CHAPTER XVI

CAN WE COMMUNICATE WITH OTHER WORLDS?

Vastness of Nature--Star Distances--Problem of Communicating with

Mars--The Great Beyond.

A story is told of a young lady who had just graduated from boarding

school with high honors. Coming home in great glee, she cast her books

aside as she announced to her friends;--"Thank goodness it is all over,

I have nothing more to learn. I know Latin and Greek, French and German,

Spanish and Italian; I have gone through Algebra, Geometry,

Trigonometry, Conic Sections and the Calculus; I can interpret Beethoven

and Wagner, and--but why enumerate?--in short, '_I know everything_.'"

As she was thus proclaiming her knowledge her hoary-headed grandfather,

a man whom the Universities of the world had honored by affixing a

score of alphabetical letters to his name, was experimenting in his

laboratory. The lines of long and deep study had corrugated his brow

and furrowed his face. Wearily he bent over his retorts and test tubes.

At length he turned away with a heavy sigh, threw up his hands and

despairingly exclaimed,--"Alas, alas! after fifty years of study and

investigation, I find _I know nothing_."

There is a moral in this story that he who runs may read. Most of us

are like the young lady,--in the pride of our ignorance, we fancy we

know almost everything. We boast of the progress of our time, of what

has been accomplished in our modern world, we proclaim our triumphs

from the hilltops,--"Ha!" we shout, "we have annihilated time and

distance; we have conquered the forces of nature and made them

subservient to our will; we have chained the lightning and imprisoned

the thunder; we have wandered through the fields of space and measured

the dimensions and revolutions of stars and suns and planets and

systems. We have opened the eternal gates of knowledge for all to enter

and crowned man king of the universe."

Vain boasting! The gates of knowledge have been opened, but we have

merely got a peep at what lies within. And man, so far from being king

of the universe, is but as a speck on the fly-wheel that controls the

mighty machinery of creation. What we know is infinitesimal to what

we do not know. We have delved in the fields of science, but as yet

our ploughshares have merely scratched the tiniest portion of the

surface,--the furrow that lies in the distance is unending. In the

infinite book of knowledge we have just turned over a few of the first

pages; but as it is infinite, alas! we can never hope to reach the

final page, for there is no final page. What we have accomplished is

but as a mere drop in the ocean, whose waves wash the continents of

eternity. No scholar, no scientist can bound those continents, can

tell the limits to which they stretch, inasmuch as they are illimitable.

Ask the most learned _savant_ if he can fix the boundaries of space, and

he will answer,--No! Ask him if he can define _mind_ and _matter_, and

you will receive the same answer.

"What is mind? It is no matter."

"What is matter? Never mind."

The atom formerly thought to be indivisible and the smallest particle

of matter has been reduced to molecules, corpuscles, ions, and

electrons; but the nature, the primal cause of these, the greatest

scientists on earth are unable to determine. Learning is as helpless

as ignorance when brought up against this stone-wall of mystery.

_The effect_ is seen, but the _cause_ remains indeterminable. The

scientist, gray-haired in experience and experiment, knows no more

in this regard than the prattling child at its mother's knee. The child

asks,--"Who made the world?" and the mother answers, "God made the

world." The infant mind, suggestive of the future craving for knowledge,

immediately asks,--"Who is God?" Question of questions to which the

philosopher and the peasant must give the same answer,--"God is the

infinite, the eternal, the source of all things, the _alpha_ and

_omega_ of creation, from Him all came, to Him all must return."

He is the beginning of Science, the foundation on which our edifice

of knowledge rests.

We hear of the conflict between Science and Religion. There is no

conflict, can be none, for all Science must be based on faith,--faith

in Him who holds worlds and suns "in the hollow of His hand." All our

great scientists have been deeply religious men, acknowledging their

own insignificance before Him who fills the universe with His presence.

What is the universe and what place do we hold in it? The mind of man

becomes appalled in consideration of the question. The orb we know as

the sun is centre of a system of worlds of which our earth is almost

the most insignificant; yet great as is the sun when compared to the

little bit of matter on which we dwell and have our being, it is itself

but a mote, as it were, in the beam of the Universe. Formerly this sun

was thought to be fixed and immovable, but the progress of science

demonstrated that while the earth moves around this luminary, the

latter is moving with mighty velocity in an orbit of its own. Tis the

same with all the other bodies which we erroneously call "fixed stars."

These stars are the suns of other systems of worlds, countless systems,

all rushing through the immensity of space, for there is nothing fixed

or stationary in creation,--all is movement, constant, unvarying. Suns

and stars and systems perform their revolutions with unerring precision,

each unit-world true to its own course, thus proving to the soul of

reason and the consciousness of faith that there must needs be an

omnipotent hand at the lever of this grand machinery of the universe,

the hand that fashioned it, that of God. Addison beautifully expresses

the idea in referring to the revolutions of the stars:

"In reason's ear they all rejoice,

And utter forth one glorious voice,

Forever singing as they shine-

'The Hand that made us is Divine.'"

Our sun, the centre of the small system of worlds of which the earth

is one, is distant from us about ninety-three million miles. In winter

it is nearer; in summer farther off. Light travels this distance in

about eight minutes, to be exact, the rate is 186,400 miles per second.

To get an idea of the immensity of the distance of the so-called fixed

stars, let us take this as a base of comparison. The nearest fixed

star to us is _Alpha Centauri_, which is one of the brightest as

seen in the southern heavens. It requires four and one-quarter years

for a beam of light to travel from this star to earth at the rate of

186,000 miles a second, thus showing that Alpha Centauri is about two

hundred and seventy-five thousand times as far from us as is the sun,

in other words, more than 25,575,000,000,000 miles, which, expressed

in our notation, reads twenty-five trillion, five hundred and seventy-

five billion miles, a number which the mind of man is incapable of

grasping. To use the old familiar illustration of the express train,

it would take the "Twentieth Century Limited," which does the thousand

mile trip between New York and Chicago in less than twenty-four hours,

some one million two hundred and fifty thousand years at the same speed

to travel from the earth to _Alpha Centauri_. _Sirius_, the Dog-Star, is

twice as far away, something like eight or nine "light" years from our

solar system; the Pole-Star is forty-eight "light" years removed from

us, and so on with the rest, to an infinity of numbers. From the dawn of

creation in the eternal cosmos of matter, light has been travelling from

some stars in the infinitude of space at the rate of 186,000 miles per

second, but so remote are they from our system that it has not reached

us as yet. The contemplation is bewildering; the mind sinks into

nothingness in consideration of a magnitude so great and distance so

confusing. What lies beyond?--a region which numbers cannot measure and

thought cannot span, and beyond that?--the eternal answer,--GOD.

In face of the contemplation of the vastness of creation, of its

boundlessness the question ever obtrudes itself,--What place have we

mortals in the universal cosmos? What place have we finite creatures,

who inhabit this speck of matter we call the earth, in this mighty

scheme of suns and systems and never-ending space. Does the Creator

of all think us the most important of his works, that we should be the

particular objects of revelation, that for us especially heaven was

built, and a God-man, the Son of the Eternal, came down to take flesh

of our flesh and live among us, to show us the way, and finally to

offer himself as a victim to the Father to expiate our transgressions.

Mystery of mysteries before which we stand appalled and lost in wonder.

Self-styled rationalists love to point out the irrationality and

absurdity of supposing that the Creator of all the unimaginable vastness

of suns and systems, filling for all we know endless space, should

take any special interest in so mean and pitiful a creature as man,

inhabiting such an infinitesimal speck of matter as the earth, which

depends for its very life and light upon a second or third-rate or

hundred-rate Sun.

From the earliest times of our era, the sneers and taunts of atheism

and agnosticism have been directed at the humble believer, who bows

down in submission and questions not. The fathers of the Church, such

as Augustine and Chrysostom and Thomas of Aquinas and, at a later time,

Luther, and Calvin, and Knox, and Newman, despite the war of creeds,

have attacked the citadel of the scoffers; but still the latter hurl

their javelins from the ramparts, battlements and parapets and refuse

to be repulsed. If there are myriads of other worlds, thousands,

millions of them in point of magnitude greater than ours, what concern

say they has the Creator with our little atom of matter? Are other

worlds inhabited besides our own. This is the question that will not

down--that is always begging for an answer. The most learned savants

of modern time, scholars, sages, philosophers and scientists have given

it their attention, but as yet no one has been able to conclusively

decide whether a race of intelligent beings exists in any sphere other

than our own. All efforts to determine the matter result in mere

surmise, conjecture and guesswork. The best of scientists can only put

forward an opinion.

Professor Simon Newcomb, one of the most brilliant minds our country

has produced, says: "It is perfectly reasonable to suppose that beings,

not only animated but endowed with reason, inhabit countless worlds

in space." Professor Mitchell of the Cincinnati Observatory, in his

work, "Popular Astronomy," says,--"It is most incredible to assert,

as so many do, that our planet, so small and insignificant in its

proportions when compared with the planets with which it is allied,

is the only world in the whole universe filled with sentient, rational,

and intelligent beings capable of comprehending the grand mysteries

of the physical universe." Camille Flammarion, in referring to the

utter insignificance of the earth in the immensity of space, puts

forward his view thus: "If advancing with the velocity of light we

could traverse from century to century the unlimited number of suns

and spheres without ever meeting any limit to the prodigious immensity

where God brings forth his worlds, and looking behind, knowing not in

what part of the infinite was the little grain of dust called the

earth, we would be compelled to unite our voices with that universal

nature and exclaim--'Almighty God, how senseless were we to believe

that there was nothing beyond the earth and that our abode alone

possessed the privilege of reflecting Thy greatness and honor.'"

The most distinguished astronomers and scientists of a past time, as

well as many of the most famous divines, supported the contention of

world life beyond the earth. Among these may be mentioned Kepler and

Tycho, Giordano Bruno and Cardinal Cusa, Sir William and Sir John

Herschel, Dr. Bentley and Dr. Chalmers, and even Newton himself

subscribed in great measure to the belief that the planets and stars

are inhabited by intelligent beings.

Those who deny the possibility of other worlds being inhabited, endeavor

to show that our position in the universe is unique, that our solar

system is quite different from all others, and, to crown the argument,

they assert that our little world has just the right amount of water,

air, and gravitational force to enable it to be the abode of intelligent

life, whereas elsewhere, such conditions do not prevail, and that on

no other sphere can such physical habitudes be found as will enable

life to originate or to exist. It can be easily shown that such

reasoning is based on untenable foundations. Other worlds have to go

through processes of evolution, and there can be no doubt that many

are in a state similar to our own. It required hundreds of thousands,

perhaps hundreds of millions of years, before this earth was fit to

sustain human life. The same transitions which took place on earth are

taking place in other planets of our system, and other systems, and

it is but reasonable to assume that in other systems there are much

older worlds than the earth, and that these have arrived at a more

developed state of existence, and therefore have a life much higher

than our own. As far as physical conditions are concerned, there are

suns similar to our own, as revealed by the spectroscope, and which

have the same eruptive energy. Astronomical Science has incontrovertibly

demonstrated, and evidence is continually increasing to show that dark,

opaque worlds like ours exist and revolve around their primaries. Why

should not these worlds be inhabited by a race equal or even superior

in intelligence to ourselves, according to their place in the cosmos

of creation?

Leaving out of the question the outlying worlds of space, let us come

to a consideration of the nearest celestial neighbor we have in our

own system, the planet Mars: Is there rational life on Mars and if so

can we communicate with the inhabitants?

Though little more than half the earth's size, Mars has a significance

in the public eye which places it first in importance among the planets.

It is our nearest neighbor on the outer side of the earth's path around

the Sun and, viewed through a telescope of good magnifying power, shows

surface markings, suggestive of continents, mountains, valleys, oceans,

seas and rivers, and all the varying phenomena which the mind associates

with a world like unto our own. Indeed, it possesses so many features

in common with the earth, that it is impossible to resist the conception

of its being inhabitated. This, however, is not tantamount to saying

that if there is a race of beings on Mars they are the same as we on

Earth. By no means. Whatever atmosphere exists on Mars must be much

thinner than ours and far too rare to sustain the life of a people

with our limited lung capacity. A race with immense chests could live

under such conditions, and folk with gills like fish could pass a

comfortable existence in the rarefied air. Besides the tenuity of the

atmosphere, there are other conditions which would cause life to be

much different on Mars. Attraction and gravitation are altogether

different. The force with which a substance is attracted to the surface

of Mars is only a little more than one-third as strong as on the earth.

For instance one hundred pounds on Earth would weigh only about

thirty-eight pounds on Mars. A man who could jump five feet here could

clear fifteen feet on Mars. Paradoxical as it may seem, the smaller

a planet, in comparison with ours and consequently the less the pull

of gravity at its centre, the greater is the probability that its

inhabitants, if any, are giants when compared with us. Professor Lowell

has pointed out that to place the Martians (if there are such beings)

under the same conditions as those in which we exist, the average

inhabitant must be considered to be three times as large and three

times as heavy as the average human being; and the strength of the

Martians must exceed ours to even a greater extent than the bulk and

weight; for their muscles would be twenty-seven times more effective.

In fact, one Martian could do the work of fifty or sixty men.

It is idle, however, to speculate as to what the forms of life are

like on Mars, for if there are any such forms our ideas and conceptions

of them must be imaginary, as we cannot see them on Mars we do not

know. There is yet no possibility of seeing anything on the planet

less than thirty miles across, and even a city of that size, viewed

through the most powerful telescope, would only be visible as a minute

speck. Great as is the perfection to which our optical instruments

have been brought, they have revealed nothing on the planet save the

so-called canals, to indicate the presence of sentient rational beings.

The canals discovered by Schiaparelli of the Milan Observatory in 1877

are so regular, outlined with such remarkable geometrical precision,

that it is claimed they must be artificial and the work of a high order

of intelligence. "The evidence of such work," says Professor Lowell,

"points to a highly intelligent mind behind it."

Can this intelligence in any way reach us, or can we express ourselves

to it? Can the chasm of space which lies between the Earth and Mars

be bridged--a chasm which, at the shortest, is more than thirty-five

million miles across or one hundred and fifty times greater than the

distance between the earth and the moon? Can the inhabitants of the

Earth and Mars exchange signals? To answer the question, let us

institute some comparisons. Suppose the fabled "Man in the Moon" were

a real personage, we would require a telescope 800 times more powerful

than the finest instrument we now have to see him, for the space

penetrating power of the best telescope is not more than 300 miles and

the moon is 240,000 miles distant. An object to be visible on the moon

would require to be as large as the Metropolitan Insurance Building

in New York, which is over 700 feet high. To see, therefore, an object

on Mars by means of the telescope the object would need to have

dimensions one hundred and fifty times as great as the object on the

moon; in other words, before we could see a building on Mars, it would

have to be one hundred and fifty times the size of the Metropolitan

Building. Even if there are inhabitants there, it is not likely they

have such large buildings.

Assuming that there _are_ Martians, and that they are desirous

of communicating with the earth by waving a flag, such a flag in order

to be seen through the most powerful telescopes and when Mars is

nearest, would have to be 300 miles long and 200 miles wide and be

flung from a flagpole 500 miles high. The consideration of such a

signal only belongs to the domain of the imagination. As an

illustration, it should conclusively settle the question of the

possibility or rather impossibility of signalling between the two

planets.

Let us suppose that the signalling power of wireless telegraphy had

been advanced to such perfection that it was possible to transmit a

signal across a distance of 8,000 miles, equal to the diameter of the

earth, or 1-30 the distance to the moon. Now, in order to be appreciable

at the moon it would require the intensity of the 8,000 mile ether

waves to be raised not merely 30 times, but 30 times 30, for to use

the ordinary expression, the intensity of an effect spreading in all

directions like the ether waves, decreases inversely as the square of

the distance. If the whole earth were brought within the domain of

wireless telegraphy, the system would still have to be improved 900

times as much again before the moon could be brought within the sphere

of its influence. A wireless telegraphic signal, transmitted across

a distance equal to the diameter of the earth, would be reduced to a

mere sixteen-millionth part if it had to travel over the distance to

Mars; in other words, if wireless telegraphy attained the utmost

excellence now hoped for it--that is, of being able to girdle the

earth--it would have to be increased a thousandfold and then a

thousandfold again, and finally multiplied by 16, before an appreciable

_signal_ could be transmitted to Mars. This seems like drawing

the long bow, but it is a scientific truth. There is no doubt that

ether waves can and do traverse the distance between the Earth and

Mars, for the fact that sunlight reaches Mars and is reflected back

to us proves this; but the source of waves adequate to accomplish such

a feat must be on such a scale as to be hopelessly beyond the power

of man to initiate or control. Electrical signalling to Mars is much

more out of the question than wireless. Even though electrical phenomena

produced in any one place were sufficiently intense to be appreciable

by suitable instruments all over the earth, that intensity would have

to be enhanced another sixteen million-fold before they would be

appreciable on the planet Mars.

It is absolutely hopeless to try to span the bridge that lies between

us and Mars by any methods known to present day science. Yet men styling

themselves scientists say it can be done and will be done. This is a

prophecy, however, which must lie in the future.

As has been pointed out, we have as yet but scratched the outer surface

in the fields of knowledge. What visions may not be opened to the eyes

of men, as they go down deeper and deeper into the soil. Secrets will

be exhumed undreamt of now, mysteries will be laid bare to the light

of day, and perhaps the psychic riddle of life itself may be solved.

Then indeed, Mars may come to be looked on as a next-door neighbor,

with whose life and actions we are as well acquainted as with our own.

The thirty-five million miles that separate him from us may be regarded

as a mere step in space and the most distant planets of our system as

but a little journey afield. Distant Uranus may be looked upon as no

farther away than is, say, Australia from America at the present time.

It is vain, however, to indulge in these premises. The veil of mystery

still hangs between us and suns and stars and systems. One fact lies

before us of which there is no uncertainty--_we die_ and pass away from

our present state into some other. We are not annihilated into

nothingness. Suns and worlds also die, after performing their

allotted revolutions in the cycle of the universe. Suns glow for a

time, and planets bear their fruitage of plants and animals and men,

then turn for aeons into a dreary, icy listlessness and finally crumble

to dust, their atoms joining other worlds in the indestructibility of

matter.

After all, there really is no death, simply change--change from one

state to another. When we say we die, we simply mean that we change

our state. There is a life beyond the grave. As Longfellow beautifully

expresses it:

"Life is real, life is earnest,

And the grave is not its goal,

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul."

But whither do we go when we pass on? Where is the soul when it leaves

the earthly tenement called the body? We, Christians, in the light of

revelation and of faith, believe in a heaven for the good; but it is

not a material place, only a state of being. Where and under what

conditions is that state? This leads us to the consideration of another

question which is engrossing the minds of many thinkers and reasoners

of the present day. Can we communicate with the Spirit world? Despite

the tenets and beliefs and experiences of learned and sincere

investigators, we are constrained, thus far, to answer in the negative.

Yet, though we cannot communicate with it, we know there is a spirit

world; the inner consciousness of our being apprises us of that fact,

we know our loved ones who have passed on are not dead but gone before,

just a little space, and that soon we shall follow them into a higher

existence. As Talmage said, the tombstone is not the terminus, but the

starting post, the door to the higher life, the entrance to the state

of endless labor, grand possibilities, and eternal progression.

THE END

End of Project Gutenberg's Marvels of Modern Science, by Paul Severing

Marvels of Modern Science · 第 15 / 15 章