Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds
Part 5
Oh! replied she, I consider myself already acquainted with the inhabitants of the southern world, for they certainly must be very much like us; and in short, we may know them better whenever we chuse to give ourselves the trouble of going to see them; we cannot miss them, for they will remain in the same place; but these folks in the moon----I am in despair about them. Were I, I replied, gravely to answer you, _we know not what may happen_, you would laugh at me, and I should undoubtedly deserve it; nevertheless I think I could defend myself in some measure from your ridicule. A thought has come into my head, which is whimsical enough, and yet there is a wonderful deal of probability in it; I don't know how it has acquired the power of imposing that on my understanding, being in itself so extravagant. I dare say I shall likewise bring you to confess, contrary to reason, that there may some day be a communication opened between the earth and the moon. Recollect the situation of America before it was discovered by Christopher Columbus. The minds of its inhabitants were involved in the most profound ignorance; far from having any knowledge of the sciences, they were not even acquainted with the most simple and necessary arts: they went without clothes; they had no weapon but the bow; they had no notion that men might be carried by animals; they supposed the ocean an immense space, impassable by man, and bounded only by the sky to which it was joined. It is true that after they had been several years in contriving to scoop out the trunk of a great tree, they ventured to commit themselves to the water in this rude sort of vessel, and went from one country to another, borne along by the winds and waves: but as their bark was very liable to be overset, they were frequently under the necessity of swimming to overtake it, so that properly speaking they were oftener in the water than in their ship. You must suppose they would not have yielded a very implicit credence to a person who had told them that a navigation was carried on, incomparably superior to theirs; that by its means, every part of the liquid expanse could be resorted to; that the vessels might be detained at one spot whilst the billows were foaming around; that even the speed with which they moved might be regulated; in short, that the ocean, whatever its extent might be, was no obstacle to the commerce of different people. In a course of time, however, notwithstanding their incredulity, a spectacle new and astonishing presents itself to the eyes of these savages. Enormous bodies, extending their white wings to the blast, come sailing on the ocean with fearful rapidity, and discharging fire on every side: these tremendous machines cast on their shore men covered with iron; guiding with facility the monsters that carry them, and darting thunderbolts from their hands to destroy all who attempt to resist them.--"Whence come these awful beings? Who hath given them power to ride on the waters, and to wield the thunder of heaven? Are they children of the sun? assuredly they are not men!" I cannot tell, madam, whether you feel as strongly as I do, the surprise of the Americans; surely no event could ever have excited an astonishment equal to theirs. After thinking of that, I will not assert that no communication can be established between our world and the moon. Did the Americans ever conceive the idea that there would be any between their country and Europe, of which they had never heard? There is, I acknowledge, an immense space of air to travel through before we could reach the moon; but did those great seas appear to the Americans more capable of being crossed? Really, exclaimed the Marchioness, looking earnestly at me, you are quite mad! Who denies it? answered I. It is impossible you _should_ deny it said she. The Americans were so ignorant that they could not imagine the practicability of crossing such an extent of water; but we have science enough to know that the air is passable, although we have no machine which can transport us through it. We do more than conjecture the possibility of rising in the air, I replied; we have actually began to fly. Several persons have discovered a method of fixing on wings which supported them in the air, of moving these wings, and by their assistance, flying over rivers; these new-fashioned birds, did not, to be sure, soar like the eagles, and their flight has sometimes cost them an arm or a leg; but, however, these attempts answer to the first pieces of wood that were launched into the water, and which served for the commencement of navigation: there was a vast difference between these mere planks and great ships, capable of going round the world; nevertheless, by gradual improvements we have learned to construct such vessels. The art of flying is but in its infancy; in due time it will be brought to perfection,[25] and some day or other we shall get to the moon. Can we pretend to know every thing; to have made every possible discovery? Pray let us give posterity leave to make some improvements as well as ourselves. I won't give them leave, answered she, to break their necks by attempting to fly. Well, I replied, though flying be not perfected here, the inhabitants of the moon, may perhaps excel us; and it will be the same thing whether we go to them, or they come to us. We shall then be like the Americans who knew so little of navigation whilst it was thoroughly understood at the other side of the globe. Pugh! cried the Marchioness; if the people in the moon were so expert, they would have been here before this time. The Europeans, answered I, did not find their way to America till six thousand years had elapsed; they were all that time in learning the art of navigation so completely as to pass over the ocean. Probably the people in the moon are able to take little excursions into the air, very likely they are now practising; after they have acquired more experience they will pay us a visit, and heaven knows what surprise it will occasion us! You are insupportable, exclaimed she, to combat me with such chimerical arguments. Take care, said I; if you provoke me I shall easily corroborate them. Remember the earth has been made known to us by little and little. The ancients positively asserted that the torrid and frozen zones were uninhabitable from the excessive heat of the one, and cold of the others; and in the time of the Romans the general chart of the world was made little larger than that of their own empire, this at once shewed the grand idea they had of themselves, and their extreme ignorance of the earth. Men were however discovered, in these extremely hot, and intensely cold, climates, which discovery has greatly augmented the number of inhabitants on our globe. At one time it was believed that the ocean covered every part of the earth except what was then known. Antipodes had never been heard of, and who could imagine that men would be able to walk with their heads downwards? Yet after all, the antipodes were found out. Now the map must be altered; a new half added to the earth!--You understand, madam, what I am aiming at; these antipodes, so unexpectedly discovered, should teach us to think modestly of our attainments: we may yet know much more of our own world, and then become acquainted with the moon; till that time we must not expect it, because our knowledge is progressive: when we understand our own habitation, we may be permitted to study that of our neighbours. In truth, said she, viewing me attentively, you enter into the subject so deeply that one cannot but imagine you in earnest. Indeed I am not, answered I; I only wished to shew you the possibility of maintaining an extravagant opinion, so as to embarrass, though not convince, a person of sense. Truth alone makes her way to the understanding; she can even convince without exhibiting every proof: she is so adapted to our capacities, that when first discovered, we seem only to have met with an old acquaintance.
[Footnote 25: Montgolfier's balloons, invented in 1783, have gone a great way towards the fulfilling of this prediction, but it is evidently impossible for it to be accomplished; these globes can only carry us to a certain height, beyond that we could not breathe.]
Ah! this restores my tranquillity, said she. Your sophistry disturbed my imagination. Let us retire; I am now composed and inclined to go to rest.
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_THIRD EVENING._
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The Marchioness wished to pursue our astronomical researches during the day; but I told her that as the moon and stars were the subjects of our whimsical conversations, they ought to be our only confidants; we therefore waited till evening, and then took our usual ramble in the park, which thus became sacred to learning.
I have a vast deal of news to tell you, said I; I yesterday told you that the moon, according to all appearances, was inhabited; but I have recollected a circumstance which would expose its inhabitants to so much danger, that I don't know whether I shall not retract my former opinion. Indeed I will not suffer you to retract it, answered she. Yesterday you prepared me to receive a visit from the inhabitants of the moon, in a few days; now you are going to refuse them a place in the creation. You shall not trifle with me in this way. You told me the moon was inhabited; I surmounted the difficulty of believing it, and now I will continue to believe it. Softly! said I; we should give but half an assent to an opinion of this nature, and reserve the other half in case we should find the opposite idea better supported. I am not contented with words, she replied; give me facts: remember your comparison of the moon with St. Dennis. But, answered I, the moon is not so similar to the earth as St. Dennis is to Paris. The sun draws out of the earth and water exhalations, which rise to a certain height in the air, collect together, and form themselves into clouds. These clouds hover about the earth in irregular shapes, sometimes shadowing one part, and sometimes another. In viewing the earth from a distance, the appearance of its surface would continually vary, because a large space of country darkened by a cloud would appear less luminous than the other parts, and as the cloud dispersed, would resume its brightness: from this cause the spots on the earth would be seen to change their places, assume different forms, and sometimes be entirely dissipated. If, then, the moon had clouds in its atmosphere, we should observe this variety of spots; but we find them always confined to the same place, which proves that the sun raises no vapours from the moon. It is then a body incomparably more solid than the earth, and its more subtile particles easily dissipated as soon as they are put in motion by the heat. The moon, therefore must be a mass of rock and marble from which no evaporation proceeds; for exhalations so naturally arise where there is water, that we cannot admit the existence of water where they are not found. What sort of beings do you think could inhabit these barren rocks; this country without water? Ah! cried she, you forget that you have assured me the seas in the moon were distinguishable. It was a mere conjecture,[26] I replied; I am sorry to have led you astray. These dark places that have been taken for seas are probably only deep cavities: at so great a distance it is excusable if we don't always guess aright. But, said she, will your objections oblige us to conclude that the moon has no inhabitants? By no means, answered I, we will neither decide one way or the other. I must own my weakness, she replied; I cannot bear to remain in suspense. I must believe something: enable me to determine; let us ascertain the existence of these people, or let us annihilate them at once, and think no more about them. But preserve them if possible; I have formed an attachment for them, of which I shall not easily divest myself. I will not leave the moon without inhabitants then, said I; for your pleasure it shall be repeopled.
[Footnote 26: This is not, now, even conjectured, for with a telescope we may see irregularities at the bottom of what were supposed to be seas.]
As the spots in the moon never vary,[27] we certainly, cannot believe that there are any surrounding clouds which successively obscure the surrounding parts; this however is not a proof that there are no exhalations; our clouds are formed of vapours, which at their first rising out of the earth, were in separate particles, too small to be visible to us; in ascending they meet with a degree of cold that condenses, and unites them into conspicuous forms; after which they float in the air till they dissolve in rain. But these exhalations frequently remain dispersed and imperceptible, and fall back on the ground in gentle dews. I suppose then that vapours of this kind are exhaled from the moon, for it is incredible that the moon should be a large mass, composed of parts all equally solid, all in a state of equal tranquillity, all incapable of being influenced by the action of the sun. We know of no body which has these properties, not even marble. The most dense bodies are subject to change, either from some secret and interior motion, or from the action of external matter. As the exhalations from the moon, do not form themselves into clouds, and return in showers, they can only become dew; for that purpose it is not necessary that the atmosphere, which apparently adheres to the moon as ours does to the earth, should be exactly similar to our air, nor the vapours exactly like ours; and that I think is probably the case:[28] the matter must have a different disposition in the moon, from that in the earth; consequently the effects be different; however all that is of no importance; since we find that there is motion in the parts of the moon, either internal, or produced by foreign causes, we may again people it, as we have the means of affording them subsistence; of producing fruit, corn, water, and every thing that is needful. I mean fruit, corn, &c. such as the moon can produce, the nature of which I am unacquainted with; and all these in proportion to the wants of its inhabitants, of which I am likewise ignorant.
[Footnote 27: M. Herschel has observed variations in them; which he, with certainty, attributes to the industry of the inhabitants.]
[Footnote 28: The atmosphere of the moon, if there be any, is quite invisible to us.]
That is to say, answered the Marchioness, you are sure every thing is right, without knowing how it is; here is a little knowledge placed against a great deal of ignorance, but we must be content with it: I am very happy to have inhabitants restored to the moon; I am glad also that you give them a surrounding atmosphere, for it seems to me that a planet would be too naked without one.
These two different airs, said I, one belonging to the earth, the other to the moon, tend to prevent the communication between the two planets. If it merely depended on the power of flying, who knows, as I yesterday said, but we may at some future time be sufficiently expert? All things considered, I think we must not expect this communication; the amazing distance at which they are placed, would be a considerable difficulty; and were this obstacle removed; were the two planets nearer together, it would be impossible to pass from one atmosphere to the other. Water is the atmosphere of fishes; they never pass into that of birds, nor the birds into theirs: they are not prevented by the distance, but the existence of both depends on their proper element. Our air, we find, is mixed with more dense and gross vapours than that of the moon; therefore an inhabitant of that world would be drowned if he entered our atmosphere, and fall lifeless on the earth.
Oh! how glad I should be, exclaimed the Marchioness, for a shipwreck to cast a good number of them on the earth, we might then examine them at our leisure. But, I replied, if they were clever enough to navigate the surface of our atmosphere, and from a curiosity to examine us, should be tempted to draw us up like fishes; would that please you? Why not? answered she, laughing. I would voluntarily put myself in their nets, just for the pleasure of seeing the fishers.
Remember, said I, you would be very ill by the time you reached the top of our air; we are not capable of breathing it above a certain height;[29] it is said that at the summit of some mountains we can scarcely do it. I wonder that people who are silly enough to believe that corporeal genii inhabit the purest regions of the air, should not tell us, as the reason for our receiving such short and unfrequent visits from these genii, that few of them understand diving, and even those who excel in it cannot remain long in our gross air.
[Footnote 29: Respiration is difficult at the height of a league. Half a league higher it must be impossible.]
We see then there are many things to prevent us from leaving our own world and going to the moon. To console ourselves let us guess all we can about it. In the first place I conjecture that the inhabitants must see the heavens, the sun and the stars of a very different colour from what they appear to us. We view those objects through a sort of glass which alters their appearance; this glass is our atmosphere, pervaded with exhalations. Some moderns assert that it is blue as well as the sea, but we can only distinguish the colour in the parts of those elements that are most remote from the eye. The firmament, say they, in which are the fixed stars, has no light in itself, and consequently ought to appear black,[30] but as we see it through our blue air, it seems to us to be blue. If that is true, the rays of the sun and stars cannot pass through the air without receiving a slight tinge from its colour, and losing a degree of that which is natural to them. But supposing the air is not coloured, it is certain that through a thick fog the light of a flambeau, seen at some distance, appears of a deep red, which is not its real colour; if therefore our air be considered only a mist, it must necessarily alter the colour of the sky, sun, and stars. The celestial fluid alone could give us light and colours in their original state. Therefore as the atmosphere of the moon differs from ours, it is either of a different colour, or else it is another sort of mist, which varies the appearance of the celestial bodies. In a word, the glass through which the people in the moon view these objects is of a different nature to ours.
[Footnote 30: Desaussure tells us it appears black when viewed at a league's distance from the earth.]
On that account, replied the Marchioness, I prefer our world to the moon; I think it impossible for the assortment of colours presented to their sight by the heavenly bodies to be so beautiful as that they form when viewed through the medium of our air. Let us suppose a red sky and green stars; the effect is not so agreeable as golden stars and a blue sky. One would think, said I, you were chusing clothes or furniture; but believe me, nature has a good taste; let us trust to her for providing a set of colours for the moon, there is no fear but it will be a pleasing one. She has undoubtedly varied the appearance of the universe at each different point of view, and in all these varieties there is great beauty.
I acknowledge her talents, answered she; at each point of view she has placed a different sort of glass, by which mean she has given the appearance of variety to objects which remain always the same. With a blue atmosphere, we have a blue sky, and perhaps with a red atmosphere, the inhabitants of the moon have a red sky; yet this sky is absolutely the same. In like manner she seems to have placed various sorts of glasses before the eyes of our imagination, through which the same object presents to each of us a different appearance. To Alexander, the earth appeared a proper place to convert into an empire, for his sway; Celadon, viewed it only as a fit residence for Astrea; a philosopher considers it a large planet, travelling through the heavens, and inhabited by a number of madmen. I think the spectacle of nature cannot be more varied than the prospects of different imaginations.
The varied appearance of objects viewed by the imagination, I replied, is the most surprising, for they are exactly the same things though apparently so dissimilar: whereas there may be other natural objects visible to the moon, and some that are visible to us may not be seen there; perhaps, for instance, there is neither dawn nor twilight. The air that surrounds us, rises to some height, receives the rays of light that would not reach the earth, and by its density, detains, and conveys to us a part of this light which was apparently not destined for us: thus you see the dawn and twilight are particular favours conferred on us by nature; they are degrees of light to which we are not regularly entitled, and which are bestowed on us in addition to our share. But the atmosphere of the moon, being purer than ours, is probably not so well calculated to reflect the rays which it receives before the sun is risen, or after it is set. The poor inhabitants have not then this light, which by its gradual increase prepares us so agreeably for the brilliancy of the sun; and in the evening reconciles us to its loss, by a progressive diminution. The moon, after the profound gloom of night, receives the ardent blaze of the sun, as if by the instantaneous drawing up of a curtain: on the contrary, whilst still enjoying the dazzling light of day, it is again plunged into extreme darkness: day and night are not connected by an agreeable medium, partaking of both. The people in the moon never see the rainbow; for as the dawn is produced by the thickness of our air and vapours, so the rainbow is formed in the clouds which are dispersed in rain; thus we are indebted for the most beautiful appearances in nature, to things, in themselves, far from agreeable. Since the moon has neither dense vapours nor rainy clouds, farewell to Aurora, and the Rainbow! Alas! to what can they liken the beauties of that country; what a source of comparison are they deprived of!