The Sea of Nectar (V) is connected with the Sea of Tranquillity by a broad strait (one would naturally anticipate from their names that there must be some connection between them), while between it and the Sea of Fertility runs the range of the Pyrenees Mountains, twelve thousand feet high, flanked by many huge volcanic mountain-rings.
The Sea of Serenity (H), lying northeast of the Sea of Tranquillity, is about four hundred and twenty miles broad by four hundred and thirty miles long, being very nearly of the same area as our Caspian Sea. It is deeper than the Sea of Tranquillity, and a greenish hue is sometimes detected in its central parts. It deepens toward the middle. Three quarters of its shore-line are bordered by high mountains, and many isolated elevations and peaks are scattered over its surface. In looking at these dried-up seas of the moon, one is forcibly reminded of the undulating and in some places mountainous character of terrestrial sea-bottoms, as shown by soundings and the existence of small islands in the deep sea, like the Bermudas, the Azores and St. Helena. The Sea of Serenity is divided nearly through the center by a narrow, bright streak, apparently starting from the crater-mountain Menelaus (36 in the map), but really taking its rise at Tycho far in the south. This curious streak can be readily detected even with a small opera-glass. Just what it is no one is prepared to say, and so the author of the "Moon Hoax" was fairly entitled to take advantage of the romancer's license, and declare that "its edge throughout its whole length of three hundred and forty miles is an acute angle of solid quartz-crystal, brilliant as a piece of Derbyshire spar just brought from the mine, and containing scarcely a fracture or a chasm from end to end!" Along the southern shore, on either side of Menelaus, extends the high range of the Hæmus Mountains. South and southeast of the Sea of Serenity are the Sea of Vapors (L), the Central Gulf (M), and the Gulf of Heats (N). The observer will notice at full moon three or four curious dark spots in the region occupied by these flat expanses. On the north and northwest of the Sea of Serenity are the Lake of Death (D), and the Lake of Dreams (E), chiefly remarkable for their names.
The Sea of Showers (O) is a very interesting region, not only in itself, but on account of its surroundings. Its level is very much broken by low, winding ridges, and it is variegated by numerous light-streaks. At its western end it blends into the Marsh of Mists (I) and the Marsh of Putrefaction (K). On its northeast border is the celebrated Sinus Iridum, or Bay of Rainbows (P), upon which selenographers have exhausted the adjectives of admiration. The bay is semicircular in form, one hundred and thirty-five miles long and eighty-four miles broad. Its surface is dark and level. At either end a splendid cape extends into the Sea of Showers, the eastern one being called Cape Heraclides, and the western Cape Laplace. They are both crowned by high peaks. Along the whole shore of the bay runs a chain of gigantic mountains, forming the southern border of a wild and lofty plateau, called the Sinus Iridum Highlands. Of course, a telescope is required to see the details of this "most magnificent of all lunar landscapes," and yet much can be done with a good field-glass. With such an instrument I have seen the capes at the ends of the bay projecting boldly into the dark, level expanse surrounding them, and the high lights of the bordering mountains sharply contrasted with the dusky semicircle at their feet, and have been able to detect the presence of the low ridges that cross the front of the bay like shoals, separating it from the "sea" outside. Two or three days after first quarter, the shadows of the peaks about the Bay of Rainbows may be seen. The Bay of Dew (R) above the Bay of Rainbows, and the Sea of Cold (C), are the northernmost of the dark levels visible. It was in keeping with the supposed character of this region of the Moon that Riccioli named two portions of it the Land of Hoar Frost and the Land of Drought.
Extending along the eastern side of the disk is the great Ocean of Storms (Q), while between the Ocean of Storms and the middle of the moon lies the Sea of Clouds (S). Both of these are very irregular in outline, and much broken by ridges and mountains. The Sea of Humors (T), although comparatively small, is one of the most easily seen of all the lunar plains. To the naked eye it looks like a dark, oval patch on the moon. With a telescope it is seen, under favorable conditions, to possess a decided green tint. Humboldt Sea (B) and the South Sea (Z) belong principally to that part of the moon which is always turned away from the earth, and only their edges project into the visible hemisphere, although, under favorable librations, their farther borders, lined as usual with mountain-peaks, may be detected. For our purposes they possess little interest.
Let us now glance at some of the mountains and "craters." The dark oval called Grimaldi (1) can be detected by the naked eye, or at least it has been thus seen, although it requires a sharp eye; and perhaps a shade or a pair of eye-glasses of London smoke-glass, to take off the glare of the moon, should be used in looking for it.[F] It is simply a plain, containing some fourteen thousand square miles, remarkable for its dark color, and surrounded by mountains. Schickhard (7) is another similar plain, nearly as large, but not possessing the same dark tint in the interior. The huge mountains around Schickhard make a fine spectacle when the sun is rising upon them shortly before full moon.
Tycho (9) is the most famous of the crater-mountains, though not the largest. It is about fifty-four miles across and three miles deep. In its center is a peak five or six thousand feet high. Tycho is the radial point of the great light-streaks that, as I have already remarked, cause the southern half of the moon to be likened to a peeled orange. It is a tough problem in selenography to account for these streaks. They are best seen at full moon. They can not be seen at all until the sun has risen to a certain elevation above them, 25° according to Neison; but, when they once become visible, they dominate everything. They turn aside for neither mountains nor plains, but pass straight on their courses over the ruggedest regions of the moon, retaining their brilliancy undiminished, and pouring back such a flood of reflected light that they completely conceal some of the most stupendous mountain-masses across which they lie. They clearly consist of different material from that of which the most of the moon's surface is composed—a material possessing a higher reflective power. In this respect they resemble Aristarchus and other lunar craters that are remarkable for their brilliancy under a high illumination. Tycho itself, the center or hub, from which these streaks radiate like spokes, is very brilliant in the full moon. But immediately around Tycho there is a dark rim some twenty-five miles broad. Beyond this rim the surface becomes bright, and the bright region extends about ninety miles farther. Out of it spring the great rays or streaks, which vary from ten to twenty miles in width, and many of which are several hundred miles long—one, which we have already mentioned as extending across the Sea of Serenity, being upward of two thousand miles in length. It has been truly said that we have nothing like these streaks upon the earth, and so there is no analogy to go by in trying to determine their nature. It has been suggested that if the moon had been split or shattered from within by some tremendous force, and molten matter from the interior had been thrust up into the cracks thus formed, and had cooled there into broad seams of rock, possessing a higher reflective power than the surrounding surface of the moon, then the appearances presented would not be unlike what we actually see. But there are serious objections to such a view, which we have not space to discuss here. It is enough to say that the nature of these streaks is still a question awaiting solution, and here is an opportunity for an important discovery, but not one to be achieved with an opera-glass.
I may add an interesting suggestion as to the nature of these streaks made by the Rev. Mr. Grensted. He holds that the air and water of the moon were chemically, and not mechanically, absorbed in the process of oxidation which went on at the time when her surface temperature was above a red heat. Having a much larger surface in proportion to her bulk than the earth, the oxidation of the moon has, he thinks, extended much deeper than that of the earth, and her atmosphere and oceans have been exhausted in the process. Both the earth and the moon, he maintains, have metallic nuclei, and the streaks about Tycho and Copernicus, and some other lunar craters, may be dikes of pure and shining metal, which have escaped oxidation owing to the comparatively small supply of lunar oxygen. Upon this theory Aristarchus must be a metallic mountain.
Sunrise on Clavius, Tycho, Plato, etc.
Clavius (11) is one of the most impressive of all the lunar formations. There probably does not exist anywhere upon the earth so wild a scene upon a corresponding scale of grandeur. Of course, its details are far beyond the reach of the instrument we are supposed to be using, and yet, even with a field-glass, or a powerful opera-glass, some of its main features are visible. It is represented in our picture of the half-moon, being the lowest and largest of the ring-like forms seen at the inner edge of the illuminated half of the disk; the rays of the rising sun touching the summits of some of the peaks in its interior have brought them into sight as a point of light, and at the same time, reaching across the gulf within, have lighted up the higher slopes of the great mountain-wall on the farther or eastern side of the crater-valley, making it resemble a semicircle of light projecting into the blackness of the still unilluminated plains around it. I should advise every reader to take advantage of any opportunity that may be presented to him to see Clavius with a powerful telescope when the sun is either rising or setting upon it. Neison has given a spirited description of the scene, as follows: