"Whilst passing across the canvass, and whenever we afterwards saw them, these creatures were evidently engaged in conversation; their gesticulation, more particularly the varied action of their hands and arms, appeared impassioned and emphatic. We hence inferred that they were rational beings, and although not perhaps of so high an order as others which we discovered the next month on the shores of the Bay of Rainbows, that they were capable of producing works of art and contrivance. The next view we obtained of them was still more favorable. It was on the borders of a little lake, or expanded stream, which we then for the first time perceived running down the valley to a large lake, and having on its eastern margin a small wood.
"Some of these creatures had crossed this water and werelying like spread eagles on the skirts of the wood. We could then perceive that they possessed wings of great expansion, and were similar in structure to those of the bat, being a semi-transparent membrane expanded in curvilineal divisions by means of straight radii, united at the back by the dorsal integuments. But what astonished us very much was the circumstance of this membrane being continued, from the shoulders to the legs, united all the way down, though gradually decreasing in width. The wings seemed completely under the command of volition, for those of the creatures whom we saw bathing in the water, spread them instantly to their full width, waved them as ducks do theirs to shake off the water, and then as instantly closed them again in a compact form. Our further observation of the habits of these creatures, who were of both sexes, led to results so very remarkable, that I prefer they should first be laid before the public in Dr. Herschel's own work, where I have reason to know they are fully and faithfully stated, however incredulously they may be received.— * * * * * The three families then almost simultaneously spread their wings, and were lost in the dark confines of the canvass before we had time to breathe from our paralyzing astonishment. We scientifically denominated them the Vespertilio-homo, or man-bat; and they are doubtless innocent and happy creatures, notwithstanding that some of their amusements would but ill comport with our terrestrial notions of decorum. The valley itself we called the Ruby Colosseum, in compliment to its stupendous southern boundary, the six mile sweep of precipices two thousand feet high. And the night, or rather morning, being far advanced, we postponed our tour to Petavius (No. 20), until another opportunity." We have, of course, faithfully obeyed Dr. Grant's private injunction to omit those highly curious passages in his correspondence which he wished us to suppress, although we do not perceive the force of the reason assigned for it. It is true, the omitted paragraphs contain facts which would be wholly incredible to readers who do not carefully examine the principles and capacity of the instrument with which these marvellous discoveries have been made; but so will nearly all of those which he has kindly permitted us to publish; and it was for thisreason that we considered the explicit description which we have given of the telescope so important a preliminary. From these, however, and other prohibited passages, which will be published by Dr. Herschel, with the certificates of the civil and military authorities of the colony, and of several Episcopal, Wesleyan, and other ministers, who, in the month of March last, were permitted, under stipulation of temporary secrecy, to visit the observatory, and become eye-witnesses of the wonders which they were requested to attest, we are confident his forthcoming volumes will be at once the most sublime in science, and the most intense in general interest, that ever issued from the press.
The night of the 14th displayed the moon in her mean libration, or full; but the somewhat humid state of the atmosphere being for several hours less favorable to a minute inspection than to a general survey of her surface, they were chiefly devoted to the latter purpose. But shortly after midnight the last veil of mist was dissipated, and the sky being as lucid as on the former evenings, the attention of the astronomers was arrested by the remarkable outlines of the spot marked Tycho, No. 18, in Blunt's lunar chart; and in this region they added treasures to human knowledge which angels might well desire to win. Many parts of the following extract will remain forever in the chronicles of time:—
"The surface of the moon, when viewed in her mean libration, even with telescopes of very limited power, exhibits three oceans of vast breadth and circumference, independently of seven large collections of water, which may be denominated seas. Of inferior waters, discoverable by the higher classes of instruments, and usually called lakes, the number is so great that no attempt has yet been made to count them. Indeed, such a task would be almost equal to that of enumerating the annular mountains which are found upon every part of her surface, whether composed of land or water. The largest of the three oceans occupies a considerable portion of the hemisphere between the line of her northern axis and that of her eastern equator, and even extends many degrees south of the latter. Throughout its eastern boundary, it so closely approaches thatof the lunar sphere, as to leave in many places merely a fringe of illuminated mountains, which are here, therefore, strongly contra-distinguished from the dark and shadowy aspect of the great deep. But peninsulas, promontories, capes, and islands, and a thousand other terrestrial figures, for which we can find no names in the poverty ofourgeographical nomenclature, are found expanding, sallying forth, or glowing in insular independence, through all the 'billowy boundlessness' of this magnificent ocean. One of the most remarkable of these is a promontory, without a name, I believe, in the lunar charts, which starts from an island district denominated Copernicus by the old astronomers, and abounding, as we eventually discovered, with great natural curiosities. This promontory is indeed most singular. Its northern extremity is shaped much like an imperial crown, having a swelling bow, divided and tied down in its centre by a band of hills which is united with its forehead band or base. The two open spaces formed by this division are two lakes, each eighty miles wide; and at the foot of these, divided from them by the band of hills last mentioned, is another lake, larger than the two put together, and nearly perfectly square. This one is followed, after another hilly division, by a lake of an irregular form; and this one yet again, by two narrow ones, divided longitudinally, which are attenuated northward to the main land. Thus this skeleton promontory of mountain ridges runs 396 miles into the ocean, with six capacious lakes, enclosed within its stony ribs. Blunt's excellent lunar chart gives this great work of nature with wonderful fidelity, and I think you might accompany my description with an engraving from it, much to your reader's satisfaction. (See plate 4.)
"Next to this, the most remarkable formation in this ocean is a strikingly brilliant annular mountain of immense altitude and circumference, standing 330 miles E.S.E., commonly known as Aristarchus (No. 12), and marked in the chart as a large mountain, with a great cavity in its centre. That cavity is now, as it was probably wont to be in ancient ages, a volcanic crater, awfully rivalling our Mounts Etna and Vesuvius in the most terrible epochs of their reign. Unfavorable as the state of the atmosphere was to close examination, we couldeasily mark its illumination of the water over a circuit of sixty miles. If we had before retained any doubt of the power of lunar volcanoes to throw fragments of their craters so far beyond the moon's attraction that they would necessarily gravitate to this earth, and thus account for the multitude of massive aerolites which have fallen and been found upon our surface, the view which we had of Aristarchus would have set our scepticism forever at rest. This mountain, however, though standing 300 miles in the ocean, is not absolutely insular, for it is connected with the main land by four chains of mountains, which branch from it as a common centre.
"The next great ocean is situated on the western side of the meridian line, divided nearly in the midst by the line of the equator, and is about 900 miles in north and south extent. It is marked C in the catalogue, and was fancifully called the Mare Tranquillitatis. It is rather two large seas than one ocean, for it is narrowed just under the equator by a strait not more than 100 miles wide. Only three annular islands of a large size, and quite detached from its shores, are to be found within it; though several sublime volcanoes exist on its northern boundary; one of the most stupendous of which is within 120 miles of the Mare Nectaris before mentioned. Immediately contiguous to this second great ocean, and separated from it only by a concatenation of dislocated continents and islands, is the third, marked D, and known as the Mare Serenitatis. It is nearly square, being about 330 miles in length and width. But it has one most extraordinary peculiarity, which is a perfectly straight ridge of hills, certainly not more than five miles wide, which starts in a direct line from its southern to its northern shore, dividing it exactly in the midst. This singular ridge is perfectlysui generis, being altogether unlike any mountain chain either on this earth or on the moon itself. It is so very keen, that its great concentration of the solar light renders it visible to small telescopes; but its character is so strikingly peculiar, that we could not resist the temptation to depart from our predetermined adherence to a general survey, and examine it particularly. Our lens Gxbrought it within the small distance of 800 yards, and its whole width of four or five miles snuglywithin that of our canvass. Nothing that we had hitherto seen more highly excited our astonishment. Believe it or believe it not, it was one entire crystallization!—its edge, throughout its whole length of 340 miles, is an acute angle of solid quartz crystal, brilliant as a piece of Derbyshire spar just brought from a mine, and containing scarcely a fracture or a chasm from end to end! What a prodigious influence must our thirteen times larger globe have exercised upon this satellite, when an embryo in the womb of time, the passive subject of chemical affinity! We found that wonder and astonishment, as excited by objects in this distant world, were but modes and attributes of ignorance, which should give place to elevated expectations, and to reverential confidence in the illimitable power of the Creator.
"The dark expanse of waters to the south of the first great ocean has often been considered a fourth; but we found it to be merely a sea of the first class, entirely surrounded by land, and much more encumbered with promontories and islands than it has been exhibited in any lunar chart. One of its promontories runs from the vicinity of Pitatus (No. 19), in a slightly curved and very narrow line, to Bullialdus (No. 22), which is merely a circular head to it, 264 miles from its starting place. This is another mountainous ring, a marine volcano, nearly burnt out, and slumbering upon its cinders. But Pitatus, standing upon a bold cape of the southern shore, is apparently exulting in the might and majesty of its fires. The atmosphere being now quite free from vapor, we introduced the magnifiers to examine a large bright circle of hills which sweep close beside the western abutments of this flaming mountain. The hills were either of snow-white marble or semi-transparent crystal, we could not distinguish which, and they bounded another of those lovely green valleys, which, however monotonous in my descriptions, are of paradisaical beauty and fertility, and like primitive Eden in the bliss of their inhabitants. Dr. Herschel here again predicated another of his sagacious theories. He said the proximity of the flaming mountain, Bullialdus, must be so great a local convenience to dwellers in this valley during the long periodical absence ofsolar light, as to render it a place of populous resort for the inhabitants of all the adjacent regions, more especially as its bulwark of hills afforded an infallible security against any volcanic eruption that could occur. We therefore applied our full power to explore it, and rich indeed was our reward.
"The very first object in this valley that appeared upon our canvass was a magnificent work of art. It was a temple—a fane of devotion, or of science, which, when consecrated to the Creator,isdevotion of the loftiest order; for it exhibits his attributes purely free from the masquerade, attire, and blasphemous caricature of controversial creeds, and has the seal and signature of his own hand to sanction its aspirations. It was an equitriangular temple, built of polished sapphire, or of some resplendent blue stone, which, like it displayed a myriad points of golden light twinkling and scintillating in the sunbeams. Our canvass, though fifty feet in diameter, was too limited to receive more than a sixth part of it at one view, and the first part that appeared was near the centre of one of its sides, being three square columns, six feet in diameter at its base, and gently tapering to a height of seventy feet. The intercolumniations were each twelve feet. We instantly reduced our magnitude, so as to embrace the whole structure in one view, and then indeed it was most beautiful. The roof was composed of some yellow metal, and divided into three compartments, which were not triangular planes inclining to the centre, but subdivided, curbed, and separated, so as to present a mass of violently agitated flames rising from a common source of conflagration and terminating in wildly waving points. This design was too manifest, and too skilfully executed to be mistaken for a single moment. Through a few openings in these metallic flames we perceived a large sphere of a darker kind of metal nearly of a clouded copper color, which they enclosed and seemingly raged around, as if hieroglyphically consuming it. This was the roof; but upon each of the three corners there was a small sphere of apparently the same metal as the large centre one, and these rested upon a kind of cornice, quite new in any order of architecture with which we are acquainted, but nevertheless exceedingly gracefuland impressive. It was like a half-opened scroll, swelling off boldly from the roof, and hanging far over the walls in several convolutions. It was of the same metal as the flames, and on each side of the building it was open at both ends. The columns, six on each side, were simply plain shafts, without capitals or pedestals, or any description of ornament; nor was any perceived in other parts of the edifice. It was open on each side, and seemed to contain neither seats, altars, nor offerings; but it was a light and airy structure, nearly a hundred feet high from its white glistening floor to its glowing roof, and it stood upon a round green eminence on the eastern side of the valley. We afterwards, however, discovered two others, which were in every respect fac-similes of this one; but in neither did we perceive any visitants besides flocks of wild doves which alighted upon its lustrous pinnacles. Had the devotees of these temples gone the way of all living, or were the latter merely historical monuments? What did the ingenious builders mean by the globe surrounded by flames? Did they by this record any past calamity oftheirworld, or predict any future one ofours? I by no means despair of ultimately solving not only these but a thousand other questions which present themselves respecting the objects in this planet; for not the millionth part of her surface has yet been explored, and we have been more desirous of collecting the greatest possible number of new facts, than of indulging in speculative theories, however seductive to the imagination.
"But we had not far to seek for inhabitants of this 'Vale of the Triads.' Immediately on the outer border of the wood which surrounded, at the distance of half a mile, the eminence on which the first of these temples stood, we saw several detached assemblies of beings whom we instantly recognized to be of the same species as our winged friends of the Ruby Colosseum near the lake Langrenus. Having adjusted the instrument for a minute examination, we found that nearly all the individuals in these groups were of a larger stature than the former specimens, less dark in color, and inevery respectan improved variety of the race. They were chiefly engaged in eating a large yellow fruit like a gourd, sections of which theydivided with their fingers, and ate with rather uncouth voracity, throwing away the rind. A smaller red fruit, shaped like a cucumber, which we had often seen pendant from trees having a broad dark leaf, was also lying in heaps in the centre of several of the festive groups; but the only use they appeared to make of it was sucking its juice, after rolling it between the palms of their hands and nibbling off an end. They seemed eminently happy, and even polite, for we saw, in many instances, individuals sitting nearest these piles of fruit, select the largest and brightest specimens, and throw them archwise across the circle to some opposite friend or associate who had extracted the nutriment from those scattered around him, and which were frequently not a few. While thus engaged in their rural banquets, or in social converse, they were always seated with their knees flat upon the turf, and their feet brought evenly together in the form of a triangle. And for some mysterious reason or other this figure seemed to be an especial favorite among them; for we found that every group or social circle arranged itself in this shape before it dispersed, which was generally done at the signal of an individual who stepped into the centre and brought his hands over his head in an acute angle. At this signal each member of the company extended his arms forward so as to form an acute horizontal angle with the extremity of the fingers. But this was not the only proof we had that they were creatures of order and subordination. * * * * We had no opportunity of seeing them actually engaged in any work of industry or art; and so far as we could judge, they spent their happy hours in collecting various fruits in the woods, in eating, flying, bathing, and loitering about upon the summits of precipices. * * * * But although evidently the highest order of animals in this rich valley, they were not its only occupants. Most of the other animals which we had discovered elsewhere, in very distant regions, were collected here; and also at least eight or nine new species of quadrupeds. The most attractive of these was a tall white stag with lofty spreading antlers, black as ebony. We several times saw this elegant creature trot up to the seated parties of the semi-human beings I have described, and browse the herbageclose beside them, without the least manifestation of fear on its part or notice on theirs. The universal state of amity among all classes of lunar creatures, and the apparent absence of every carnivorous or ferocious species, gave us the most refined pleasure, and doubly endeared to us this lovely nocturnal companion of our larger, but less favored world. Ever again when I 'eye the blue vault and bless theusefullight,' shall I recall the scenes of beauty, grandeur, and felicity, I have beheld upon her surface, not 'asthrougha glass darkly, but face to face;' and never shall I think of that line of our thrice noble poet,
——'Meek Diana's crestSails through the azure air, an island of the blest,'
——'Meek Diana's crestSails through the azure air, an island of the blest,'
——'Meek Diana's crestSails through the azure air, an island of the blest,'
without exulting in my knowledge of its truth."
With the careful inspection of this instructive valley, and a scientific classification of its animal, vegetable, and mineral productions, the astronomers closed their labors for the night; labors rather mental than physical, and oppressive, from the extreme excitement which they naturally induced. A singular circumstance occurred the next day, which threw the telescope quite out of use for nearly a week, by which time the moon could be no longer observed that month. The great lens, which was usually lowered during the day, and placed horizontally, had, it is true, been lowered as usual, but had been inconsiderately left in a perpendicular position. Accordingly, shortly after sunrise the next morning, Dr. Herschel and his assistants, Dr. Grant and Messrs. Drummond and Home, who slept in a bungalow erected a short distance from the observatory circle, were awakened by the loud shouts of some Dutch farmers and domesticated Hottentots (who were passing with their oxen to agricultural labor), that the "big house" was on fire! Dr. Herschel leaped out of bed from his brief slumbers, and, sure enough, saw his observatory enveloped in a cloud of smoke.
Luckily it had been thickly covered, within and without, with a coat of Roman plaster, or it would inevitably have been destroyed with all its invaluable contents; but, as it was, a hole fifteen feet in circumference had been burnt completely through the "reflecting chamber," which was attached to theside of the observatory nearest the lens, through the canvass field on which had been exhibited so many wonders that will ever live in the history of mankind, and through the outer wall. So fierce was the concentration of the solar rays through the gigantic lens, that a clump of trees standing in a line with them was set on fire, and the plaster of the observatory walls, all round the orifice, was vitrified to blue glass. The lens being almost immediately turned, and a brook of water being within a few hundred yards, the fire was soon extinguished, but the damage already done was not inconsiderable. The microscope lenses had fortunately been removed for the purpose of being cleaned, but several of the metallic reflectors were so fused as to be rendered useless. Masons and carpenters were procured from Cape Town with all possible dispatch, and in about a week the whole apparatus was again prepared for operation.
The moon being now invisible Dr. Herschel directed his inquiries to the primary planets of the system, and first to the planet Saturn. We need not say that this remarkable globe has for many ages been an object of the most ardent astronomical curiosity. The stupendous phenomenon of its double ring having baffled the scrutiny and conjecture of many generations of astronomers, was finally abandoned as inexplicable. It is well known that this planet is stationed in the system 900 millions of miles distant from the sun, and that having the immense diameter of 79,000 miles, it is more than nine hundred times larger than the earth. Its annual motion round the sun is not accomplished in less than twenty-nine and a half of our years, whilst its diurnal rotation upon its axis is accomplished in 10h. 16m., or considerably less than half a terrestrial day. It has not less than seven moons, the sixth and the seventh of which were discovered by the elder Herschel in 1789. It is thwarted by mysterious belts or bands of a yellowish tinge, and is surrounded by a double ring—the outer one of which is 204,000 miles in diameter. The outside diameter of the inner ring is 184,000 miles, and the breadth of the outer one being 7,200 miles, the space between them is 28,000 miles. The breadth of the inner ring is much greater than that of the other, being 20,000 miles; and its distance from the body of Saturn is morethan 30,000. These rings are opaque, but so thin that their edge has not until now been discovered. Sir John Herschel's most interesting discovery with regard to this planet is the demonstrated fact that these two rings are composed of the fragments of two destroyed worlds, formerly belonging to our solar system, and which, on being exploded, were gathered around the immense body of Saturn by the attraction of gravity, and yet kept from falling to its surface by the great centrifugal force created by its extraordinary rapidity on its axis. The inner ring was therefore the first of these destroyed worlds (the former station of which in the system is demonstrated in the argument which we subjoin), which was accordingly carried round by the rotary force, and spread forth in the manner we see. The outer ring is another world exploded in fragments, attracted by the law of gravity as in the former case, and kept from uniting with the inner ring by the centrifugal force of the latter. But the latter, having a slower rotation than the planet, has an inferior centrifugal force, and accordingly the space between the outer and inner ring is nearly ten times less than that between the inner ring and the body of Saturn. Having ascertained the mean density of the rings, as compared with the density of the planet, Sir John Herschel has been enabled to effect the following beautiful demonstration. [Which we omit, as too mathematical for popular comprehension.—Ed. Sun.]
Dr. Herschel clearly ascertained that these rings are composed of rocky strata, the skeletons of former globes, lying in a state of wild and ghastly confusion, but not devoid of mountains and seas. * * * * The belts across the body of Saturn he has discovered to be the smoke of a number of immense volcanoes, carried in these straight lines by the extreme velocity of the rotary motion. * * * * [And these also he has ascertained to be the belt of Jupiter.—But the portion of the work which is devoted to this subject, and to the other planets, as also that which describes the astronomer's discoveries among the stars, is comparatively uninteresting to general readers, however highly it might interest others of scientific taste and mathematical acquirements.—Ed. Sun.]
* * * * "It was not until the new moon of the month ofMarch, that the weather proved favorable to any continued series of lunar observations; and Dr. Herschel had been too enthusiastically absorbed in demonstrating his brilliant discoveries in the southern constellations, and in constructing tables and catalogues of his new stars, to avail himself of the few clear nights which intervened.
"On one of these, however, Mr. Drummond, myself, and Mr. Holmes, made those discoveries near the Bay of Rainbows, to which I have somewhere briefly alluded. The bay thus fancifully denominated is a part of the northern boundary of the first great ocean which I have lately described, and is marked in the chart with the letter O. The tract of country which we explored on this occasion is numbered 6, 5, 8, 7, in the catalogue, and the chief mountains to which these numbers are attached are severally named Atlas, Hercules, Heraclides Verus, and Heraclides Falsus. Still farther to the north of these is the island circle called Pythagoras, and numbered 1; and yet nearer the meridian line is the mountainous district marked R, and called the Land of Drought, and Q, the Land of Hoar Frost; and certainly the name of the latter, however theoretically bestowed, was not altogether inapplicable, for the tops of its very lofty mountains were evidently covered with snow, though the valleys surrounding them were teeming with the luxuriant fertility of midsummer. But the region which we first particularly inspected was that of Heraclides Falsus (No. 7), in which we found several new specimens of animals, all of which were horned and of a white or grey color; and the remains of three ancient triangular temples which had long been in ruins. We thence traversed the country southeastward, until we arrived at Atlas (No. 6), and it was in one of the noble valleys at the foot of this mountain that we found the very superior species of the Vespertilio-homo. In stature they did not exceed those last described, but they were of infinitely greater personal beauty, and appeared in our eyes scarcely less lovely than the general representations of angels by the more imaginative schools of painters. Their social economy seemed to be regulated by laws or ceremonies exactly like those prevailing in the Vale of the Triads, but their works of art weremore numerous, and displayed a proficiency of skill quite incredible to all except actual observers. I shall, therefore, let the first detailed account of them appear in Dr. Herschel's authenticated natural history of this planet."
[This concludes the Supplement, with the exception of forty pages of illustrative and mathematical notes, which would greatly enhance the size and price of this work, without commensurably adding to its general interest.—Ed. Sun.]
"Ye sacred muses, with whose beauty fir'd,My soul is ravish'd, and my brain inspir'd.Whose priest I am, whose holy fillets wear;Would you your poet's first petition hear;Give me the ways of wandering stars to know:The depths of heav'n above, and earth below.Teach me the various labours of the moon,And whence proceed th' eclipses of the sun.Why flowing tides prevail upon the main,And in what dark recess they shrink again.What shakes the solid earth, what cause delaysThe summer nights, and shortens winter days."Virgil.
"Ye sacred muses, with whose beauty fir'd,My soul is ravish'd, and my brain inspir'd.Whose priest I am, whose holy fillets wear;Would you your poet's first petition hear;Give me the ways of wandering stars to know:The depths of heav'n above, and earth below.Teach me the various labours of the moon,And whence proceed th' eclipses of the sun.Why flowing tides prevail upon the main,And in what dark recess they shrink again.What shakes the solid earth, what cause delaysThe summer nights, and shortens winter days."Virgil.
"Ye sacred muses, with whose beauty fir'd,My soul is ravish'd, and my brain inspir'd.Whose priest I am, whose holy fillets wear;Would you your poet's first petition hear;Give me the ways of wandering stars to know:The depths of heav'n above, and earth below.Teach me the various labours of the moon,And whence proceed th' eclipses of the sun.Why flowing tides prevail upon the main,And in what dark recess they shrink again.What shakes the solid earth, what cause delaysThe summer nights, and shortens winter days."Virgil.
Virgil.
The picture on the title-page is probably the best and minutest view of the moon, that has ever been laid before the public. Most of our readers are aware that the mountains and hollows of the moon have been accurately and thoroughly mapped by astronomers, and baptized by appropriate names. For the benefit of meritorious students of astronomical geography, we subjoin the names of all those which have been christened. At the present season it will amply repay the possessor of a small telescope to identify the several localities with the aid of the map.
In olden time the moon was a goddess. Whatever the ignorant mind of the time was incapable of grasping was supernatural. Thus arose the pale, chaste Deity of the Night, robed in virgin white, roaming dreamily under the partial shade of trees, loving to see her fair image reflected in streams, and shedding a complacent light on tender meetings. We are not heathens—far from it: but who among us has notat some time or other paid homage to the Queen of Night[1], and thanked her for the gentle light which has shown the way to some fair hand.
We say, in blunt scientific terms, that she—or it—is a satellite of the earth, suspended in her—or its—present position by the contrasted attraction of the sun and the earth. This is the unromantic version of the naked fact.
There was a time when the earth was an uncomfortable semi-incandescent mass, in the act of cooling off for practical purposes. The atmosphere was tropical throughout the globe. All things were intensely impregnated—or, as the philosophers say, supersaturated—with carbon. Between the dry land and the waters there was no division. There was no ocean, and consequently no continents. All was hot mud, with here and there a lake or a short river, and here and there a dry, parched, torrid eminence. In those days there were animals and plants, but no human beings. Both animals and plants were like the age in which they flourished—to our notions monstrous. Monsters were the rule, both in the vegetable and the animated world. Creatures were born, and grew to sizes which dwarf the elephant. Plants thrust their heads above the mud, and, in that carboniferous atmosphere, attained heightswhich would have towered above the tallest trees of our forests. But in proportion to the rapidity of their growth was the brevity of their life; for these were the days of earthquakes and terrestrial convulsions. Probably no day elapsed without some earthquake or volcanic eruption.
The light of day was dull and obscured. Masses of opaque matter floated through the atmosphere as thickly as dust specks float through a ray of sunlight in a darkened room.[3]The hot air, thick and dull, hung a listless mist over the face of the earth, which was even then almost without form and void. When the sun went down, dense darkness covered the earth. There was no lesser light to rule the night; dim twinklings in the far distance, hardly piercing the pall which wrapped our planet, were the only contrasts to the Egyptian blackness of the dark hours.
But the internal fires which sprung from the vitals of the earth almost supplied the want of a nocturnal luminary. It is probable that there were but few spots on the globe which were out of view of some flaming volcano. We count the active volcanoes by integers. When we have enumerated Etna, Vesuvius, Hecla, Jorullo, Colima, and one or two others, we have reached the end of our list. In the days of Homer the volcanoes were counted by scores; in the carboniferous age they may have, must have, flourished by hundreds and thousands. That vast incandescent mass, of which the crust only had cooled, kept boiling up every few hours, and furiously pouring out the vials of its wrath upon an earth inhabited by transitory creatures. Go where the traveller may, he will still find traces of this terrible age. That tell-tale rock—"the trap"—is peculiar to no meridian; and from the Hudson's Bay territories nearly to Cape Magellan, from Spitzbergen to Borneo, either this, or some mountain range of volcanic origin, here with scoriæ disseminated through the more regular formations, there with copper or gold held in a native state in half-decayed quartz, tell a very legible story of the time when all the component parts of the earth were in a fluid state, and were thrown off by the boiling mass beneath as a kettle throws off froth and scum.
There came a day when the under crust could no longer bear the weight of the mass which, after being thrown off daily, returned, by the force of gravitation, to the surface of its parent. A time came when theincandescent and inchoate planet—if so daring a figure may be ventured—felt the necessity of unusually strenuous measures. It gathered all its fiery energies, and mustered all its fearful strength. The effect was universal, not local. With such bodies distances of 25,000 miles must be trifling, and the earth's meridian—a paltry 8000 miles—not worth mentioning. One can imagine the purpose and effort being common to the entire molten and raging mass.
It came at last. After throes of inconceivable agony, with a roar and a convulsion which must have destroyed every living thing then existent upon the face of the planet, in the midst of general chaos, confusion, and desolation, the earth relieved itself. It tore from its half-cooled surface immense masses, and projected them with monstrous force into space; not on one side alone, but on all. Lumps of earth four and five miles in thickness, and thousands of miles long and wide, were in an instant forced upwards with such force as to pass beyond the circle of the earth's attraction. These various masses, thus launched into space, soon felt the attraction of each other, and assembled together. They met, and, agreeably to the sublime law of celestial bodies, remained suspended in space at the point where the attraction of the earth meets that of the sun. That other celestial law which forbids the torpidity of any atom of matter compelled the aggregated mass to revolve, and the revolution forced the mass into a spherical shape.
Thus the moon came into being. An offshoot from the earth, it pays homage to its parent by revolving round it, and reflecting back to it a part of the sun's light during the period when that luminary is obscured to us. Had the force with which its substance was expelled from the body of the earth been less, it would have returned to our surface, just as those fragments of matter called aerolites do at regular intervals; had that force been greater, it would have entered upon the vast area which is the domain of the sun, and would have been attracted to that great cosmical body, and been fused by its intense heat. It was sent abroad with precisely the force necessary to sustain itin equilibriobetween the earth and the sun, and hence it is "the lesser light which rules the night."
This is not the only service which it renders us. By its creation it caused great hollows in the surface of the earth. Into these hollows the waters which lay on the face of the deep naturally gathered, and became oceans, lakes, seas, and rivers. The cavities drained the earth of the moisture which had rendered it unfit for the habitation of the higher order of vertebrated creatures. Thus by degrees were formed the greatAtlantic and Pacific, the Northern and the Southern oceans, leaving here and there tracts of cool, dry land for man to inhabit at the word of his Creator. Nor did the office of the moon stop here. While it was upheld in space by the attraction of the earth, it returned the compliment by exercising a reciprocal attraction upon the waters for which it had created beds. With the beautiful regularity which is the characteristic of heavenly bodies, it affected them at uniform intervals, causing the tides to flow and to ebb, and to vibrate between the spring and the neap flow. Lastly, it relieved the earth of a vast quantity of superincumbent matter, equal, in fact, to over one-fiftieth of the whole bulk of the planet. One must imagine the earth in the condition of a gentleman who has dined copiously, and whose interior is troubled by an unusual burden; the convulsion which led to the creation of the moon is similar to the effect of the dose which the gentleman, if he be wise, will instantly take.
In departing from us, and setting up for herself, the moon forgot some articles of baggage which were essential to her future comfort and prosperity. Among these were air and water. How we came by these two useful commodities it were hard to say.
This is made quite certain by the discoveries of astronomers. Rains, dews, oceans, lakes, hail, snow, clouds, are all unknown to the moon. Nothing shields its surface from the burning rays of the sun. Wherever the light of that fierce luminary penetrates the moon's surface is incessantly hot.
Of volcanic origin, the moon is true to its descent. It is full of volcanoes, most of which, however, perhaps from a conviction of the uselessness of further action—there being nothing to destroy, and no one even to see their explosions—are now silent and torpid. But they wrought out their destiny so long and so faithfully, that the surface of the moon is frightfully disfigured and uneven. Switzerland is a prairie compared to the smoothest part of the moon's surface. It is nothing but incessant mountain and hollow. Lunar Alps and Rocky Mountains intersect every few miles of the surface. The Himalayas would be unnoticed among the gigantic ranges which ornament the lunar superficies. And the projections, mighty as they are, are but trifling in comparison with the hollows. It would seem as though the moon, with apish weakness, had tried to imitate the earth in throwing off space for rivers and oceans—forgetting that it contained no water to fill the cavities. Astronomers have made the most extraordinary discoveries in reference to these lunar hollows. Some of them appear to be about fifty miles deep, and ahundred miles or so wide, with precipitous sides; Mitchell has vividly described these terrible places. Those who have looked over a precipice a few hundred feet in depth may perhaps form some rude idea of what it must be to gaze down into a hole fifty miles deep—so deep that the bottom would almost escape the eye, were there an intervening atmosphere—a great, monstrous cave, with no vegetation either on the borders or on the top, or on the sides or on the bottom; no life of any kind, not even, the least sound, to break the endless monotony of silence—everywhere dull, warm scoriæ, lava, and stones of volcanic origin. But even these are the smallest of the lunar cavities. Latterly, acute astronomers, with improved instruments, have gazed into holes in the moon's surface, and estimated them to be no less than two hundred and fifty and three hundred miles deep, with fissures in them through which the sunlight penetrated.
Fancy the scene! Well may it have been termed the abomination of desolation. Surely this fair earth, with all its gloomy places and all its dreary scenes, contains nothing so overwhelming in its terrible despair as the moon. And who, gazing at its mild white face as it emerges from the cover of a cloud, would deem it so sad and desolate a sphere?
There are no "men in the moon," There cannot be, for they could not exist without air and water. 'Tis a pity, for the sight of this planet of ours, thirteen times the size which the moon appears to us, as fair, and bright, and shining as our nightly luminary, would be a sight worth seeing.
Science has made such progress, and common sense has so far kept pace with it, that the old idea that this was the only inhabited sphere in the universe is now completely exploded. There is no reason to believe that our planet is the only one in our solar system which is devoted to a useful career; nor is there any ground for imagining that our sun is the only one, of the myriad of suns we see every night, which gives light, and heat, and happiness to human creatures. On the contrary, the supreme wisdom of the Deity affords a fair presumption that this little planet of ours is but as a grain of sand among the worlds which have been created for the glory of God, and that each planet after its kind is fitted for the habitation of creatures whose office and purpose it is to thank and bless Him for their existence. Moons may be an exception for a time.
Of all this we know but little, and can only conjecture vaguely. As science advances, we may have telescopic instruments so superior to those now in use that we shall be able to decipher the moon's surface asplainly as a distant shore on our own planet. But visits thither must ever remain as impossible as they are at present. The story of Hans Pfall will remain a brilliant imagination to the end of time.
"In consequence of the moon having no atmosphere, or but a very thin one, all celestial objects must be seen with very great distinctness. The earth, when full, appears to an inhabitant of the moon thirteen times as large as the moon appears to us; that is, its diameter is about 3-6/10 times as large as our apparent lunar diameter. It is always on the same part of the heaven, when seen from the same part of the moon. M. Quetelet, in hisAstronomie Elémentaire, Paris, 1826, a very good work, which ought to be translated, has the following remarks on the appearance of the earth at the moon, which we would rather quote than vouch for, though they may possibly be well founded.
"Our vast continents, our seas, even our forests are visible to them; they perceive the enormous piles of ice collected at the poles, and the girdle of vegetation which extends on both sides of the equator; as well as the clouds which float over our heads, and sometimes hide us from them. The burning of a town or forest could not escape them, and if they had good optical instruments, they could even see the building of a new town, or the sailing of a fleet."
The lunar day, as we shall afterwards see, is equivalent to our actual month of 29½ days: though the rotation of the moon on her axis is performed in the sidereal month of 27 days 8 hours nearly. Hence the inhabitant of the moon sees the sun for 14¾ of our days together, which time is followed by a night of the same duration. Of course the existence of any animal like man is impossible there, as well on this account as on that of the want of an atmosphere.
The phases which the earth presents to the moon are similar in appearance to those which the moon presents to the earth, but in a different order. Thus, when it is new moon at the earth, it is full earth at the moon: and the contrary. When the moon is in her first quarter, the earth is in its third quarter, and so on; while half-moon at the earth is accompanied by half-earth at the moon.
There is no branch of science better fitted to be made the leading subject of general instruction than that which relates to the planetary and sidereal universe. The truths which it reveals are so startling in their nature, and apparently so far beyond the reach of human intelligence, that men of high literary name have confessed their incapacity to understand them, and their inability to believe them. There are few, indeed, we fear, who really believe that they sojourn on a revolvingglobe, and that each day and year of life is measured by its revolutions. There are few who believe that the great luminary of the firmament, whose restless activity they daily witness, is an immovable star, controlling, by its solid mass, the primary planets of our system, and forming, as it were, the gnomon of the great dial which measures the thread of life and the tenure of empires. Fewer still believe that each of the million of stars—those atoms of light which the telescope can scarcely descry—are the centres of planetary systems that may equal or surpass our own; and still smaller is the number who believe that the solid pavement of the globe upon which we nightly slumber is an elastic crust, imprisoning fires and forces which have often burst forth in tremendous energy, and are, at this very instant, struggling to escape—now finding an outlet in volcanic fires—now heaving and shaking the earth—now upraising islands and continents, and gathering strength perhaps for some final outburst which may shatter our earth in pieces, or change its form, or scatter its waters over the land. And yet these are truths than which there is nothing truer, and nothing more worthy of our study.
In order to learn, then, what is the constitution, and what has been or may be the probable history of the various worlds in our firmament, we must study the constitution and physical history of our own. The men of limited reason who believed that the earth was created and launched into its ethereal course when man was summoned to its occupation, must have either denied altogether the existence of our solar system, or have regarded all its planets as coeval with their own, and as but the ministers to its convenience. Science, however, has now corrected this error, and liberated the pious mind from its embarrassments. The Palæontologist—the student of ancient life—has demonstrated, by evidence not to be disputed, that the earth had been inhabited by animals and adorned with plants during immeasurable cycles of time antecedent to the creation of man—that when the volcano, the earthquake, and the flood, had destroyed and buried them, nobler forms of life were created to undergo the same fiery ordeal:—and that, by a series of successive creations and catastrophes, the earth was prepared for the residence of man, and the rich materials in its bosom elaborated for his use, and thrown within his grasp. In the age of our own globe, then, we see the age of its brother planets, and in the antiquity of our own system we see the antiquity of the other systems of the universe. In our catastrophes, too, we recognise theirs, and in our advancing knowledge and progressive civilization, we witness the development of the universalmind—the march of the immortal spirit to its final destiny of glory or of shame.
The following are the names which have been given to the mountains and valleys, or hollows, in the moon, and which are referred to in the accompanying picture [See title page].
MOUNTAINS.
HOLLOWS, OR VALLEYS.
As will be seen, astronomers have done what they could to relieve the dreariness of nature by a free indulgence in fanciful names.
Dr. Chalmers, speaking of the advantages derived from the discovery of the telescope and microscope, says, "The one led me to see a system in every star. The other leads me to see a world in every atom. The one taught me that this mighty globe, with the whole burden of its people, and of its countries, is but a grain of sand on the high field of immensity. The other teaches me that every grain of sand may harbor within it the tribes and families of a busy population. The one told me of the insignificance of the world I tread upon. The other redeems it from all its insignificance; for it tells me that in the leaves of every forest, and in the flowers of every garden, and in the waters of every rivulet, there are worlds teeming with life, and numberless as are the glories of the firmament. The one has suggested to me that beyondand above all that is visible to man, there may lie fields of creation which sweep immeasurably along, and carry the impress of the Almighty's hand to the remotest scenes of the universe. The other suggests to me, that within and beneath all that minuteness which the aided eye of man has been able to explore, there may lie a region of invisibles; and that, could we draw aside the mysterious curtain which shrouds it from our senses, we might there see a theatre of as many wonders as astronomy has unfolded; a universe within the compass of a point so small, as to elude all the powers of the microscope, but where the wonder-working God finds room for the exercise of all his attributes, where he can raise another mechanism of worlds, and fill and animate them all with the evidences of his glory."
Opinions of the American Press Respecting the Foregoing Discovery.
"Herschel's Great Discoveries.—We are too much pleased with the remarks of the sensible, candid, and scientific portions of the public press upon the extracts which we have published relative to these wonders of the age, to direct our attention very severely to-day to that sceptical class of our contemporaries to whom none of these attributes can be ascribed. Consummate ignorance is always incredulous to the higher order of scientific discoveries, because it cannot possibly comprehend them. Its mental thorax is quite capacious enough to swallow any dogmas, however great, that are given upon the authority of names; but it strains most perilously to receive the great truths of reason and science. We scarcely ever knew a very ignorant person who would believe in the existence of those myriads of invisible beings which inhabit a drop of water, and every grain of dust, until he had actually beheld them through the microscope by which they are developed. Yet these very persons will readily believe in the divinity of Matthias the prophet, and in the most improbable credenda of extravagant systems of faith. TheJournal of Commerce, for instance, says it cannot believe in these great discoveries of Dr. Herschel, yet it believes and defends the innocence of the murderer Avery. These who in a former age imprisoned Galileo for assertinghisgreat discoveries with the telescope, and determined upon sentencing him to be burnt alive, nevertheless believed that Simon Magus actually flew in the air by the aid of the devil, and that when thataid was withdrawn he fell to the ground and broke his neck. The great mechanical discoverer, Worcester, obtained no credence for his theories in his day, though they are now being continually demonstrated by practical operation. Happily, however, those who impudently and ignorantly deny the great discoveries of Herschel, are chiefly to be found among those whose faith or whose scepticism, would never be received as a guide for the opinions of other men. From among that portion of the public press whose intelligence and acquirements render them competent judges of the great scientific questions now before the community, we extract the following frank declarations of their opinions."—New York Sun, Sep. 1, 1835.
"No article, we believe, has appeared for years, that will command so general a perusal and publication. Sir John has added a stock of knowledge to the present age that will immortalize his name, and place it high on the page of science."—Daily Advertiser.
"Discoveries in the Moon.—We commence to-day the publication of an interesting article which is stated to have been copied from theEdinburgh Journal of Science, and which made its first appearance here in a contemporary journal of this city. It appears to carry intrinsic evidence of being an authentic document."—Mercantile Advertiser.
"Stupendous Discovery in Astronomy.—We have read with unspeakable emotions of pleasure and astonishment, an article from the lastEdinburgh Scientific Journal, containing an account of the recent discoveries of Sir John Herschel at the Cape of Good Hope."—Albany Daily Advertiser.
"It is quite proper that theSunshould be the means of shedding so much light on theMoon. That there should be winged people in the Moon does not strike us as more wonderful than the existence of such a race of beings on earth; and that there does or did exist such a race rests on the evidence of that most veracious of voyagers and circumstantial of chroniclers, Peter Wilkins, whose celebrated work not only gives an account of the general appearance and habits of a most interesting tribe of flying Indians, but also of all those more delicate and engaging traits which the author was enabled to discover by reason of the conjugal relations he entered into with one of the females of the winged tribe."—N. Y. Evening Post.
"We think we can trace in it marks of transatlantic origin."—N. Y. Commercial Advertiser.
"The writer (Dr. Andrew Grant) displays the most extensive and accurate knowledge of astronomy, and the description of Sir John'srecently improved instruments, the principle on which the inestimable improvements were founded, the account of the wonderful discoveries in the moon, &c., are all probable and plausible, and have an air of intense verisimilitude."—N. Y. Times.
"Great Astronomical Discoveries!—By the late arrivals from England there has been received in this country a supplement to theEdinburgh Journal of Sciencecontaining intelligence of the most astounding interest from Prof. Herschel's observatory at the Cape of Good Hope.... The promulgation of these discoveries creates a new era in astronomy and science generally."—New Yorker.
"Our enterprising neighbors of theSun, we are pleased to learn, are likely to enjoy a rich reward from the latelunardiscoveries. They deserve all they receive from the public—'they are worthy.'"—N. Y. Spirit of '76.
"After all, however, our doubts and incredulity may be a wrong to the learned astronomer, and the circumstances of this wonderful discovery may be correct. Let us do him justice, and allow him to tell his story in his own way."—N. Y. Sunday News.
"The article is said to be an extract from a supplement to theEdinburgh Journal of Science. It sets forth difficulties encountered by Sir John, on obtaining his glass castings for his great telescope, with magnifying powers of 42,000.The account, excepting the magnifying power, has been before published" [i. e., in the Supplement to theEdinburgh Journal of Science.—Ed.Sun].—U. S. Gazette.
"It is not worth while for us to express an opinion as to the truth or falsity of the narrative, as our readers can, after an attentive perusal of the whole story, decide for themselves. Whether true or false, the article is written with consummate ability, and possesses intense interest."—Philadelphia Inquirer.
"These are but a handful of the innumerable certificates of credence, and of complimentary testimonials with which the universal press of the country is loading our tables. Indeed, we find very few of the public papers express any other opinion. We have named theJournal of Commerceas an exception, because it not only ignorantly doubted the authenticity of the discoveries, but ill-naturedly said that we had fabricated them for the purpose of making a noise and drawing attention to our paper.
"Col. Webb of theCourier and Inquirerhas said nothing upon the subject; but he only feels the more, and we are this moment assured that he has made arrangements with the proprietors of the Charlestonsteam-packets to take the splendid boat William Gibbons of that line, and charter her for the Cape of Good Hope, whither he is going with all his family—including Hoskin.
"We yesterday extracted from the celebrated Supplement, a mathematical problem demonstrating an entirely new, and the only true method of measuring the height of the lunar mountains. We were not then aware of its great importance as a demonstration, also, of the authenticity of the great discoveries. But several eminent mathematicians have since called and assured us, that it is the greatest mathematical discovery of the present age. Now, that problem was either predicated by us, or by some other person, who has thereby made the greatest of all modern discoveries in mathematical astronomy. We did not make it, for we know nothing of mathematics whatever; therefore, it was made by the only person to whom it can rationally be ascribed, namely, Herschel the astronomer, its only avowed and undeniable author."—Editor of the Sun.