About the time of the Autumnal equinox, the moon, when near her full, rises about sunset a number of nights in succession. This occasions a remarkable number of brilliant moonlight evenings; and as this is, in England, the period of harvest, the phenomenon is called the harvest moon. Its return is celebrated, particularly among the peasantry, by festive dances, and kept as a festival, called the harvest home,—an occasion often alluded to by the British poets. Thus Henry Kirke White:
"Moon of harvest, herald mild
Of plenty, rustic labor's child,
Hail, O hail! I greet thy beam,
As soft it trembles o'er the stream,
And gilds the straw-thatch'd hamlet wide,
Where innocence and peace reside;
Tis thou that glad'st with joy the rustic throng,
Promptest the tripping dance, th' exhilarating song."
To understand the reason of the harvest moon, we will, as before, consider the moon's orbit as coinciding with the ecliptic, because we may then take the ecliptic, as it is drawn on the artificial globe, to represent that orbit. We will also bear in mind, (what has been fully illustrated under the last head,) that, since the ecliptic cuts the meridian obliquely, while all the circles of diurnal revolution cut it perpendicularly, different portions of the ecliptic will cut the horizon at different angles. Thus, when the equinoxes are in the horizon, the ecliptic makes a very small angle with the horizon; whereas, when the solstitial points are in the horizon, the same angle is far greater. In the former case, a body moving eastward in the ecliptic, and being at the eastern horizon at sunset, would descend but a little way below the horizon in moving over many degrees of the ecliptic. Now, this is just the case of the moon at the time of the harvest home, about the time of the Autumnal equinox. The sun being then in Libra, and the moon, when full, being of course opposite to the sun, or in Aries; and moving eastward, in or near the ecliptic, at the rate of about thirteen degrees per day, would descend but a small distance below the horizon for five or six days in succession; that is for two or three days before, and the same number of days after, the full; and would consequently rise during all these evenings nearly at the same time, namely, a little before, or a little after, sunset, so as to afford a remarkable succession of fine moonlight evenings.
The moon turns on her axis in the same time in which she revolves around the earth. This is known by the moon's always keeping nearly the same face towards us, as is indicated by the telescope, which could not happen unless her revolution on her axis kept pace with her motion in her orbit. Take an apple, to represent the moon; stick a knittingneedle through it, in the direction of the stem, to represent the axis, in which case the two eyes of the apple will aptly represent the poles. Through the poles cut a line around the apple, dividing it into two hemispheres, and mark them, so as to be readily distinguished from each other. Now place a candle on the table, to represent the earth, and holding the apple by the knittingneedle, carry it round the candle, and you will see that, unless you make the apple turn round on the axis as you carry it about the candle, it will present different sides towards the candle; and that, in order to make it always present the same side, it will be necessary to make it revolve exactly once on its axis, while it is going round the circle,—the revolution on its axis always keeping exact pace with the motion in its orbit. The same thing will be observed, if you walk around a tree, always keeping your face towards the tree. If you have your face towards the tree when you set out, and walk round without turning, when you have reached the opposite side of the tree, your back will be towards it, and you will find that, in order to keep your face constantly towards the tree, it will be necessary to turn yourself round on your heel at the same rate as you go forward.
Since, however, the motion of the moon on its axis is uniform, while the motion in its orbit is unequal, the moon does in fact reveal to us a little sometimes of one side and sometimes of the other. Thus if, while carrying the apple round the candle, you carry it forward a little faster than the rate at which it turns on its axis, a portion of the hemisphere usually out of sight is brought into view on one side; or if the apple is moved forward slower than it is turned on its axis, a portion of the same hemisphere comes into view on the other side. These appearances are called the moon's librations in longitude. The moon has also a libration in latitude;—so called, because in one part of her revolution more of the region around one of the poles comes into view, and, in another part of the revolution, more of the region around the other pole, which gives the appearance of a tilting motion to the moon's axis. This is owing to the fact, that the moon's axis is inclined to the plane of her orbit. If, in the experiment with the apple, you hold the knittingneedle parallel to the candle, (in which case the axis will be perpendicular to the plane of revolution,) the candle will shine upon both poles during the whole circuit, and an eye situated where the candle is would constantly see both poles; but now incline the needle towards the plane of revolution, and carry it round, always keeping it parallel to itself, and you will observe that the two poles will be alternately in and out of sight.
The moon exhibits another appearance of this kind, called her diurnal libration, depending on the daily rotation of the spectator. She turns the same face towards the centre of the earth only, whereas we view her from the surface. When she is on the meridian, we view her disk nearly as though we viewed it from the centre of the earth, and hence, in this situation, it is subject to little change; but when she is near the horizon, our circle of vision takes in more of the upper limb than would be presented to a spectator at the centre of the earth. Hence, from this cause, we see a portion of one limb while the moon is rising, which is gradually lost sight of, and we see a portion of the opposite limb, as the moon declines to the west. You will remark that neither of the foregoing changes implies any actual motion in the moon, but that each arises from a change of position in the spectator. Since the succession of day and night depends on the revolution of a planet on its own axis, and it takes the moon twenty-nine and a half days to perform this revolution, so that the sun shall go from the meridian of any place and return to the same meridian again, of course the lunar day occupies this long period. So protracted an exposure to the sun's rays, especially in the equatorial regions of the moon, must occasion an excessive accumulation of heat; and so long an absence of the sun must occasion a corresponding degree of cold. A spectator on the side of the moon which is opposite to us would never see the earth, but one on the side next to us would see the earth constantly in his firmament, undergoing a gradual succession of changes, corresponding to those which the moon exhibits to the earth, but in the reverse order. Thus, when it is full moon to us, the earth, as seen from the moon, is then in conjunction with the sun, and of course presents her dark side to the moon.
Soon after this, an inhabitant of the moon would see a crescent, resembling our new moon, which would in like manner increase and go through all the changes, from new to full, and from full to new, as we see them in the moon. There are, however, in the two cases, several striking points of difference. In the first place, instead of twenty-nine and a half days, all these changes occur in one lunar day and night. During the first and last quarters, the changes would occur in the day-time; but during the second and third quarters, during the night. By this arrangement, the lunarians would enjoy the greatest possible benefit from the light afforded by the earth, since in the half of her revolution where she appears to them as full, she would be present while the sun was absent, and would afford her least light while the sun was present. In the second place, the earth would appear thirteen times as large to a spectator on the moon as the moon appears to us, and would afford nearly the same proportion of light, so that their long nights must be continually cheered by an extraordinary degree of light derived from this source; and if the full moon is hailed by our poets as "refulgent lamp of night,"[10] with how much more reason might a lunarian exult thus, in view of the splendid orb that adorns his nocturnal sky! In the third place, the earth, as viewed from any particular place on the moon, would occupy invariably the same part of the heavens. For while the rotation of the moon on her axis from west to east would appear to make the earth (as the moon does to us) revolve from east to west, the corresponding progress of the moon in her orbit would make the earth appear to revolve from west to east; and as these two motions are equal, their united effect would be to keep the moon apparently stationary in the sky. Thus, a spectator at E, Fig. 38, page 175, in the middle of the disk that is turned towards the earth, would have the earth constantly on his meridian, and at E, the conjunction of the earth and sun would occur at mid-day; but when the moon arrived at G, the same place would be on the margin of the circle of illumination, and will have the sun in the horizon; but the earth would still be on his meridian and in quadrature. In like manner, a place situated on the margin of the circle of illumination, when the moon is at E, would have the earth in the horizon; and the same place would always see the earth in the horizon, except the slight variations that would occur from the librations of the moon. In the fourth place, the earth would present to a spectator on the moon none of that uniformity of aspect which the moon presents to us, but would exhibit an appearance exceedingly diversified. The comparatively rapid rotation of the earth, repeated fifteen times during a lunar night, would present, in rapid succession, a view of our seas, oceans, continents, and mountains, all diversified by our clouds, storms, and volcanoes.