THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON.
An observer endued with an infinite range of vision, and placed in
that unknown centre around which the entire world revolves, might have
beheld myriads of atoms filling all space during the chaotic epoch of
the universe. Little by little, as ages went on, a change took place;
a general law of attraction manifested itself, to which the hitherto
errant atoms became obedient: these atoms combined together chemically
according to their affinities, formed themselves into molecules, and
composed those nebulous masses with which the depths of the heavens are
strewed.
These masses became immediately endued with a rotary motion around
their own central point. This centre, formed of indefinite molecules,
began to revolve round its own axis during its gradual condensation;
then, following the immutable laws of mechanics, in proportion as its
bulk diminished by condensation, its rotary motion became accelerated,
and these two effects continuing, the result was the formation of one
principal star, the centre of the nebulous mass.
By attentively watching, the observer would then have perceived the
other molecules of the mass, following the example of this central
star, become likewise condensed by gradually accelerated rotation, and
gravitating round it in the shape of innumerable stars. Thus was formed
the _Nebulæ,_ of which astronomers have reckoned up nearly 5000.
Amongst these 5000 nebulæ there is one which has received the name of
the Milky Way, and which contains eighteen millions of stars, each of
which has become the centre of a solar world.
If the observer had then specially directed his attention to one of the
more humble and less brilliant of these stellar bodies, a star of the
fourth class, that which is arrogantly called the Sun, all the phenomena
to which the formation of the Universe is to be ascribed would have
been successively fulfilled before his eyes. In fact, he would have
perceived this sun, as yet in the gaseous state, and composed of moving
molecules, revolving round its axis in order to accomplish its work of
concentration. This motion, faithful to the laws of mechanics, would
have been accelerated with the diminution of its volume; and a moment
would have arrived when the centrifugal force would have overpowered the
centripetal, which causes the molecules all to tend towards the centre.
Another phenomenon would now have passed before the observer's eye, and
the molecules situated on the plane of the equator escaping, like a stone
from a sling of which the cord had suddenly snapped, would have formed
around the sun sundry concentric rings resembling that of Saturn. In
their turn, again, these rings of cosmical matter, excited by a rotary
motion round the central mass, would have been broken up and decomposed
into secondary nebulosities, that is to say, into planets. Similarly he
would have observed these planets throw off one or more rings each, which
became the origin of the secondary bodies which we call satellites.
Thus, then, advancing from atom to molecule, from molecule to nebulous
mass, from that to a principal star, from star to sun, from sun to planet,
and hence to satellite, we have the whole series of transformations
undergone by the heavenly bodies during the first days of the world.
Now, of those attendant bodies which the sun maintains in their elliptical
orbits by the great law of gravitation, some few in their turn possess
satellites. Uranus has eight, Saturn eight, Jupiter four, Neptune possibly
three, and the Earth _one._ This last, one of the least important of the
entire solar system, we call _the Moon_; and it is she whom the daring
genius of the Americans professed their intention of conquering.
Illustration: THE MOON'S DISC.
The moon, by her comparative proximity, and the constantly varying
appearances produced by her several phases, has always occupied a
considerable share of the attention of the inhabitants of the earth.
From the time of Thales of Miletus, in the fifth century b.c., down to
that of Copernicus in the fifteenth and Tycho Brahé in the sixteenth
century a.d., observations have been from time to time carried on with
more or less correctness, until in the present day the altitudes of the
lunar mountains have been determined with exactitude. Galileo explained
the phenomena of the lunar light produced during certain of her phases
by the existence of mountains, to which he assigned a mean altitude of
27,000 feet. After him Hévelius, an astronomer of Dantzic, reduced the
highest elevations to 15,000 feet; but the calculations of Riccioli
brought them up again to 21,000 feet.
At the close of the eighteenth century Herschell, armed with a powerful
telescope, considerably reduced the preceding measurements. He assigned
a height of 11,400 feet to the maximum elevations, and reduced the mean
of the different altitudes to little more than 2400 feet. But Herschell's
calculations were in their turn corrected by the observations of Halley,
Nasmyth, Bianchini, Gruithuysen, and others; but it was reserved for
the labours of Bœer and Mædler finally to solve the question. They
succeeded in measuring 1905 different elevations, of which six exceed
15,000 feet, and twenty-two exceed 14,400 feet. The highest summit of all
towers to a height of 22,606 feet above the surface of the lunar disc. At
the same period the examination of the moon was completed. She appeared
completely riddled with craters, and her essentially volcanic character
was apparent at each observation. By the absence of refraction in the
rays of the planets occulted by her we conclude that she is absolutely
devoid of an atmosphere. The absence of air entails the absence of water.
It became, therefore, manifest that the Selenites, to support life under
such conditions, must possess a special organization of their own, must
differ remarkably from the inhabitants of the earth.
At length, thanks to modern art, instruments of still higher perfection
searched the moon without intermission, not leaving a single point of
her surface unexplored; and notwithstanding that her diameter measures
2150 miles, her surface equals the 1-15th part of that of our globe, and
her bulk the 1-49th part of that of the terrestrial spheroid—not one
of her secrets was able to escape the eyes of the astronomers; and these
skilful men of science carried to even greater degree their prodigious
observations.
Thus they remarked that, during full moon, the disc appeared scored in
certain parts with _white_ lines; and, during the phases, with _black._
On prosecuting the study of these with still greater precision, they
succeeded in obtaining an exact account of the nature of these lines.
They were long and narrow furrows sunk between parallel ridges, bordering
generally upon the edges of the craters. Their length varied between
ten and 100 miles, and their width was about 1600 yards. Astronomers
called them chasms, but they could not get any farther. Whether these
chasms were the dried-up beds of ancient rivers or not they were unable
thoroughly to ascertain.
The Americans, amongst others, hoped one day or other to determine this
geological question. They also undertook to examine the true nature
of that system of parallel ramparts discovered on the moon's surface
by Gruithuysen, a learned professor of Munich, who considered them to
be "a system of fortifications thrown up by the Selenitic engineers."
These two points, yet obscure, as well as others, no doubt, could not be
definitively settled except by direct communication with the moon.
Regarding the degree of intensity of its light, there was nothing more
to learn on this point. It was known that it is 300,000 times weaker
than that of the sun, and that its heat has no appreciable effect upon
the thermometer. As to the phenomenon known as the "ashy light," it is
explained naturally by the effect of the transmission of the solar rays
from the earth to the moon, which give the appearance of completeness to
the lunar disc, while it presents itself under the crescent form during
its first and last phases.
Such was the state of knowledge acquired regarding the earth's satellite,
which the Gun Club undertook to perfect in all its aspects, cosmographic,
geological, political, and moral.