Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds

by M. de Fontenelle

[29] Respiration is difficult at the height of a league. Half a league higher it must be impossible.

We see then there are many things to prevent us from leaving our own world and going to the moon. To console ourselves let us guess all we can about it. In the first place I conjecture that the inhabitants must see the heavens, the sun and the stars of a very different colour from what they appear to us. We view those objects through a sort of glass which alters their appearance; this glass is our atmosphere, pervaded with exhalations. Some moderns assert that it is blue as well as the sea, but we can only distinguish the colour in the parts of those elements that are most remote from the eye. The firmament, say they, in which are the fixed stars, has no light in itself, and consequently ought to appear black,[30] but as we see it through our blue air, it seems to us to be blue. If that is true, the rays of the sun and stars cannot pass through the air without receiving a slight tinge from its colour, and losing a degree of that which is natural to them. But supposing the air is not coloured, it is certain that through a thick fog the light of a flambeau, seen at some distance, appears of a deep red, which is not its real colour; if therefore our air be considered only a mist, it must necessarily alter the colour of the sky, sun, and stars. The celestial fluid alone could give us light and colours in their original state. Therefore as the atmosphere of the moon differs from ours, it is either of a different colour, or else it is another sort of mist, which varies the appearance of the celestial bodies. In a word, the glass through which the people in the moon view these objects is of a different nature to ours.

[30] Desaussure tells us it appears black when viewed at a league's distance from the earth.

On that account, replied the Marchioness, I prefer our world to the moon; I think it impossible for the assortment of colours presented to their sight by the heavenly bodies to be so beautiful as that they form when viewed through the medium of our air. Let us suppose a red sky and green stars; the effect is not so agreeable as golden stars and a blue sky. One would think, said I, you were chusing clothes or furniture; but believe me, nature has a good taste; let us trust to her for providing a set of colours for the moon, there is no fear but it will be a pleasing one. She has undoubtedly varied the appearance of the universe at each different point of view, and in all these varieties there is great beauty.

I acknowledge her talents, answered she; at each point of view she has placed a different sort of glass, by which mean she has given the appearance of variety to objects which remain always the same. With a blue atmosphere, we have a blue sky, and perhaps with a red atmosphere, the inhabitants of the moon have a red sky; yet this sky is absolutely the same. In like manner she seems to have placed various sorts of glasses before the eyes of our imagination, through which the same object presents to each of us a different appearance. To Alexander, the earth appeared a proper place to convert into an empire, for his sway; Celadon, viewed it only as a fit residence for Astrea; a philosopher considers it a large planet, travelling through the heavens, and inhabited by a number of madmen. I think the spectacle of nature cannot be more varied than the prospects of different imaginations.

The varied appearance of objects viewed by the imagination, I replied, is the most surprising, for they are exactly the same things though apparently so dissimilar: whereas there may be other natural objects visible to the moon, and some that are visible to us may not be seen there; perhaps, for instance, there is neither dawn nor twilight. The air that surrounds us, rises to some height, receives the rays of light that would not reach the earth, and by its density, detains, and conveys to us a part of this light which was apparently not destined for us: thus you see the dawn and twilight are particular favours conferred on us by nature; they are degrees of light to which we are not regularly entitled, and which are bestowed on us in addition to our share. But the atmosphere of the moon, being purer than ours, is probably not so well calculated to reflect the rays which it receives before the sun is risen, or after it is set. The poor inhabitants have not then this light, which by its gradual increase prepares us so agreeably for the brilliancy of the sun; and in the evening reconciles us to its loss, by a progressive diminution. The moon, after the profound gloom of night, receives the ardent blaze of the sun, as if by the instantaneous drawing up of a curtain: on the contrary, whilst still enjoying the dazzling light of day, it is again plunged into extreme darkness: day and night are not connected by an agreeable medium, partaking of both. The people in the moon never see the rainbow; for as the dawn is produced by the thickness of our air and vapours, so the rainbow is formed in the clouds which are dispersed in rain; thus we are indebted for the most beautiful appearances in nature, to things, in themselves, far from agreeable. Since the moon has neither dense vapours nor rainy clouds, farewell to Aurora, and the Rainbow! Alas! to what can they liken the beauties of that country; what a source of comparison are they deprived of!

I should not much regret those comparisons, answered the Marchioness; and I think the inhabitants of the moon have ample amends made them for the loss of rainbows and twilight by being exempted from thunder and lightning; for these likewise are formed in the clouds. They have constant serenity of weather; never losing sight of the sun. They have no gloomy nights in which the stars are concealed. They are unacquainted with those storms and tempests; those elemental wars which seem to indicate the wrath of heaven. Are they then to be pitied? You speak of the moon as an enchanting spot, said I; yet I don't know whether it is very delightful to be exposed throughout a day that is as long as our fortnight[31] to a blazing sun, without a cloud to temper the intensity of its heat. It is perhaps owing to this that nature has formed cavities in the moon, large enough to be seen by our telescopes; they are not valleys situated between mountains, but hollow places in the midst of large plains. How do we know whether the inhabitants, oppressed by the perpetual radiance of the sun, may not take refuge in these caverns? Perhaps they even build towns, and constantly reside in these parts. We see that here our subterraneous Rome is larger than the Rome which is built on the surface: we have only to remove the latter, and the other would be a city such as we should find in the moon. A large number of the people dwell in each cavern, and from one cavern to another is a subterraneous passage for the communication of the inhabitants. You laugh at this idea; I have no objection: but seriously, I think you are more likely to be mistaken than I. You believe the people in the moon must dwell on the surface, because we are on the surface of our globe; you should form quite a different opinion, and think that because we reside on the surface they dwell in the interior parts; every thing must be very differently conducted here and in the moon.

[31] During this time the sun rises and sets as it does in our day.

It does not signify, replied the Marchioness; I can't bear the idea of these people living in perpetual darkness. You would find it still more difficult to admit the opinion, said I, if you knew that a great philosopher of ancient times had informed us that the moon was the dwelling of souls who had on earth rendered themselves worthy of very exalted happiness. He supposes that their felicity consists in listening to the music of the spheres; but that when the moon comes under the shadow of the earth, they are no longer able to hear this celestial harmony, at which time they utter the most piercing cries, and the moon hastens on as fast as possible to relieve them from this agonizing situation. We may expect then, answered she, to have the virtuous spirits sent here from the moon, for I suppose they likewise honour our world by making it an abode of the blessed: so in these two planets it is thought a sufficient reward to superior goodness for the soul to be transported from one world to the other. Really, I replied, it would not be a trifling enjoyment to take a survey of different worlds; I often receive a great deal of pleasure from such a journey, although but in imagination; what must it be then to perform it in reality? It would be much more delightful than going from here to Japan; in other words, than crawling from one end of the earth to the other with great labour, merely for the sake of seeing men. Well, said she, let us make this tour to the planets as we can; what should prevent us? We will place ourselves at all those different points of view, and at each of them survey the universe. Have we any thing else to see in the moon? You are not yet thoroughly acquainted with that world, I replied. You recollect that the two motions of the moon, by one of which she turns on her axis, and by the other round us, being equal, the latter always prevents the former from withdrawing any part from our sight, and consequently we always view the same side. That half therefore is the only part that can see our world, and as the moon, with regard to us, must be considered not to turn on her centre, the half to which we are visible, sees us always fixed in the same part of the sky.[32] When it is night, and the nights there are as long as our fortnight, she sees at first only a very small part of the earth enlightened; then a larger portion, and at length the light seems hourly to spread over the earth, till it becomes entirely luminous. On the contrary these changes in the moon are visible to us only from one night to another, because we are a long time without seeing her. I should like to hear the mistakes which the philosophers of that world fall into from the apparent immobility of our earth, whilst all the other heavenly bodies rise and set in the space of a fortnight. Probably they consider the earth immovable in consequence of her enormous size, being sixty times larger than the moon; and when the poets are disposed to flatter indolent princes, I have no doubt but they compare them to this orb in her state of majestic repose. It does not however appear an entire immobility. From the moon they must see the earth turn on her axis. Our Europe, Asia, America, present themselves one after another, in different shapes, nearly as they are represented on our maps. Only imagine what a novel sight this must be to travellers coming from the other side of the moon to that which is always facing us! How incredulously they must have heard the accounts of the first that spoke of it, who lived at the opposite side. It is come into my head, said the Marchioness, that from that half of the moon to the other they make pilgrimages to come and examine us, and that particular honours and privileges are destined for those who have seen the great planet. At least, answered I, they who constantly see us have the privilege of being better illumined during their nights; the inhabitants of the other side must be much less agreeably situated in that respect.

[32] That is to say only at the same distance from the zenith and the horizon.