon."
"Do you think, father," said I, "that animal, or even vegetable life,
could possibly exist in such a disruption as is supposed?"
"Why not?" said he: "you are not to imagine that the shock would be felt
in proportion to the mass that was moved. On the contrary, while it would
occasion, in some parts, a great destruction of life, it would, in others,
not be felt more than an earthquake, or rather, than a succession of
earthquakes, during the time that the different parts of the mass were
adjusting themselves to a spherical form; whilst a few pairs, or even a
single pair of animals, saved in some cavity of a mountain, would be
sufficient, in a few centuries, to stock the whole surface of the earth
with as many individuals as are now to be found on it.
"After all," he added, "it is often difficult in science to distinguish
Truth from the plausibility which personates her. But let us not, however,
be precipitate; let us but hear both sides. In the east we have a saying,
that 'he who hears with but one ear, never hears well.'"