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A Discovery of New Worlds/The Third Night

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4787289A Discovery of New Worlds — The Third NightAphra BehnBernard le Bovier de Fontenelle

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


Night, put me in hopes to see these People arrive one Day upon our Earth; and to day, you will not allow them a being in the Universe: You shall not impose upon me at this rate. You made me believe there were Inhabitants in the Moon; I have overcome all the Difficulties my Reason suggested to me against that Opinion, and now I am resolv'd I will believe it. You go too fast, said I, Madam; one ought to give but one half of ones Thoughts and Belief to Opinions of this nature, reserving the other half free for receiving the contrary Opinion, if there be occasion. I am not to be deluded, reply'd the Marquiese, with fair Words; let us come to the subject matter in debate: Must not we reason the same way of the Inhabitants of the Moon, as we did of your St. Denis? Not at all, Madam, answer'd I; the Moon does not so much resemble the Earth, as St. Denis does Paris. The Sun draws from the Earth, Waters, Exhalations and Vapours; which ascending into the Air, to a certain heighth, are gather'd together, and form Clouds; these Clouds, hanging in the Air, move regularly round our Globe, and over shadows sometimes one Country, sometimes another: And if it were possible for any one to see and consider the Earth at a great distance, he wou'd perceive great Changes as to the appearance of its Surface; for a great Country, cover'd with Clouds, wou'd appear to be a very obscure part of the Globe, and will become clear and enlightned as soon as these Clouds dis-appear; and one wou'd see these obscure places change their Situation, meeting together in different Figures, or disappearing all together. We shou'd see therefore the same Changes upon the Surface of the Moon, were it encompass'd with Clouds, as the Earth is; but on the contrary, all the Obscurities, or dark places, as also those parts that are enlightned, are still the same, fix'd to the same Situation, without Variation or Change; there lies the difficulty: And for this reason, the Sun draws no Vapours or Exhalation from the Globe of the Moon; and by consequence, 'tis a Body infinitely harder, and more solid than our Earth, whose subtile parts are easily separated from the rest, and mount upward, being once set in motion by the heat of the Sun: So that the Moon must needs be nothing else but a vast heap of Rocks and Marble, from which no Vapour can be exhal'd; which Vapours are so essential and natural to Waters, that 'tis impossible the one can be without the other. Who can then be the Inhabitants of those Rocks that produce nothing? Or what living Creatures can subsist in a Country without Water? How! cry'd my Lady Marquiese; Have you forgot that you assur'd me, there were Seas in the Moon, which we cou'd distinguish from hence? That's only a Conjecture, said I; and I am very sorry that these obscure places, that may be taken for Seas, are, possibly, nothing else but deep Caverns, and vast Cavities; and guessing is pardonable, at the great distance we are at from the Moon. But, said she, is that sufficient to make us reject the Inhabitants of the Moon? Not altogether, Madam, said I; nor must we absolutely declare either for 'em, or against 'em. I confess my weakness, said she; I am not capable of such Indifference, and I must be positive in my Belief; therefore let us free our selves of one Opinion; let us either preserve the Inhabitants of the Moon, or annihilate 'em for ever, never to be heard of again; but, if possible, let us preserve 'em, for I have an Inclination and a Kindness for 'em, I wou'd not willingly lose. I shall not unpeople the Moon then, Madam, said I, but for your sake shall restore to it its Inhabitants: And the truth is, that by the Appearance of the obscure and enlightned places of the Moon, which are still the same, without change, we have no reason to believe that there are any Clouds surrounding it, which might obscure sometimes one place, sometimes another; but yet that does not argue, but she may emit Vapours and Exhalations: Our Clouds which we see carry'd in the Air, are nothing but Exhalations and Vapours, which are separate in Particles, too small to be seen; which meeting with cold Airs, as they ascend, by it are condensed, and render'd visible to us, by the Re-union of their Parts; after which, they become thick and black Clouds, which float in the Air, as Stranger-Bodies, till at last they fall upon the Earth in Rain: But sometimes it falls out, that the same Vapours and Exhalations are extended, and kept from joining together, and so are imperceptible, and are only gather'd together so far as to form a kind of small Dew, so very subtile, that it cannot be seen as 'tis a-falling. It may be, in like manner, that the Vapours which proceed from the Moon (for certainly it emits Vapours;) and 'tis impossible to believe, that the Moon can be such a Body, as that all its parts shou'd be of an equal Solidity, and so equal a temper, one with the other, that they are incapable of receiving any Change, by the attracting and moving Influence of the Sun upon 'em: We know no Body of this nature, the hardest Marbles are not of this kind; and there is no Body, how hard and solid soever, but is subject to Change and Alteration, either by secret and invisible Motion in it self, or by some exterior Impulse it receives from another. It may be therefore, as I said, that Vapours which arise from the Moon are not gather'd together, as a rounded Surface, into Clouds, but fall gently upon it again in insensible Dews, and not in Rain: And 'tis sufficient to demonstrate this, to conjecture only, that the Air which environs the Moon, is as different from the Air that environs the Earth, as the Vapours of the Air from the Exhalations of the other; which is more than likely to be true; and it must follow, that Matter being otherwise dispos'd of in the Moon, than in the Earth, its effects shou'd also be different; and imports nothing, whether it be an interior Motion of the parts of the Moon, or the Production of external Causes, which furnish it with Inhabitants, and them with a sufficient Food for their Subsistence; so that, in our Imagination, we may furnish 'em with Fruits and Grain of several sorts, Waters, and what else we please; for Fruit, Grain and Water, I understand, are agreeable to the nature of the Moon, of whose Nature I know nothing; and all these proportion'd and fitted to the Necessities of the Inhabitants, of whom I know as little. That is to say, said the Marquiese, that you only know, that all is very well there, without knowing in what manner; that is a great deal of Ignorance, with a little Knowledge; but we must have patience: However, I think my self very happy, you have restor'd the Moon its Inhabitants again; and I am very much pleas'd, you have surrounded it with Air of its own; for without that, I shou'd think a Planet too naked.

These different Airs, answer'd I, hinder the Communication and Commerce of these two Planets: If flying wou'd do the business, what do I know, but we might come to perfection in that Art I discours'd of last Night. I confess, Madam, there seems but little likelihood of what I say, since the great distance between the Moon and the Earth makes the difficulty so hard to overcome, which is very considerable; but tho' it were not, and that the Earth and the Moon were plac'd near one another, yet it wou'd not be possible to pass from the Air of the Earth, to the Air of the Moon. The Water is the Air and Element of Fish, who never pass into the Air and Element of Birds; 'tis not the distance that hinders 'em, but 'tis because every one of 'em are confin'd to the Air which they breath. We find that our Air is mix'd with Vapours, that are thicker and grosser than those of the Moon; and by consequence, any Inhabitants of the Moon, who shou'd arrive upon the Confines of our World, wou'd be drown'd and suffocated as soon as they enter'd into our Air, and we shou'd see 'em fall dead upon the Earth.

Oh, but I shou'd be glad, cry'd the Marquiese, that some great Ship-wreck, occasion'd by a mighty Tempest, wou'd throw a good many of these People upon our World, that we might at leisure consider their extraordinary Shape and Figure. But, answer'd I, if they had Skill enough to sail upon the external Surface of our Air, and that from thence they shou'd catch us, like Fish, out of a Curiosity of seeing us; wou'd that please you, Madam? Why not, said she, laughing? I wou'd go of my self into their Nets, to have the satisfaction of seeing those that had caught me. Consider, said I, that you wou'd be very weak and feeble, before you come to the Surface of our Air; for we cannot breath it in all its Extent, and we can hardly live on the Tops of high Mountains; and I wonder that those who are so foolish as to believe, that Corporeal Geniuses inhabit the purest Air, do not tell us why these Geniuses visit us so seldom, and stay so short a while: I do believe, 'tis because few amongst 'em know how to dive; and that even those who are skilful in that Art, have great difficulty to penetrate the grosness of the Air which we breath. You see therefore, that Nature has set many Bars and Fences, to hinder us from going out of our World, into that of the Moon. However, for our Satisfaction, let us conjecture and guess as much as we can of that world: For Example; I fansie that the Inhabitants of the Moon must see the Heavens, the Sun, and the Stars, of a different Colour than what they appear to us. All these Objects we see through a kind of natural Perspective-Glass, which changes them to us; this Perspective-glass of ours is mix'd with Vapours and Exhalations, which do not ascend very high. Some of late pretend, that the Air of it self is blew, as well as the Water of the Sea; and that that Colour is not apparent in the one, nor the other, but at a great depth: The Heavens, say they, in which are plac'd the fixed Stars, has of it self no Light; and by consequence, ought to appear black: But we see it through our Air, which is blew; and therefore the Heavens appear of that Colour. If it be so, the Beams of the Sun and Stars cannot pass through the Air, without taking a little of its Tincture, and at the same time lose as much of their own natural Colour: But supposing the Air had no Colour of it self, 'tis certain, that a Flambeau, seen at a distance, through a thick Fog, appears of a reddish Colour, tho' that be not natural to it; so all our Air, which is nothing else but a thick Fog, must certainly alter the true natural Colour of the Heavens, Sun and Stars to us; for nothing but the pure heavenly Substance is capable to convey to us Light and Colours, in their Purity and Perfection, as they are: So that the Air of the Moon is of another nature than our Air, or is, of it self, of an indifferent Colour; or, at least, is another Fog, changing, in appearance, the Colours of the Celestial Bodies. In short, if there be Inhabitants in the Moon, they see all things chang'd, through their Perspective-glasses, which is their Air.

That makes me prefer our place of Habitation, said the Marquiese, to that of the Moon; for I cannot believe, that the mixture of the Heavenly Colours is so fine there, as it is here. Let us suppose, if you will, the Heavens of a reddish Colour, and the Stars of a greenish, the Effect wou'd not be half so agreeable as Stars of Gold, upon a deep Blue. To hear you speak, said I, one wou'd think you were fitting of Furniture for a Room, or chusing a Garniture for a Suit of Cloths: Believe me, Nature is very ingenious, therefore let us leave to her Care the finding out a Mixture of Colours agreeable to the Inhabitants of the Moon; and I assure you, 'twill be perfectly well understood; she certainly has not fail'd of changing the Scene of the Universe, according to the different Situation and Position of the Beholders, and still in a new and agreeable way. I know the Skill of Nature perfectly well, said Madam the Marquiese; and she has spar'd her self the pains of changing her Objects, as to the several Points from whence they may be seen, and has only chang'd the Perspective-glasses, through which they are seen; and has the Honour of this great Variety, without the Expence: She has bestow'd on us a blue Heaven, with a blue Air; and it may be, she has bestow'd upon the Inhabitants of the Moon, a Heaven of Scarlet, with an Air of the same Colour, and yet their Heaven and ours is one and the same: And it seems to me, that Nature has given every one of us a Perspective-glass, or Tube, through which we behold Objects in a very different manner, one from the other. Alexander the Great saw the Earth as a fine place, fit for him to form a great Empire upon: Celadon only look'd upon it, as the Dwelling-place of Astræa: A Philosopher considers it as a great Planet, all cover'd over with Fools, moving through the Heavens: And I do not see that the Object changes more from the Earth to the Moon, than it does here from one Man to another.

The Change of Sights is more surprizing to our Imagination, said I; for they are still the same Objects we see at different Views; and it may be, in the Moon they see other Objects than we see; at least, they do not see a part of those we see: Perhaps in that Country they know nothing of the Dawning of the Day, of the Twi-light before Sun-rising, and after Sun-setting; for the Beams of the Sun, at these two times, being oblique and faint, have not strength to penetrate the grosness and thickness of the Air, with which we are environ'd; but are receiv'd and intercepted by the Air, before they can fall upon the Earth, and are reflected upon us by the Air; so that Day-break and Twi-light are Favours of Nature which we enjoy by the by, or, as it were, by chance, they not having been destin'd for us; but 'tis likely that the Air of the Moon, being purer than ours, is not so proper and fit for reflecting the faint Beams of the Sun before its Rising, and after its Setting; therefore I suppose, the Inhabitants of the Moon do not enjoy the favourable light of the Aurora, or Dawning; which growing stronger and stronger, does prepare us for the glorious Appearance of the Sun at Noon; nor the Twi-light, which becoming more faint by degrees, we are insensibly accustom'd to the Absence of the Sun: So that the Inhabitants of the Moon are in profound Darkness, when on a suddain a Curtain is drawn, as it were, and their Eyes are dazl'd with the Rays of the Sun, and they enjoy a bright resplendent Light; when by a suddain motion, as quick as the former, down falls the Curtain, and instantly they are reduc'd to their former Darkness: They want those Mediums, or Interstices, which join Day and Night together (and which participates of both) which we enjoy. Besides, these People have no Rain-bow; for as the Dawning is an Effect of the thickness of our Air, so the Rain-bow is form'd upon Exhalations and Vapours, condens'd into black Clouds, which pour down Rain upon us, by divers Reflections and Refections of the Sun-beams upon these Clouds: So that we owe the Obligation of the most agreeable and pleasant Effects, to the ugliest and most dis-agreeable Causes in Nature: And since the Purity of the Air of the Moon deprives it of Clouds, Vapours and Rain, adieu to Rain-bow and Aurora: To what then can the Lovers in the Moon compare their Mistresses, without these two things?

I do much regret that loss, said the Marquiese, for in my Opinion, the Inhabitants of the Moon are fully recompens'd for the want of the Rain-bow, day-break and twi-light, since for the same Reason, they have neither Thunder nor Lightning, both which are produc'd by Clouds and Exhalations; they enjoy bright serene Days, and never lose the Sun by Day, nor the Stars by Night. They know nothing of Storms and Tempest; which seem to us the effects of the wrath of Heaven. And can you think their condition is so much to be lamented? You, said I, Madam, represent the Moon as a most charming abode. Now methinks it should not be so desirous and agreeable to have a burning Sun always over ones Head, without the interposition of any Clouds to moderate its heat: And it may be for this Reason, Nature has sunk these Caverns in the Moon, which are big enough to be seen by our Telescopes: Who knows but the Inhabitants of the Moon, retire into these Cavities, when they are incommoded with the Excessive heat of the Sun, and it may be they live no where else, but build their Towns and Villages in these hollow places? And do not we know that Rome, which is built under ground, is almost as great as the City above ground? So that if we shou'd suppose, that the City of Rome above ground shou'd be ras'd, and quite remov'd, Rome under ground wou'd then be just such a Town, as those I have imagin'd to be in the Moon. Whole Nations live in these vast Caverns; and I doubt not but there may be Passages under ground, for the communication and commerce of one People and Nation with another. You are pleas'd to laugh, Madam, at my Fancy, do so with all my Heart, I agree you shou'd; and yet you may be more mistaken than I: For you believe, that the Inhabitants of the Moon dwell upon the Surface of their Globe, as we do on that of the Earth; it is very likely that 'tis just the contrary; for there is most certain, a vast difference between their way of living and ours. No matter, said the Marquiese, I cannot resolve to suffer the Inhabitants of the Moon to live in perpetual Darkness. You wou'd be harder put to it, Madam, said I, if you knew that a great Philosopher of old, believ'd the Moon to be the abode and dwelling of the Souls who had merited Happiness by their good Life in this World; and that theit Felicity consisted in hearing the Harmony of the Spheres as they turn'd round, and that they were depriv'd of this heavenly Musick, as often as the Moon was obscur'd by the Shadow of the Earth; and that then these Souls roar'd and cry'd out as in despair, and that the Moon made haste to recover her Light again, to bring the Souls out of that Affliction. At that rate, said she, we shou'd see the bless'd Souls come from the Moon to us; for why shou'd not the Earth be to the Moon, as the Moon is to the Earth, since according to the opinion of your Philosopher, there was no other Felicity for the Souls of the blessed, than to be transported from one World to the other? Seriously, said I, Madam, 'twould be a great Pleasure and Satisfaction to see several different Worlds; and I am often glad, to make these Journeys in Imagination; what joy then it wou'd be to do it in reality; that wou'd be far better than to travel from hence to Japan, crawling as it were with difficulty from one point of this Globe to another, and still to see nothing but Men and Women over and over again. Well, said she, what hinders, but we shou'd make a Journey through the Planets as well as we can? Let us by imagination place our selves in several Positions, and situations, fit for considering the Universe. Have we no more to see in the Moon? No, said I, at least, I have shown you all I know. Going out of the Moon towards the Sun, the first Planet you meet with is Venus; and here I must again make use of my former Simile of Paris and St. Denis. Venus turns round the Sun on her own Axis, as the Moon does round the Earth; and by the means of Telescopes, we discover that Venus waxes and wanes, being sometimes altogether enlightned, and sometimes darkened according to her different Positions in respect to the Earth.

By all appearance the Moon is inhabited, why shou'd not Venus be so, as well as she? Ay, but interrupted the Marquiese by your why nots, you will people all the Planets. Do not doubt of it, Madam, answer'd I; why has not Nature sufficient to give Inhabitants to 'em all? We see that all the Planets are of the same Nature, that they are all Opaque solid Bodies, having no Light but what they receive from the Sun; which they send one to another by Reflection, and that they have all the same kind of motion; thus far equal, and after all this must we conceive that all these vast Bodies were made not to be inhabited? And that Nature has made only an exception in Favour of the Earth, he that will believe this, may, but for my part I cannot. I find you, said the Marquiese, very resolute and settled in your opinion of a sudden: A little while ago, you wou'd scarce allow the Moon to be inhabited; and seem'd to be very indifferent, whether it were so or not; whereas now, I am confident, you wou'd be very angry with any body that shou'd tell you that all the Planets were not inhabited. It is true, Madam, in the minute wherein you have surpriz'd me, had you contradicted me, as to the Inhabitants of all the Planets, I wou'd not only have defended my opinion, but have proceeded, to have given you an exact description of all the several Inhabitants of the Planets. There are certain Moments of believing things; and I never so firmly believ'd the Planets to be inhabited, as in that Moment I spoke of 'em; but now, after cooler Thoughts, I shou'd think it very strange, that the Earth shou'd be inhabited as it is; and the other Planets shou'd be so entirely desolate and desarted: For you must not think, that we see all the living Creatures that inhabit the Earth. For there are as many several species and kinds of Animals invisible, as there are visible. We see distinctly from the Elephant to the Mite; there our sight is bounded, and there are infinite numbers of living Creatures lesser than a Mite, to whom, a Mite is as big in proportion, as an Elephant is to it. The late invention of Glasses call'd Microscopes, have discover'd thousands of small living Creatures, in certain Liquors, which we cou'd never have imagin'd to have been there. And it may be the different tastes of these Liquors, proceed from these little Animals, who bite, and sting our Tongues and Palates. If you mix certain ingredients in these Liquors, (as Pepper in Water,) and expose 'em to the heat of the Sun, or let 'em putrefie, you shall see other new species or living Creatures. Several Bodies, which appear to be solid, are nothing else but Collections or little heaps of these imperceptible Animals; who find there as much room, as is requisite for them to move in. The leaf of a Tree, is a little World inhabited, by such invisible little Worms: To them this leaf seems of a vast Extent, they find Hills and Valleys upon it: And there is no more Communication between the living Creatures on the one side, and those on the other, than between us and the Antipodes. And I think there is more reason, to believe a Planet (which is so vast a Body) to be inhabited. There has been found in several sorts of very hard Stones, infinite multitudes of little Worms, lodg'd all over them in insensible varieties; and who are nourish'd upon the Substance of these Stones which they eat. Consider the vast Numbers of these little Animals, and how long a tract of Years they have liv'd upon a grain of Sand. And by this Argument, tho my Moon were nothing but a confus'd heap of Marble Rocks, I wou'd rather make it be devour'd and consum'd by its Inhabitants, than to place none at all in it.

To conclude, every thing lives, and every thing is animated; that is to say, if you comprehend the Animals, that are generally known; the living Creatures lately discover'd, and those that will be discover'd herafter, you will find that the Earth is very well Peopl'd; and that Nature has been so liberal in bestowing them, that she has not been at the pains to discover half of 'em. After this, can you believe, that Nature, who has been fruitful to Excess as to the Earth, is barren to all the rest of the Planets? My Reason is convinc'd, said the Marquiese, but my Fancy in confounded with the infinite Number of living Creatures, that are in the Planets; and my thoughts are strangely embarass'd with the variety that one must of Necessity imagine to be amongst 'em; because I know Nature does not love Repetitions; and therefore they must all be different. But how is it possible for one to represent all these to our Fancy? Our Imaginations can never comprehend this variety, said I, let us be satisfied with our Eyes, or we may easily conceive by an universal view, Nature has form'd variety in the several Worlds. All the Faces of Mankind are in general near the same Form. Yet the two great Nations of our Globe, the Europæans and Africans, seem to have been made after different Models. Nay, there is a certain resemblance and Air of the Countenance peculiar to every Family or Race of Men. Yet it is wonderful to observe how many Millions of Times, Nature has varied so simple a thing as the Face of a Man. We, the Inhabitants of the Earth, are but one little Family of the Universe, we resemble one another. The Inhabitants of another Planet, are another Family, whose Faces have another Air peculiar to themselves; by all appearance, the difference increases with the distance, for cou'd one see an Inhabitant of the Earth, and one of the Moon together, he wou'd perceive less difference between them, than between an Inhabitant of the Earth, and an Inhabitant of Saturn. Here (for Example) we have the use of the Tongue and Voice, and in another Planet, it may be, they only speak by Signs. In another the Inhabitants speaks not at all. Here our Reason is form'd and made perfect by Experience. In another Place, Experience adds little or nothing to Reason. Further off, the old know no more than the young. Here we trouble our selves more to know what's to come, than to know what's past. In another Planet, they neither afflict themselves with the one nor the other; and 'tis likely they are not the less happy for that. Some say we want a sixth Sense by which we shou'd know a great many things we are now ignorant of. It may be the Inhabitants of some other Planet have this advantage; but want some of those other five we enjoy; it may be also that there are a great many more natural Senses in other Worlds; but we are satisfi'd with the five that are fal'n to our Share, because we know no better. Our Knowledge is bounded to certain limits, which the Wit of Man cou'd never yet exceed. There is a certain point where our Ingenuity is at a stand; that which is beyond it is for some other World, where it may be some things, that are familiar to us, are altogether unknown. Our Globe enjoys the Pleasure of Love; but is destroyed in several places by the fury of War. Another Planet enjoys constant Peace, without the delights of Love, which must render their Lives very irksom. In fine, Nature has done to the several Worlds in great, as she has done to us Mortals in little; by making some happy, others miserable. Yet she has never forgot her admirable Art in varying all things, tho she has made some equal in some respects, by compensating the want of any one thing, with another of equal value.

Are you satisfi'd, said I, Madam, very gravely; have not I told you Chimeras in abundance? Truly, I find not so much difficulty to comprehend these differences of Worlds; my Imagination is working upon the Model you have given me And I am representing to my own Mind odd Characters and Customs for these Inhabitants of the other Planets. Nay more, I am forming extravagant shapes and figures for 'em: I can describe 'em to you; for I fansie I see 'em here. I leave these shapes, said I, Madam, to entertain you in Dreams this Night, to morrow, we shall know, if they have assisted you, to describe the Inhabitants of some other Planet.