And this earth in the sky of the moon—smooth and bland and featureless
earth—or one of the scenes that make it divine and appalling—jaws of
this earth, as seem to be rims of more or less parallel mountain ranges,
still shining in sunlight, but surrounded by darkness—
And, upon the moon, the assembling of the Chiaroscuroans, or the lunar
communicationists who seek to be intelligible to this earth by means of
lights and shades, patterned upon Linné by their own forms and costumes.
The Great Pyramid of Linné, at night upon the moon—it stands out as a
bold black triangularity pointing to this earth. It slowly suffuses
white—the upward drift of white-clad forms, upon the slopes of the
Pyramid. The jaws of this earth seem to munch, in variable light. There
is no other response. Devotions are the food of the gods.
Upon August 6, 1867, Buckingham saw upon Linné, which was in darkness,
“a rising oval spot” (_Rept. B. A._, 1867-7). In October, 1867, Linné
was seen as a convex white spot (_Rept. B. A._, 1867-8).
* * * * *
Also it may be that the moon is not inhabited, and is not habitable.
There are many astronomers who say that the moon has virtually no
atmosphere, because when a star is passed over by the moon, the star is
not refracted, according to them. See Clerke’s _History of Astronomy_,
p. 264—that, basing his calculations upon the fact that a star is never
refracted out of place when occulted by the moon, Prof. Comstock, of
Washburn Observatory, had determined that this earth’s atmosphere is
5,000 times as dense as the moon’s.
I did think that in this secondary survey of ours we had pretty well
shaken off our old opposition, the astronomers: however, with something
of the kindliness that one feels for renewed meeting with the familiar,
here we are at home with the same old kind of demonstrations: the basing
of laborious calculations upon something that is not so—
See index of _Monthly Notices, R. A. S._—many instances of stars that
have been refracted out of place when occulted by the moon. See the
_Observatory_, 24-210, 313, 315, 345, 414; _English Mechanic_, 23-197,
279; 26-229; 52-index, “atmosphere”; 81-60; 84-161; 85-108.
In the year 1821, Gruithuisen announced that he had discovered a city of
the moon. He described its main thoroughfare and branching streets. In
1826, he announced that there had been considerable building, and that
he had seen new streets. This formation, which is north of the crater
Schroeter, has often been examined by disagreeing astronomers: for a
sketch of it, in which a central line and radiating lines are shown, see
the _English Mechanic_, 18-638. There is one especial object upon the
moon that has been described and photographed and sketched so often that
I shall not go into the subject. For many records of observations, see
the _English Mechanic_ and _L’Astronomie_. It is an object shaped like a
sword, near the crater Birt. Anyone with an impression of the transept
of a cathedral, may see the architectural here. Or it may be a mound
similar to the mounds of North America that have so logically been
attributed to the Mound Builders. In a letter, published in the
_Astronomical Register_, 20-167, Mr. Birmingham calls attention to a
formation that suggests the architectural upon the moon—“a group of
three hills in a slightly acute-angled triangle, and connected by three
lower embankments.” There is a geometric object, or marking, shaped like
an “X,” in the crater Eratosthenes (_Sci. Amer. Sup._, 59-24, 469);
striking symbolic-looking thing or sign, or attempt by means of
something obviously not topographic, to attract attention upon this
earth, in the crater Plinius (_Eng. Mec._, 35-34); reticulations, like
those of a city’s squares, in Plato (_Eng. Mec._, 64-253); and there is
a structural-looking composition of angular lines in Gassendi (_Eng.
Mec._, 101-466). Upon the floor of Littrow are six or seven spots
arranged in the form of the Greek letter _Gamma_ (_Eng. Mec._, 101-47).
This arrangement may be of recent origin, having been discovered Jan.
31, 1915. The Greek letter makes difficulty only for those who do not
want to think easily upon this subject. For a representation of
something that looked like a curved wall upon the moon, see
_L’Astronomie_, 1888-110. As to appearances like viaducts, see
_L’Astronomie_, 1885-213. The lunar craters are not in all instances the
simple cirques that they are commonly supposed to be. I have many
different impressions of some of them: I remember one sketch that looked
like an owl with a napkin tucked under his beak. However, it may be that
the general style of architecture upon the moon is Byzantine, very
likely, or not so likely, domed with glass, giving the dome-effect that
has so often been commented upon.
So then the little nearby moon—and it is populated by Lilliputians.
However our experience with agreeing ideas having been what it has been,
we suspect that the lunarians are giants. Having reasonably determined
that the moon is one hundred miles in diameter, we suppose it is
considerably more or less.
* * * * *
A group of astronomers had been observing extraordinary lights in the
lunar crater Plato. The lights had definite arrangement. They were so
individualized that Birt and Elger, and the other selenographers, who
had combined to study them, had charted and numbered them. They were
fixed in position, but rose and fell in intensity.
It does seem to me that we have data of one school of communicationists
after another coming into control of efforts upon the moon. At first our
data related to single lights. They were extraordinary, and they seem to
me to have been signals, but there seemed to be nothing of the
organization that now does seem to be creeping into the fragmentary
material that is the best that we can find. The grouped lights in Plato
were so distinctive, so clear and even brilliant, that if such lights
had ever shone before, it seems that they must have been seen by the
Schroeters, Gruithuisens, Beers and Mädlers, who had studied and charted
the features of the moon. For several of Gledhill’s observations, from
which I derive my impressions of these lights, see _Rept. B. A._,
1871-80—“I can only liken them to the small discs of stars, seen in the
transit-instrument”; “just like small stars in the transit instrument,
upon a windy night!”
In August and September, 1869, occurred a notable illumination of the
spots in Group I. It was accompanied by a single light upon a distant
spot. February and March, 1870—illumination of another group.
April 17, 1870—another illumination in Plato, but back to the first
group.
As to his observations of May 10-12, 1870, Birt gives his opinion that
the lights of Plato were not effects of sunlight.
Upon the 13th of May, 1870, there was an “extraordinary display,”
according to Birt: 27 lights were seen by Pratt, and 28 by Elger, but
only 4 by Gledhill, in Brighton. Atmospheric conditions may have made
this difference, or the lights may have run up or down a scale from 4 to
28. As to independence of sunlight, Pratt says (_Rept. B. A._, 1871-88)
as to this display, that only the fixed, charted points so shone, and
that other parts of the crater were not illuminated, as they would have
been to an incidence common throughout. In Pratt’s opinion, and, I
think, in the opinion of the other observers, these lights were
volcanic. It seems to me that this opinion arose from a feeling that
there should be something of an opinion: the idea that the lights might
have been signals was not expressed by any of these astronomers that I
know of. I note that, though many observers were, at this time,
concentrating upon this one crater, there are no records findable by me
of such disturbance of detail as might be supposed to accompany volcanic
action. The clear little lights seem to me to have been anything but
volcanic.
The play of these lights of Plato—their modulations and their
combinations—like luminous music—or a composition of signals in a code
that even in this late day may be deciphered. It was like
orchestration—and that something like a baton gave direction to Light
22, upon August 12, 1870, to shine a leading part—“remarkable increase
of brightness.” No. 22 subsided, and the leading part shone out in No.
14. It, too, subsided, and No. 16 brightened.
Perhaps there were definite messages in a Morse-like code. There is a
chance for the electricity in somebody’s imagination to start crackling.
Up to April, 1871, the selenographers had recorded 1,600 observations
upon the fluctuations of the lights of Plato, and had drawn 37 graphs of
individual lights. All graphs and other records were deposited by W. R.
Birt in the Library of the Royal Astronomical Society, where presumably
they are to this day. A Champollion may some day decipher hieroglyphics
that may have been flashed from one world to another.