Part 6

My reason is convinced, answered the Marchioness; but my imagination is overwhelmed with such an infinite variety and number of inhabitants existing in each of the planets; for as there is no dull uniformity in nature, the difference of species must be in proportion to the number of beings--how can imagination grasp such a vast idea? Imagination, I replied, is not required to represent all this to us; we can penetrate no farther than we are assisted by our sight; we can only perceive, from a general glance, that nature has established an inconceivable diversity in her works. The human face is formed every where on the same plan, but still how great is the difference between the visages of Europeans and of Africans or Tartars: not only in separate nations do we find a distinguishing character of countenance, even among the same people every family seems formed from a distinct model. How astonishing is the power of nature in giving such variety to so simple an object! In the universe we are but as a little family whose faces resemble each other; the next planet contains another family who have a different style of countenance. Probably the variations are greater in proportion to the distance, and could we compare the inhabitants of the earth and moon, we should easily see that they were nearer neighbours than those of the earth and of Saturn. Here, for instance, our thoughts are made vocal; the people in another planet only express themselves by gestures; farther off, they may dispense with any sort of conversation. Here our reason is matured by experience; elsewhere experience may add little to the understanding; at a greater distance, children may know as much as old men. In this world we give ourselves more uneasiness about the future than the past; on another globe, the past afflicts more than the future; on a third, the people are neither distressed by one nor the other, and they perhaps are not the most unhappy. It is said that we are possibly in want of a sixth sense belonging to our nature, by means of which our knowledge would be greatly augmented. This sense is most likely in some other world, where one of our five is wanting. There may even be a very great number of natural senses, but in the distribution of them among the planets, only five have fallen to our share, and with these five we remain satisfied because we don't know of any more. Our sciences have certain limits which no human understanding has exceeded: at a particular point we stop, the rest is reserved for other worlds, where they are ignorant of many things that we know. This planet is blest with the delightful emotions of love, but at the same time desolated by the fury of war. Another enjoys perpetual tranquillity, but with this uninterrupted peace, love is unknown, and calmness degenerates into ennui. In short whatever nature has done on a small scale, for the distribution of happiness and talents among us, she has undoubtedly performed on a more extensive plan for the benefit of the universe; at once diversifying and equalizing all.

Are you satisfied, madam, said I? Have I given your imagination room to exert itself? Do you not already see the people of different planets? No, answered she, with a sigh: all you have been saying is so vague and unsatisfactory; there is nothing in it for the mind to fix on. I want something more determined; more marked. Well then, I replied, I will not conceal any particulars that I am acquainted with: I can give you some information that you will acknowledge to be undoubted, when I tell you my authorities. Prepare to listen patiently if you please, for it is a long story.

In one of the planets, I shall not at present tell you which, there is a people that are very active, laborious and skillful. Like some of our Arabs, they live by pillage, and that is their only fault. They live together in the most harmonious manner, labouring incessantly and in concert, for the common good: above all their chastity is unexampled; it is true they have no great merit in it; they are all sterile; there is no difference of sex among them. But, interrupted the Marchioness, were you not aware that the author of this marvellous story wanted to make a fool of you? How could such a nation be perpetuated? No, I replied, very coolly, they did not intend to make a fool of me; all that I have told you is fact, yet the nation is perpetuated. They have a queen whose royalty consists, not in directing the business of the state, not in leading her subjects to the field of battle, but in her surprizing fecundity, she has millions of children; in short the production of them occupies the whole of her time. She has a large palace, divided into a vast number of chambers, in each of which a cradle is prepared for a little prince, and she is confined successively in all these chambers, always surrounded by her courtiers who congratulate her on the noble privilege she enjoys exclusively of her subjects.

I see, madam, that you wish to enquire who are her lovers, or, to give them a more respectable appellation, her husbands. Some of the eastern queens have seraglios of men; she apparently does the same, but she keeps it a greater secret than they; this may arise from modesty, but it is acting with little dignity. Among these Arabs who are always in action, are found a few strangers, in person very much resembling the natives of the country, though extremely different in disposition, for they are remarkably indolent; they never stir out nor engage in any business; and were not these persons kept for the pleasure of the queen, they would hardly be suffered to remain amongst so industrious a people. If, in reality, notwithstanding the smallness of their number, they are the fathers of many thousands of children, they deserve to be excused from any other employment; and it is a striking proof that this is their only function, that as soon as the queen has brought forth her ten thousand children, the Arabs kill, without mercy, the unhappy foreigners, then become useless to the state.

Have you done? enquired the Marchioness. Thank heavens! Let us now resume a little common sense, if we can. Where have you picked up this romance? What poet is the inventor of it? I again tell you, answered I, that it is no romance. All this takes place on our globe, even under our eyes.--If I must explain the mystery, these Arabs are no other than bees.

After this I gave her the natural history of bees, of which she had before scarcely ever heard more than the name. In concluding, you see, said I, that in attributing to other planets what is daily passing here, we should be accused of telling the most extravagant falsehoods. The history of insects, in particular, is a collection of wonders. I have no doubt of it, she replied: the silk-worm alone, with which I was better acquainted than the bees, would afford abundant materials for your descriptions. A people undergoing such wonderful changes as to be totally unlike what they formerly were; at one part of their lives crawling, at another, flying: in short a thousand incredible things might be told of the character and manners of this nation.

My imagination continued the Marchioness, is beginning to work on the subject you have given me--the inhabitants of all the planets: I am conjecturing their figures; I can discern some of them very distinctly, but I don't know how to describe them to you. As to their figures, said I, I advise you to leave the formation of them to your dreams: we shall hear to-morrow what they have suggested, and whether they have been able to represent the inhabitants of any of the planets.

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FOURTH EVENING.

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PARTICULARS CONCERNING THE PLANETS VENUS, MERCURY, MARS, JUPITER AND SATURN.

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The dreams of the Marchioness did not assist her; they represented nothing that did not bear a resemblance to what we see here. I had the same complaints to make as certain people, whose paintings are always fanciful and grotesque, do at the sight of our pictures,--Pshaw, say they, these are all men; here are no objects of imagination. We therefore resolved to content ourselves with the conjectures we should be able to make concerning the inhabitants of the planets as we continued our journey: we had last night got as far as Venus. We are assured, said I, that Venus turns on her axis, but it is not ascertained in how long a time, consequently we cannot tell the length of her days. Her years lasts but about eight months, as she is not longer than that in performing her revolution round the sun. She is of the same size as the earth, therefore the earth and Venus appear equally large to each other. I am glad of that, said the Marchioness; then I hope the earth is to Venus the shepherd's star, and the parent of love, as Venus is to us. These appellations can be proper only for a pretty little, brilliant, gay looking planet. True, answered I; but do you know what makes Venus look so beautiful at a distance?--it is the effect of her being very frightful when near. With good telescopes it has been seen that she is covered with mountains, much higher than ours, sharp-pointed, and apparently very dry. This kind of surface is the best calculated to reflect the light with great brilliancy. Our earth, whose surface is very smooth, compared with that of Venus, and partly covered with water, probably looks less beautiful at a distance. So much the worse, said the Marchioness; I should like her to preside over the loves of the inhabitants of Venus; they must certainly understand what love is. Oh! undoubtedly, I replied; the people in that planet, are all Celadons and Sylvanders, and their every-day conversations are finer than the most admired in Clelia. Their climate is very favourable to the tender passion. Venus is nearer to the sun than we; and receives more light and heat: she is about two thirds the distance of the earth, from the sun.

I can see, interrupted the Marchioness, what sort of people the inhabitants are. They are much like the Moors of Granada: a little dark, sun-burnt people, scorched with the sun; full of wit and animation, always in love, always making verses, listening to music, having galas, dances and tournaments. Give me leave to tell you, madam, answered I, that you know but little of the inhabitants of Venus. Our Moors of Granada when compared with them would appear as cold and stupid as Greenlanders.

But what must the inhabitants of Mercury be? We are above twice the distance from the sun that they are. They must be almost mad with vivacity. Like most of the negroes, they are without memory; never reflecting; acting by starts and at random: in short Mercury is the bedlam of the universe. The sun appears there nine times larger than it does to us: the light they receive is so brilliant that our finest days would be but twilight in comparison of theirs; perhaps they would find them so dark as not to be able to distinguish one thing from another. The heat to which they are accustomed is so intense, that they would be almost frozen in our Africa. In all probability our iron, silver and gold would be melted in their world, and only be seen in a liquid state, as we in general have water, which in some degrees of cold becomes a solid body. The inhabitants of Mercury would not imagine that in another world those liquors, which perhaps form their rivers, are the hardest of all bodies. Their year lasts but three months. The length of their day is not known to us, because Mercury is so small and so near the sun, that it exceeds the art of all our astronomers to observe him with sufficient accuracy to determine what sort of motion he has on his centre: the inhabitants, I think, must wish it to be performed in a short time, for scorched as they are with the fierceness of the sun, the coolness of night is undoubtedly very desirable to them. The part which by rotation is deprived of the sun's light, is illumined by Venus and the earth, which must appear very large. As to the other planets, being farther off than the earth, they, seen from Mercury, appear much smaller than to us, and afford very little light to that planet.

I don't feel so much for its inhabitants on that account, replied the Marchioness, as from the inconvenience they must suffer from such excessive heat. Let us try if we can't relieve them in some way. Is it not probable they have long and plentiful showers, such as we are told fall continually for four months together, in our hot countries, at the seasons when the heat is most intense?

It may be the case, answered I; and we have another way of giving them relief. There are some parts of China which from their situation ought to be very hot, and yet, even in the month of July and August the weather is so cold that their rivers freeze. This coldness arises from the quantities of salt-petre with which the countries abound; the exhalations, drawn up in great abundance by the heat are of a cold nature. Mercury, if you please, shall be a little planet made of salt-petre, and the sun, by attracting the cooling exhalations, will thus prevent the evil it would otherwise be the cause of. However, we may rest assured that nature would not place beings where it was impossible for them to exist; and that habit, and ignorance of a better climate, render this situation agreeable: Mercury therefore may perhaps do very well without salt-petre, or abundant rains.

After Mercury, you know, we find the sun. We cannot possibly place inhabitants there: the why not fails in this case. We conclude from the earth being inhabited that other bodies of the same nature must be so too: but the sun does not resemble the earth, and the rest of the planets. He is the source of all that light which the planets only reflect to each other after they have received it from him. They make exchanges, if I may so express myself, with one another, but none of them can bestow an original light. The sun is the sole proprietor of that treasure; which he distributes freely on every side. The light, thus issuing from the centre, is reflected from every solid body it meets, and from one planet to another it proceeds in bright streams that intermix, and cross each other in a thousand directions, forming a splendid tissue of the richest materials. The grand luminary by being placed in the centre is in the most advantageous situation for animating each planet with his heat and radiance. The sun, then, is of a peculiar nature, but what that nature is, we find it difficult to imagine. Formerly it was believed to be a pure fire, but lately we have been undeceived by observing spots on the surface. As certain new planets had just before been discovered, (I shall give you an account of these planets hereafter;) which entirely engrossed the attention of the philosophers, a sort of mania for new planets seized their minds, and they immediately concluded these spots were some; that they performed a circle round the sun, and necessarily concealed some part of his light by turning their dark side towards the earth. The learned already, through these planets, complimented the different princes of Europe. Some gave them the name of one prince; some of another, and perhaps in time there would have been a great contest to know who had the best right to name these spots.

I don't like their plan, said the Marchioness. You told me, the other day, that the different parts of the moon were named after learned men; I thought that very proper: as princes monopolize the earth, it is but fair that astronomers should have the sky for their share, and not suffer princes to intrude on their domain. Allow them, however, I replied, if territory should be wanting, to consign to them some planet, or some part of the moon. As to these spots on the sun, they can make no use of them; for instead of planets, we find they are only clouds of smoke or dross arising from the sun. Sometimes these clouds are greatly accumulated, sometimes we see little of them, and at other times they totally disappear. Sometimes a number of them are combined together, then they are separated into small parts; at one time they are very dark, at another they grow pale. It appears as if the sun was some kind of liquid; many people think it is melted gold, in a continual state of ebullition, producing impurities, which the rapidity of its motion casts up from the surface; they are afterwards consumed and others produced. Only think what amazing bodies these are. Some of them are seventeen hundred times larger than the earth, for you must know, the earth is more than a million times smaller than the sun. Imagine therefore what must be the quantity of this liquid gold, or the extent of this ocean of light and fire!

Other philosophers say, and with great plausibility, that the spots, or at least the greatest part of them, are not newly produced, and then destroyed after a certain time; but large, solid, masses, of irregular forms, always subsisting; sometimes floating on the surface of the sun, sometimes partly, or entirely buried in the liquid substance, and presenting to our view different projections according to the size of the part that remains uncovered. Perhaps they may be parts of some great mass of matter which serves as aliment to the fire of the sun. However, let the sun be what it will, it does not by any means appear habitable. It is a pity; the situation would be advantageous: placed at the centre, its inhabitants would see the planets going round them in regular orbits, whilst to us their motions seem to have perplexing varieties, which are merely the effect of our not observing them from the best place; that is, the centre of their circles. What a sad thing it is: there is but one spot where the study of the celestial bodies would be extremely easy, and at that spot there is nobody to pursue the study. You forget yourself, answered the Marchioness. Were any one placed on the sun, he would neither see the planets nor the fixed stars; would not the light of the sun efface every other object? The inhabitants would doubtless think themselves the only people in existence.

I acknowledge my error, I replied: I was thinking of the situation of the sun, without considering the effect of such an excessive light: but although you have so properly corrected my mistake, yet you must allow me to tell you that you have fallen into one yourself. The inhabitants of the sun would not see any thing: they would be either incapable of enduring so immoderate a light, or, were their eyes sufficiently strong, of receiving it unless they were at some distance; therefore the sun could only be a habitation for people without sight. In short, we have abundant proofs that this luminary was not intended to be a dwelling-place; and therefore we may as well continue our planetary journey. We are now stopping at the central point which is always the lowest part in any thing that is round; and, by the way, I should tell you that in going from our world to this centre we have travelled thirty-three millions of leagues. We must now return the way we came. We pass by Mercury, Venus, the Earth and the Moon; all which we have visited. Then we arrive at Mars. I don't know that there is any thing remarkable in this planet. The days there are about half an hour longer than ours; and the years twice the length of ours, except a month and a half. Mars is four times less than the earth, and the sun appears rather smaller and less brilliant than it does to us.--In short, Mars contains nothing calculated to arrest our attention.

But what a beautiful object is Jupiter, surrounded by his four moons, or satellites! These moons are four little planets which, whilst Jupiter revolves in twelve years round the sun, constantly go round him as the moon does round the earth. But, interrupted the Marchioness, how is it that there are planets which go round other planets, no better than themselves? It seems to me that there would be much more regularity and uniformity in assigning to all the planets but one sort of orbit in which they should move round the sun.

Ah! madam, I replied, were you but acquainted with the vortices of Descartes; those vortices, so terrible in name, and so charming in the ideas they give rise to; you would not talk in this way. My wits must all go, said she, laughing. I must know what these vortices are. Make me quite mad at once: now I have dipped into philosophy I can't trouble myself about the care of my senses: spite of the world's laughter, we will talk of the vortices. I did not know you had so much enthusiasm, said I; 'tis pity it has no other object than vortices.

What we call a vortex is a quantity of matter, whose detached parts move all in the same direction, but allowed at the same time to have some little movements peculiar to themselves, provided they still pursue the general course. A vortex of wind, for instance, is a vast number of little particles of air, turning all together in a circular direction, and involving whatever comes in their way. The planets you know are borne along by the celestial fluid, which is prodigiously subtle and active. All the celestial matter, from the sun to the fixed stars, constantly turns round, carries the planets along with it, and makes them proceed round the sun in the same direction, but in longer or shorter periods, according to their distance from the centre. Even the sun is made to turn on his axis by being exactly in the midst of this moving matter; you will therefore observe, that if the earth were in the central situation she could not be exempted from this rotation.

Such is the great vortex of which the sun is master; but the planets, at the same time, form little vortices in imitation of the sun. Each of them whilst turning round the sun, turns likewise on itself, and carries in its motion a certain portion of the celestial matter, which is ready to receive any impulse that would not prevent it from following the general course: this is a vortex of any particular planet, and it extends as far as the motion of this planet has any influence. If a smaller planet comes within the vortex of a larger one, it is irresistibly carried round that larger one, and altogether, the large, and the small planet, and the vortex that encloses them, perform their revolution round the sun. Thus at the commencement of creation we obliged the moon to follow us because she came within the influence of our vortex, and was by that mean subjugated to our will. Jupiter, the planet we were speaking of, was more fortunate, or more powerful than the earth. Four little planets were in his neighbourhood, and he became master of them all; and we, who are a planet of some importance, would probably have felt his power if we had been near him. He is a thousand times larger than the earth; and would easily have drawn us into his vortex, and made us one of his moons; instead of this we have a planet to attend on us: so true is it that the situation into which we are thrown decides the fate of our lives.

And how do we know, answered the Marchioness, that we shall always remain where we are? I begin to tremble lest we should be foolish enough to approach such an enterprizing planet as Jupiter, or that he should come to us, for the sake of drawing us into his vortex; for I can't help thinking, from your description of the agitated state of this celestial fluid, that it must move the planets irregularly, sometimes urging them nearer together, sometimes sending them to a greater distance. We may as well expect to gain as to lose by such an eccentric motion, said I; perhaps we may make a conquest of Mercury or Mars, which are smaller planets, and incapable of resisting us. However we have no occasion for either hope or fear; the planets will remain in their places; and, like the former kings of China, they are forbidden to aim at conquest. You have observed that when oil is mixed with water, the oil swims at the top. Put any substance that is extremely light on both these, and the oil will support it, so that it shall not touch the water: but put a heavier body, of a certain weight, it will pass through the oil, which is too weak to stop it, and keep falling till it meets the water, which has sufficient force to bear it up. Thus two liquors put together, being of unequal weight, will not mix, but place themselves in different situations; and neither will one rise, nor the other descend: pour on these other liquors which are of a nature to remain separate, and the same effect is still produced. In like manner the celestial matter which fills this grand vortex, is in separate strata, encircling each other, and of unequal weight, like oil and water, and some other liquors. Some planets likewise are heavier than others, each therefore stops in the layer which has the degree of force necessary for supporting it, and keeping it in a state of equilibrium; and you must be convinced that it can never go beyond this stratum.

I understand, replied the Marchioness, that the different degrees of weight are sufficient to keep them in their proper ranks. I wish with all my heart there was some such regulating power among us, that would serve to fix people in the situation most suitable to them! You have quite removed my uneasiness with regard to Jupiter. I am very glad he will let us remain quietly with our little vortex, and single moon. I feel very well contented with one attendant, and do not envy him his four.

You would do wrong if you did, said I; he has no more than are necessary. He is five times farther from the sun than we, that is, a hundred and sixty-five millions of leagues distant from it, consequently his moons receive, and reflect, but a feeble light: the number therefore compensates for the little effect produced by each: were they not separately so inefficient, four moons would appear unnecessary, as Jupiter turns on his axis in ten hours, and of course the nights are very short. The satellite which is the nearest to Jupiter, performs its circle round him in two-and-forty hours; the next in three days and a half; the third, in seven; the fourth, in seventeen; and by the inequality of their progress, they form a most pleasing spectacle for this planet. At one time they rise all four together; then, almost immediately separate; sometimes they are all at the full, placed in a line, one above another; afterwards they are seen at equal distances in the sky; then when two are rising the other two will set. Above all I should like to see the perpetual variety of eclipses among them, for there is not a day passes in which they do not eclipse each other, or the sun. Surely as eclipses are so familiar to the inhabitants of that world, they must be considered a subject of amusement, rather than terror, as they are here.