Part 4

All the planets, said the Marchioness, are like us human beings, who always attribute to others what belongs to ourselves. The earth says; _it is not I who turn, it is the sun_. The moon says; _it is not I who vibrate, but the earth_: there is error throughout. I would not advise you to attempt making any reform, answered I; you had better consider the remaining proofs of the resemblance which the earth and moon bear to each other. Figure to yourself those two globes suspended in the heavens. You know the sun always enlightens one half of a circular body, whilst the other half remains in the shade. There is then one half of both the earth and the moon, which is enlightened by the sun, or in other words, in which it is day, and the other half in which it is night. Observe likewise that as a ball moves with less force and celerity after it has struck against a wall from which it flies off to an opposite place, so the light is weaker when reflected to us from a body that only receives it. The pale light of the moon is in reality the brilliancy of the sun, but as we receive it merely by reflection, in coming to us, it is deprived of its strength. Of course, it shines with much greater splendour on the moon, and for the same reason the dazzling light received by our globe, from the sun, must appear faint, when reflected back to the moon. That part of the moon which to us appears luminous during the night, is the side which has day-light; and the part of the earth which is illuminated by the day, when turned toward the dark side of the moon, affords equal light to her. All this depends on the mutual position of the earth and moon. During the first days of the month, when the moon is not discernible, she is placed between the sun and us, and proceeding in the day time with the sun: the luminous side is therefore necessarily turned to the sun, whilst the dark part is towards the earth. We are unable to see the unenlightened side of the moon, but this dark half viewing the part of our globe in which it is day, is assisted by our light, and though invisible to us, has the advantage of seeing the earth as a full moon: it is then to the lunar inhabitants _full-earth_, if I may so express myself.[22] After this, the moon advancing in her monthly round, and no longer between the sun and earth, turns towards us a small part of her enlightened half, and that we call the crescent. At the same time that part of the moon which is involved in the obscurity of night, ceases so see all the luminous side of the earth, and finds it continue to decrease.

[Footnote 22: We have a convincing proof of the light reflected from the earth at this time, in the dusky light perceived on a part of the moon that is not enlightened by the sun. Astron. Art. 1412.]

Enough--said the Marchioness, in her lively manner; I shall easily learn the rest when I like: let me stop a moment, and trace the moon through her monthly circle. I see that in general that planet and the earth have very different degrees of light, and I imagine that when we have the full-moon all the luminous side of the moon is turned toward all the part of our globe which is obscure; and that, at that time, the inhabitants cannot discern us at all, but say they have _new-earth_. I should not chuse to be obnoxious to reproach for obliging you to enter into a long explanation of any thing so easily understood, but the eclipses--how are they effected? You could guess it without difficulty, I replied. When we have a new moon, and she, being between us and the sun, presents her dark side to our luminous half, the shadow of this obscure part falls on the earth; so that wherever the moon is in a direct line under the sun, she hides that luminary from our sight, and darkens a part of the enlightened side of our globe; this, then, forms an eclipse of the sun to us during the day-time, and an eclipse of the earth to the moon during her night. When the moon is at the full, the earth is between her and the sun, the shaded side of the earth towards the light side of the moon. If the earth's shadow fall directly on the moon, it darkens the luminous half that we see; 'tis then we have an eclipse of the moon in our night, and the moon, an eclipse of the sun in her day. What prevents an eclipse every time the moon is between the sun and us, or the earth between the sun and moon, is this; it often happens that these three bodies are not placed exactly in a line, in which case the one that would occasion the eclipse throws its shadow on one side of the other and consequently does not obstruct its light.

I am very much astonished, said the Marchioness, that there is so little mystery in eclipses, and that being produced by such simple means, every body does not discover the cause of them. In truth, answered I, there are many people, who from the emotions they feel at one of these phenomena, appear to have little chance of finding out the occasion of them at present. Throughout the East-Indies, when the sun and moon are eclipsed, the inhabitants believe that a great dragon with his black claws is going to seize these luminaries; and all the time the eclipse lasts, you may see whole rivers covered with the heads of these Indians, who have put themselves up to the throat in water, because, according to their notions, this is a very religious act, and will induce the sun or moon to defend itself bravely against the dragon. In America, it was thought that the sun and moon were angry when they were eclipsed, and every kind of absurdity was practised to regain their favour. The Grecians too, who had arrived at such a height of refinement--did they not, for a long time, believe that the moon was eclipsed by the power of sorcery, and that the magicians caused her to descend from the skies and cast a baneful influence on the herbs? And were not we likewise in great alarm, but two-and-thirty years ago,[23] at a total eclipse of the sun? Did not an immense number of people shut themselves up in caves and cellars; and were they easily persuaded to leave them by the philosophers who wrote so much to re-assure them?

[Footnote 23: 1654. There have been others in Europe in 1724, 1715, and 1716.]

Really, replied she, all that is too ridiculous. There ought to be a decree passed to prevent any body from ever talking of eclipses, lest the memory of these follies should be perpetuated. The decree, said I, should extend so far as to obliterate the memory of every subject, for I can think of nothing in the world which is not the monument of some human folly.

Answer me this question, said the Marchioness:--Are the inhabitants of the moon as much afraid of eclipses as those of the earth? How ridiculous it is if the Indians of that world put themselves up to the chin in water; if the Americans believe the earth is angry with them; if the Greeks imagine we are enchanted, and suppose we shall injure their herbs; and in short, if we are inflicting on them all the terror they have caused us? I have no doubt but that is the case, answered I; for why should the good folks in the moon have more sense than we? What right have they to frighten us, unless we can frighten them? I dare say, added I, laughing; that, as a prodigious number of men have been, and still are, silly enough to worship the moon; so there are some in the moon that pay their adorations to the earth, and that they are kneeling to one another. If it be so, she replied, we may pretend to have an influence on the moon, and to produce the crisis in the diseases of her sick people, but as a little common sense in the dwellers on that globe would be sufficient to destroy all these honours, I must confess I am afraid they will have the advantage over us.

Don't alarm yourself, said I; 'tis not probable that we are the only fools in the universe. There is something in ignorance that is calculated for general reception, and though I can only guess the character of the people in question, yet I have no more doubt, that could we form the comparison, we should find ourselves equal to them, than I have that the accounts are true that we receive of their globe.

What accounts do you receive enquired she. Those, I replied, that are given us by the learned who travel there every day by the assistance of telescopes. They tell us that they have discovered in the moon earth, seas, lakes, elevated mountains, and profound abysses.

You astonish me, cried the Marchioness: I cannot imagine the possibility of discovering mountains and abysses, from the great irregularity they cause on the surface of the globe; but how do they distinguish earth from sea? Because, answered I, the water,[24] by suffering part of the light to pass through it, and consequently reflecting less than the earth, has, at a distance, the appearance of dark spots; whilst the solid parts, by reflecting all the light, look much more brilliant. The illustrious M. Cassini, who has acquired a greater knowledge of the celestial bodies than any man in the world, discovered in the moon something which separates, then re-unites, and afterwards loses itself in a cavity. We have reason to believe, from its appearance that this is a river. In short all these different parts are now so well known to us, that they have been named after our great men. One place is called Copernicus, another Archimedes, another Gabileus. Other parts have fancy names; there is a promontory of decams, a sea of nectar, and so on; in fact our description of the moon is so particular, that if a learned man was to take a journey there, he would be in no more danger of losing himself than I should in Paris.

[Footnote 24: It is proved that there is no water in the moon, but there are volcanoes; they may even be seen without a telescope, which was the case on the 7th of March, 1794. _Philos. Trans._]

But, said she, I should like to have a more detailed account of the interior of the country. The gentlemen of the observatory are not able to give it you, I replied; you must make enquiry of Astolfo, who was taken to the moon by St. John. That is one of the pleasantest follies of Ariosto, I'm sure you will be amused with it. I confess it would have been better if he had not introduced in it so respectable a name as that of St. John; poets, however, will take licenses, and we may venture to excuse this, for the whole poem is dedicated to a cardinal, and one of our popes has honoured it with a particular eulogium, which in some editions is placed before the work. This is the subject of the piece: Orlando, nephew to Charlemagne, had lost his senses, because the beautiful Angelica preferred Medore to him. Astolfo, a valourous knight-errant was one day carried by his hippogriffe to the terrestial paradise, which was at the top of a very high mountain: there he met with St. John, who informed him that it was necessary, in order to cure Orlando of his madness, for them to take a journey together to the moon. Astolfo, delighted with the opportunity of seeing a new country, needed no entreaty, and in a moment the apostle and knight took their course in a chariot of fire. As Astolfo was no philosopher, he was surprised to find the moon much larger than it appeared while he was on the earth; his astonishment however increased when he saw in it rivers, lakes, mountains, towns, forests, and, what I should have been equally surprised at, nymphs hunting in the forests. But the most curious thing of all he saw was a valley in which was to be found every thing that was lost on the earth: crowns, riches, the rewards of ambition, hopes without number, all the time that had been devoted to gaming, all the alms men had ordered to be distributed after their death, verses dedicated to monarchs, and the sighs of lovers.

As to lovers' sighs, rejoined the Marchioness; I don't know what became of them in Ariosto's time, but at present I fancy there are none that go to the moon. We should find a great many, said I, were they only those that you have occasioned. In short, the moon is so careful in collecting all that is lost here that not a single thing is wanting of the number: Ariosto has even whispered that Constantine's donation is there: the popes have assumed the government of Rome and Italy by virtue of a donation from that emperor, but the truth is we can't tell what is become of it. There is but one sort of thing that has not escaped to the moon, and that is--folly: the people on earth have taken care not to part with that; but to make the moon amends, an incredible quantity of wit has taken its flight thither, which is there preserved in phials; it is a very subtile fluid, and easily evaporates unless carefully corked up: on each of these phials is written the name of the owner. I think Ariosto puts them together without any order, but I like better to imagine them placed neatly in long rows. Astolfo was astonished to find full phials belonging to many wise people of his acquaintance. I am sure, continued I, mine has been considerably augmented since I began to indulge myself with you in philosophic and poetic reveries: but I console myself by supposing that after listening to all my fancies _your_ wits must inevitably become so volatile that at least a little phial full will evaporate, and make its way to the moon.

Our knight-errant found his own among the rest, and by St. John's permission took possession of it and snuffed up all the bottleful like Hungary water: but according to Ariosto he did not carry it away with him; for, it soon returned to the moon, in consequence of an extravagance he was guilty of some time after. He did not forget Orlando's phial which had occasioned his journey; he had a good deal of trouble in carrying it, for the hero's wit was naturally weighty, and not a drop was wanting. At the end, Ariosto, according to his general custom of saying whatever he pleases, addresses, in beautiful language the following apostrophe to his mistress: "Who, my fair one, will ascend to the heavens, to restore the senses of which your charms has robbed me? Hitherto I have not complained, but I know not what may be the extent of my loss; should I continue the victim of your beauty, I shall in the end become what I have represented Orlando to be. However, I do not believe it is necessary for me to traverse the airy regions for the recovery of my senses; all the faculties of my soul, instead of mounting to such unattainable height, are solacing themselves in the beam of your eyes, and hovering round your lovely mouth. Ah! have compassion on me, and suffer me to take them back with my lips." Is not the thought pretty? For my part, in adopting Ariosto's way of thinking, I should dissuade people from ever letting their wits escape, unless it were from the influence of love; for you see how near they then continue, and how easily they may be regained; but when they are lost in any other way, as we, for instance, are losing ours, in philosophising, they fly directly to the moon, and are not caught again at pleasure. Never mind, said the Marchioness; ours will have an honourable station among the philosophic phials; whereas, had we lost them in the poet's way, they might perhaps hover around some unworthy object. But, continued she, to deprive me completely of mine, tell me seriously whether you believe there are men living in the moon, for you have not yet given me a decided opinion. Do I believe it? replied I; oh no, I don't believe there are men in the moon. We see how much all nature is changed even when we have travelled from here to China; different faces; different figures; different manners; and almost a different sort of understandings: from here to the moon the alteration must be considerably greater. When adventurers explore unknown countries, the inhabitants they find are scarcely human; they are animals in the shape of men, even in that respect sometimes imperfect; but almost devoid of human reason; could any of these travellers reach the moon, they surely would not find it inhabited by men.

Then what sort of creatures are they? asked the Marchioness impatiently. Upon my word, madam, said I, I can't tell. Were it possible for us to be endowed with reason, and at the same time not of the human species; were we, I say, such beings, and inhabitants of the moon, should we ever imagine that this world contained so fantastical a creature as man? Could we form in our minds the image of a being composed of such extravagant passions, and such wise reflections; an existence so short, and plans so extensive; so much knowledge of trifles, and so much ignorance of the most important things; such ardent love of liberty, yet such proneness to slavery; so strong a desire for happiness, with so little power of being happy? The people in the moon, must be very clever to imagine such a motley character. We are incessantly contemplating our own nature, yet we are still unacquainted with it. Some have found it so difficult to comprehend, that they have said the gods had taken too much nectar when they created men; and when they had recovered their calm reason, they could not help laughing at their own work. Well, we are not in danger of being laughed at by the inhabitants of the moon, answered the Marchioness, as they would find it so impossible to imagine our characters; but I should be very glad if we could find out theirs, for really, one feels a painful degree of curiosity in knowing that there are beings in the moon we see yonder, and not having the means of discovering what they are. How is it, I replied, that you have no anxiety to be acquainted with all the southern part of the world which is yet unknown to us? We and the inhabitants of that part of the globe are voyaging in the same vessel, of which they occupy the head and we the stern. You see that the head and the stern have no communication with each other; that the people at one end know nothing of the nature or occupations of those at the other, and yet you want to be acquainted with all that is going forward in the moon, that separate vessel which is sailing in a distant part of the heavens.