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As a natural proceeding, we find that the moon has influence when the child is weaned. Caledonian mothers very carefully observe the lunar phases on this account. Jamieson tells us that "this superstition, with respect to the fatal influence of a waning moon, seems to have been general in Scotland. In Angus, it is believed, that, if a child be put from the breast during the waning of the moon, it will decay all the time that the moon continues to wane." [367] So in the heart of Europe, "the Lithuanian precept to wean boys at a waxing, but girls on a waning moon, no doubt to make the boys sturdy and the girls slim and delicate, is a fair match for the Orkney Islanders' objection to marrying except with a growing moon, while some even wish for a flowing tide." [368] As to marriage, the ancient Greeks considered the day of the full moon the most propitious period for that ceremony. In Euripides, Clytemnestra having asked Agamemnon when he intended to give Iphigenia in marriage to Achilles, he replies, "When the full moon comes forth with good luck." In Pindar, too, this season is preferred. [369]
Lunar influences over physical health and disease must be a fearful contemplation to those who are of a superstitious turn. There is no malady within the whole realm of pathology which the moon's destroying angel cannot inflict; and from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot the entire man is at the mercy of her beams. We have all seen those disgusting woodcuts to which the following just condemnation refers: "The moon's influence on parts of the human body, as given in some old-fashioned almanacs, is an entire fallacy; it is most untrue and absurd, often indecent, and is a discredit to the age we live in." [370] Most of these inartistic productions are framed upon the assumption of the old alchymists that the physiological functions were regulated by planetary influence. The sun controlled the heart, the moon the brain, Jupiter the lungs, Saturn the spleen, Mars the liver, Venus the kidneys, and Mercury the reproductive powers. But even with this distribution among the heavenly bodies the moon was allowed plenipotentiary sway. As in mythology it is the god or goddess of water, so in astrology it is the embodiment of moisture, and therefore rules the humours which circulate throughout the human system. No wonder that phlebotomy prevailed so long as the reign of the moon endured. "This lunar planet," says La Martiniere, "is damp of itself, but, by the radiation of the sun, is of various temperaments, as follows: in its first quadrant it is warm and damp, at which time it is good to let the blood of sanguine persons; in its second it is warm and dry, at which time it is good to bleed the choleric; in its third quadrant it is cold and moist, and phlegmatic people may be bled; and in its fourth it is cold and dry, at which time it is well to bleed the melancholic." Whatever the moon's phase may be, let blood be shed! We are reminded here of that sanguifluous theology, which even Christians of a certain temperament seem to enjoy, while they sing of fountains filled with blood: as though a God of love could take delight in the effusion of precious life. La Martiniere continues, and physicians will make a note of his words: "It is a thing quite necessary to those who meddle with medicine to understand the movement of this planet, in order to discern the causes of sickness. And as the moon is often in conjunction with Saturn, many attribute to it apoplexy, paralysis, epilepsy, jaundice, hydropsy, lethargy, catapory, catalepsy, colds, convulsions, trembling of the limbs, etc., etc. I have noticed that this planet has such enormous power over living creatures, that children born at the first quarter of the declining moon are more subject to illness, so that children born when there is no moon, if they live, are weak, delicate, and sickly, or are of little mind or idiots. Those who are born under the house of the moon which is Cancer, are of a phlegmatic disposition." [371]
That the ancient Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans believed in the deleterious influence of the moon on the health of man, is very evident. The Talmud refers the words, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death" (Ps. xxiii. 4) "to him who sleeps in the shadow of the moon." [372] Another Psalm (cxxi. 6) reads, literally, "By day the sun shall not smite thee, and the moon in the night." In the Greek Testament we find further proof of this belief. Among those who thronged the Great Teacher (Matt. iv. 24) were the seleniaxomenoi (lunatici, Beza; i lunatici, Diodati; les lunatiques, French version; "those who were lunatick"). The Revised Version of 1881 reads "epileptic," but that is a comment, not a translation. So again (Matt. xvii. 15) we read of a boy who was "lunatick"—seleniaxetai. On which Archbishop Trench remarks, "Of course the word originally, like mania (from mene) and lunaticus, arose from the widespread belief of the evil influence of the moon on the human frame." [373] Jerome attributes all this superstition to daemons, of which men were the dupes. "The lunatics," he says, "were not really smitten by the moon, but were believed to be so, through the subtlety of the daemons, who by observing the seasons of the moon sought to bring an evil report against the creature, that it might redound to the blasphemy of the Creator." [374] Demons or no demons, faith in moonstroke is clear enough. Pliny was of opinion that the moon induced drowsiness and stupor in those who slept under her beams. Galen, in the second century, taught that those who were born when the moon was falciform, or sickle-shaped, were weak and short-lived, while those born during the full moon were vigorous and of long life. He also took notice of the lunar influence in epilepsy [375] of which fearful malady a modern physician writes, "This disease has been known from the earliest antiquity, and is remarkable as being that malady which, even beyond insanity, was made the foundation of the doctrine of possession by evil spirits, alike in the Jewish, Grecian, and Roman philosophy." [376] The terrible disorder was a fact; and evil spirits or the moon had to bear the blame.
In modern times the moon is no less the deity of insalutary disaster. Of Mexico, Brinton says: "Very different is another aspect of the moon-goddess, and well might the Mexicans paint her with two colours. The beneficent dispenser of harvests and offspring, she nevertheless has a portentous and terrific phase. She is also the goddess of the night, the dampness, and the cold; she engenders the miasmatic poisons that rack our bones; she conceals in her mantle the foe who takes us unawares; she rules those vague shapes which fright us in the dim light; the causeless sounds of night or its more oppressive silence are familiar to her; she it is who sends dreams wherein gods and devils have their sport with man, and slumber, the twin brother of the grave." [377] So farther south, "the Brazilian mother carefully shielded her infant from the lunar rays, believing that they would produce sickness; the hunting tribes of our own country will not sleep in its light, nor leave their game exposed to its action. We ourselves have not outgrown such words as lunatic, moon-struck, and the like. Where did we get these ideas? The philosophical historian of medicine, Kurt Sprengel, traces them to the primitive and popular medical theories of ancient Egypt, in accordance with which all maladies were the effects of the anger of the goddess Isis, the moisture, the moon." [378] Perhaps Dr. Brinton's own Mexican myth is a better elucidation of this origin of nocturnal evil than that which traces it to Egypt. According to an ancient tradition in Mexico, "it is said that in the absence of the sun all mankind lingered in darkness. Nothing but a human sacrifice could hasten his arrival. Then Metzli, the moon, led forth one Nanahuatl, the leprous, and building a pyre, the victim threw himself in its midst. Straightway Metzli followed his example, and as she disappeared in the bright flames, the sun rose over the horizon. Is not this a reference to the kindling rays of the aurora, in which the dark and baleful night is sacrificed, and in whose light the moon presently fades away, and the sun comes forth?" [379] We venture to think that it is, and that it is nearest to a natural explanation of purely natural effects.
Coming next to Britain, we find that "no prejudice has been more firmly rivetted than the influence of the moon over the human frame, originating perhaps in some superstition more ancient than recorded by the earliest history. The frequent intercourse of Scotland with the north may have conspired to disseminate or renew the veneration of a luminary so highly venerated there, in counteracting the more southern ecclesiastical ordinances." [380] Forbes Leslie surely goes too far, and mixes matters up too much, when he writes: "An ancient belief, adhered to by the ignorant after being denounced and apparently disproved by the learned, is now admitted to be a fact; viz. the influence of the moon in certain diseases. This, from various circumstances, is more apparent in some of the Asiatic countries, and may have given rise to the custom which extended into Britain, of exposing sick children on the housetops." [381] We know that the solar rays, from the time of Hippocrates, the reputed "father of medicine," were believed by the Greeks to prolong life; and that the Romans built terraces on the tops of their houses called solaria, where they enjoyed their solar baths. "Levato sole levatur morbus," was one of their medical axioms. But who ever heard of the lunar rays as beneficial? If sick children were exposed on the housetops, it must have been in the daytime; and, unless it were intended as an alterative, it is difficult to see what connection this had with the belief that disease was the product of the lunar beam. Besides, is the moon's influence in disease an admitted fact? The "certain diseases" should be specified, and their lunar origin sustained.
The following strange superstition is singularly like that interpolated legend in the Gospel of John, about the angel troubling the pool of Bethesda. In this case the medicinal virtue seems to come with the change of the moon. But in both cases supernatural agency is equally mythical. "A cave in the neighbourhood of Dunskey ought also to be mentioned, on account of the great veneration in which it is held by the people. At the change of the moon (which is still considered with superstitious reverence), it is usual to bring, even from a great distance, infirm persons, and particularly ricketty children, whom they often suppose bewitched, to bathe in a stream which pours from the hill, and then dry them in the cave." [382]
Those who are in danger of apoplexy, or other cerebral disease, through indulgence too freely in various liquids, vinous and spirituous, should cherish Bacon's sapient deliverance: "It is like that the brain of man waxeth moister and fuller upon the full of the moon; and therefore it were good for those that have moist brains, and are great drinkers, to take sume of lignum aloes, rosemary, frankincense, etc., about the full of the moon. It is like, also, that the humours in men's bodies increase and decrease as the moon doth; and therefore it were good to purge some day or two after the full; for that then the humours will not replenish so soon again." [383] All this sounds so unphilosophical that it is almost incredible that the learned Bacon believed what he wrote. Darker superstitions, however, still linger in our land. "In Staffordshire, it is commonly said, if you want to cure chin-cough, take out the child and let it look at the new moon; lift up its clothes and rub your right hand up and down its stomach, and repeat the following lines (looking steadfastly at the moon, and rubbing at the same time):—
'What I see, may it increase; What I feel, may it decrease;
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.'" [384] There is a little ambiguity here. What is felt is the child's stomach. But the desire is not that that may decrease, but only the whooping cough, which is felt, we take it, by proxy. A lady, writing of the southern county of Sussex, says: "A superstition lingering amongst us, worthy of the days of paganism, is that the new May moon, aided by certain charms, has the power of curing scrofulous complaints." [385]
As the cutting of hair, finger-nails, and corns has some relation to health and comfort, we may here mention that in Devonshire it is said that hair and nails should always be cut in the waning of the moon, thereby beneficial consequences will result. If corns are cut after the full moon, some say that they will gradually disappear. In the British Apollo we have the following request for advice:
"Pray tell your querist if he may Rely on what the vulgar say, That when the moon's in her increase, If corns be cut they'll grow apace But if you always do take care After the full your corns to pare, They do insensibly decay And will in time wear quite away. If this be true, pray let me know, And give the reason why 'tis so." [386]
The following passage is worth quoting, without any abbreviation, as an excellent summary of wisdom and sense regarding the moon's influence on health: "There is much reason for regarding the moon as a source of evil, yet not that she herself is so, but only the circumstances which attend her. With us it happens that a bright moonlight night is always a cold one. The absence of cloud allows the earth to radiate its heat into space, and the air gradually cools, until the moisture it contained is precipitated in the form of dew, and lies like a thick blanket on the ground to prevent a further cooling. When the quantity of moisture in the air is small, the refrigerating process continues until frost is produced, and many a moonlight night in spring destroys half or even the whole of the fruit of a new season. Moonlight, therefore, frequently involves the idea of frigidity. With us, whose climate is comparatively cold, the change from the burning, blasting, or blighting heat of day, or sun-up, to the cold of a clear night, or sun-down, is not very great, but within the tropics the change is enormous. To such sudden vicissitudes in temperature, an Indian doctor, in whom I have great confidence, attributes fevers and agues. As it is clear that those persons only, whose business or pleasure obliges them to be out on cloudless nights, suffer from the severe cold produced by the rapid radiation into space of the heat of their own bodies and that of the earth, those who remain at home are not likely to suffer from the effects of the sudden and continued chill. Still further, it is clear that people in general will not care to go out during the darkness of a moonless night, unless obliged to do so. Consequently few persons have experience of the deleterious influence of starlight nights. But when a bright moon and a hot, close house induce the people to turn out and enjoy the coldness and clearness of night, it is very probable that refrigeration may be followed by severe bodily disease. Amongst such a people, the moon would rather be anathematised than adored. One may enjoy half an hour, or perhaps an hour, of moonlight, and yet be blighted or otherwise injured by a whole night of it." [387] In Denmark a superstition is current concerning the noxious influences of night. The Danes have a kind of elves which they call the "Moon Folk." "The man is like an old man with a low-crowned hat upon his head; the woman is very beautiful in front, but behind she is hollow, like a dough-trough, and she has a sort of harp on which she plays, and lures young men with it, and then kills them. The man is also an evil being, for if any one comes near him he opens his mouth and breathes upon them, and his breath causes sickness. It is easy to see what this tradition means: it is the damp marsh wind, laden with foul and dangerous odours; and the woman's harp is the wind playing across the marsh rushes at nightfall." [388] It is the Queen of the Fairies in the Midsummer-Night's Dream who says to the Fairy King,—
These are the forgeries of jealousy And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead, By paved fountain, or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. No night is now with hymn or carol blest: Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound And this same progeny of evils comes From our debate, from our dissension We are their parents and original.
It will be thought rashly iconoclastic if we cast the least doubt upon the idea that blindness is caused directly by the light of the moon. So many cases have been adduced that it is considered a settled point. We, however, dare to dispute some of the evidence. For instance "A poor man born in the village Rowdil, commonly called St. Clement's, blind, lost his sight at every change of the moon, which obliged him to keep his bed for a day or two, and then he recovered his sight." [389] If logic would enable us to prove a negative to this statement, we would meet it with simple denial. But we have no hesitation in saying that an investigation into this case would have exonerated the moon of any share in the affliction, and have revealed some other and likely cause. Our chief objection to this story is its element of periodicity; and we would require overwhelming testimony to establish even the probability of such a miracle once a month. That permanent injury may accrue to those whose sleeping eyes are exposed all night to the brightness of a full moon is probable enough. But this would take place not because the moon's beams were peculiarly baneful, but because any strong light would have a hurtful effect upon the eyes when fixed for hours in the condition of sleep.
We can quite believe that in a dry atmosphere like that of Egypt, where ophthalmia is very prevalent on account of constant irritation from the fine sand in the air, the eye, weary with the heat and aridity of the day, would be impaired if uncovered in the air to the rays of the moon. Carne's statements are consequently quite credible. He tells us: "The effect of the moonlight on the eyes in this country is singularly injurious; the natives tell you, as I found they also afterwards did in Arabia, always to cover your eyes when you sleep in the open air. The moon here really strikes and affects the sight, when you sleep exposed to it, much more than the sun; indeed, the sight of a person who should sleep with his face exposed at night, would soon be utterly impaired or destroyed." [390] For the same reason, that strong light oppresses the slumbering eye, "the seaman in his hammock takes care not to face the full moon, lest he be struck with blindness." [391] Nor can we regard the following as "an extraordinary effect of moonlight upon the human subject." In 1863, "a boy, thirteen years of age, residing near Peckham Rye, was expelled his home by his mother for disobedience. He ran away to a cornfield close by, and, on lying down in the open air, fell asleep. He slept throughout the night, which was a moonlight one. Some labourers on their way to work, next morning, seeing the boy apparently asleep, aroused him; the lad opened his eyes, but declared he could not see. He was conveyed home, and medical advice was obtained; the surgeon affirmed that the total loss of sight resulted from sleeping in the moonlight." [392] This was sad enough; but it was antecedently probable. No doubt a boy of thirteen who for disobedience was cast out of home in such a place as London had a hard lot, and went supperless to his open bed. His optic nerves were young and sensitive, and the protracted light so paralysed them that the morning found them closed "in endless night." This was a purely natural result: to admitting it, reason opposes no demur. But we must object, for truth's sake, to the tendency to account for natural consequences by assigning supernatural causes. The moon is no divinity; moonlight is no Divine emanation, with a vindictive animus; and those who countenance such silly superstition as that moonstroke is a mysterious, evil agency, are contributing to a polytheism which leads to atheism: for many gods logically means no GOD at all.
Another branch of this umbrageous if not fructuous tree of lunar superstition is the moon's influence on human fortune. Butler satirizes the visionary who—
"With the moon was more familiar Than e'er was almanac well-willer (compiler); Her secrets understood so clear That some believed he had been there; Knew when she was in fittest mood For cutting corns, or letting blood: Whether the wane be, or increase, Best to set garlick, or sow pease: Who first found out the man i' th' moon, That to the ancients was unknown."—Hudibras.
A Swiss theologian amusingly describes the superstitious person who reads his fortune in the stars. He, it is said, "will be more afraid of the constellation fires than the flames of his next neighbour's house. He will not open a vein till he has asked leave of the planets. He will not commit his seed to the earth when the soil, but when the moon, requires it. He will have his hair cut when the moon is either in Leo, that his locks may stare like the lion's shag, or in Aries, that they may curl like a ram's horn. Whatever he would have to grow, he sets about when she is in her increase; but for what he would have made less, he chuses her wane. When the moon is in Taurus, he never can be persuaded to take physic, lest that animal which chews its cud should make him cast it up again. He will avoid the sea whenever Mars is in the midst of heaven, lest that warrior-god should stir up pirates against him. In Taurus he will plant his trees, that this sign, which the astrologers are pleased to call fixed, may fasten them deep in the earth. If at any time he has a mind to be admitted into the presence of a prince, he will wait till the moon is in conjunction with the sun; for 'tis then the society of an inferior with a superior is salutary and successful." [393]
The new moon is considered pre-eminently auspicious for commencements,—for all kinds of building up, and beginning de novo. Houses are to be erected and moved into; marriages are to be concluded, money counted, hair and nails cut, healing herbs and pure dew gathered, all at the new moon. Money counted at that period will be increased. The full moon is the time for pulling down, and thinking of the end of all things. Cut your timber, mow your grass, make your hay, not while the sun shines, but while the moon wanes; also stuff your feather-bed then, and so kill the newly plucked feathers completely, and bring them to rest. Wash your linen, too, by the waning moon, that the dirt may disappear with the dwindling light. [394] According to one old notion it was deemed unlucky to assume a new dress when the moon was in her decline. So says the Earl of Northampton: "They forbidde us when the moone is in a fixed signe, to put on a newe garment. Why so? Because it is lyke that it wyll be too longe in wearing, a small fault about this towne, where garments seldome last till they be payd for. But thyr meaning is, that the garment shall continue long, not in respect of any strength or goodness in the stuffe, but by the durance or disease of him that hath neyther leysure nor liberty to weare it." [395] It is well known that the ancient Hebrews held the new moon in religious reverence. The trumpets were blown, solemn sacrifices were offered and festivals held; and the first clay of the lunar month was always holy. In a Talmudic compilation, to which Dr. Farrar has contributed a preface, we find an interesting account of the Blessing the new moon. "It is a very pious act to bless the moon at the close of the Sabbath, when one is dressed in his best attire and perfumed. If the blessing is to be performed on the evening of an ordinary week-day, the best dress is to be worn. According to the Kabbalists the blessings upon the moon are not to be said till seven full days after her birth, but, according to later authorities, this may be done after three days. The reason for not performing this monthly service under a roof, but in the open air, is because it is considered as the reception of the presence of the Shekinah, and it would not be respectful so to do anywhere but in the open air. It depends very much upon circumstances when and where the new moon is to be consecrated, and also upon one's own predisposition, for authorities differ. We will close these remarks with the conclusion of the Kitzur Sh'lu on the subject, which, at p. 72, col. 2, runs thus:
"When about to sanctify the new moon, one should straighten his feet (as at the Shemonah-esreh) and give one glance at the moon before he begins to repeat the ritual blessing, and having commenced it he should not look at her at all. Thus should he begin —'In the united name of the Holy and Blessed One' and His Shekinah, through that Hidden and Consecrated One! and in the name of all Israel!' Then he is to proceed with the 'Form of Prayer for the New Moon,' word for word, with out haste, but with solemn deliberation, and when he repeats—
'Blessed is thy Former, Blessed is thy Maker, Blessed is thy Possessor, Blessed is thy Creator,'
he is to meditate on the initials of the four Divine epithets, which form 'Jacob'; for the moon, which is called 'the lesser light,' is his emblem or symbol, and he is also called 'little' (see Amos vii. 2). This he is to repeat three times. He is to skip three times while repeating thrice the following sentence, and after repeating three times forwards and backwards: thus (forwards)—'Fear and dread shall fall upon them by the greatness of thine arm; they shall be as still as a stone'; thus (backwards)—'Still as a stone may they be; by the greatness of thine arm may fear and dread fall on them'; he then is to say to his neighbour three times, 'Peace be unto you,' and the neighbour is to respond three times, 'Unto you be peace.' Then he is to say three times (very loudly), 'David, the King of Israel, liveth and existeth!' and finally, he is to say three times, 'May a good omen and good luck be upon us and upon all Israel! Amen!'" [396a]
That the ancient Germans held the moon in similar regard we know from Caesar, who, having inquired why Ariovistus did not come to an engagement, discovered this to be the reason: "that among the Germans it was the custom for their matrons to pronounce from lots and divination, whether it were expedient that the battle should be engaged in or not; that they had said, 'that it was not the will of heaven that the Germans should conquer, if they engaged in battle before the new moon.'" [396b]
Halliwell has reproduced an illustration of British superstition of the same sort. "A very singular divination practised at the period of the harvest moon is thus described in an old chap-book. When you go to bed, place under your pillow a prayer-book open at the part of the matrimonial service 'with this ring I thee wed'; place on it a key, a ring, a flower, and a sprig of willow, a small heart-cake, a crust of bread, and the following cards:—the ten of clubs, nine of hearts, ace of spades, and the ace of diamonds. Wrap all these in a thin handkerchief of gauze or muslin, and on getting into bed, cross your hands, and say:—
'Luna, every woman's friend, To me thy goodness condescend Let me this night in vision see Emblems of my destiny.'
If you dream of storms, trouble will betide you; if the storm ends in a fine calm, so will your fate; if of a ring or the ace of diamonds, marriage; bread, an industrious life; cake, a prosperous life; flowers, joy; willow, treachery in love; spades, death; diamonds, money; clubs, a foreign land; hearts, illegitimate children; keys, that you will rise to great trust and power, and never know want; birds, that you will have many children; and geese, that you will marry more than once." [397] Such ridiculous absurdities would be rejected as apocryphal if young ladies were not still in the habit of placing bits of wedding cake under their pillows in the hope that their dreaming eyes may be enchanted with blissful visions of their future lords.
Hone tells us that in Berkshire, "at the first appearance of a new moon, maidens go into the fields, and, while they look at it, say:—
'New moon, new moon, I hail thee! By all the virtue in thy body. Grant this night that I may see He who my true love is to be.'
Then they return home, firmly believing that before morning their future husbands will appear to them in their dreams." [398]
In Devonshire also "it is customary for young people, as soon as they see the first new moon after midsummer, to go to a stile, turn their back to it, and say:—
'All hail, new moon, all hail to thee! I prithe, good moon, reveal to me This night who shall my true love be Who is he, and what he wears, And what he does all months and years.'" [399]
Aubrey says the same of the Scotch of his day, and the custom is not yet extinct. "In Scotland (especially among the Highlanders) the women doe make a curtsey to the new moon; I have known one in England doe it, and our English woemen in the country doe retain (some of them) a touch of this gentilisme still, e.g.:—
'All haile to thee, moon, all haile to thee I prithe, good moon, declare to me, This night, who my husband must be.'
This they doe sitting astride on a gate or stile the first evening the new moon appears. In Herefordshire, etc., the vulgar people at the prime of the moon say, ''Tis a fine moon, God bless her.'" [400] "In Ireland, at the new moon, it is not an uncommon practice for people to point with a knife, and after invoking the Holy Trinity, to say:—
'New moon, true morrow, be true now to me, That I ere the morrow my true love may see.'
The knife is then placed under the pillow, and silence strictly observed, lest the charm should be broken." [401]
Dr. Charles Mackay quotes from Mother Bridget's Dream and Omen Book the following prescription for ascertaining the events of futurity. "First new moon of the year. On the first new moon in the year take a pint of clear spring water, and infuse into it the white of an egg laid by a white hen, a glass of white wine, three almonds peeled white, and a tablespoonful of white rose-water. Drink this on going to bed, not making more nor less than three draughts of it; repeating the following verses three several times in a clear distinct voice, but not so loud as to be overheard by anybody:—
'If I dream of water pure Before the coming morn, 'Tis a sign I shall be poor, And unto wealth not born. If I dream of tasting beer, Middling, then, will be my cheer— Chequered with the good and bad, Sometimes joyful, sometimes sad; But should I dream of drinking wine, Wealth and pleasure will be mine. The stronger the drink, the better the cheer— Dreams of my destiny, appear, appear!'" [402]
The day of the week on which the moon is new or full, is a question that awakens the most anxious concern. In the north of Italy Wednesday is dreaded for a lunar change, and in the south of France the inauspicious day is Friday. [403] In most of our own rural districts Friday's new moon is much disliked
"Friday's moon, Come when it wool, It comes too soon."
Saturday is unlucky for the new, and Sunday for the full moon. In Norfolk it is said:—
"Saturday's new and Sunday's full, Never was good, and never wull."
An apparently older version of the same weather-saw runs:—
"A Saturday's change, and a Sunday's prime, Was nivver a good mune in nea man's time."
In Worcestershire, a cottager near Berrow Hill told Mr. Edwin Lees, F.L.S., that as the new moon had fallen on a Saturday, there would follow twenty-one days of wind or rain; for
"If the moon on a Saturday be new or full, There always was rain, and there always wuell."
One rustic rhyme rehearsed in some places is:—
"A Saturday moon, If it comes once in seven years, Comes once too soon."
Next to the day, the medium through which the new moon is first beheld, is of vital moment. In Staffordshire it is unlucky to see this sight through trees. A correspondent in Notes and Queries (21st January, 1882) once saw a person almost in tears because she looked on the new moon through her veil, feeling convinced that misfortune would follow. Henderson cites a canon to be observed by those who would know what year they would wed. "Look at the first new moon of the year through a silk handkerchief which has never been washed. As many moons as you see through the handkerchief (the threads multiplying the vision), so many years will pass ere you are married." [404] Hunt tells us, what in fact is widely believed, that "to see the new moon for the first time through glass, is unlucky; you may be certain that you will break glass before that moon is out. I have known persons whose attention has been called to a clear new moon hesitate. 'Hev I seed her out o' doors afore?' if not, they will go into the open air, and, if possible, show the moon 'a piece of gold,' or, at all events, turn their money." [405] Mrs. Latham says: "Many of our Sussex superstitions are probably of Saxon origin; amongst which may be the custom of bowing or curtseying to the new or Lady moon, as she is styled, to deprecate bad luck. There is another kindred superstition, that the Queen of night will dart malignant rays upon you, if on the first day of her re-appearance you look up to her without money in your pocket. But if you are not fortunate enough to have any there, in order to avert her evil aspect, you must immediately turn head over heels! It is considered unlucky to see the new moon through a window-pane, and I have known a maidservant shut her eyes when closing the shutters lest she should unexpectedly see it through the glass. Do not kill your pig until full moon, or the pork will be ruined." [406] In Suffolk, also, "it is considered unlucky to kill a pig in the wane of the moon; if it is done, the pork will waste in boiling. I have known the shrinking of bacon in the pot attributed to the fact of the pig having been killed in the moon's decrease; and I have also known the death of poor piggy delayed, or hastened, so as to happen during its increase." [407]
The desirability of possessing silver in the pocket, and of turning it over, when the new moon is first seen, is a point of some interest. Forbes Leslie says, "The ill-luck of having no silver money —coins of other metals being of no avail—when you first see or hail a new moon, is still a common belief from Cornwall to Caithness, as well as in Ireland." [408] And Jamieson writes: "Another superstition, equally ridiculous and unaccountable, is still regarded by some. They deem it very unlucky to see the new moon for the first time without having silver in one's pocket. Copper is of no avail." [409] We venture to think that this is not altogether unaccountable. The moon at night, in a clear sky, reflects a brilliant whiteness. The two Hebrew words used of this luminary in the Bible, mean "pale light" and "white." "Hindooism says that the moon, Soma, was turned into a female called Chandra—'the White or Silvery One.'" [410] The Santhals of India call the sun Chando, which means bright, and is also a name for the moon. Now pure silver is of a very white colour and of a strong metallic lustre. It was one of the earliest known metals, and used as money from the remotest times. Its whiteness led the ancient astrologers, as it afterwards led the alchemists, to connect it with the moon, and to call it Diana and Luna, names previously given to the satellite. For Artemis, the Greek Diana, the Ephesian craftsmen made silver shrines. The moon became the symbol of silver; and to this day fused nitrate of silver is called lunar caustic. It was natural and easy for superstition to suppose that silver was the moon's own metal; and to imagine that upon the reappearance of the lunar deity or demon, its beams should be propitiated by some argentine possession. We find that silver was exclusively used in the worship of the moon in Peru.
In a book published in the earlier part of last century, and attributed to Daniel Defoe, we read; "To see a new moon the first time after her change, on the right hand, or directly before you, betokens the utmost good fortune that month; as to have her on your left, or behind you, so that in turning your head back you happen to see her, foreshows the worst; as also, they say, to be without gold in your pocket at that time is of very bad consequence." [411] The mistake in substituting gold for silver here is easily explained. As among the Romans aes meant both copper and money; and among the French argent means both silver and money in general; so in England gold is the common expression for coin of any substance. Silver being money, the word gold was thus substituted; the generic for the specific. Other superstitions besides those above noticed are found in different parts of our enlightened land. Denham says, "I once saw an aged matron turn her apron to the new moon to insure good luck for the ensuing month." [412] And Halliwell mentions a prayer customary among some persons:—
"I see the moon, and the moon sees me. God bless the moon, and God bless me." [413]
In Devonshire it is lucky to see the new moon over the right, but unlucky to see it over the left shoulder; and to see it straight before is good fortune to the end of the month. "In Renfrewshire, if a man's house be burnt during the wane of the moon, it is deemed unlucky. If the same misfortune take place when the moon is waxing, it is viewed as a presage of prosperity. In Orkney, also, it is reckoned unlucky to flit, or to remove from one habitation to another, during the waning of the moon." [414] A recent writer tells us that in Orkney "there are superstitions likewise associated with the moon. The increase, and full growth, and wane of that satellite are the emblems of a rising, flourishing, and declining fortune. No business of importance is begun during the moon's wane; if even an animal is killed at that period, the flesh is supposed to be unwholesome. A couple to think of marrying at that time would be regarded as recklessly careless respecting their future happiness Old people in some parts of Argyllshire were wont to invoke the Divine blessing on the moon after the monthly change. The Gaelic word for fortune is borrowed from that which denotes the full moon; and a marriage or birth occurring at that period is believed to augur prosperity." [415]
Kirkmichael, says another writer on the Highlands of Scotland, hath "its due proportion of that superstition which generally prevails over the Highlands. Unable to account for the cause, they consider the effects of times and seasons as certain and infallible. The moon in her increase, full growth, and in her wane, are with them the emblems of a rising, flourishing, and declining fortune. At the last period of her revolution they carefully avoid to engage in any business of importance; but the first and the middle they seize with avidity, presaging the most auspicious issue to their undertakings. Poor Martinus Scriblerus never more anxiously watched the blowing of the west wind to secure an heir to his genius, than the love-sick swain and his nymph for the coming of the new moon to be noosed together in matrimony. Should the planet happen to be at the height of her splendour when the ceremony is performed, their future life will be a scene of festivity, and all its paths strewed over with rosebuds of delight. But when her tapering horns are turned towards the north, passion becomes frost-bound, and seldom thaws till the genial season again approaches. From the moon they not only draw prognostications of the weather, but according to their creed also discover future events. There they are clearly portrayed, and ingenious illusion never fails in the explanation. The veneration paid to this planet, and the opinion of its influences, are obvious from the meaning still affixed to some words of the Gaelic language. In Druidic mythology, when the circle of the moon was complete, fortune then promised to be most propitious. Agreeably to this idea, rath, which signifies in Gaelic a wheel or circle, is transferred to signify fortune." [416]
Forbes Leslie writes: "The influence which the moon was supposed to exercise on mankind, as well as on inanimate objects, may be traced in the practice of the Druids. It is not yet extinct in Scotland; and the moon, in the increase, at the full, and on the wane, are emblems of prosperity, established success, or declining fortune, by which many persons did, and some still do, regulate the period for commencing their most important undertakings." [417] And yet once more, to make the induction most conclusive; we are told that "the canon law anxiously prohibited observance of the moon as regulating the period of marriage; nor was any regard to be paid to certain days of the year for ceremonies. If the Lucina of the ancients be identified with Diana, it was not unreasonable to court the care of the parturient, by selecting the time deemed most propitious. The strength of the ecclesiastical interdiction does not seem to have prevailed much in Scotland. Friday, which was consecrated to a northern divinity, has been deemed more favourable for the union. In the southern districts of Scotland, and in the Orkney Islands, the inhabitants preferred the increase of the moon for it. Auspicious circumstances were anticipated in other parts, from its celebration at full moon. Good fortune depended so much on the increase of that luminary, that nothing important was undertaken during its wane. Benefit even accrued to the stores provided during its increase, and its effect in preserving them is still credited." [418] To what, but to this prevalent belief in lunar influence on fortune can Shakespeare allude, when Romeo swears:
"Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops— Jul. Oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable." [419]
Upon the physiological influence of the lunar rays in the generation or aggravation of disease, we have but little to add to what has been already written. It is a topic for a special treatise, and properly belongs to those medical experts whose research and practice in this particular branch of physics qualify them to speak with plenary authority. Besides, it has been so wisely handled by Dr. Forbes Winslow, in his admirable monograph on Light, that inquirers cannot follow a safer guide than his little book affords. Dr. Winslow accounts for the theory of planetary influence partly by the action of the moon in producing the tides. He says: "Astronomers having admitted that the moon was capable of producing this physical effect upon the waters of the ocean, it was not altogether unnatural that the notion should become not only a generally received but a popular one, that the ebb and flow of the tides had a material influence over the bodily functions. The Spaniards imagine that all who die of chronic diseases breathe their last during the ebb. Southey says, that amongst the wonders of the isles and city of Cadiz, which the historian of that city, Suares de Salazar, enumerates, one is, according to p. Labat, that the sick never die there while the tide is rising or at its height, but always during the ebb. He restricts the notion to the isle of Leon, but implies that the effect was there believed to take place in diseases of all kinds, acute as well as chronic. 'Him fever,' says the negro in the West Indies, 'shall go when the water come low; him always come not when the tide high.' The popular notion amongst the negroes appears to be that the ebb and flow of the tides are caused by a 'fever of the sea,' which rages for six hours, and then intermits for as many more." [420] Dr. Winslow then subjoins a long list of learned authorities, several of whose writings he subjects to a brief analysis. He disapproves of the presumption that the subject is altogether visionary and utopian; and affirms that it has not always been pursued by competent observers. Periodicity is noted as an important symptom in disease; a feature in febrile disturbance which the present writer himself had abundant opportunity of marking and measuring during an epidemic of yellow fever in the city of Savannah in the year 1876. This periodicity Dr. Winslow regards as the foundation of the alleged lunar influence in morbid conditions. Some remarkable cases are referred to, which, if the fact of the moon's interference with human functions could be admitted, would go a long way to corroborate and confirm it. The supposed influence of the moon on plants is not passed over, nor the chemical composition of lunar light as a possible evil agency. Still considering the matter sub judice, Dr. Winslow then proceeds to the alleged influence of the moon on the insane; a question with which he was pre-eminently competent to cope. After alluding to the support given to the popular belief by poets and philosophers of ancient and modern times, the question of periodicity, or "lucid intervals," is again discussed, this time in its mental aspect, and the hygienic or sanatory influence of light is allowed its meed of consideration. The final result of the investigation is that the matter is held to be purely speculative, and it is esteemed wise to hold in reserve any theory in relation to the subject that may have been formed. With this conclusion we are greatly disappointed. Dr. Winslow's aid in the inquiry is most valuable, and if he, after his careful review of pathological literature on lunar influence, coupled with his own extended experience, holds the question in abeyance, who will venture upon a decision? We however believe, notwithstanding every existing difficulty, that the subject will be brought into clear light ere long, and all superstition end in accurate science. Meanwhile, many, even of the enlightened, will cling to the unforgotten fancy which gave rise to the word lunatic, and in cases of mental derangement will moralize with young Banks in the Witch of Edmonton (1658), "When the moon's in the full, then wit's in the wane."
MOON INHABITATION.
Science having practically diminished the moon's distance, and rendered distinct its elevations and depressions, it is natural for "those obstinate questionings of sense and outward things" to urge the inquiry, Is the moon inhabited? This question it is easier to ask than to answer. It has been a mooted point for many years, and our wise men of the west seem still disposed to give it up, or, at least, to adjourn its decision for want of evidence. Of "guesses at truth" there have been a great multitude, and of dogmatic assertions not a few; but demonstrations are things which do not yet appear. We now take leave to report progress, and give the subject a little ventilation. We do not expect to furnish an Ariadne's thread, but we may hope to find some indication of the right way out of this labyrinth of uncertainty. Veritas nihil veretur nisi abscondi: or, as the German proverb says, "Truth creeps not into corners"; its life is the light.
But before we advance a single step, we desire to preclude all misunderstanding on one point, by distinctly avowing our conviction that the teachings of Christian theology are not at all involved in the issue of this discussion, whatever it may prove. Infinite harm has been done by confusing the religion of science with the science of religion. Religion is a science, and science is a religion; but they are not identical. Philosophy ought to be pious, and piety ought to be philosophical; but philosophy and piety are two quantities and qualities that may dwell apart, though, happily, they may also be found in one nature. Each has its own faculties and functions; and in our present investigation, religion has nothing more to do than to shed the influence of reverence, humility, and teachableness over the scientific student as he ponders his problem and works out the truth. In this, and in kindred studies, we may yield without reluctance what a certain professor of religion concedes, and grant without grudging what a certain professor of science demands. Dr. James Martineau says, "In so far as Church belief is still committed to a given kosmogony and natural history of man, it lies open to scientific refutation"; and again, "The whole history of the Genesis of things Religion must unconditionally surrender to the Sciences." [421] In this we willingly concur, for science ought to be, and will be, supreme in its own domain. Bishop Temple does "not hesitate to ascribe to Science a clearer knowledge of the true interpretation of the first chapter of Genesis, and to scientific history a truer knowledge of the great historical prophets. Science enters into Religion, and the believer is bound to recognise its value and make use of its services." [422] Then, to quote the professor of science, Dr. John Tyndall says. "The impregnable position of science may be described in a few words. We claim, and we shall wrest from Theology, the entire domain of cosmological theory." [423] We wish the eloquent professor all success. It was not the spirit of primitive Christianity, but the spirit of priestly ignorance, intolerance, and despotism, which invaded the territory of natural science; and if those who are its rightful lords can recover the soil, we bid them heartily, God speed! We have been driven to these remarks by a twofold impulse. First, we can never forget the injury that has been inflicted on science by the oppositions of a headless religion; any more than we can forget the injury which has been inflicted on religion by the oppositions of a heartless science. Secondly, we have seen this very question of the inhabitation of the planets and satellites rendered a topic of ridicule for Thomas Paine, and an inviting theme for raillery to others of sophistical spirit, by the way in which it has been foolishly mixed up with sacred or spiritual concerns. Surely, the object of God in the creation of our terrestrial race, or the benefits of the death of Jesus Christ, can have no more to do with the habitability of the moon, than the doctrine of the Trinity has to do with the multiplication table and the rule of three, or the hypostatical union with the chemical composition of water and light. Having said thus much of compulsion, we return, not as ministers in the temple of religion so much as students in the school of science, to consider with docility the question in dispute, Is the moon inhabited?
Three avenues, more or less umbrageous, are open to us; all of which have been entered. They may be named observation, induction, and analogy. The first, if we could pursue it, would explicate the enigma at once. The second, if clear, would satisfy our reason, which, in such a matter, might be equivalent to sight. And the third might conduct us to a shadow which would "prove the substance true." We begin by dealing briefly with the argument from observation. Here our data are small and our difficulties great. One considerable inconvenience in the inquiry is, of course, the moon's distance. Though she is our next-door neighbour in the many-mansioned universe, two hundred and thirty-seven thousand miles are no mere step heavenward. Transit across the intervenient space being at present impracticable, we have to derive our most enlarged views of this "spotty globe" from the "optic glass." But this admirable appliance, much as it has revealed, is thus far wholly inadequate to the solution of our mystery. Robert Hooke, in the seventeenth century, thought that he could construct a telescope with which we might discern the inhabitants of the moon life-size —seeing them as plainly as we see the inhabitants of the earth. But, alas! the sanguine mathematician died in his sleep, and his dream has not yet come true. Since Hooke's day gigantic instruments have been fitted up, furnished with all the modern improvements which could be supplied through the genius or generosity of such astronomers as Joseph Fraunhofer and Sir William Herschel, the third Earl of Rosse and the fourth Duke of Northumberland. But all of these worthy men left something to be done by their successors. Consequently, not long since, our scientists set to work to increase their artificial eyesight. The Rev. Mr. Webb tells us that "the first 'Moon Committee' of the British Association recommended a power of 1,000." But he discourages us if we anticipate large returns; for he adds: "Few indeed are the instruments or the nights that will bear it; but when employed, what will be the result? Since increase of magnifying is equivalent to decrease of distance, we shall see the moon as large (though not as distinct) as if it were 240 miles off, and any one can judge what could be made of the grandest building upon earth at that distance." [424] If therefore we are to see the settlement of the matter in the speculum of a telescope, it may be some time before we have done with what Guillemin calls "the interesting, almost insoluble question, of the existence of living and organized beings on the surface of the satellite of our little earth." [425] Some cynic may interpose with the quotation,—
"But optics sharp it needs, I ween, To see what is not to be seen." [426]
True, but it remains to be shown that there is nothing to be seen beyond what we see. We are not prepared to deny the existence of everything which our mortal eyes may fail to trace. Four hundred years ago all Europe believed that to sail in search of a western continent was to wish "to see what is not to be seen"; but a certain Christopher Columbus went out persuaded of things not seen as yet, and having embarked in faith he landed in sight. The lesson must not be lost upon us.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
Because we cannot now make out either habitations or habitants on the moon, it does not necessarily follow that the night will never come when, through some mightier medium than any ever yet constructed or conceived, we shall descry, beside mountains and valleys, also peopled plains and populous cities animating the fair features of this beautiful orb. One valuable auxiliary of the telescope, destined to play an important part in lunar discovery, must not be overlooked. Mr. Norman Lockyer says, "With reference to the moon, if we wish to map her correctly, it is now no longer necessary to depend on ordinary eye observations alone; it is perfectly clear that by means of an image of the moon, taken by photography, we are able to fix many points on the lunar surface." [427] With telescopic and photographic lenses in skilled hands, and a wealth of inventive genius in fertile brains, we can afford to wait a long while before we close the debate with a final negative.
In the meantime, eyes and glasses giving us no satisfaction, we turn to scientific induction. Speculation is a kind of mental mirror, that before now has anticipated or supplemented the visions of sense. Not being practical astronomers ourselves, we have to follow the counsel of that unknown authority who bids us believe the expert. But expertness being the fruit of experience, we may be puzzled to tell who have attained that rank. We will inquire, however, with due docility, of the oracles of scientific research. It is agreed on all sides that to render the moon habitable by beings at all akin with our own kind, there must be within or upon that body an atmosphere, water, changing seasons, and the alternations of day and night. We know that changes occur in the moon, from cold to heat, and from darkness to light. But the lunar day is as long as 291 of ours; so that each portion of the surface is exposed to, or turned from, the sun for nearly 14 days. This long exposure produces excessive heat, and the long darkness excessive cold. Such extremities of temperature are unfavourable to the existence of beings at all like those living upon the earth, especially if the moon be without water and atmosphere. As these two desiderata seem indispensable to lunar inhabitation, we may chiefly consider the question, Do these conditions exist? If so, inductive reasoning will lead us to the inference, which subsequent experience will strengthen, that the moon is inhabited like its superior planet. But if not, life on the satellite similar to life on the earth, is altogether improbable, if not absolutely impossible.
The replies given to this query will be by no means unanimous. But, for the full understanding of the state of the main question, and to assist us in arriving at some sort of verdict, we will hear several authorities on both sides of the case. The evidence being cumulative, we pursue the chronological order, and begin with La Place. He writes: "The lunar atmosphere, if any such exists, is of an extreme rarity, greater even than that which can be produced on the surface of the earth by the best constructed air-pumps. It may be inferred from this that no terrestrial animal could live or respire at the surface of the moon, and that if the moon be inhabited, it must be by animals of another species." [428] This opinion, as Sir David Brewster points out, is not that the moon has no atmosphere, but that if it have any it is extremely attenuated. Mr. Russell Hind's opinion is similar with respect to water. He says: "Earlier selenographists considered the dull, grayish spots to be water, and termed them the lunar seas, bays, and lakes. They arc so called to the present day, though we have strong evidence to show that if water exist at all on the moon, it must be in very small quantity." [429] Mr. Grant tells us that "the question whether the moon be surrounded by an atmosphere has been much discussed by astronomers. Various phenomena are capable of indicating such an atmosphere, but, generally speaking, they are found to be unfavourable to its existence, or at all events they lead to the conclusion that it must be very inconsiderable." [430] Humboldt thinks that Schroeter's assumptions of a lunar atmosphere and lunar twilight are refuted, and adds: "If, then, the moon is without any gaseous envelope, the entire absence of any diffused light must cause the heavenly bodies, as seen from thence, to appear projected against a sky almost black in the day-time. No undulation of air can there convey sound, song, or speech. The moon, to our imagination, which loves to soar into regions inaccessible to full research, is a desert where silence reigns unbroken." [431] Dr. Lardner considers it proven "that there does not exist upon the moon an atmosphere capable of reflecting light in any sensible degree," and also believes that "the same physical tests which show the non-existence of an atmosphere of air upon the moon are equally conclusive against an atmosphere of vapour." [432] Mr. Breen is more emphatic. He writes: "In the want of water and air, the question as to whether this body is inhabited is no longer equivocal. Its surface resolves itself into a sterile and inhospitable waste, where the lichen which flourishes amidst the frosts and snows of Lapland would quickly wither and die, and where no animal with a drop of blood in its veins could exist." [433] The anonymous author of the Essay on the Plurality of Worlds announces that astronomers are agreed to negative our question without dissent. We shall have to manifest his mistake. His words are: "Now this minute examination of the moon's surface being possible, and having been made by many careful and skilful astronomers, what is the conviction which has been conveyed to their minds with regard to the fact of her being the seat of vegetable or animal life? Without exception, it would seem, they have all been led to the belief that the moon is not inhabited; that she is, so far as life and organization are concerned, waste and barren, like the streams of lava or of volcanic ashes on the earth, before any vestige of vegetation has been impressed upon them; or like the sands of Africa, where no blade of grass finds root." [434] Robert Chambers says: "It does not appear that our satellite is provided with an atmosphere of the kind found upon earth; neither is there any appearance of water upon the surface. . . . These characteristics of the moon forbid the idea that it can be at present a theatre of life like the earth, and almost seem to declare that it never can become so." [435] Schoedler's opinion is concurrent with what has preceded. He writes: "According to the most exact observations it appears that the moon has no atmosphere similar to ours, that on its surface there are no great bodies of water like our seas and oceans, so that the existence of water is doubtful. The whole physical condition of the lunar surface must, therefore, be so different from that of our earth, that beings organized as we are could not exist there." [436] Another German author says: "The observations of Fraunhofer (1823), Brewster and Gladstone (1860), Huggins and Miller, as well as Janssen, agree in establishing the complete accordance of the lunar spectrum with that of the sun. In all the various portions of the moon's disk brought under observation, no difference could be perceived in the dark lines of the spectrum, either in respect of their number or relative intensity. From this entire absence of any special absorption lines, it must be concluded that there is no atmosphere in the moon, a conclusion previously arrived at from the circumstance that during an occultation no refraction is perceived on the moon's limb when a star disappears behind the disk." [437] Mr. Nasmyth follows in the same strain. Holding that the moon lacks air, moisture, and temperature, he says, "Taking all these adverse conditions into consideration, we are in every respect justified in concluding that there is no possibility of animal or vegetable life existing on the moon, and that our satellite must therefore be regarded as a barren world." [438] A French astronomer holds a like opinion, saying: "There is nothing to show that the moon possesses an atmosphere; and if there was one, it would be perceptible during the occultations of the stars and the eclipses of the sun. It seems impossible that, in the complete absence of air, the moon can be peopled by beings organized like ourselves, nor is there any sign of vegetation or of any alteration in the state of its surface which can be attributed to a change of seasons." [439] On the same side Mr. Crampton writes most decisively, "With what we do know, however, of our satellite, I think the idea of her being inhabited may be dismissed summarily; i.e. her inhabitation by intelligent beings, or an animal creation such as exist here." [440] And, finally, in one of Maunder's excellent Treasuries, we read of the moon, "She has no atmosphere, or at least none of sufficient density to refract the rays of light as they pass through it, and hence there is no water on her surface; consequently she can have no animals like those on our planet, no vegetation, nor any change of seasons." [441] These opinions, recorded by so many judges of approved ability and learning, have great weight; and some may regard their premisses and conclusions as irresistibly cogent and convincing. The case against inhabitation is certainly strong. But justice is impartial. Audi alteram partem.
Judges of equal erudition will now speak as respondents. We go back to the seventeenth century, and begin with a work whose reasoning is really remarkable, seeing that it is nearly two hundred and fifty years since it was first published. We refer to the Discovery of a New World by John Wilkins, Bishop of Chester; in which the reverend philosopher aims to prove the following propositions:—"1. That the strangeness of this opinion (that the moon may be a world) is no sufficient reason why it should be rejected; because other certain truths have been formerly esteemed as ridiculous, and great absurdities entertained by common consent. 2. That a plurality of worlds does not contradict any principle of reason or faith. 3. That the heavens do not consist of any such pure matter which can privilege them from the like change and corruption, as these inferior bodies are liable unto. 4. That the moon is a solid, compacted, opacous body. 5. That the moon hath not any light of her own. 6. That there is a world in the moon, hath been the direct opinion of many ancient, with some modern mathematicians; and may probably be deduced from the tenets of others. 9. That there are high mountains, deep valleys, and spacious plains in the body of the moon. 10. That there is an atmosphoera, or an orb of gross vaporous air, immediately encompassing the body of the moon. 13. That 'tis probable there may be inhabitants in this other world; but of what kind they are, is uncertain." [442] We go on to 1686, and listen to the French philosopher, Fontenelle, in his Conversations with the Marchioness. "'Well, madam,' said I, 'you will not be surprised when you hear that the moon is an earth too, and that she is inhabited as ours is.' 'I confess,' said she, 'I have often heard talk of the world in the moon, but I always looked upon it as visionary and mere fancy.' 'And it may be so still,' said I. 'I am in this case as people in a civil war, where the uncertainty of what may happen makes them hold intelligence with the opposite party; for though I verily believe the moon is inhabited, I live civilly with those who do not believe it; and I am still ready to embrace the prevailing opinion. But till the unbelievers have a more considerable advantage, I am for the people in the moon.'" [443] Whatever may be thought of his philosophy, no one could quarrel with the Secretary of the Academy on the score of his politeness or his prudence. A more recent and more reliable authority appears in Sir David Brewster. He tells us that "MM. Maedler and Beer, who have studied the moon's surface more diligently than any of their predecessors or contemporaries, have arrived at the conclusion that she has an atmosphere." Sir David himself maintains that "every planet and satellite in the solar system must have an atmosphere." [444] Bonnycastle, whilom professor of mathematics in the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, writes: "Astronomers were formerly of opinion that the moon had no atmosphere, on account of her never being obscured by clouds or vapours; and because the fixed stars, at the time of an occultation, disappear behind her instantaneously, without any gradual diminution of their light. But if we consider the effects of her days and nights, which are near thirty times as long as with us, it may be readily conceived that the phenomena of vapours and meteors must be very different. And besides, the vaporous or obscure part of our atmosphere is only about the one thousand nine hundred and eightieth part of the earth's diameter, as is evident from observing the clouds, which are seldom above three or four miles high; and therefore, as the moon's apparent diameter is only about thirty-one minutes and a half, or one thousand eight hundred and ninety seconds, the obscure part of her atmosphere, supposing it to resemble our own, when viewed from the earth, must subtend an angle of less than one second; which is so small a space, that observations must be extremely accurate to determine whether the supposed obscuration takes place or not." [445] Dr. Brinkley, at one time the Astronomer-Royal of Ireland, writes: "Many astronomers formerly denied the existence of an atmosphere at the moon; principally from observing no variation of appearance on the surface, like what would take place, did clouds exist as with us; and also, from observing no change in the light of the fixed stars on the approach of the dark edge of the moon. The circumstance of there being no clouds, proves either that there is no atmosphere similar to that of our earth, or that there are no waters on its surface to be converted into vapour; and that of the lustre of the stars not being changed, proves that there can be no dense atmosphere. But astronomers now seem agreed that an atmosphere does surround the moon, although of small density when compared with that of our earth. M. Schroeter has observed a small twilight in the moon, such as would arise from an atmosphere capable of reflecting the rays at the height of about one mile." [446] Dr. Brinkley is inaccurate in saying that astronomers are agreed as to the lunar atmosphere. Like students in every other department of inquiry, spiritual as well as physical, they fail at present to see "eye to eye"; which is not surprising, seeing that the eye is so restricted, and the object so remote.
Dr. Dick, whose productions have done much to popularize the study of the heavens, and to promote its reverent pursuit, says: "On the whole it appears most probable that the moon is surrounded with a fluid which serves the purpose of an atmosphere; although this atmosphere, as to its nature, composition, and refractive power, may be very different from the atmosphere which surrounds the earth. It forms no proof that the moon, or any of the planets, is destitute of an atmosphere, because its constitution, its density, and its power of refracting the rays of light are different from ours. An atmosphere may surround a planetary body, and yet its parts be so fine and transparent that the rays of light, from a star or any other body, may pass through it without being in the least obscured, or changing their direction. In our reasonings on this subject, we too frequently proceed on the false principle, that everything connected with other worlds must bear a resemblance to those on the earth." [447] Mr. Neison, who has written one of the latest contributions to the science of selenography, says, "Of the present non-existence of masses of water upon the surface of the moon, there remains no doubt, though no evidence of its entire absence from the lunar crust can be adduced; and similarly, many well-established facts in reference to the moon afford ample proof of the non-existence of a lunar atmosphere, having a density equal to, or even much less than, that of the earth; but of the absence of an atmosphere, whose mass should enable it to play an important part in the moulding of the surface of the moon, and comparable almost to that of the terrestrial atmosphere, in their respective ratios to the masses of their planets, little, if any, trustworthy evidence exists." On another page of the same work, the author affirms "that later inquiries have shown that the moon may possess an atmosphere that must be regarded as fully capable of sustaining various forms of vegetation of even an advanced type; and, moreover, it does not appear how it can justly be questioned that the lunar surface in favourable positions may yet retain a sufficiency of moisture to support vegetation of many kinds; whilst in a very considerable portion of the entire surface of the moon, the temperature would not vary sufficiently to materially affect the existence of vegetable life." [448] Some of these writers may appear to be travelling rather too fast or too far, and their assumptions may wear more of the aspect of plausibility than of probability. But on their atmospheric and aqueous hypothesis, vegetation in abundance is confessedly a legitimate consequence. If a recent writer has liberty to condense into a sentence the conclusion from the negative premiss in the argument by saying, "As there is but a little appearance of water or air upon the moon, the conclusion has been inferred that there exists no vegetable or animal life on that globe," [449] other writers, holding opposite views of the moon's physical condition, may be allowed to expatiate on the luxuriant life which an atmosphere with water and temperature would undoubtedly produce. Mr. Proctor's tone is temperate, and his language that of one who is conscious with Hippocrates that "art is long and life is short." He says, in one of his contributions to lunar science, "It may safely be asserted that the opportunities presented during the life of any single astronomer for a trustworthy investigation of any portion of the moon's surface, under like conditions, are few and far between, and the whole time so employed must be brief, even though the astronomer devote many more years than usual to observational research." [450] This prepares us to find in another of the same author's works the following suggestive sentence: "With regard to the present habitability of the moon, it may be remarked that we are not justified in asserting positively that no life exists upon her surface. Life has been found under conditions so strange, we have been so often mistaken in assuming that here certainly, or there, no living creatures can possibly exist, that it would be rash indeed to dogmatise respecting the state of the moon in this respect." [451] Narrien, one of the historians of the science, may be heard, though his contribution might be cast into either scale. He writes: "The absence of those variations of light and shade which would be produced by clouds floating above her surface, and the irregularities of the ground, visible at the bottom and on the sides of her cavities, have given reason to believe that no atmosphere surrounds her, and that she is destitute of rivers and seas. Such are the opinions generally entertained concerning the moon; but M. Schroeter, a German astronomer, ventures to assert that our satellite is the abode of living and intellectual beings; he has perceived some indications of an atmosphere which, however, he admits, cannot exceed two miles in height, and certain elevations which appear to him to be works of art rather than of nature. He considers that a uniformity of temperature must be produced on her surface by her slow rotation on her axis, by the insensible change from day to night, and the attenuated state of her atmosphere, which is never disturbed by storms; and that light vapours, rising from her valleys, fall in the manner of a gentle and refreshing dew to fertilize her fields." [452] Dr. H. W. M. Olbers is fully persuaded "that the moon is inhabited by rational creatures, and that its surface is more or less covered with a vegetation not very dissimilar to that of our own earth." Dr. Gruithuisen, of Munich, maintains that he has descried through his large achromatic telescope "great artificial works in the moon erected by the lunarians," which he considers to be "a system of fortifications thrown up by the selenitic engineers." We should have scant hope of deciding the dispute by the dicta of the ancients, were these far more copious than we find them to be. Yet reverence for antiquity may justify our quoting one of the classic fathers. Plutarch says, "The Pythagoreans affirme, that the moone appeereth terrestriall, for that she is inhabited round about, like as the earth wherein we are, and peopled as it were with the greatest living creatures, and the fairest plants." Again, "And of all this that hath been said (my friend Theon) there is nothing that doth proove and show directly, this habitation of men in the moon to be impossible." [453] Here we close the argument based on induction, and sum up the evidence in our possession. On the one hand, several scientific men, whose names we need not repeat, having surveyed the moon, deny it an atmosphere, water, and other conditions of life. Consequently, they disbelieve in its inhabitation, solely because they consider the fact undemonstrable; none of them being so unscientific as to believe it to be absolutely impossible. On the other hand, we have the valuable views of Maedler and Beer, whose lunar labours are unsurpassed, and whose map of the moon is a marvel and model of advanced selenography. They do not suppose the conditions on our satellite to be exactly what they are on this globe. In their own words, the moon is "no copy of the earth, much less a colony of the same." They merely believe her to be environed with air, and thus habitable. And when we recall our own Sir David Brewster, Professor Bonnycastle, Dr. Brinkley, Dr. Dick, Mr. Neison, and Mr. Proctor; and reckon with them the continental astronomers, Dr. Gruithuisen, Dr. Olbers, and Schroeter, all of whom attempted to fix the idea of planetary inhabitation on the popular mind, we must acknowledge that they, with their opponents, have a strong claim on our attention. The only verdict we are able just now to render, after hearing these conflicting testimonies, is the Scotch one, Not proven. We but append the legal indorsement ignoramus, we do not know. The subject must remain sub judice; but what we know not now, we hope to know hereafter.
Having interrogated sense and science, with the solution of our enigma anything but complete, we resort last of all to the argument from analogy. If this can illumine the obscurity, it will all be on the positive side of the inquiry. At present the question resembles a half-moon: analogy may show that the affirmative is waxing towards a full-orbed conviction. We open with Huyghens, a Dutch astronomer of note, who, while he thinks it certain "that the moon has no air or atmosphere surrounding it as we have," and "cannot imagine how any plants or animals whose whole nourishment comes from fluid bodies, can thrive in a dry, waterless, parched soil," yet asks, "What, then, shall this great ball be made for; nothing but to give us a little weak light in the night time, or to raise our tides in the sea? Shall not we plant some people there that may have the pleasure of seeing our earth turn upon its axis, presenting them sometimes with a prospect of Europe and Africa, and then of Asia and America; sometimes half and sometimes full?" [454] Ray was "persuaded that this luminary doth serve many ends and uses, especially to maintain the creatures which in all likelihood breed and inhabit there." [455] Swedenborg's ipse dixit ought to convince the most incredulous; for he speaks "from what has been heard and seen." Thus he says: "That there are inhabitants in the moon is well known to spirits and angels, and in like manner that there are inhabitants in the moons or satellites which revolve about Jupiter and Saturn. They who have not seen and discoursed with spirits coming from those moons still entertain no doubt but there are men inhabiting them, because they are earths alike with the planets, and wherever an earth is, there are men inhabitants; for man is the end for which every earth was created, and nothing was made by the great Creator without an end." [456] If any are still sceptical, Sir William Herschel, an intellectual light of no mean magnitude, may reach them. He writes: "While man walks upon the ground, the birds fly in the air, and fishes swim in water, we can certainly not object to the conveniences afforded by the moon, if those that are to inhabit its regions are fitted to their conditions as well as we on this globe arc to ours. An absolute or total sameness seems rather to denote imperfections, such as nature never exposes to our view; and, on this account, I believe the analogies that have been mentioned fully sufficient to establish the high probability of the moon's being inhabited like the earth." [457] The voice of Dr. Dwight, the American theologian, will not be out of harmony here. In discoursing of the starry heavens, he says of the planets: "Of these inferior worlds, the moon is one; and to us, far the most interesting. How many important purposes which are known does this beautiful attendant of our earth continually accomplish! How many more, in all probability, which are hitherto unknown, and which hereafter may be extensively disclosed to more enlightened, virtuous, and happy generations of men! At the same time, it is most rationally concluded that intelligent beings in great multitudes inhabit her lucid regions, being far better and happier than ourselves." [458] Whewell's Bridgewater Treatise will furnish us a fitting quotation. "The earth, the globular body thus covered with life, is not the only globe in the universe. There are, circling about our own sun, six others, so far as we can judge, perfectly analogous in their nature: besides our moon and other bodies analogous to it. No one can resist the temptation to conjecture, that these globes, some of them much larger than our own, are not dead and barren: —that they are, like ours, occupied with organization, life, intelligence." [459] In a most eloquent passage, Dr. Chalmers, who will always be heard with admiration, exclaims: "Who shall assign a limit to the discoveries of future ages? Who shall prescribe to science her boundaries, or restrain the active and insatiable curiosity of man within the circle of his present acquirements? We may guess with plausibility what we cannot anticipate with confidence. The day may yet be coming when our instruments of observation shall be inconceivably more powerful. They may ascertain still more decisive points of resemblance. They may resolve the same question by the evidence of sense which is now so abundantly convincing by the evidence of analogy. They may lay open to us the unquestionable vestiges of art, and industry, and intelligence. We may see summer throwing its green mantle over those mighty tracts, and we may see them left naked and colourless after the flush of vegetation has disappeared. In the progress of years or of centuries, we may trace the hand of cultivation spreading a new aspect over some portion of a planetary surface. Perhaps some large city, the metropolis of a mighty empire, may expand into a visible spot by the powers of some future telescope. Perhaps the glass of some observer, in a distant age, may enable him to construct the map of another world, and to lay down the surface of it in all its minute and topical varieties. But there is no end of conjecture; and to the men of other times we leave the full assurance of what we can assert with the highest probability, that yon planetary orbs are so many worlds, that they teem with life, and that the mighty Being who presides in high authority over this scene of grandeur and astonishment has there planted the worshippers of His glory." [460]
How fine is this outburst of the great Scotch orator! He spoke as one inspired with prophetic foreknowledge; for in less than twenty years after this utterance, Beer and Maedler published their splendid Mappe Selenographica, or map of the moon; and photography offered its aid to the fuller delineation of our silvery satellite. Who can tell what the last fifteen years of this eventful century may develop in the same direction? Verily these intuitions of reason seem often favoured with an apocalypse of coming disclosures; and, if we may venture to adopt with slight alteration a sentence of Shelley, we will say: "It is impossible to read the compositions of the most celebrated writers of the present day without being startled with the electric life which burns within their words. They measure the circumference and sound the depths of nature with a comprehensive and all-penetrating spirit, and they are themselves perhaps the most sincerely astonished at its manifestations; for it is less their spirit than the spirit of the age." The poets of science, in their analogies, are "the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present." [461] Equally noble with the language of Chalmers is a paragraph which we have extracted from a work by that scholarly writer, Isaac Taylor. He says: "There are two facts, each of which is significant in relation to our present subject, and of which the first has long been understood, while the latter (only of late ascertained) is every day receiving new illustrations; namely, that our planet is, in no sense, of primary importance in the general system, or entitled, by its magnitude, or its position, or its constitution, to be considered as exerting any peculiar influence over others, or as the object of more regard than any others. This knowledge of our real place and value in the universe is a very important consequence of our modern astronomy, and should not be lost sight of in any of our speculations. But then it is also now ascertained that the great laws of our own planet, and of the solar system to which it belongs, prevail in all other and the most remote systems, so as to make the visible universe, in the strictest sense, ONE SYSTEM—indicating one origin and showing the presence of one Controlling Power. Thus the law of gravitation, with all the conditions it implies, and the laws of light, are demonstrated to be in operation in regions incalculably remote; and just so far as the physical constitution of the other planets of our system can be either traced, or reasonably conjectured, it appears that, amid great diversities of constitution, the same great principles prevail in all; and therefore our further conjecture concerning the existence of sentient and rational life in other worlds is borne out by every sort of analogy, abstract and physical; and this same rule of analogy impels us to suppose that rational and moral agents, in whatever world found, and whatever diversity of form may distinguish them, would be such that we should soon feel at home in their society, and able to confer with them, to communicate knowledge to them, and to receive knowledge from them. Neither truth nor virtue is local; nor can there be wisdom and goodness in one planet, which is not wisdom and goodness in every other." [462] The writer of the Plurality of Worlds, a little work distinct from the essay already quoted, vigorously vindicates "the deeply cherished belief of some philosophers, and of many Christians, that our world, in its present state, contains the mere embryo of intelligent, moral, and religious happiness; that the progress of man in his present state is but the initiation of an interminable career of glory; and that his most widely extended associations are a preparation for as interminably an intercourse with the whole family of an intelligent universe." [463] Dr. Arnott may add a final word, a last link in this evidential chain of analogy. He writes: "To think, as our remote forefathers did, that the wondrous array of the many planets visible from this earth serve no purpose but to adorn its nocturnal sky, would now appear absurd indeed; but whether they are inhabited by beings at all resembling the men of this earth, we have not the means of knowing. All the analogies favour the opinion that they are the abodes of life and its satisfactions. On this earth there is no place so hot or so cold, so illumined or so dark, so dry or so wet, but that it has creatures constituted to enjoy life there." [464] |
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