The Romance Of The Moon

: From The Earth To The Moon

An observer endued with an infinite range of vision, and placed

in that unknown center around which the entire world revolves,

might have beheld myriads of atoms filling all space during the

chaotic epoch of the universe. Little by little, as ages went

on, a change took place; a general law of attraction manifested

itself, to which the hitherto errant atoms became obedient:

these atoms combined together chemically acc rding to their

affinities, formed themselves into molecules, and composed those

nebulous masses with which the depths of the heavens are strewed.

These masses became immediately endued with a rotary motion

around their own central point. This center, formed of

indefinite molecules, began to revolve around its own axis

during its gradual condensation; then, following the immutable

laws of mechanics, in proportion as its bulk diminished by

condensation, its rotary motion became accelerated, and these

two effects continuing, the result was the formation of one

principal star, the center of the nebulous mass.



By attentively watching, the observer would then have perceived

the other molecules of the mass, following the example of this

central star, become likewise condensed by gradually accelerated

rotation, and gravitating round it in the shape of innumerable stars.

Thus was formed the Nebulae, of which astronomers have reckoned

up nearly 5,000.



Among these 5,000 nebulae there is one which has received the

name of the Milky Way, and which contains eighteen millions of

stars, each of which has become the center of a solar world.



If the observer had then specially directed his attention to one

of the more humble and less brilliant of these stellar bodies,

a star of the fourth class, that which is arrogantly called the

Sun, all the phenomena to which the formation of the Universe is to

be ascribed would have been successively fulfilled before his eyes.

In fact, he would have perceived this sun, as yet in the gaseous

state, and composed of moving molecules, revolving round its axis

in order to accomplish its work of concentration. This motion,

faithful to the laws of mechanics, would have been accelerated

with the diminution of its volume; and a moment would have arrived

when the centrifugal force would have overpowered the centripetal,

which causes the molecules all to tend toward the center.



Another phenomenon would now have passed before the observer's

eye, and the molecules situated on the plane of the equator,

escaping like a stone from a sling of which the cord had

suddenly snapped, would have formed around the sun sundry

concentric rings resembling that of Saturn. In their turn,

again, these rings of cosmical matter, excited by a rotary

motion about the central mass, would have been broken up and

decomposed into secondary nebulosities, that is to say,

into planets. Similarly he would have observed these planets

throw off one or more rings each, which became the origin of the

secondary bodies which we call satellites.



Thus, then, advancing from atom to molecule, from molecule to

nebulous mass, from that to principal star, from star to sun,

from sun to planet, and hence to satellite, we have the whole

series of transformations undergone by the heavenly bodies

during the first days of the world.



Now, of those attendant bodies which the sun maintains in their

elliptical orbits by the great law of gravitation, some few in

turn possess satellites. Uranus has eight, Saturn eight, Jupiter

four, Neptune possibly three, and the Earth one. This last, one

of the least important of the entire solar system, we call the

Moon; and it is she whom the daring genius of the Americans

professed their intention of conquering.



The moon, by her comparative proximity, and the constantly

varying appearances produced by her several phases, has always

occupied a considerable share of the attention of the

inhabitants of the earth.



From the time of Thales of Miletus, in the fifth century B.C.,

down to that of Copernicus in the fifteenth and Tycho Brahe in

the sixteenth century A.D., observations have been from time to

time carried on with more or less correctness, until in the

present day the altitudes of the lunar mountains have been

determined with exactitude. Galileo explained the phenomena of

the lunar light produced during certain of her phases by the

existence of mountains, to which he assigned a mean altitude of

27,000 feet. After him Hevelius, an astronomer of Dantzic,

reduced the highest elevations to 15,000 feet; but the

calculations of Riccioli brought them up again to 21,000 feet.



At the close of the eighteenth century Herschel, armed with a powerful

telescope, considerably reduced the preceding measurements.

He assigned a height of 11,400 feet to the maximum elevations,

and reduced the mean of the different altitudes to little more

than 2,400 feet. But Herschel's calculations were in their turn

corrected by the observations of Halley, Nasmyth, Bianchini,

Gruithuysen, and others; but it was reserved for the labors of

Boeer and Maedler finally to solve the question. They succeeded

in measuring 1,905 different elevations, of which six exceed

15,000 feet, and twenty-two exceed 14,400 feet. The highest

summit of all towers to a height of 22,606 feet above the surface

of the lunar disc. At the same period the examination of the moon

was completed. She appeared completely riddled with craters, and

her essentially volcanic character was apparent at each observation.

By the absence of refraction in the rays of the planets occulted

by her we conclude that she is absolutely devoid of an atmosphere.

The absence of air entails the absence of water. It became,

therefore, manifest that the Selenites, to support life under

such conditions, must possess a special organization of their

own, must differ remarkably from the inhabitants of the earth.



At length, thanks to modern art, instruments of still higher

perfection searched the moon without intermission, not leaving

a single point of her surface unexplored; and notwithstanding

that her diameter measures 2,150 miles, her surface equals the

one-fifteenth part of that of our globe, and her bulk the

one-forty-ninth part of that of the terrestrial spheroid-- not

one of her secrets was able to escape the eyes of the

astronomers; and these skillful men of science carried to an

even greater degree their prodigious observations.



Thus they remarked that, during full moon, the disc appeared

scored in certain parts with white lines; and, during the

phases, with black. On prosecuting the study of these with

still greater precision, they succeeded in obtaining an exact

account of the nature of these lines. They were long and narrow

furrows sunk between parallel ridges, bordering generally upon

the edges of the craters. Their length varied between ten and 100

miles, and their width was about 1,600 yards. Astronomers called

them chasms, but they could not get any further. Whether these

chasms were the dried-up beds of ancient rivers or not they were

unable thoroughly to ascertain.



The Americans, among others, hoped one day or other to

determine this geological question. They also undertook to

examine the true nature of that system of parallel ramparts

discovered on the moon's surface by Gruithuysen, a learned

professor of Munich, who considered them to be "a system of

fortifications thrown up by the Selenitic engineers." These two

points, yet obscure, as well as others, no doubt, could not be

definitely settled except by direct communication with the moon.



Regarding the degree of intensity of its light, there was

nothing more to learn on this point. It was known that it is

300,000 times weaker than that of the sun, and that its heat has

no appreciable effect upon the thermometer. As to the

phenomenon known as the "ashy light," it is explained naturally

by the effect of the transmission of the solar rays from the

earth to the moon, which give the appearance of completeness to

the lunar disc, while it presents itself under the crescent form

during its first and last phases.



Such was the state of knowledge acquired regarding the earth's

satellite, which the Gun Club undertook to perfect in all its

aspects, cosmographic, geological, political, and moral.