A Discovery of New Worlds/The Second Night

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A Discovery of New Worlds
by Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle, translated by Aphra Behn

The Second Night

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4715250A Discovery of New Worlds — The Second NightAphra BehnBernard le Bovier de Fontenelle

The Second Night.

As soon as one could get into my Lady Marquiese's Apartment, I sent to know how she did, and how she had slept that Night in turning round. She sent me word, that now she was pretty well accustom'd to the Motion of the Earth, and that Copernicus himself cou'd not have rested better that Night than she did. A little after this, there came Company to visit my Lady, which, according to the nauseous Country-fashion, stay'd till the Evening, and yet we thought our selves happy that we were so easily rid of 'em then, since, according to the custom of the Country, they might have prolong'd their Visit till the next Day; but they were so civil, as not to do it; so that Madam the Marquiese and I found our selves at liberty. In the Evening we went again to the Park, and the Conversation began as it ended before, of our System: My Lady Marquiese had comprehended 'em so well, that she wou'd not be at the pains to re-assume any thing of what had pass'd, but press'd me to lead her to something that was new. Well, said I, since the Sun, which is now immoveable, and no longer a Planet; and that the Earth, that moves round the Sun, is now one, be not surpriz'd if I tell you, the Moon is another Earth, and is, by all appearance, inhabited. Said she, I never heard of the Moon's being inhabited, but as a Fable. So it may be still, said I; I concern my self no further in these Matters, than Men use to do in Civil Wars; where the Uncertainty of what may be, makes People still entertain a Correspondence with the adverse Party: As for me, tho' I see the Moon inhabited, I live very civilly with those that do not believe it; and I carry my self so trimmingly, that I may, upon occasion, with Honour go over to their side who have the better; but still they gain some considerable Advantage over us. I'll tell you my Reasons that make me take part with the Inhabitants of the Moon: Suppose then, there had never been any Commerce between Paris and St. Denis, and that a Citizen of Paris, who had never been out of that City, shou'd go up to the top of the Steeple of our Lady, and shou'd view St. Denis at a distance, and one shou'd ask him if he believ'd St. Denis to be inhabited; he wou'd answer boldly, Not at all; for (he wou'd say) I see the Inhabitants of Paris, but I do not see those of St. Denis, nor ever heard of 'em. It may be, some body standing by, wou'd represent to him, That it was true, one cou'd not see the Inhabitants of St. Denis from our Lady's Church, but that the distance was the cause of it; yet that all we cou'd see of St. Denis, was very like to Paris; for St. Denis had Steeples, Houses and Walls; and that it might resemble Paris in every thing else, and be inhabited as well as it. All these Arguments wou'd not prevail upon my Citizen; who wou'd continue still obstinate in maintaining, that St. Denis was not inhabited, because he saw none of the People. The Moon is our St. Denis, and we the Citizens of Paris, that never went out of our own Town. Ah, interrupted the Marquiese, you do us wrong; we are not so foolish as your Citizens of Paris: Since he sees that St. Denis is so like to Paris in every thing, he must have lost his Reason, if he did not think it was inhabited: But for the Moon, that's nothing like the Earth. Have a care, Madam, said I, what you say; for if I make it appear, that the Moon is in every thing like the Earth, you are oblig'd to believe that the Moon is inhabited. I acknowledge, said she, if you do that, I must yield; and your Looks are so assur'd, that you frighten me already: The two different Motions of the Earth, which wou'd never have enter'd into my Thoughts, make me very apprehensive of all you say. But is it possible that the Earth can be an enlighten'd Body, as the Moon is? For, to resemble it, it must be so. Alas, Madam, said I, to be enlightned, is not so great a matter as you imagine, and the Sun only is remarkable for that Quality: 'tis he alone that is enlightned of himself, by virtue of his particular Essence; but the other Planets shine only, as being enlightned by the Sun: The Sun communicates his Light to the Moon, which reflects it upon the Earth; as the Earth, without doubt, reflects it back again to the Moon, since the distance from the Moon to the Earth is the same as from the Earth to the Moon.

But, said the Marquiese, is the Earth as proper for reflecting the Light of the Sun, as the Moon? You are always for the Moon, said I, and you cannot rid your self of those Remains of Kindness you have for her. Light is compos'd for little Balls, which rebound upon any solid Body, which is opaque, or obscure, and are sent back another way; whereas they pass through any thing that offers them an Opening, or Passage, in a streight Line; which is Diaplanus, or clear; such as Air and Glass: So that the Moon enlightens us, because she is an Opaque, solid Body, which retorts these little Balls upon us; and I believe you will not dispute the same Solidity to the Earth. Admire then, Madam, how advantageous it is, to be well posted; so that the Moon being at a great distance from us, we see it as an enlightned Body only, but are ignorant that 'tis a gross, solid Mass, very much like the Earth: On the other hand, the Earth having the ill luck to be seen by us too near, we consider it only as a great massy Body, fit only for the producing of Food for living Creatures. 'Tis just, said the Marquiese, as when we are struck and surpriz'd with the Splendour of Quality above our own; we do not perceive, that in the main, there's no difference between them and us. 'Tis just so, said I; and we will needs be judging of every thing; but we have the mis-fortune, still to be plac'd in a false Light: Wou'd we judge of our selves, we are too near; if of others, we are too far off: Cou'd one be plac'd between the Moon and the Earth, that wou'd be a true Station to consider both well: To this End, we ought only to be Spectators of the World, and not Inhabitants. I shall never be satisfy'd, said the Marquiese, with the Injury we do the Earth, in being too favourably engag'd for the Inhabitants of the Moon, unless you can assure me, that they are as ignorant of their Advantages, as we are of ours; and that they take our Earth for a Star, without knowing that the Globe they inhabit is one also. Be assur'd of that, Madam, said I, that the Earth appears to them to perform all the Functions of a Star: 'Tis true, they do not see the Earth describe a Circle round 'em, but that's all one; I'll explain to you what it is: That side of the Moon which was turn'd towards the Earth at the beginning of the World, has continu'd towards the Earth ever since; which still represents to us these same Eyes, Nose and Mouth, which our Imaginations fansie we see compos'd of these Spots, Lights and Shadows, which are the Surface of the Moon: Cou'd we see the other half of the Moon, 'tis possible our Fancy wou'd represent to us some other Figure. This does not argue, but the Moon turns however upon her own Axis, and takes as much time to perform that Revolution, as she does to go round the Earth in a Month. But then, when the Moon performs a part of her Revolutions on her own Axis, and that she ought to hide from us (for Example) one Cheek of this imaginary Face, and appear to us in another Position, she does at the same time perform as much of the Circle she describes in turning round the Earth; and tho' she is in a new Point of Sight or Opposition as to us, yet she represents to us still the same Cheek: So that the Moon, in regard to the Sun, and the other Planets, turns upon her own Axis; but does not so as to the Earth.

The Inhabitants of the Moon see all the other Planets rise and set in the space of fifteen Days, but they see our Earth always hanging in the same Point of the Heavens. This seeming Immovability does not very well agree with a Body that ought to pass for a Planet; but the truth is, the Earth is not in such perfection: Besides, the Moon has a certain trembling Quality, which does sometimes hide a little of her imaginary Face, and at other times shews a little of her opposite Side; and no doubt but the Inhabitants of the Moon attribute this shaking to the Earth, and believe we make a certain swinging in the Heavens, like the Pendulum of a Clock. All these Planets, said the Marquiese, are like us Mortals, who always cast our own Faults upon others: Says the Earth, It is not I that turn round, 'tis the Sun: Says the Moon, It is not I that tremble, 'tis the Earth: There are Errors and Mistakes every where. I wou'd not advise you, said I, to undertake to reform any of 'em; 'tis better that I make an end in convincing you, that the Moon is in all things like the Earth. Represent to your self these two great Globes, hanging in the Heavens; you know that the Sun does always enlighten one half of any Globe, and the other half is in the Shadow; there is therefore always one half of both Moon and Earth that is enlightned, or half Day, and the other half is still in the Darkness of Night. Be pleas'd, besides, to consider that a Ball has less force and swiftness after it re-bounds from a Wall, against which it was thrown, than it had before it touch'd the Wall, which sends it another way; so Light is not so strong, after 'tis reflected by any solid Body: This pale Light which comes to us from the Moon, is the Light of the Sun it self, but we have it only by Reflection from the Moon, and has lost a great deal of that Strength and Vivacity which it had when 'twas receiv'd by the Moon, directly from the Sun; and that bright and dazling Light which we receive from the Sun, must in the same manner appear to the Inhabitants of the Moon, after 'tis reflected by the Earth, on the Moon: So that the Surface of the Moon, which we see enlightned, and which shines upon us in the Night, is that half of the Moon that enjoys the Day, as that half of the Globe of the Earth which is enlightned by the Sun, when 'tis turn'd towards the darkned half of the Globe of the Moon, does give Light to the Inhabitants there, during their Nights. All depends upon the different Opposition and Aspects between the Moon and the Earth: The first and second Day of the Moon, we do not see her, because she is betwixt the Sun and us, and moves with the Sun by our Day; it necessarily follows, that the half of the Moon which is enlightned, is turn'd towards the Sun, and the obscure part towards the Earth; 'tis no wonder then, that we cannot see that half which is dark; but that same half of the Moon which is in Darkness, being turn'd towards the enlightned half of the Earth, the Inhabitants see us, without being seen, and the Earth appears to them, as their Full-Moon does to us; and so, if one may use the Expression, 'tis with them Full-Earth. After this, the Moon going on in her Monthly Circle, dis-engages her self from the Sun, and begins to turn towards us a part of her enlightned half, which is the Crescent; at the very same time, the darkned half of the Moon loses some share of the enlightned part of the Earth, and then the Earth is in the Wain, as to its Inhabitants.

Say no more, said the Marquiese, briskly, I shall know all the rest when I please; I need only think a little, and follow the Moon in her Monthly Circle: I see in general, that the Inhabitants of the Moon have their Month, the exact Reverse of ours; and I am perswaded, when 'tis Full-Moon, the enlightned half of it is turn'd towards the obscure part of the Earth, and then they do not see us, but a certain new Earth. I wou'd not have any Body reproach me with the want of so much Sence, as that you need explain so easie a thing to me. But as to the Eclipses, What is the Cause of them? If you do not understand that, said I, 'tis your own fault. When 'tis New Moon, and that she is between the Sun and the Earth, and that all her obscure half is turn'd towards us, who then enjoy the Day, you may see easily, that the Shadow of this darkned half is cast upon the Earth; if the Moon be directly under the Sun, this Shadow hides the Sun from us, and at the same time darkens a part of the enlightned half of the Earth, which was seen by the Inhabitants of the obscure half of the Moon: And this is an Eclipse of the Sun to us, in our Day; and an Eclipse of the Earth to those in the Moon, in their Night. When the Moon is at the Full, the Earth is betwixt her and the Sun, and all the obscure part of the Earth is turn'd towards the enlightned half of the Moon, the Shadow of the Earth is then cast upon the Moon; and if it falls directly on her Surface, it obscures the enlightned half which we see, and hides the Sun from that enlightned part of the Moon that enjoy'd the Day: This is an Eclipse of the Moon to us, during our Night; and an Eclipse of the Sun to them, during their Day. By this Reason, it falls out, that there are not always Eclipses when the Moon interposes between the Sun and the Earth, or the Earth is interjected between the Sun and the Moon; because these three Bodies are not opposite one to another, in a streight Line; and by consequence, that of the three, which ought to make the Eclipse, casts its shadow a little to one side of that which shou'd be eclips'd.

I am extreamly surpriz'd, said the Marquiese, that (since there is so little of Mystery or Difficulty in Eclipses) every body does not find out the Cause of 'em. Do not wonder at that, said I, Madam; there are many Nations in the World, that, as they go to work, will not find it out for Ages to come; for all over the East-India's, the Inhabitants believe, that when the Sun or Moon is eclips'd, certain Demons, or Spirits, who have very black Claws, do stretch them forth upon these two Luminaries, which he endeavours to sieze: and during the time of the Eclipse, you may see all the Rivers cover'd with Heads of Indians; for they go into the Water, up to the Neck, thinking that most devout posture for obtaining from the Sun and Moon, a defence against that Demon. In America, the People were perswaded, that the Sun and Moon were angry with 'em when they were eclips'd; and God knows what pains they are at, to make their Peace with 'em. But the Grecians, who were so polite a People, Did not they believe for a long time, that the Moon was bewitch'd, and that the Magicians made her come down, to throw a certain poisonous Scum or Dew upon the Herbs and Grass? And even we our selves, Were we not frightned out of our Wits at an Eclipse of the Sun, that happen'd about thirty Years since? Did not a great many People shut themselves up in Vaults and Cellars? And did not the learned Men write in vain, to assure us, there was no danger? Certainly, said the Marquiese, that's very disgraceful to Mankind; and I think there ought to be a Law made by universal Consent, never to speak of Eclipses hereafter, lest the memory of such Folly shou'd be preserv'd to Posterity. Pray, Madam, said I, let there be another Law made, for abolishing the Memory of all things past; for I know of nothing, that is not a Monument of the Folly of Mankind. Pray, tell me, said the Marquiese; Are the Inhabitants of the Moon as much afraid of Eclipses as we are? It seems to me very ridiculous, that some of 'em shou'd run into the Water up to the Neck; that others shou'd think our Earth angry with 'em; some, that our Earth shou'd be bewitch'd, and that we are coming to spoil their Grass. Without all doubt, said I, Madam: Why shou'd the Inhabitants of the Moon have more Sense than we? And what Right have they to frighten us, more than we have to frighten them? Nay, more; I am apt to believe, that as there has been, and still are, many Inhabitants in our Globe, who are such Fools to adore the Moon; there are also Inhabitants in the Moon, foolish enough to adore our Earth. At that rate, said the Marquiese, we may very well pretend to send Influences to the Moon, and to give a Judgment on their Distempers. But since there is only requisite, a little more Wit and Ingenuity in the Inhabitants of that Country, to blast the Honour we flatter our selves with, I confess, I am still apprehensive, they may have some Advantage over us. Do not fear, said I; there is no likelihood that we are the only Fools of the Universe. Ignorance is naturally a very general Talent; and though I do but guess at that of the Inhabitants of the Moon, yet I no more doubt of it, than I do of the most certain News we have from thence.

And what, pray, are these certain News you have from thence, interrupted she? They are, said I, Madam, such as are brought us every Day by the Learned, who travel daily thither by the help of long Telescopes: They tell us, they have discover'd vast Countries, Seas, Lakes, high Mountains, and deep Valleys.

You surprize me, said the Marquiese: I know very well, that Mountains and Valleys may be discover'd in the Moon, by the remarkable Inequality we see in its Surface; But how do they distinguish Countries and Seas? Very easily, said I; because the Water permits a part of the Light to pass through it, and reflects less, and appears, at a great distance, to be obscure Spots; and that the Earth, which is solid, reflects the whole Light, and therefore must appear the brightest part of the Globe of the Moon. These different parts are all so well known, that they have given them all Names of learned Men: One place is call'd Copernicus; another, Archimedes; and a third, Galileus: There are too a Caspian-Sea, Porphory-Hills, and the Black Lake. In short, they have fram'd so exact a Description of the Moon, that a learned Man, if he were there, wou'd be in no more danger of losing his Way, than I wou'd be, if I were at Paris.

But, reply'd the Marquiese, I shou'd be very well pleas'd to have a farther Account of this Country. 'Tis impossible, reply'd I, that the nicest Observators shou'd inform you so well as Astolpho, of whom you ought to enquire; and who was conducted to the Moon by St. Iohn. What I shall tell you now, is one of the most pleasant Fooleries in all Ariosto; and I am satisfy'd, 'twill not displease you to know it. I own, I ought not to meddle with St. Iohn, whose Name is so worthy of Respect: But since there is a Poetical Licence, and Liberty of Conscience, it ought to pass as a Gayety. The whole Poem is dedicated to a great Church-man, and another great Church-man has honour'd it with a signal Approbation; which one may perceive by the several Editions. See what he treats of.

Orlando Nephew to Charlemain, became mad, because the fair Angelica had proffer'd Medora to him; one day Astolpho the brave Paladine, found himself in a terrestrial Paradise, which was on the brink of a very high Mountain whither his flying Horse had carry'd him; there he met Saint—who told him that to cure the Madness of Orlando, 'twas necessary they shou'd take a Voyage to the Moon; Astolpho who desir'd nothing more than to see that Country, wanted no intreaties, and behold on a sudden a Chariot of Fire carry'd the Saint, and the Paladine through the Air. As Astolpho was no great Philosopher, he was much surpriz'd to see the Moon so vastly bigger than it had appeared to him upon the Earth, and was much more amaz'd to see Rivers, Lakes, Mountains, Plains, Groves, Towns, and Forests, (and that which wou'd have surpriz'd me also) beautiful Nymphs that hunted in those Forests. But that which he beheld yet more rare, was a Valley where he found all things that were lost on Earth, of what kind soever, Crowns, Riches, Renown, and Grandure, Infinity of hopes, time lost in waiting and depending on promising States-men, or thrown away at Play; the Alms that one causes to be given after ones Death; The Verses and Dedications one presents to Princes and the sighs of Lovers. As for the Sighs of Lovers, reply'd the Marquiese, interrupting me, I know not whether in the time of Ariosto they were lost or not, but in ours, I know of none that go into the Moon. Were there none but you Madam reply'd I, smiling, you have caus'd so many to sigh in vain, that you have made a considerable Treasure in the Moon: in short the Moon is exact in collecting all that is lost here below, and which are all to be found there, even to the Donation of Constantine. (But Astolpho told me this only in my Ear.) Besides all the Folly that was ever committed upon the Earth is well preserv'd there; these are so many Vials full of a subtil and penetrating Liquor, which easily evaporates as soon as opened, and upon every one of these Vials is writ the name of those to whom it belongs. I believe that Ariosto put 'em all in one Cup, but I had rather fansie to my self that they were orderly plac'd in one Gallery. Astolpho was very much astonisht to see the Vials of so many Persons whom he believed to be very wise, and yet notwithstanding their Vials were so very full; and for my part, I am perswaded that mine is as full as any since I entertain you with Visions, both Philophick and poetical. That which comforts me is, that 'tis possible by what I am perswading you to believe, I shall very suddenly make you have a Vial in the Moon as well as my self. The good Paladine did not fail to find his own among the Number, and by the Permission of the Saint, he took it and snuff'd up the Spirit as if it had been the Queen of Hungary's Water: But Ariosto said he wou'd not carry it far, and that it wou'd return to the Moon again by a Folly that he committed seven Years after: But he did not forget the Vial of Orlando which was the occasion of his Voyage; he had a great deal of difficulty to carry it, for the Spirit of this Hero was in its own Nature very heavy, and did not want a drop of being full. But here Ariosto according to the laudable Custom of speaking what he pleas'd, addressing himself to his Mistriss, speaks to her thus in good Verse. "That I ought to cause one to mount the Heavens, my fair one, to make me recover the Senses your Charms have made me lose, yet I will not complain of this Loss, provided it does not go too far, but if there be a Necessity that your Cruelties must continue, as they have begun, I have no more to do but to expect just such a Fate as Orlando's; however I do not believe, that to recover my Senses 'tis requisite I go through the Air to the Moon; my Soul does not lodge so high; it wanders about your fair Eyes, and Mouth; and if you will be pleas'd to give me leave to take it, permit me to recover it with my Lips. Is not this witty for me to reason like Ariosto? I am of opinion that a Man never loses his Wits but for Love; and you see they do not travel far, while their Lips only know so well how to recover 'em. But when one loses 'em by other means (as we lose 'em by Philosophizing) they go directly to the Moon, and one cannot retrieve 'em when one pleases. In recompence of this, said the Marquiese, our Vials shall be Honourable among the Ranks of the Philosophers: For our Spirits will go on in wandring and erring on something that is worthy of 'em; but to accomplish this, and rid me of mine.

But pray tell me seriously, said the Marquiese, do you believe that there are Men in the Moon? For hitherto, you have said nothing to me positively as to that. I do not believe there are Men there, Madam, but some other odd sort of Creatures: Pray, Madam, consider but how much the Face of Nature is chang'd betwixt this and China; other Faces, other Shapes, other Manners, and almost quite different Principles of reasoning, from this to the Moon the difference ought to be more considerable. When one travels towards the new discovered World of America, &c. and finds the Inhabitants there to be hardly Men, but rather a kind of Brutes in humane shape, and that not perfect neither, so that could we travel to the Orb of the Moon, I do not think we should find Men and Women there. What kind of Creatures should we find then said the Marquiese, with a very impatient look? I swear I cannot tell, said I Madam, were it possible for us to be rational Creatures and yet not Men, and that we inhabited the Moon, cou'd it ever enter into our Imagination, that there dwelt here below so extravagant an Animal as that of Mankind? Could we fansie to our selves any living Creatures with such foolish Passions, and so wise Reflections; of so small Duration, and yet can see so vast a Prospect beyond it; of so much knowledge in Trifles, and so much Ignorance of important things; so earnest for liberty, yet so enclin'd to servitude and Slavery; so very desirous of Happiness, and yet so uncapable of attaining it; it wou'd require a great deal of Wit and Judgment in the Inhabitants of the Moon, to find the Reason and Mystery of such an odd composition; for we that see one another daily, have not as yet found out how we are made. It was said of old amongst the Heathens, that the Gods when they made Man were drunk with Nectar, whom when they had consider'd when sober, they cou'd not forbear laughing at the ridiculousness of their handy Work. We are then secure enough, said the Marquiese, that the Inhabitants of the Moon will never guess what we are; but I wish we could attain to the knowledge of them; for I must confess it makes me uneasie to think there are Inhabitants in the Moon, and yet I cannot so much as fansie what kind of Creatures they are. And why are you not as uneasie, said I, upon the account of the Inhabitants under and near the South-Pole, which is altogether unknown to us? They and we are carried as it were in the same Ship, they in the Stern, and we in the Head; and yet you see there is no communication between the Stern and the Head, and that those at the one end of the Ship do not know what kind of People they are on the other, nor what they are doing, and yet you would know what passes in the Moon, in that other great Ship sailing in the Heavens at a vast distance from us. Ah, said the Marquiese, I look upon the Inhabitants under the South-Pole, as a People known to us, because they are most certainly very like us; and that we may see them if we please to give our selves the trouble; they will continue still where they are, and cannot run away from our knowledge; but we shall never know what these Inhabitants of the Moon are; 'tis that that vexes me. If I shou'd answer you seriously, said I, that we may one day know 'em, wou'd not you laugh at me? Nay and I shou'd deserve it: Yet I cou'd defend my self very well if I shou'd say so; there is a certain ridiculous thought in my Head, which has some shadow of likelihood, which satisfies me, tho I do not know on what it is founded, it being so impertinent as it is; yet I will lay you what you will, that I will oblige you to believe against all Reason, that there may one day be a correspondence between the Earth and the Moon. Reflect a little, Madam, upon the State and Condition of America, before it was discovered by Christopher Columbus; it's Inhabitants liv'd in a most profound Ignorance, so far from the knowledge of Sciences, that they were ignorant of the most simple and useful Art: They went stark naked and cou'd not imagine that Men cou'd be cover'd by Skins of Beasts; had no other Arms but Bows, and who look upon the Sea as a vast space forbidden to mankind, joining, as they thought, to the Sky; beyond which they saw nothing. 'Tis true after having spent several years with hollowing the root of a great Tree with sharp Flints, they after ventur'd to go in this kind of Boat, which was driven along the Shore by the Winds and the Waves; but as this kind of Vessel was very subject to be over-set very often, they were necessitated to swim to catch their Boat again; and indeed, they did swim for the most part, except when they were weary. If any Body had told them there was a Navigation much more perfect than that they knew; and that by it, it was easie to cross that vast extent of Water to any side, and in what manner we pleas'd, and that it was possible to stop and lie still in the midst of the Waves, while the Vessel is in Motion; that Men cou'd move fast or slow as they pleas'd; and that the Sea, notwithstanding the vastness of its extent, was no hindrance to the commerce of distant Nations, provided that there were People on the other shoar; surely the Indians wou'd never have believ'd that Man that should have told 'em this, to them impossibility: nevertheless, the day came, that the strangest and least expected Sight that ever they saw, presented it self to their view, huge great Bodies, which seem'd to have white wings with which they flew upon the Sea belching Fire from all parts, and at last landed upon their shoar a Race of unknown Men, all crusted over with pollish'd Steel, ordering and disposing at their Pleasure the Monsters that brought 'em thither, carrying Thunder in their Hands which destroy'd all that made any resistance, while the wondring Indians cried, from whence came they? who brought them over the Seas? who has given 'em the Power of Fire and Thunder? are they Gods or the Children of the Sun? for certainly, they are not Men. I know not, Madam, whether you conceive as I do, the extraordinary surprize of these Americans, but certainly there was never any equal to it; and after that, I will not swear, but there may be one day, a commerce betwixt the Earth and the Moon: Had the Americans, any Reason to hope for a correspondence betwixt America and Europe, (which they did not know?) It is true, there will be a Necessity to cross the vast Extent of Air and Heaven that is betwixt the Earth and the Moon. But did these Americans think the Ocean more proper to be crossed, and pass'd through? Sure, said the Marquiese, you are mad; and looking earnestly on me; I do not deny it, answer'd I; nay, said she, it is not sufficient to confess it, I will prove you to be mad. The Americans were so ignorant, that the Possibility of making a way or passage through the vast Ocean, cou'd never enter into their Thoughts; but we that know so much, we easily find out that it wou'd be no hard matter to pass through the Air if we cou'd support our selves. There are those Men, said I, who have found out more than a possibility of it; for they actually begin to fly a little, and several have made and fitted wings to themselves, and invented a way to give themselves Motion, for supporting the Body in the Air, for crossing of Rivers, and flying from one steeple to another. 'Tis true, these were not flights of an Eagle; and it has cost some of these new Birds a Leg or an Arm: But this Essay is like the first Planks that were carry'd on the Water, which yet gave beginnings to shipping; and there was a very great difference between these Planks and Ships of mighty burden; yet you see that time by degrees has produc'd great Ships. The Art of flying is but in its Infancy, time must bring it to Maturity, and one day Men will be able to fly to the Moon. Do you pretend to have discover'd all things, said she, or to have brought them to that perfection that nothing can be added? Pray, Madam, said I, by consent, let us save something for the Age to come. I will never yield, said she, that Men will ever be able to fly without breaking their Necks. Well, said I, Madam, since you will needs have Men always to fly so ill, it may be the Inhabitants of the Moon will fly better, and will be fitter for that Trade; for 'tis all one, if we go to them or they to us. And we shall be like the Americans, who did not believe Navigation possible, when at the same time, sailing was so well understood on the other half of the Globe. Sure, said she, in anger, the Inhabitants of the Moon wou'd have been with us before now, if that were likely. Pardon me, said I, Madam, the Europaeans did not sail to America, till after six thousand years, all that time was requisite for performing Navigation. The Inhabitants of the Moon, it may be, at that time, knew how to make little Journeys in the Air, and are now practising; and it may be when they have more skill, we shall see 'em. And God knows what a strange Surprise 'twill be to us. This is insupportable, said the Marquiese, to banter me on thus with such frivolous Arguments. If you anger me, said I, I know what I have to say to enforce 'em, and make all good. Observe, Madam, how the World is daily more and more unfolded. The Ancients believed the torrid and the frozen Zones uninhabituable for extremity of cold or heat: And the Romans confin'd the general Map of the World to their own Empire, which carry'd as much of Grandure as Ignorance. But we know that there are Inhabitants both in these extreme hot, and extreme cold Countries; by this the World is much augmented. Then it was believed, that the Ocean cover'd all the Earth, except what was inhabited: And that there was no Antipodes; for the Ancients never heard of them: Besides they cou'd not believe Men cou'd have their Feet opposite to ours, with their Heads hanging down; and yet after all this the Antipodes are discover'd, the Map of the World is corrected, and a new half added to the World. You understand my meaning, said I, Madam; these Antipodes which have been discover'd contrary to all Expectation, ought to make us more circumspect in judging by appearances: The World, and secrets of Nature will be daily more and more discover'd; and at last we may come to know somewhat more of the Moon. Certainly, said the Marquiese, looking earnestly on me, I see you so charmed with this Opinion, that I doubt not but you believe all you say. I shou'd be very sorry to find my self so, said I; my endeavour is only to show, that chimerical Opinion may be so far defended by strength of Argument, as to amuse a Person of your Understanding and Sense, but not to perswade: Nothing but truth it self has that Influence; even without the Ornaments of all its convincing Proofs; it penetrates so naturally into the Soul, that one seems but to call it to mind; tho it be the first time that ever one heard of it. Now you ease me, said she, for your false way of arguing did confound and incommode me, but now I can go sleep soundly; so, if you please, let us retire.

The Third Night.

My Lady Marquiese wou'd needs engage me to pursue and continue our Discourse by Day-light; but I told her, 'twas more proper to reserve our Fancies and Notions till the Night; and since the Moon and Stars were the Subjects of our Conversation, to trust it only to them. We did not fail to go that Evening into the Park, which was now become a place consecrated to our Philosophical Entertainment. I have a great deal of News to tell you, said I: The Moon, which I told you last Night (by all appearance) was inhabited, now I begin to think, may be otherwise; for I have been reflecting upon a thing, which puts its Inhabitants in great danger. I shall never suffer that, said the Marquiese; for you having prepar'd me last